Marked Wolf (Protector Wolf Shifter Series Book 2), page 21
The alpha’s mate, Jeni, was gone.
Kodiak’s stomach roiled.
She’d either left, which he doubted—not without seeing Olcan—or had perished in the fight.
He knew it was the latter.
No alpha’s mate would leave. Not without mourning, without a goodbye. Was that why Olcan had gone hard, beyond when he could have saved himself?
He’d never know.
With Olcan’s mate gone, Kodiak was free to choose his own mate, but his pack wasn’t going to like his choice. And being alpha? He didn’t want it that way. He’d wanted to be the alpha, but he’d wanted to win the position on his own merit, not have it handed to him. Not like this.
His mind whirled with conflicting tasks that all needed to be done. He closed his eyes for a moment and put everything in order.
“We take a moment,” he said, “to mourn. And then we take care of wounds that need help, and we build up our resources and go after them.”
His gaze fell to Tamaska who started to edge away. Their eyes met and she stopped, bowing her head.
There were things he wanted to say, things he needed to say, but right then he didn’t have the luxury.
Instead, he turned to Ash.
“Ash, you need to work out how the vampires got past our defences. Reset everything. Nothing gets into the clubhouse alive. Got it?”
“Yes,” Ash nodded, then moved around the room, finally bending to pick up her blood-covered laptop. “I’ll get it working.”
Kodiak trusted her, so that was one small worry off his mind. She’d do what she could, probably go above and beyond. He turned his attention to the others, all standing there injured and tired. Their long night wasn’t even close to ending.
“Once you’ve done that, you know what to do for the ones who….” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
She touched his arm. “I will.” And then she left the basement.
Kodiak breathed out heavily. As wolf shifters, they had certain protocols in place to avoid drawing human attention. They couldn’t exactly have a normal funeral for their fallen packmates, and if too many of their members went missing, the police would come asking questions that could never be answered.
To avoid that, Ash would hack into the government’s files and update their packmates’ records to read Deceased due to natural causes. They’d always done that after losing one of their own to the vampires, but they’d never had to deal with casualties of this scale.
Ash would know how to change their records so no humans would feel the need to investigate. The last thing the pack needed was to deal with nosy humans when they were being so brutally attacked by the vampires.
There would be those here who’d blame Tamaska for this carnage, and for the death of Olcan.
He added that to his growing list.
It would be something he’d have to sort. Not just because she was his, but she needed their protection. And they needed her to work out what the fuck was so important about her regarding the opal.
Why had Amdis marked her?
None of this was her fault and yet, along with some of the wolves, Tamaska would blame herself. Shoulder blame that wasn’t hers.
She’d get angry, lash out at him, because it hurt.
And he… He wished a lot of things. For her not to be in pain, for this to be over, for the dead to live again. But he couldn’t make any of that happen. And ending this meant wading in deeper.
This time, though, they needed to be prepared.
Everything else could wait.
Right now they needed to get things done first. Important things to the pack.
He made eye contact with Shota, who had a bullish air about him, black and fierce and full of sparking anger. The man wanted a fight.
Fuck.
Shota’s mouth twisted in a snarl, and he eyed both Kodiak and then Tamaska with something like hatred.
One more thing to deal with.
But people were hurt, bleeding. Injured. That came first.
Kodiak sought out another of his team. “Fern, take Shota and check the injured. Attend to their wounds, then give their names to Ash so she can update their statuses.” Given their relationship, Kodiak hoped Fern could keep Shota on track. Shota needed to focus on helping the pack, not on challenging Kodiak for his position as the new alpha.
Additionally, Fern was an excellent healer. She’d put her skills to good use for anyone in need of medical care.
The lack of pack connections outside of the room suggested to Kodiak that no one was missing, but he had to make sure.
“Channing and Elias, check for anyone outside or in the house who might be too injured to come here.”
The two nodded and left.
“Skoll and Onai, deal with any vampires. Burn their parts and make sure they don’t return.” Kodiak clenched his fists tightly. “Then bring our fallen members out back. We’ll give them the send-off they deserve for their bravery and commitment.”
They went over to Olcan with grave expressions.
“We start with him,” Onai said.
He nodded. “Yes.” He looked about the room. “Everyone else, find a team to join. And take note of what needs to be done here, what needs to be strengthened, fixed.” The rest nodded, breaking off into small groupings.
Skoll went to pick up Olcan.
“Wait a moment.” Kodiak wanted to say one last farewell to his alpha.
It was just him, Tamaska, and Onai and Skoll. Something in him cracked and he took a breath to steady his emotions. He no longer had that luxury, of indulging in such feelings, now that he was the alpha. And he understood why Olcan seemed so harsh at times.
“We’ll need more bleach, boss,” Channing said, clearing his throat like he was interrupting something. Which he was, but that was the way of things.
Usually Channing would make a bad joke, but not tonight. Tonight he swayed a little, and his injuries, though not life threatening, were bad.
Yet he stood there with the stubborn energy of youth, and the unerring understanding that he needed not to crumble yet.
It was…admirable.
No doubt the pup wanted to say his goodbyes, too, from the way his gaze kept skipping to the still form of Olcan.
“I’ll send someone out for more at the first light. You need to see Fern now. Make sure your wounds heal and don’t cause you further grief down the road,” said Kodiak. He moved closer to Channing and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“We still have a battle coming, don’t we?”
“That we do.”
Channing’s gaze hit on Tamaska and then he said, “Figured.”
“It’s no one’s fault but the vampires. Everyone did what they could.” He lowered his voice. “And they want her, for something terrible.”
“Humans…”
“Didn’t do this.”
The pup frowned. “But Shota—”
“Isn’t in charge and the humans didn’t do this.”
“You like that one.”
He considered Channing. “I do. But Olcan accepted her, and she didn’t do this. If anything, she’s an important key. And good leaders understand how to see these things. Try.”
“Okay.”
“And humans? We protect them. Like we protect the young and innocent. We’ve lost too many tonight, and you are our future,” said Kodiak. “One day you’ll be a leader, I can see that, and to do such a thing, you must forge your way by bringing old and new, and finding connections you never thought existed.”
Channing had been the last pup born into the pack, and that was nearly two decades ago. During times of peace, the pack focused on increasing their numbers, but naturally that hadn’t happened in a while. Their lack of pups strained the structure of the pack even more after all these losses.
“Sure.” Channing looked away, blinking furiously. “Like…like your human.”
“Like her. Off you go,” Kodiak said, turning. His gaze went straight to the limp form of Olcan’s wolf.
There was only one thing left for him to do—say his final farewell. Then everything would be set in motion so they could recover from the attack.
Of course, then there was Tamaska, the very person who mattered so much to him, who hung back, trying to help, not knowing exactly what to do.
Her gaze was helpless.
“Just keep out of the way,” he said, keeping his tone soft.
She nodded, and the air of hurt was something he wanted to soothe, but Kodiak doubted he’d get the time.
He needed to be everywhere at once. And soothing her right now wasn’t a priority. It couldn’t be. No matter how much he wanted it to be. His life was so far removed from her human world, he would understand if she wanted to leave. Still, he was glad she hadn’t fled. He was surprised she hadn’t succumbed to her fear of dogs as she’d done before. The fight had changed them all on so many levels.
Kodiak knelt next to the fallen alpha, resting a hand on his head. He closed his eyes and whispered an old wolf prayer.
“You’ll wander no more
The wild lands of earth
Your life is lived
Your prints remain
On our souls.
Go free into the spirit world
Know you led us
Into the future.
Rest now,
We will remember you
Each time we howl
As you look down on us
From the moon.”
A hand came down, comforting, there on his shoulder. He turned. Tamaska stood next to him. Her presence offering silent and unspoken support that meant more than she could ever know.
Slowly, he rose.
“You can take him now. Make the arrangements before first light,” Kodiak instructed Skoll and Onai.
Kodiak watched in silence as they carefully carried Olcan’s wolf away.
“Are you all right?” Tamaska asked, her voice soft and calming in contrast to the horrors echoing through the room.
“I should be asking you that the same thing.” He pulled her into his arms, stealing a moment of tenderness. She was soft and warm against his body. Exactly what he needed.
“I’m fine.” It was a lie.
He pushed her away to look at her, not believing her words. She’d seen too much tonight. Definitely a lie. And that arm…
“You’re injured.” He stroked her arm, mindful not to touch her wounds.
“It will heal.”
Oh, it would, he could see that. Still, she wasn’t shifter so it would take longer than them. Especially if left on its own. “Make sure you find Fern. She’ll heal you.”
“I will.”
One of the pack members, now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, entered the room and paused respectfully nearby.
That was all the time he could have with Tamaska. His pack needed him, and he had to address their concerns. Otherwise, they might never recover from the attack.
“I’ll be fine,” said Tamaska.
He stepped away from her and the pack member held out a small pile of clothes that Kodiak accepted gratefully. He pulled them on. “What’s up”
The shifter cleared his throat. “We want to know where to dig the graves.”
“There’s the normal place, but….” Too many dead. That was what was unsaid. “Further out, the hunting grounds in the bush we own. It’s close but has enough space, and it seems like a good thing.”
“Okay, so there?”
Kodiak nodded. Yes, it would be perfect. Right at the edge of the bushland, and it would be perfect for digging. They could easily push aside the bushes, bury their dead, and return the plants so no one but the pack would know what lay below.
He’d go and help them prepare the earth. It was the least he could do.
“Actually, I’ll show you where.”
Tamaska hadn’t left yet.
“I thought I told you to find Fern.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But I thought maybe I could be better use—”
He took hold of her shoulders. “You’ll be of use healed and alive. And after you see her, go to Ash, okay?”
She nodded.
He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her gently on the lips. “Don’t go leaving the clubhouse.”
“I won’t.”
Her strength matched his, and he knew deep down that she was the only mate for him. But would the pack agree?
28
Kodiak
The pack stood in a semicircle; heads bowed in respect. The sky lightened with the birth of a new day, but the long night they’d survived would live on in Kodiak’s mind forever.
No doubt it would do the same in all of their minds.
He stood by the series of graves, which had been dug deep into the rich earth behind the clubhouse.
Each grave held one of their packmates, along with the means for a quick cremation.
Each shifter had been placed to spend eternity beneath plants and in areas they liked the most. They’d be remembered and honored each time one of the living went for a walk. Changed forms. Hunted or just ran free.
They’d been returned to the earth as it was meant to be.
Kodiak lifted his head to gaze at the last stars in the sky. He raised his arms.
The ceremony, so ingrained, would be his first to give. Yet as the words bubbled up, they felt right, if loaded with the sorrow of the pack.
“We give thanks to those who served us and protected us with the best of their skill,” said Kodiak. His voice rang clear and strong.
“We release them to the spirit world. The marks of their paws will remain forever in our hearts as we move forward into a new future.”
Kodiak motioned to the pack. Several members—those who’d lost someone important and special to them—strode forward, and each one stood in front of a grave.
Tamaska stayed just to his side, respectfully close but also out of the way.
And he hoped either Fern or Ash had explained the ceremony to her, otherwise it might be confusing. But her presence warmed him. He took a breath and recited the prayers for the dead.
“The moon reminds us
Of those who came before
Building the pack
We will forever
Remain strong
Thanks to the heart
Of our members
Who now walk in the spirit world.”
All around him power swelled. It was soft yet harsh, something born of them and nature, like the souls of the dead returning to the world they ultimately came from.
He let it flow through him, to give him strength to finally give the final prayer.
As Kodiak recited it, the others joined in, their voices soft in the early morning air.
He’d always felt this power at times of passing over, but with so many, the surge tingled in his fingers, given more substance from the prayer.
“Gone now
We remember
We continue to fight
And uphold our laws
Until it is our time
To join them.”
Kodiak picked up a small clay bowl at the head of the nearest grave. He glanced down at the bloodstained, white cloth where his former leader lay underneath.
He lifted the bowl for all to see. The others copied him, raising the brown pots above their heads.
Olcan had gone long before his time. Kodiak vowed once more to make the vampires pay for their attack. To make sure his entire pack realized his intention, he made his own promise.
“Here me now
Our ancestors
Who walked this new land
Where we sought refuge
Those who did this will pay
We will not be broken or destroyed
By our enemies. “
The pack members joined in with agreements, the promises spoken individually but understood as one.
“Farewell our loved ones
Roam free in the night skies
Shine bright as new stars.”
He crouched, extended his arm, then tipped the contents of the pot into the grave. Flames burst over the covered body. He stayed there for a moment, letting the sudden heat wash over him, until he stood and stepped back.
The others did the same to each grave. The firelight pushed away the last of the night’s darkness from each line of graves.
Kodiak stood, honoring silently in memory, his leader and the others who had died. Their losses wouldn’t be in vain. The vampires would not break them.
“Above the ashes
We remain
We continue
To protect.”
As one, everyone removed their clothes.
He changed into his wolf form, lifted his nose to the sky, and let out a long, hollow howl. Every pack member shifted, too, and joined him in a sad song.
His fur stood on end as the howls echoed in his ears. The heat of the flames offered no comfort, only reminding him of the emptiness that remained.
Once the last of the fires had died and all the bodies had burned to ash, Kodiak transformed back into his human shape and dressed. He picked up a shovel and began to fill the grave.
The others did the same.
Knowing that Tamaska stood in reverent silence by his side helped to soothe his aching heart. Now that the burial had been completed, it was time to get serious and plan how to get revenge on the vampires.
The pack quickly returned the bushes to their places over the graves. The dried leaves scattered until the area looked the same as it had before the graves had been dug. But Kodiak and his pack would always know what change had taken place.
Would always know where their loved ones lay to rest.
As the first light broke across the sky, a brilliant red extended across the horizon. Kodiak stood, ready to address his pack.
“I’m saying it again, this time plainly. I promise to make the vampires pay,” he said. “As your new alpha, I will do this. And we will all prevail. These deaths won’t be in vain.”
“You’re forgetting something,” Shota said as he pushed to the front of the crowd.
