Page 1 of Wolf Pack

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Searching for any sign of danger on the ocean, Alasdair, a gray wolf and the clan chief in the Highlands, observed the sea during his morning scouting mission high above the cliffs. Vigilant and wary, he knew his duty was to keep his pack safe at all costs at Ghealach Castle and the surrounding territory. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the rough waves.

To his dismay, he believed he spotted two Viking longships approaching, briefly visible atop the waves, then disappearing into the troughs before the early morning light appeared on the horizon.

As a wolf, he could see movement and details at a distance better than humans, but the choppy waves obstructed his view of the ships. He could only discern so much from this distance despite his heightened senses. The ships, if indeed longships, were still too far away to make out any distinguishing features.

He couldn't shake the feeling that they were enemy ships. After Vikings raided them last summer and he lost seven of his men in battle because they were caught unaware, they were on edge that the raiders would hit them again. He couldn't risk ignoring what could be a potential threat.

He continued to observe, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for more signs of the ships, if it wasn’t just a mirage. A small part of him hoped that nothing was there or that only harmless traders or fishermen were sailing on the sea. His instincts told him otherwise.

The decision had to be made soon. He needed to warn his people and prepare for battle if the ships were manned with raiders. They couldn't afford to be caught off-guard like last time.

He shut his eyes to rest them, hoping for a clearer view before opening them again. The full moon illuminated the dark water. One of the ships suddenly turned just so that the moonlight struck it, revealing a large, square-rigged sail on a mast positioned midship.

The sight made his heart skip a beat. He recognized it as a Viking longship, unmistakable in its shape. Other ships might also have large, square sails, but none would travel in this area, and none—other than a Viking ship—carried a crew of raiders who would kill and plunder.

He assessed the horizon, calculating that the vessels would take several hours to reach their shores. That meant they had precious time preparing for the impending battle against the brigands. Perhaps it would even allow their allied friends to arrive on time to lend a hand in the fight. He prayed they wouldn’t have to engage the raiders out in the open before they reached the safety of the castle.

With a deep breath, he raised his chin and unleashed a powerful howl that echoed through the air, a call to his clan and his pack at the nearby Ghealach Castle. Moments later, two of his men's answering howls reverberated to him, a fierce affirmation that they understood his concern.

He watched the ships grow closer, though still disappearing in the troughs of the waves and still hours away, trying todetermine their direction. They were headed in his path. He would send others in shifts to watch the progress of the ships. Even if the Vikings didn’t land close to his castle’s location, once they landed, they could still head this way later.

Alasdair sprinted back toward the keep without hesitation, urgency propelling him forward. Every able-bodied man would need to stand and defend against the Viking raiders, and time was of the essence.

When he saw the castle, wagons carrying food entered the outer bailey, as was usual at this time of day. He darted through the carts and people into the inner bailey. The scene that greeted him was one of focused preparation and a little chaos.

His men rapidly assembled, their expressions resolute as they gathered weapons—swords gleaming, axes swinging in the air, and shields raised high. As he passed, they inclined their heads in acknowledgment, a silent vow of solidarity and courage readying them for the fierce onslaught ahead.

“How many ships did you see?” His brother Hans greeted him, carrying Alasdair’s clothes for him as men and women hurried past them, gathering supplies and sheltering crofters and local villagers within the castle walls.

Alasdair shifted and rushed to dress. “Two Gokstad longships, if I’m correct. That means a crew of around thirty-two.”

“Were you able to count the sixteen oars on the ships?”

“Nay, too far from shore. But I saw one of the ship’s square sails in the moonlight. They are Viking longships, to be sure. And the size looked like that of a Gokstad longship.”

“We’ll be ready for them.” Hans ground his teeth. “But they’ll have nearly forty warriors. What if there are more than two vessels?”

“Possibly. I need several watchmen to observe the ships throughout the day.”

The Vikings would outnumber the Highlanders even with just the crews of the two longships. Alasdair’s clan was only thirty strong, but seven were women, and they didn’t fight like the Viking women did if their crew had women warriors.

Alasdair’s clan also had two children. Counting the villagers, they had more women and children they were taking in to safeguard.

After the last fight with the Viking raiders, most of the farmers had some battle training. For that reason, his warriors trained them in the art of combat once daily. Everyone was determined to stop the marauders and protect their kin.

“If we are lucky, Erik and his clansmen will be here before the Vikings arrive.” Alasdair stuck hissgian dubhinto his boot.

Their quadruplet brother Rory hurried out of the keep to join them. “Some women are preparing to care for the wounded, while others are cooking a meal now to feed our people. We’re arranging for everyone who arrived from the villages and farms to sleep in the inner bailey. Do you think Erik and his people will arrive in time?”

“I pray it is so. We have several hours before the Vikings arrive if they dinna head in another direction, which is possible. I want one of our people to be a lookout—in wolf form—watching the sea so that they will know which way the ships go.” That was one great thing about the Viking raiders. The raiders didn’t have wolf shifters among them.

Because of that, Alasdair and his wolves could see them even at night, hear them trying to sneak up on them, and smell them from a mile and a half away, depending on how the wind was blowing.

Their sister, Bessetta, hurried to join them as seriously as possible. Her blond hair was braided behind her back, and her blue eyes were worried. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Alasdair frowned at her. He didn’t want her near where the Vikings might come ashore.

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