Page 6 of Werewolves Don't Howl
I sighed. “I guess I didn’t need to call you if you’ve got it taken care of. You’re the best alpha in the world.”
“I’m glad you think so. Hopefully, you’ll have the same opinion of me in ten minutes. But you won’t. Ridley’s gone to the Alta to put in a complaint about me. That means that they’ll force you if I don’t. You don’t want them to force you, so you’d better work with me.”
My stomach tightened as his ominous words echoed in my head. The Alta Manada was the ruling werewolf body for our continent. “Force me to what?”
“Choose a mate and protector, as law dictates a turned female do. Move into the pack district in Song. This is the law. We all know Ridley is a pain and a problem, but he’s also good media with connections you lack. I wouldn’t care what anyone pressures me to do, but you are in significant danger. I can’t actually protect you when you’ve removed yourself physically from the pack. There are reasons for these laws, and they’re not all bad. So far you’ve been safe, but it was bound to come down to this, eventually. You’re just lucky you had so many years to figure things out before you were mated to some random furry.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “And if I refuse?”
“The Alta will come for you. They’ll stick you with whoever wants you with the most power. It usually works out as we wolves worship our mates, and it’s hard to resent someone who adores you more than the moon, but you’ve always been difficult. Is it the gnome or the elf that’s so anti-wolf?”
“I love wolves. It’s the were that’s problematic for me. And if I run?”
“You’ll be hunted. You know the pack. Choose a mate from those you know and like.”
I brightened up suddenly. There was one person that I absolutely couldn’t have. “Sure. You, Max. I choose you.” I tried to make my breath breathy and romantic.
He snorted. “Nope. The best thing about being an alpha, no one mates me without my consent. Think about it. I’ll see you after work. We’ll go to dinner at the community center. You choose your mate. Case closed. No more psychopath Ridley’s setting up to stalk you like the easy prey you are.”
My beast would rip Ridley apart. But he wasn’t really the problem. The trouble was that I’d been reported to the Alta Manada.
“There has to be another option,” I said. “It’s not right that turned wolves are treated different from born.”
“But they are different. Born have families, big ones, and you’ve got nobody. It’s not safe. And you’re fresh blood to keep the gene pool from getting too inbred.”
“That’s Ridley’s problem? His inbred genetics?”
“It’s something. There’s always a shortage of wolf females, and you’re sweet. You’d be adored by whoever you chose.”
“Except you.”
He laughed. “You’re too sweet for me.”
“You just wait, Max. You’re going to fall for the absolute worst person. She’ll be a mermaid.”
“I’m already mated to the moon. Anyway, after work, the community center. If you run, you’ll be hunted. Ridley will definitely volunteer. You don’t want him to catch you. They might mate you to him if it gets that far.” He hung up, leaving me feeling cold in spite of the delicious golden sunshine soaking into my skin.
My time was running out. If I mated to a werewolf, it would only be a matter of time before the news got back to my family, my boss. The rumbling growl in the back of my mind was going to give me a headache. She’d already found her mate, and she wanted him to torture her some more. Stupid wolf. I’d choose any other mate before that monster.
I went back to work, finished writing up the interviews I hadn’t actually gotten to take, but no one would mind if I made something up. I knew what they would have said if werewolf instincts hadn’t taken over. For Ridley, I had to do some research, to see what kind of interviews he usually gave. They were generic ego stuff if with men, slimy if they were with women. The really interesting thing is that there had been a slew of disappearances in Golden, one in particular that Ridley was connected to. That is, he’d been interviewed about it, because he’d dated the female before she’d disappeared. If he had something to do with it, he’d covered it up better than I’d expect someone with his subtlety. No, if he had, someone else was covering it up for him. The plot thickens. And he was leaving me dead animals. Delightful.
“Delphi, do you have those interviews?” Bertram asked, leaning against my cubicle wall.
I nodded. “I’ll email them right this second. You missed a good game.”
“Yeah, I watched from home, so I got that bit worked up already, but it’s not the same as seeing it live. Thanks again for taking a hit for the team. You’re a life saver.” He looked tired. Tax season was exhausting for everyone. I needed to get on mine, but I needed to figure out what to do about the pack meet tonight. Max was the most open-minded, nontraditional werewolf I’d ever met, in spite of being born into one of the biggest clans in the country. The fact that he didn’t feel like I had any choice, that my freedom and independence were over, was more than slightly discouraging. Not only discouraging but frustratingly outrageous. What century were we living in, that I didn’t get to choose for myself, just because I had the misfortune of being turned against my will? That just compounded the injustice.
I took a deep breath and let it out, along with the anger and negativity. I didn’t have time for that. What I needed to do was research more about pack law. If I could find a loophole, I wouldn’t get stuck with some perfectly nice wolf that I didn’t want, that my family would never accept, and that would just be hurt in the process, emotionally and physically if my wolf got out of control. She would wait forever for her true mate, the psychopathic sadist who had kept me alive while I turned, torturing me in the process. For months. Needless to say, my beast and I had very different ideas of what constituted a healthy relationship.
I went to the Library of Antiquities, feeling the age and magnitude of the tomes weighting down the billions of shelves while I crossed the marble lobby beneath the enormous chandelier to the front desk. I asked the clerk where I could find the section on werewolf law. That got raised brows.
“I have some texts in Latin, but…” he said, looking at me skeptically.
“Latin is fine.”
“Also Elvish,” he added, giving me another dubious glance. I looked sweet, cute, and slightly stupid.
“Also fine.” I smiled sweetly at him. “I’m fairly confident in both languages.” I never got tired of being pegged as uneducated. Sigh.
