Dawn's Destiny

Nash closed the door behind Drew and locked it tight. Grant paced the room on the verge of becoming unhinged. His wolf barely restrained in the wrapper of his human skin, growling and barring his teeth at Nash in threat. He'd barely managed to avoid a confrontation between the two men. And Grant needed some time to cool off before he did something utterly stupid like challenge him or worse, the Great White Wolf. Grant was a powerful wolf and when he didn't have his head up his ass or his mind set on taking over as pack master, a real asset. Nash did not want to see him dead as a result of a battle for a female that so obviously was not his and did not want him. "Grant, go take a walk."

Tala shrank back into a corner as Grant pinned her with his gaze as he stormed out of the living room. His eyes so filled with the fury of his wolf and tinged with far too human bruised emotions. They had been best friends at one time. And she didn't want to see him hurt. But, he'd grown up into a wolf her wolf and she wanted no part of. She could not even instinctually allow herself to fall for a wolf that would someday try to kill her father.

The dining room was a hive of conversation and the clanking of plates and silverware as the pack dug in. The table talk of the evening was about the upcoming cookout tomorrow night. Tala ignored it and her empty seat at the table. And by doing so she was not only insulting the cooks who had prepared the meal but defying her father as well. Her father made his annoyance known and the din of chatter hushed to whispers as the pack felt the rising tension between them.

No doubt, Drew would see her refusal to sit at the table and eat while there was still a morsel of food to be had as childish. Not that she cared how he might have interpreted her behavior. She was not a pouting child. The fact was nobody defied a pack master. And her father was not used to taking lip from anybody. He expected to have his words followed to the letter. And it was ingrained into every wolf's psyche to obey a more potent alpha. Instead, she stood her ground, her back planted firmly against the cheerful yellow patterned wallpaper to prove her point. And her point? That she was in control of her own destiny. "I'm not going," Tala said defiantly.

Nash set down the fork loaded with the last bite of meatloaf on his plate midway to putting it into his mouth. The handle of the fork landed against the plate with a solid, metallic clank and bits of hamburger and gravy splattered the otherwise empty surface. He knew his daughter could be a handful. She always had been. He'd done his best not to make a scene when she hadn't sat down at the table to eat. He engaged the pack in talk about the upcoming cookout and had volunteered her to handle the fragile process of communication between the pack and the brotherhood when she spoke up.

Nash glared at the untouched meatloaf on her plate in front of her empty seat at the table and shifted his eyes to the defiant tilt of her chin and the hard, determined set of her mouth. He reached out and gripped Tala's bicep hauling her to her seat. Determined to put her ass in the chair and her openly defiant attitude in its proper place. The pack's very lives depended on obeying his commands without hesitation. The wolves relied on him as their alpha to keep order. And he could not allow Tala any slight simply because she was his daughter.

Crushing her freewill with the power of his aura Nash said, "Tala. You and I are going to talk after dinner. You are going to eat. You are going to shower and make yourself look presentable. And. You. Are. Going. To. Go. Tomorrow." Nobody at the table dared to as much as breathe as she dragged her feet, resisting him and the power of his alpha. It was a battle to gain as much as an inch. Wrestling her to the empty chair had the wolves in an immediately volatile state of agitation. And she'd ruined everyone's appetites by her show of will. Dismissing his pack and focusing solely on his daughter he hauled Tala out of the dining room and down the hall to his study. Slamming the door tightly behind them.

His alpha roared inside of his head. Demanding Tala's obedience. Tala's wolf cowered in the corner of her mind, hovering between bristling to protect her from the more powerful wolf and instinctively cowing to the alpha. Nash released Tala's arm. Infuriated by the way she continued to glower at him as if he'd been the one to commit some grievous wrong. "I don't pretend to understand what has gotten into you. But, I can't have you moping about like a depressed teenager who didn't get asked to the prom. What in the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted in her face out of sheer frustration.

The wolf in Tala bristled its fur and bared its teeth. Her side in this little spat chosen. A deep growl rumbled deep in her throat and her eyes landed on the fingerprint bruises he'd left behind from his grip on her arm. She was close to the line. Teetering on the edge. But, so was her father. She wasn't going to tell him a thing. She was a grown woman and her issues were none of his business. She loved him. And he loved her. They'd always had a very good relationship. But, how could she even begin to put the thoughts in her head into words? And how could she discuss them with him?

Nash focused his brown eyes on his daughter's. Tala had growled at him in threat. Directly challenging his authority. She had crossed the line. And he guessed he was too easy on her. Too easy going with the pack and everyone needed a little refresher course now and then on exactly who was top dog. Gathering the power of his alpha wolf to him, he hit her with the full force of his aura. Staring her down. Their eyes locked for several intense moments before Tala yielded, casting her gaze to the floor in submission. "You must trust that everything I do is for the good of the pack, Tala. And as much as I love you, I can't put your needs before theirs."

Tala wasn't sorry about her act of defiance. She was only sorry that her father had pushed her to it. Blinking back tears, she nodded and drew in a deep breath. Her little performance tonight would no doubt reach Grant's ears and give him just a little more courage to challenge her father. She had to be the obedient daughter she always had been. Times were too dangerous for her to be as selfish as she had been recently. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just...," she shook her head, unable to explain exactly what emotions she was feeling.

Nash gathered Tala into his arms and hugged her lovingly. They'd been so close until lately. And while he still had his place in her heart. He no longer had the space all to himself. He supposed he'd have to learn to share it with Drew. "I'm sorry too, Tala. Sometimes, I wonder if I shouldn't have taken the easier path and let you and your brothers live completely ordinary human lives."

Tala eased out of her father's arms and traced the scars crisscrossing the right side of his cheek with a fingertip. She'd come so close to losing him that day. Challenges could not go unanswered. And her father held back in hopes of saving the younger and much weaker wolf's life. One moment of poorly timed hesitation had almost cost him his instead. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, she pulled his head forward so that their foreheads and noses touched. That day, he'd killed for the pack. It hadn't been the first time either.

Pack masters weren't born into the position. He'd killed his own father for the title. He was born to lead. And to hear him questioning it, questioning everything that he was and how he'd raised her and her brothers and sisters broke her heart. She could not imagine an ordinary human life. She only knew the life she had here with the pack. And she did not want a different one. "We don't do easy, Dad."

Nash chuckled and rested his cheek in Tala's palm. Nope, this family did not do easy. Never had. A mating with Grant would have been far easier than falling in love with the man she'd chosen. Love was not an easy path, no matter who you walked it with. And in a world where divorce did not exist, it could be damn rocky for two that were absolutely not compatible. "We wouldn't be who we are if we did," he said.

Chapter 7

Tala closed the door, leaving her father in his study alone with his thoughts. Her stomach grumbled reminding her that she'd missed meatloaf night completely. As good as the lingering scent of supper smelled, she could not bring herself to go ransack the kitchen for any leftovers. Seeing Drew had been like pulling the cork out of the bottle. And she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to put the cork back in place.

The living room was a crowded, noisy place. As good as a wolf's hearing was there shouldn't be a need for the TV to be turned up full blast. But, it was. Their eyesight was even better. But, the kids huddled around the screen shoulder to shoulder engrossed in some program they probably shouldn't be watching in the first place. The sound of a radio playing and dishes clanking together came from the kitchen. The pound of footsteps against the second and third floors sounded over her head as the pack settled in for the night. There wasn't a quiet place left in the house to hide. And she could stand the thought of being confined in her room even less than she could stomach the thought of food.

She needed time alone to think. Selecting a pair of shoes that were roughly her size from the pile in the bottom of the coat closet and taking a set of keys off the hook by the front door, she slid into a jacket two sizes too big and headed for the rusty truck parked at the edge of the drive. She climbed behind the wheel of the aged pick up truck and ground the engine. Sputtering and wheezing the engine clattered to life. How it had made the trip from Nevada to here in one rusty hulk was nothing short of divine intervention. Jamming the reluctant gear into reverse, she backed out. Pressing the brake pedal to the floor to stop the truck's roll down the sloping gravel drive she slid into drive and pulled out.

The truck bumped and heaved its way down the remote gravel road, bouncing over potholes and the washboard roughness, tossing her about the interior and rattling the enamel off her teeth. She had a full tank of gas, if the gauge was to be believed, and no particular destination in mind. Stars twinkled from above in a cloudless velvet dark sky. A cool breeze washed over her heated cheeks from the open window. The truck handled with the grace of a Sherman tank. The front end danced and shimmed, the wheel vibrating in her grip as she navigated onto the main highway and pushed the engine to a reasonable speed.

Tears blurred her vision and rolled down her heated cheeks. Her hair tangled in the wind and tickled her neck. This time of night there were no cars on the highway. Everything was quiet. Everyone tucked into bed. And the windows on the scattered farmhouses she sped past, dark. The dim headlights barely highlighted the welcome sign neatly tucked into a dense copse of trees. A full moon shone overhead. But, the blackness seemed to swallow up every last glimmer of light. The speedometer hovered somewhere around seventy. She was driving far too fast for the darkness and the narrowness of the two-lane highway. She didn't see the buck dart out of the fields and in front of the truck until it was too late. Planting her foot on the brake and wrestling with the steering wheel to keep the truck on the road she hit the deer and lost control of the truck, sending it plowing through a barbed wire fence into a ditch.

The scent of fresh kill was too much for her wolf to ignore. Pushing against the door with all her might, Tala forced it open and tumbled out. Jarred and somewhat stunned from the wreck. She stumbled and tripped over her own feet, face planting in the freshly plowed field. Her body ached and her temples throbbed. The shift tore through her and the wolf so much a part of her, took control.

The wolf did not like the stink of unnatural things she could not identify lingering in the air. Wrinkling her nose at the smell and the images Tala's mind supplied her with. She hedged around the source of the stink. Her belly rumbled as the aroma of fresh blood and meat filled her nostrils. She was too hungry to over think the promise of a good supper. After a quick sniff at the deer's carcass, she enthusiastically dug in.

Mack was parked at his favorite spot for catching speeders. When he spotted the oncoming headlights of the truck barreling down the highway, he grinned in satisfaction and clicked his pen in anticipation. This one was going to be a good one. Out of state plates. Going so fast, that he considered adding reckless driving to the ticket. And hmmm, was that a taillight out? He thought so.

This late at night, the driver could be a drunk out on a bender. He hated the drunks. Fucking idiots. The One Shot had closed about twenty minutes ago. And he usually hauled in at least a couple of inebriated drivers every weekend. It was only Wednesday. But, maybe the party started early this week. For the driver's sake, he hoped not. But, if he so much as caught a whiff of booze on the driver's breath. He had a nice, comfortable jail cell and an orange designer suit along with a very hefty fine and hours of community service needing to be done. He flipped on the lights and siren and pulled out from behind the welcome sign.

When the brake lights flashed in front of him and the body of a buck flew up over the truck's hood and landed in a still heap at the side of the road. The truck fishtailed before careening across the centerline and slamming through Ike Taylor's rusty barbed wire fence and into the ditch. "Damn it!" he cursed, pulling over.

Mack saw a petite woman stumble out of the driver's side and exhaled the breath he'd been holding. She was dazed, but didn't look injured, just startled. And that was very, very good. He hated the dead ones. The fatal car crash that killed Robbie's parents had been bad enough to almost force him into early retirement. He didn't know if he could handle walking up on something like that again. Somehow, it was worse if it was somebody you knew.

He blinked as the woman's body shimmered and contorted in spasms as a gut wrenching crunch and the wet sound of flesh reforming rent the air. He stared open mouthed, his hand resting on the mic of his walkie-talkie about to call in the wreck totally unwilling to believe his eyes. A wolf stood on spindly legs in the place the woman had fallen and shook loose the remnants of her tattered clothes. Still not believing it, he inched his way backwards to his cruiser and grabbed the standard police issue long-range rifle from the nifty plastic holder to the left of the passenger side seat.

Double-checking to make sure the rifle was actually loaded. He cocked the shell and crept cautiously around the beat up truck. He had a 9 millimeter handgun holstered at his hip. But, somehow, holding the powerful and bigger rifle made him feel safer. He froze as the wolf pinned him in her far too intelligent, far too human golden stare. Mack really, really wished he wasn't seeing what he was seeing. Just when he thought he'd reached the pinnacle of weirdness. The paranormal world threw in another interesting twist for fun.

The wolf was fucking huge. Granted, he'd never actually seen a real wolf except for at the zoo and therefore had no true gauge to judge by though. But, out on a deserted country highway, beneath the glow of the full moon, alone in the middle of the night, the black she-wolf with the human eyes and blood from the buck dripping off her muzzle was pretty goddamned big. Hell, in this situation a Chihuahua would have been imposing. People did not change into wolves and wolves did not change into people. But, this woman had.

The wolf's body shimmered and contorted, as the woman's had and Mack felt the unmistakable tingle of magic brush across the hairs at the back of his neck. Exhaling a shuddering breath, he looked away and swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. The expression green around the gills was an understatement. He watched unable to force his eyes to focus anywhere else as the wolf's body twisted and changed shape into the woman's. He lowered his rifle, resting his weight on the wooden stock and dragged his hand across his weary forehead. Retirement never looked so good. He should quit and let someone else handle the bullshit weirdness that came with the paranormal world. And as soon as Dane found a suitable replacement, one that could keep a secret, he planned to do just that.

She lay naked beside the carcass. Confused and dazed as she blinked up at him. Her face covered in the buck's drying blood. Slowly, not to startle her, Mack reached for the cell phone attached to his utility belt. The special phone he kept in reach at all times, even when he was in the shower. He hit speed dial and pressed the phone to his ear. A familiar voice picked up on the other end. A voice of reason that would not have the slightest hesitation to tell him he was really bat shit insane and there was no naked woman blinking the loveliest set of big brown eyes he'd ever seen at him.

"Dane, you believe in werewolves?" He grimaced at Dane's reply. Nope, he wasn't crazy. He was sane as ever and as always, in the thick of all the weird shit. "I think you need to come to the station." Too bad he didn't drink anything stronger than coffee on the job. He could sure use a good stiff shot of whiskey right now. Werewolves. Who knew?

Mack ran to the cruiser and fished a blanket out of the trunk. Kneeling low, keeping things nice and calm, he draped the rough, green, woolen blanket over her shoulders. "Honey, are you ok?" He skimmed a hand across his stubbly jaw when she didn't answer right away and barely managed a quick nod. "Come on," he said gently. Extending a hand, he helped her to her feet and guided her to the car by the shoulders. Gently and very, very carefully, placing her in the backseat with the thick steel mesh of the divider separating them.

Tala sat stunned in the back of the squad car watching the lights grow somewhat brighter as they neared the town. To say today had not been one of her better days was the understatement of the year. She'd gone willingly with the officer, Sheriff Mack Brown, according to the brass nametag pinned to his breast pocket. Really what choice did she have? He'd seen her shift. And until she could figure out a way to control the situation it was best to comply with whatever he wanted. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and wondered exactly how she was going to get herself out of this mess.

"I'll go get her," Drew said. He was relieved that the accident hadn't resulted in any injuries. The truck, according to Mack, was most likely totaled. And of course, the truck had to be towed in, the deer carcass had to be cleaned up, and the busted fence repaired. The tire tracks and skid marks erased. And any trace of anything amiss put back to rights. People talked in this small of a town. And the less they had to talk about, the better for the Sons. "You and John Mark get the truck back to the house, if you can. If not, you know who to call."

"Ok," Dane replied. His curiosity peaked as to why Drew would do such a mundane task as fetching Tala and seeing that she got home safely. Unless, his earlier suspicions were true, and their illustrious leader had been thoroughly and hopelessly bitten by the love bug. Dane quickly squashed the thought. Not his business. Not his place. Meddling was for Janine. And if she caught wind of a possible romance in the works, nobody in the compound would have a moment of peace.

Tala shivered, the wreck, rapid shift into the wolf, and even quicker shift back had taken their toll on her body. She was exhausted and still trying to figure out exactly how she was going to get herself out of this mess. And it was a mess. She doubted that the local sheriff routinely locked up accident victims. But, here she was sitting on a hard, metal bench inside of a cell. He'd offered her clothing and she'd refused. They smelled like the rest of this place, of sweat and humanity, and the pungent tinge of desperation. Besides, she had no problem flashing a good length of leg if it would soften Mack up a little.