Grayson's Wolf Ch. 01

ALL CHARACTERS IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS ARE OVER 18.

Characters are fictional.

I welcome emails from writers and fans.

Also, thanks to all the readers who have reached out and become friends. For all those who have sent compliments, this story is for you!

Enjoy!

MJ

*****

Chapter 1

Grayson Armstrong struggled to get back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open. He became dimly aware he felt like he'd been shoved through a paper shredder. And then very aware.

The verdant canvas of leaves, with their licks and whispers of red and gold on the edges gave him a bit of comfort until he remembered why he was flat on the forest floor.

He closed his eyes.

Grayson had been fantasizing about all the sex he wanted and wasn't having, a dangerous thing to do when you're alone in the woods. Even if you're a werewolf. Hell, especially if you're a werewolf.

Grayson carefully felt the edges of the agonizing slashes across his chest. One was over his heart and came close to being perilously deep.

What the thrashaulers did to him, and whatever poison was on their sharp claws, was harsher than he anything he ever experienced. Hell, harsher than anything he ever imagined. Not that that was how he spent his time thinking about thrashaulers. They hadn't been spotted since before his time.

They'd left him for dead. Judging by how he felt, he wasn't far from it. But he was alive. He was an Alpha; he'd heal fast. A split second wouldn't be fast enough for him, because right now he felt like he'd been mauled by a bear and been run over by a truck. It hurt to breathe. Grayson concentrated on relaxing his muscles. It wasn't like he was going to be getting up anytime soon anyway.

Grayson wasn't going to slide peacefully into the abyss. Even as his eyes fluttered closed again, he knew he had to stay alive long enough to explain the attack to his sister.

Grayson's sister Kinley was running as fast as she could. Without breaking stride she changed into her wolf. In her wolf form her back stood at just over four feet tall; her legs were long and ate up the ground in a frenzy of speed. The light grey, tan, and white of her coat flashed between the trees.

Grayson. Grayson. Grayson. Grayson.

She stopped and sniffed.

Blood.

She was close.

Kinley adjusted her path a tiny bit and took off again, weaving between the trees like a Mercedes zooming around oncoming traffic at super speed.

She came to the small clearing and stopped so quickly she had to dig her nails into the dirt to prevent falling forward.

Oh my God, he's dead. Dead.

Kinley changed back into her human form. Thank God she had enough power to change back and forth so easily.

Slowly she approached the body.

No. No. Not my brother.

Kinley crouched down beside him.

Gingerly she reached out for a pulse. It was weak but there.

"Kinley?" Grayson's voice was hoarse and weak.

"Thank God," Kinley said. "What happened?"

"Thrashaulers."

"This far north?"

Grayson coughed and his chest sent pain messages to every part of his body that all his cuts were on fire.

"Apparently," Grayson said.

Kinley bent down further to inspect the cuts. "What is this?" she asked looking at the small yellow froth bubbling up from each one. "Why aren't the cuts healing?"

Grayson was going to shake his head but thought better of it. "Poison, I think."

"Oh God. Okay. We have to get you back to the pack den."

"I'm not sure I should move. I'm not sure I can move."

"I'll bring Trimmner to you then."

The idea of the small, kind healer coming through the woods when thrashaulers could be near was enough to make Grayson willing to get up. He groaned loudly as he lifted his head and shoulders.

"Here, let me help you."

As Grayson slowly struggled up to standing he looked around. The trees were so beautiful; his home, his pack's land, his sanctuary. All the green and brown with the pale yellow, burnished gold, fiery orange, and deep red, ushering in the fall season. He couldn't stand the thought of thrashaulers on his land, hunting his people.

Kinley helped Grayson get all the way up to standing.

"Here, lean on me."

Kinley ducked under Grayson's arm and propped him up as they started to walk.

"Jeez brother, you weigh a ton."

"You would too if you were six foot three of solid muscle. Or no-longer-solid sliced up muscle."

"Yeah. That wouldn't look good on me. But you, you're so sliced up we could use you to make sandwiches."

"Don't make me laugh."

"No 'Mommy, Mommy why do some kids call me a werewolf'?"

Grayson's stomach convulsed slightly as he fought down a laugh, even though he'd heard the joke so many times before Kinley didn't deliver the punch line. But it sprang to Grayson's mind anyway.

'That's because you don't remember to take your friends out of your mouth before you speak.'

Grayson smiled. Kinley always could make him feel better.

"How'd you find me?" he asked. "I mean, why did you come looking for me? You were looking for me, weren't you?" Grayson grimaced. Talking while he was walking. Not a good idea. Sort of like operating a chainsaw while having a root canal.

"I just sensed you were in trouble and where you were. I wasn't going to ignore that kind of instinct. I ran faster than I ever have in my life. Eventually I could sniff the blood smell and I followed that."

Grayson weaved and stumbled. His vision browned out and he almost lost consciousness.

"Come on Grayson. Not that much farther now. Come on, stay with me. You'll be fucking heavy to carry."

Grayson breathed in fiercely through his nose, determined not to go down.

"Oh fuck," he said right before he fell.

"Grayson!"

He was only down for a minute. Kinley helped him get back up to standing. They walked a few more feet. Both of them stopped short, instincts screaming on high alert as the smell of rotting fruit and the crunching of leaves reached them.

Thrashaulers.

"How long?" Kinley whispered.

Grayson frowned, thinking. It was almost impossible to accurately calculate the distance. His fear enhanced his hearing slightly but also made him less sure of his judgement. He tried to take in the play of wind strong trunks of the trees bouncing the sounds slightly. Then he had to account for not really knowing how fast those foul abominations were going in the first place.

"Three or four minutes," Grayson said.

Kinley muffled a curse, and then cursed again when Grayson tried to take a fighting stance.

"You can't," Kinley whispered.

Grayson's silver-grey eyes pinned her with a steely glare.

"You don't have enough energy to change and you can barely stand up," Kinley whispered so quietly it had almost no tone but it came out as fiercely as if she shouted it. "If you get even a light swipe, with whatever that poison is, it could be lights out permanently this time."

It only took a second for Grayson to realize she was right.

"And if I'm worried about you I won't be able to fight as well."

Grayson rolled his lips into a thin line. He hated the idea of her fighting.

"You should run," he said quietly. "Run."

Kinley shook her head and ducked under his arm to support him. She pulled him along as quickly as she could.

"I'll never make it, they're almost twice as fast as us," she said.

So this will help? Grayson thought. But then he realized where she was going. Just a few feet away was a tiny cave with two huge fallen trees surrounding it.

Grayson put on a little burst of speed, ignoring his woozy feeling and that the world browned out around him again.

Then they were there. Kinley pushed him down, and he shimmied into the cave, feet first, face up.

Kinley moved a branch with abundant leaves over the front of the opening. Then she changed.

She was even fiercer with her adrenaline pumping and the hair on her back standing straight up as she prepared to fight.

The sounds of crunching leaves and twigs grew closer.

I'll never make it out of this alive, Kinley thought. She crouched slightly, ready to spring.

Bring it on, you evil undead fuckers. I'm ready for you.

The rustling got louder. The stench got stronger. Then three thrashaulers burst into the clearing. Kinley and the thrashaulers stared at each other for a millisecond. Then two thrashaulers dived toward her and with a huge lunge she surged up to meet them.

They crashed into each other mid air. It was a lot like two jet planes smashing into a toy helicopter. But Kinley took a huge ripping bite out of the neck of the one on her left, clamped down, and twisted sharply to force him down on the ground. They fell with a loud thud. Out of the corner of her eye Kinley saw the second thrashauler jump toward her back, and she rolled out of the way, just in time, taking a chunk of the throat of the first monster with her.

Kinley sprang to her feet at the same time the thrashauler did. She was very careful to dodge the swipes. She managed to dodge him by inches, but it gave her no change to go on the offensive.

The battle wore on. The thrashaulers got more aggressive. One growled and bared his teeth to reveal huge fangs. He foamed at the mouth. He tracked her movements, and swung his big, dirty claws at her.

From the corner of her eye she saw the third thrashauler move to join the fight, and in the second she was looking away the thrashauler closest to her raked his claws across her haunches in a vicious slice.

The pain was incredible and Kinley whimpered. The two thrashaulers took advantage of her weakness and rolled her over and pinned her down.

This is it, Kinley thought.

One of them opened his jaws unnaturally wide and went for her head.

Grayson burst out of the cave like a missile and took down the thrashauler in a fraction of a second, quickly twisting its neck which broke with a gruesome cracking sound.

The other thrashauler stood up, letting go of Kinley to face the new threat. The thrashauler lunged at Grayson. At the last second Grayson pivoted and as the thrashauler started to sail past him he plunged his right hand through the monster's back and ripped out his heart.

The thrashauler took one last agonizing gasp, and a low gurgle bubbled out of him and he turned to dust.

Grayson turned around to look at Kinley. She was staring back at him, eyes wide. She changed back to human form quickly, something that usually helped heal her but this time felt like a tremendous effort.

She focused on the black heart in his hand, wrapped by his fingers, the tips of which were changed into sharp claws.

"I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I."

They stared at each other, adrenaline coursing through them.

"I think one of them got away," Kinley said.

Grayson threw the heart on the ground. He picked up a long stick and sharpened it to a vicious point with his claw. When he was ready, he took a deep breath, and with all his remaining strength, plunged the spear hard through the heart, pinning the heart to the ground.

The heart started to smolder, then release a vile black smoke, and after a few seconds, poofed out of existence, leaving only its evil stench behind.

Grayson swayed a little, more determined than ever to stay on his feet. Then he passed out, hitting the ground with a loud thump.

Chapter 2

Grayson's eyelids flickered open, and closed, and then open again. He stared up at the stars and symbols on the ceiling. He was in Trimmner's healing hut. He closed his eyes again. He felt like he had the world's biggest hangover. His head throbbed. Everything ached.

Grayson wiggled his toes; felt for ability to move his legs, his arms. Apparently everything worked. He looked around. Kinley was sitting on the couch. Her legs were propped up on a small coffee table. She had a book resting on her chest.

Grayson looked down at his chest and stomach. Bandages. Lots of them. He gingerly pulled up the edge of one. Just healthy pink scar lines.

Wow. That looks good. I must have slept for hours.

He ripped the bandage off and inhaled loudly.

"Grayson. You awake?"

"Yes. How are you? Are you okay?" He anxiously looked her up and down.

"I'm fine now."

"How did I get here?"

"I carried you."

Grayson took that in. Injured, poisoned, bleeding, she carried her big brother almost three miles back to the pack. He smiled. She was fierce.

"Thank you."

"Enh. You saved my life, now we're even."

"How long was I out?"

"Three and a half days."

"What?" He jerked up in surprise and winced as pain lanced through his body. He lay back down.

They were silent for a minute.

"Have there been any more sightings?"

Kinley shook her head.

Trimmner came in, wearing a white doctor's coat over a blue-grey pant suit.

"How's my patient?"

"I'll live."

"I bet."

"He's too stubborn to die," Kinley said.

"Hmph. Now, now, children," Trimmner said and then smiled. "Let me check you out."

Trimmner's graceful hands looked under all the bandages. The one that was wrapped all around his mid torso she simply cut, rather than trying to get him to sit up and unwrap it.

Trimmner clicked her tongue.

Grayson looked down at himself. He hadn't realized that he sustained injuries requiring surgery, but seeing the suture marks, he obviously he had.

Trimmner briefed him on his injuries, what she had done, and his progress.

"When can I get out of here?"

"Don't like me?"

Grayson laughed, and winced when it hurt. Trimmner knew he loved her like a sister. He just smiled at her and didn't bother to answer.

"You can probably leave here in a day or two, but you'll have to take it easy, really easy, for two or three months. Minimum."

Grayson groaned.

Trimmner patted the top of his shoulder lightly. "It's all right, tough guy. No fighting. No running or jumping. No changing. Nothing too strenuous. But that doesn't mean that you can't still run the council or keep doing good around here. We're just all glad that you pulled through."

Grayson wanted to bang his head against the mattress. He probably would have if he didn't think it would send shooting firecrackers into his headache.

"Rest," Trimmner said. "Lots and lots of rest. Doctor's orders."

Trimmner left.

Grayson fell into a light sleep, waking only minutes later replaying the gruesome fight in his mind.

"You want any water?" Kinley asked.

"Yes."

She helped him sit up. She held the cup while he drank. Then he lay back down again.

"I'm exhausted, and I haven't even done anything yet."

"Grayson, I think you should go up to the coyote/wolf preserve and stay there for a while."

Grayson furrowed his eyebrows.

"Listen, you could use a place that is relaxing to be in to recover. Old Artiction just retired and he hasn't found anyone to gather the data from the camera stations. You won't have to worry about mediating pack politics. You're supposed to rest."

"I can't leave the pack with thrashaulers in the area."

"You know they usually only travel in groups of two or three. That last one is probably running as far away as he can get. There've been no other sightings in the area. They usually never come this far west or north. Besides, even if they did, we've got Beckett."

Beckett was the packs enforcer and the strongest werewolf Grayson had ever seen. If Beckett wanted to take the Alpha role away from Grayson there'd be nothing he could do about it. Luckily Beckett wasn't interested in leading. But if Grayson went away, who would take his place?

He looked at his sister. Of course. She was next in line for the title.

"You want to be Alpha?"

"Well, yeah. But that's not the reason I'm suggesting you go. I think it will be good for you. Think about it. It's incredibly beautiful up there. We haven't been up to the cabin since we were teenagers."

Grayson thought about. It made sense, good sense, but he really didn't want to leave if the pack might be in danger.

Kinley correctly interpreted his facial expression. "We'll be fine. You've made us strong. If we can't live a little while without you, you didn't do as good a job as you think you have, and I know you have. Really, we'll be fine. If you rest and recuperate you'll be a better Alpha than ever."

Grayson just stared at her.

"If you don't go, I'll just nag you every few minutes until you do."

He rolled his lips together and didn't say anything.

"Hey, you're supposed to rest, doctor's orders. How much quiet time do you think you're going to get here?"

As if on cue Beckett came in to visit. Then another person. Then another and another and another. Young and old, one after another, almost every pack member came to say hello.

When it was late, and it seemed like the last of his visitors had petered out, Grayson was more exhausted than ever before.

"See?" Kinley said. "You're not going to get any peace here. It will be good for you. Go."

"I'll think about it," Grayson said.

Chapter 3

Jack and Sarah Williams laughed like kids as they toasted their marshmallows over the fire. Then they told ghost stories, one after another, enjoying it, even though they had heard them all before.

"We should go camping more often," Sarah said.

"Yeah."

"You've been so busy the semester with all your wildlife courses."

He grinned.

"You've been so busy all semester with Colin."

She tried to keep a straight face but it was hard not to smile back.

"And remember, as your twin, I feel whatever you feel. So I can say with utmost assurance that Colin knows what he's doing."

Sarah threw a cold, charred marshmallow at him.

"Gross," she said.

They stayed up way too late when they knew that they had to hike back to the wolf pack early in the morning.

The hike back took two hours and the twins tried to see who could regale the other with the funniest incidents from college stories. Jack won, hands down. They were about to round the last bend in the path when they both smelled something. An unbelievable stench coming directly from their village.

Moving in complete sync they began to run.

"Oh my God," Sarah said.

Again, in a perfect synchronization, they stopped short. Jack put his hand over his mouth. Sarah stood in shock. After a moment she whimpered.

"This can't be. Can't be."

Slowly they moved forward. Their entire village had been burned to ash.

They reached their own house. Their father, mother, and six-year old sister were charred skeletons with burnt flesh hanging in patches from various places. Flies were buzzing around their lifeless bodies. Sarah dropped to her knees and cried out.

"Who could possibly do this?" Sarah asked.

Jack bent down by his father, who still had a large sword tightly gripped in his hand. There was a piece of ragged clothes and dark blood on the edge of the weapon. Jack rolled his father up a little bit and found the tip of a grey finger and the outline of a head in black dust.

"Thrashaulers," Jack said.

"Here? They never come west of the Rockies."

"Yeah. And they usually travel in pairs, right? There's no way that just two of them could do all this damage. I mean, red wolves are no lightweights and the Red Wolf Lupus pack has lots of strong fighters."

Sarah looked around, still stunned. "The really are the evil undead," she whispered. "I can't imagine how many of them it would take to do this much damage."

"And why didn't they eat the bodies? I thought they survived by putting a spore into were-animals and then eating them."

Sarah broke into tears. "Maybe they did. Maybe they ate Amy, or Gretchen, or Connie." The idea of the most awful fate she could imagine befalling her best friends made her sob harder.

Jack got up and hugged her tight.

"We should have been here, Jack. We should have been there."

Sarah's crying caused her body to jerk and hiccup.