Terr5tory, p.1
Terr5tory, page 1
TERR5TORY
By
Susan A. Bliler
Copyright © 2015 by Susan A. Bliler
Smashwords Edition
www.susanbliler.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Cover fonts, spine, and back cover done by:
Cindy Hubbard
As always thanks to my Beta, Cindy.
I couldn’t do this without you.
Thanks for believing in me when no one else did.
;o) ting
Image courtesy of Shutterstock
Editing done by:
Leiah Cooper with
So I Read This Book Today…
http://soireadthisbooktoday.com/
Leiah: I love you, lady, and you are mad skilled at your craft!
Thanks for all you do and for always being so quick!
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidences are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Susan A. Bliler.
DEDICATION
I asked my sister if I could write a guest dedication in her next book.
Imagine my surprise when I read Terr5tory and realized that it was about her.
How fitting. ~Cindy
To Susan A. Bliler:
Runnin’ with the pack every wolf has a role.
Alphina was your calling, it shines in your soul.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Especially when rabid wolves abound.
We acknowledge your struggle and yet we run free.
With your great power comes great responsibility.
No one is more suited to lead, at this we all attest.
One day we may afford you some much needed rest.
Until that day comes just know you are admired.
And we will follow you loyally until the next Alpha is sired.
We will stand while you sit, we ferociously keep your back.
We all bend a knee to the Alpha of our pack.
Prologue
Delano Bowden had a sinking feeling as he approached what he scented as pack territory in the wilds of North Carolina’s Cherokee National Forest, just outside Asheville. It was pack territory, but not his.
For the past seven years, Delano lived in the forests of British Columbia with Barron Kane, Gray Kincaid, and Wren Prime. Alphas all, and each battle born, the men were unwilling to claim their rightful positions. In opposition to expectation, they’d formed a previously-unheard-of pack of all Alphas and lived in mostly animal form, feral in the wild. They’d hunted and battled, and were honed into the fiercest of fighting machines, the deadliest of Alphas. When the time finally came to disband and return to civilization, Delano and Barron were a little more reluctant than Wren, whose brothers had held down his pack, and Gray who had his family’s wealth to start him off right.
No, Delano had followed Barron to Colorado where Barron’s brother, Evander, had pointed him in the direction of a few opportunities where he might find a fresh start, locations where he wouldn’t have too much of a battle to claim the position of Alpha. Not that Delano was opposed to challenge. Quite the contrary, he was battle born, he thrived on the one sport where all true Alpha’s were forged. Yet, here he was. He’d recently left Minnesota after discovering his pack mate, Barron Kane, had beaten him to that particular assignment. Assignment! He snorted.
Now, he’d traveled across the country following Evander Kane’s second suggestion, that there may be a place for a pack-less Alpha here in the Cherokee National Forest. Evander promised Delano would find a pack of eleven, in urgent need of a strong leader.
It was full-on summer, and he’d made the entire journey in wolf form. It’d been difficult. With forest land decreasing and trigger-happy fools increasing, it’d made for one hell of a trip.
Crossing into what he knew was pack land, he stilled to flare his nostrils and scent the air. Wolves. Shape shifters. His kind.
He relaxed into a full shift, his rust-colored wolf slowly receding until he rose on human legs as a last ripple washed over him, generating clothing in its wake. The gift was a rare one, more typical of wolves of the northwest. For some reason, their eastern and southern brethren had yet to master the art of regenerating clothing with a shift. Some claimed it was because the blood was diluted the further one got from the source, Glacier National Park in Montana. Others claimed the shifters simply lacked the power. While he believed certain shifter attributes were connected to a shifter’s proximity to the source, he didn’t believe the ability to generate clothing with a shift was one of them. No, he believed eastern shifters merely lacked the knowledge. He’d find out soon enough.
Booted feet stepped over the invisible boundary he could scent was the pack line. Marked by numerous wolves, there was no shifter alive who would miss the clearly indicated border.
Slowly, he entered the foreign territory, knowing that at any second he would be confronted by the pack who claimed it. After leaving Minnesota, he’d contacted Evander, who had verified that the Hickory pack was still in need and had promised to send word that Delano was on his way.
Fifteen feet in, Delano tensed and scanned his surroundings. Nothing. He kept walking. At a hundred yards, his expectation of ambush gave way to ire. No one was coming. Perhaps Evander forgot to send word? Doubtful, but it could be the only explanation.
Was this really how the territory was run? And if so, why in the hell had Evander thought he’d want anything to do with this mess? Evander’s words came floating back to him. ‘The Hickory pack urgently needs an Alpha!’ He snorted in disgust. A decent Alpha at least.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t asked too many questions about the Hickory pack because his intent had been to travel to the much closer Minnesota and see what he’d find there. Alas, Barron had beaten him to that location, and now he was sunk.
Shaking his head and wondering what in the hell he’d gotten himself into, Delano knew one thing for certain. If he was taking over this pack, then serious fucking changes were definitely in order!
Chapter 1
Lifting her head, Eleanor let her eyes fall closed as she let the warm rays of summer sun soak into her fur and warm her soul. Her nostrils flared and she scented the land. Her pack’s land. Home.
Recently, their Alpha claimed a mate and, in a rare move that none of them saw coming, he’d left to become part of her pack rather than absorb her into his own. It was odd, but Keaton had been an odd Alpha. His authority had always been tenuous at best. He’d been bred into the position, which in itself started him out on questionable footing.
A shifter became Alpha in one of two ways. You were either bred to the position, or battle born. Those, like Keaton, bred into the position, simply had the title and position handed down by being heir to the previous Alpha. First born sons or daughters who were given the title without ever having proven themselves. Bred Alphas garnered little respect and were often challenged for their positions, whereas battle born were different beasts entirely. In shifters, Alpha traits were as random as being born with gray eyes. Bred Alphas carried some of these traits, but usually only from having learned from their Alpha fathers or mothers. Battle born were bred in the blood. Alphas to the bone, unable to exist under the governance of another. Battle born earned their name. They fought and fought often, advancing their position with blood and the belief that they are born to lead.
All packs hoped for a battle born Alpha, but they’d settle for any Alpha because being an Alpha-less pack was a very precarious position to be in. Any dominant wolf could step up and challenge for the title and, with no true leader, Eleanor knew that any day her pack could be absorbed into a much larger pack or claimed by the first male willing to step in and take over.
Something on the wind pulled at her. Drawing in great snouts-full of air, she let it fill her lungs, then dropped her mouth open so the scent could coat her tongue. There it was again. What is it? She couldn’t place it, but the taste, the feelings it evoked, reminded her of when she was an adolescent. Suddenly, giddy hope washed over her, and she wondered if the scent was the source. Taking a step forward she lifted her muzzle and sniffed again, trying desperately to place it. Outsider? Could it be the northwest ambassador? She shook the thought off. No, this scented of home.
Shaking her head, Eleanor knew she needed to get back on task. Whatever the scent was, it was making her restless and her wolf…excited. It felt like something was coming. It felt like change was in the air. Before his departure, Keaton had informed the pack that he’d sent word to a friend, who was supposedly the hand-picked Alpha of the newly formed Colorado pack, Evander Kane.
Recently, there’d been a battle between the great northwest packs. Something about a Colorado pack going against shifter law and changing humans against their will. Now, it was a requirement that any change in pack hierarchy was reported to the Blackbird pack in Montana, the ruling body of shifters. This meant that if Keaton’s friend, Evander, was sending someone, then it was most likely a “good” someone. The Northwest Territory pack was notorious for their intolerance of any Alpha who abused his or her power.
Evander Kane had indeed contacted her a few weeks back and told her he’d be sending someone to help with the transition. He hadn’t clarified, but she assumed he meant the trans
ition of authority over the pack from Keaton to her. A representative from the great northwest pack would aide her greatly in acquiring the lead. Female Alpha’s were rare, and with Bose throwing his weight around, things could get ugly fast. Aide was coming, but this scent couldn’t be her hero. It smelled too familiar, too…her own.
Sighing, Eleanor pulled herself from her reverie and forced herself to stop fantasizing about things she had no real knowledge of. Eyes focused, she gave one last smile to the sun then turned to finish her perimeter run. If an Ambassador was coming sometime soon, she wanted to make sure everything was in order for his or her arrival. It wasn’t an easy task considering her pack hated chores and were always doing their assigned duties half-ass. It’s why she was out on the perimeter run now. Initially, while he’d still been with them, Keaton had assigned her to set up a schedule of duties for the pack. It’s not how things were supposed to work. The Alpha was supposed to set duties, and his pack was supposed to follow his commands. Instead, members of the pack only paid Keaton partial respect for giving them a place to live and a territory to call their own. Truthfully, Bose, Miston, Warren, Anders, or hell even the youngest, Parker, could probably have challenged Keaton and won, but truth was the males were content with the way things were. Lazy was the word that best described her pack. Hell, even the females thought that all there was to life was sitting around waiting for their mates to come claim them.
Eleanor sighed as she slowly made her way around the pack’s perimeter. She wasn’t like the rest of the females. Still young, they all had hopes of being claimed, but not Eleanor. She’d already been mated, and her mate had died. Shot by hunters, Ulsh had left her too soon and it had been a devastating blow, but not life-ending for Eleanor. No, she had mated Ulsh out of their mutual respect and admiration for one another, but he hadn’t been her true mate. Still, she missed him dearly and there wasn’t a day that she didn’t wish he was still with her.
Older now, Eleanor knew that she’d most likely die alone, with this pack and in this territory. While the other females still held hope of mating outside of the pack and one day leaving, Eleanor knew this was it for her. It’s why she felt compelled to take such good care of the people in the pack and the land that comprised their territory. Keaton had seen her worth, but knew he couldn’t make her Beta without subjecting her to challenge from Bose, so he’d made her pack ambassador. She’d never heard of the position before. Honestly, none of them had, but Keaton assured them that pack ambassadors were extremely common in the west. She hadn’t truly believed it until he’d vowed to find her a Blackbird assigned ambassador to help with her transition. Secretly, she hoped the ambassador coming wasn’t female. She didn’t put it past Bose to defy a female with authority, even one sent by the governing Blackbird pack.
Eleanor set off at a hard run. She needed to work off some of the excitement and agitation weighing on her. Plus, the memory of Ulsh always faded when she pushed her wolf for some good exercise. She’d finish her perimeter run and then be back at the compound in time to start dinner for the pack.
Chapter 2
“I only count ten. Who’s missing?” Delano eyed the circle that stood outside the main house in the large front yard that was surprisingly well manicured for the compound’s location in the deep woods. Just as he’d suspected, his first test had begun. “Didn’t I command all wolves present?” he snarled. This pack is a fucking joke! Annoyance bunched his jaw and he could barely contain his rage. After traversing the territory unchecked, he’d eventually made his way to the compound where he’d walked unnoticed to the front door of the main house, and then into the heart of the home before ever being confronted by a single shifter. It wasn’t until he’d moved into the home’s kitchen that he’d finally found a young boy who’d run off in terror only to return short minutes later with a handful of angry males. Silly fucks! Their anger was nothing compared to his. Who let a stranger walk unchecked through their territory? Territory, hell! They’d let him waltz into the heart of their home and right up to an unprotected child. The males quickly stood down when he’d announced his origins and reason for arrival, but when he’d ordered them outside, they’d followed like a herd of turtles with A.D.D. Twice…TWICE he’d had to sneer and growl toward the house to get the pack of slowly shuffling wolves to move their asses and form a sloppy line in the front yard.
He snarled his displeasure for the umpteenth time and jabbed his finger toward the largest male, who clearly thought he was some hotshot but denied being interim-Alpha. “You!” He snapped his fingers. “Forgot your name.”
The male opened his mouth to offer his name, but Delano cut him off. “You said there are eleven wolves living here. I count ten.” His eyes narrowed.
Several pairs of eyes shot around the circle. Most were indifferent; some actually appeared bored. Someone whispered a name and then murmurs began. Suddenly, all looks turned to ones of genuine concern. Good! They should know that he’d be challenging the wolf that defied his order.
One of the females stepped forward and actually appeared repentant. “Alpha, we…”
“Oh, now I’m Alpha?” He’d introduced himself appropriately when the full pack had finally congregated, but no one had addressed him as such. The show of respect and scent of worry coming from the pack now had his curiosity piqued. Why were these indifferent youngsters suddenly so acquiescent? Who in the hell was this wolf that was missing that he’d garner such worry from his pack? Were they afraid for the missing wolf? Or were they actually concerned for Delano’s safety? He snorted derisively. He was Alpha by action, not appointment. He had no problems fighting to earn his place among this pack.
He picked up the sound of leaves crunching seconds before the pack’s eyes jerked behind him. Perfect! He’d get to mete out some punishment and show this unruly crew just who was boss by making an example of the tardy wolf who, for some reason, seemed to evoke protective instincts in the pack.
He spun and lunged simultaneously just as several members of the pack shouted in unison, “NOOOOOO!”
His hand was clamped around the throat of the tardy shifter. He spun quickly so the individual was facing the pack, the back of the laggard’s head pressed hard into his chest.
Delano let his Alpha command surge fully to the fore. With his lips peeled back and incisors elongated, a vicious snarl rumbled from deep within his chest as he made a show of it for the pack. It took him one inhalation to realize it wasn’t a male wolf challenging for dominance at all. His hand was clutched in a death grip around the slender column of a slim, satiny throat. He was holding a female. To her credit, the shifter in his grasp didn’t struggle or attempt to fight back.
“Let her go! It’s Eleanor,” someone protested.
That got Delano’s hackles up. The word Eleanor was spoken, not as if it were a name, but as if it were a revered position in the pack.
The woman, Eleanor, who he couldn’t see because of the way he had her clamped to his front facing the pack, lifted a hand and closed it around his wrist. For a moment, he thought she’d fight. Instead, she simply rubbed his wrist with her thumb. To his shock, the gesture soothed his wolf, and his hold loosened until she was able to pull her neck free from his grip.
Once free, her shoulders instantly slumped and her free hand went to her throat as she coughed quietly.
Face frozen in a snarl, Delano’s eyes shifted from the pack to the female as she slowly turned to face him. He let his wolf’s eyes drift up until they locked on the softest brown eyes he’d ever seen. They weren’t light brown; they weren’t even hazel. No, they were like crystalized cinnamon with flecks of green, and when his eyes collided with the she-wolf’s, his gut twisted in an agonized punch of searing pain that had him sucking in a harsh breath and crashing to his knees.
