Page 21 of Running with the Alpha’s Son (The Alpha’s Son #3)

W E’ VE GOT COMPANY

This is bad. Standing on the lakeshore in a crescent shape are twenty, thirty…a whole bunch of wolves, leering, snapping their jaws, growling at Jasper and me.

Where did they come from? They couldn’t have been far from us last night. How come I couldn’t sense them? How come I couldn’t sense any wolves whatsoever? And what do they want?

Judging from their dripping jowls, their snarling, curled-back lips, their raised noses, their narrowed, accusatory stares, their sharp teeth glinting in the light, they aren’t happy to see us.

Jasper’s wolf is by my side, his breaths coming out ragged and thick. His jaws are clenched together, his rear legs tense like coiled springs, ready to pounce. He paws at the dirt with a front foot, growling at the wolf crowd who must have roused him from his sleep.

Last night was stupidly amazing. Jasper and I…well…we really connected. The last thing I thought I’d wake up to was this! It’s a pretty sharp left turn.

I place a steadying hand on Jasper’s side. His black fur is warm and soft, his chest expands into my palm.

“Hey,” I say to the crowd of wolves. One snaps in my direction and a few edge forward in response. “Let’s not do anything too crazy.” I lift a hand like they’re the cops and I’m trying to show them I’m unarmed. “We’re wolves too. And we don’t mean any harm—”

“Max?” a familiar voice cuts me off. The snarling wolves glance between each other as a human face appears amongst their ranks, rising in the second row.

“Omar?”

His skin is more tanned than the last time I saw him, and his hair is a ruffled mess, probably because he, like the rest of our uninvited guests, was in his wolf form. He’s also wearing a whole lot less clothes than when we said goodbye in the snowy valley near the Rocky Pack. But I’d recognize his bushy eyebrows and pouty grin anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, shaking his head in a bewildered way.

“Camping?”

Jasper glances back at me, unwilling to let his guard drop just yet, and I don’t blame him. Omar’s companions are still growling back at him, at us.

“Tell your attack dog to back down,” Omar says. “Then we can talk.”

Jasper snaps his jaws in Omar’s direction.

“Ooh, feisty,” he says.

But I’m actually with Jasper on this one. “Why don’t you tell your…friends to back off first?”

“No can do. You’re on our land.”

“But…I didn’t think there were any packs around here for miles.”

“We might not be a pack. But you’re still on our land.”

Not a pack? Oh! I finally figure out why there isn’t a distinctive unifying scent about this group. They’re rogues. No wonder Jasper is especially snappy.

“We didn’t mean to intrude,” I say. “And we don’t mean any harm.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m afraid.” Omar shrugs half-apologetically. “Our charter is clear.”

“Charter?”

“Any foreign wolves found encamping on our land must be taken to the central committee.”

“The central…what are you talking about? We aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Omar doesn’t sound like he’s particularly sorry. In fact, I think he’s sort of enjoying this. “Orders are orders. We’ve got to take you in. Grab your stuff, you’re coming with us.”

“Where?” I ask, more than incredulous.

“Where else?” Omar cocks an eyebrow. “Rogue Sanctuary.”

“You found it then?” I ask as we’re marched through the desert.

Jasper, Omar, and I are three humans in a herd of wolves, flanked on either side by ten or more rogues. They were nice enough to let Jasper and me get dressed appropriately for hiking, and Jasper reluctantly offered Omar a set of his gym shorts, although I notice they’re the pair he wore yesterday and are probably quite sweaty still.

“I did,” Omar says, chin held proudly and a wistful look of contentment in his eyes.

“You’ve come a long way. Did you travel here by yourself?” When I met Omar he was living with the rogue healer Agatha at the base of a very snowy mountain in Colorado. We’re far from Colorado.

“For the most part,” he says. “I met up with some other traveler wolves near Seattle and we headed south together for a bit. Left them back in San Francisco.”

“You weren’t tempted to stay with them?”

“No way, cuz. I had a feeling if I kept heading where it was warmer, more isolated, I’d find the Rogue Sanctuary and, hey, that’s just what I did.”

Jasper grunts beside me. He was reluctant to go with the rogues and was especially unhappy to hand over the satellite phone before we were escorted from our campsite. I totally get it. Apart from Omar, the rest of the rogues seem a lot less friendly. They snap or growl if we veer out of their tight formation. It’s interesting seeing these rogues working together so well. Not at all something we were taught they could do.

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” Omar says, his cheeks a little flushed—although that might just be the desert heat—and an approving smirk on his face.

Jasper shoots him a sharp look.

“Yeah, I was a mess.” I rub at the sweat dripping down the back of my neck. “But I’ve gotten a lot better at blocking out the noise.”

Omar eyes me curiously. “Is that so?”

“I can still feel it but most of the time it’s like a haze pressing in on me, not painful at all.”

“You just blocked it all out then,” he says, more a statement than a question.

“Uh-huh.” I glance around at the wolves, their shoulders rolling as they walk, the way they seem to communicate with a subtle lift of the head, a glance. “Actually, it’s weird. I should have felt your presence, but I didn’t. How did you manage to sneak up on us?”

“We have to be careful,” Omar says casually, glancing at his rogue comrades, “even out here. The rogues who first established the Sanc—that’s what we call Rogue Sanctuary—wanted to find a place so remote they wouldn’t be bothered by pack wolves. But even in the middle of this desert they still fear trespassers and wannabe colonizers.” He lifts his head back in Jasper’s direction; Jasper clenches his jaw and stares straight ahead. “So they learned to quiet their presence, to hide themselves. Every wolf who joins the Sanc has to learn to do this or risk revealing the location to every alpha in America.”

“Whoa.” I survey our escort once more. “Everyone here has that much control over their wolf energy?”

“Hell yeah,” he says, kicking a pebble along the ground playfully. “We can teach you. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to block everyone out, y’know.”

I smile and shrug. “That would be kind of cool. But aren’t we sort of…your prisoners?”

Omar stops walking to give me a dirty look like I insulted his mother.

“Prisoners? Who said anything about prisoners? It’s not like that—I mean, we’re a peaceful bunch, the council just wants to talk with you to see whether you mean us any harm.”

“If we mean you any harm?” Jasper says, his voice rough, indignant. He’s stopped walking as well, the rogue wolves meander around us. “If we’re not prisoners then let us go.”

“No can do, my man,” Omar says, clapping his hands together and continuing walking once again. “Council’s orders.”

“Max,” Jasper whispers roughly in my ear. “This is bad. If I cause a distraction, you can shift and make a run for it. Run back to the house and let the guards know what’s happened.”

“Don’t be silly,” I say. “I’m not leaving you. Besides, I don’t think we’re in danger, just because they’re rogues.”

“They’ve kidnapped us and are taking us only the moon gods know where. I don’t see how this ends well.”

“Let’s just talk to them, then I’m sure they’ll let us go.”

Jasper doesn’t look convinced.

“What?”

“Why do you think no one has found this place before? You think they just let their prisoners go?”

“If they wanted to hurt us wouldn’t they have ripped out our jugulars while we were sleeping? They’re rogues, not murderers. They’re probably just making sure they’re safe from us.”

Jasper clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

“You boys coming?” Omar calls over his shoulder, and a large chocolate-colored wolf knocks into me with her shoulder, nudging me forward.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d make it back anyway,” I say as Jasper and I begin trekking along with the wolves again. “We know Omar,” I venture a moment later, “that has to count for something.”

“Barely.”

“Still, try reading his energy. He doesn’t want to hurt us. Let’s just go with them and explain that we were camping out for a night and we don’t want to intrude, then I’m sure they’ll let us go.”

I can hear myself and even I’m surprised at the slight hint of excitement in my voice. Here we are being potentially kidnapped but I’m more intrigued than frightened. These wolves have some wild control over their energy, and if they’re willing to show me how they do it, maybe I could learn a little more about my blood-wolf abilities, maybe I could stop living in fear of migraines, and maybe Jasper and I could finally mind-link.

“Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt,” I say, low enough not to be heard by the rogues. “Don’t you want to see what a real rogue settlement looks like?”

“Not especially.”

“Come on, give them a shot.”

Jasper stares into my eyes as if trying to ascertain something—maybe whether I’ve lost my mind completely, or maybe some other unspoken concern I can’t quite read. But finally he relents, shaking his head. “Fine. But the second things get out of hand I want you to promise you’ll run.”

“I promise.” I take his hand in an attempt to be comforting. “And, hey, seeing as I didn’t get to say it yet, last night was…pretty freaking great.”

He squeezes my hand back, staring straight ahead. “Agreed.”

We walk for a few hours before Rogue Sanctuary comes into view. I don’t know what I was expecting but it sure wasn’t this.

The whole thing has the look of a music festival—like Burning Man, only with less drugged-out influencers and more of a hippie vibe. Tents ranging in size from circus big top to glamping yurt have been erected as far as I can see, with flags and banners between them waving in the breeze. For the most part they blend in with the beigy, camel-toned environs, although some of them have been painted in mismatching, colorful patterns.

“It’s the size of a city,” I say from where I’ve stopped to take it in.

The sun is overhead and heat waves rise from the hot sand, making the sky extra pale and hazy, creating a miragelike effect. Rock formations sit to one side of the expansive encampment, and plant life springs up between the tents lining the paths—or really they’re more like roads—linking everything together. Gardens with colorful desert flowers have been planted at the base of the tents. Even from a distance it’s easy to tell how alive the sanctuary is: the silhouettes of kids running between tents flit like dragonflies, wolves go about their days, some in human form and others in their wolf form, smoke rises in a number of spots, and a distinctly savory and delicious smell is drifting toward us.

“Is that…barbecue?” I say, drooling.

“It’s pretty amazing isn’t it,” Omar says, turning back to join Jasper and me. “Bet you didn’t think it would be this big.”

“It’s so cool,” I say, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“Oh yeah,” Omar says, then turns to Jasper, who is also staring at Rogue Sanctuary, although with less awe and more confusion. “What about you? What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” Jasper says, intentionally patronizingly.

The rest of the wolves have already gone on ahead.

“Come on, the council will be waiting.”

We make our way to the edge of the sanctuary and all I can think is how this is nothing like the ramshackle, abandoned warehouses of Rogue City in Pittsburgh. As we wander between tents and I’m overwhelmed by all the different scents: food, floral and sweet, wafting from yurts and fenced-off patio-type areas, nearly eclipsed by a cacophony of wolves—the scents of wolves from all across the country clashing, mingling, in this mind-tingling but thrilling way. I’ve only just been able to fully comprehend the scent of a wolf from somewhere in the southeast, Florida maybe, before another scent—is that Texas? Milwaukee?—emerges to overtake it.

I glance at Jasper to see what he thinks, and from his scrunched-up face and turned-up nose, I don’t think he’s having the same olfactory response as me. For someone so attuned to the scent of his own pack, maybe all these conflicting scents are hard to stomach.

Our escort leads us deeper yet as we catch stares from all around. Wolves lie in the shade cast by the tents that I assume are their homes, careless and unbothered about remaining in their animal form, their dark eyes watching us as they yawn or kick out a back leg.

“I’ve never seen so many wolves just existing like this,” I whisper to Jasper. “It’s like they aren’t worried one bit about humans. Can you imagine?”

“It’s wild,” Jasper says, only he sounds like he means it in a literal sense, like these are wild animals and not the civilized company he’s used to.

Finally, we reach a large tent at a spot where six or seven paths converge. Two flags stand proudly on either side of a shaded doorway, painted in bright colors with a mix of patterns and symbols clashing all over them, flapping ever so slightly.

Omar stands at the door with a host of the wolves who brought us here. “This is the tent of the rogue council. They oversee the sanctity and protection of our city.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a democratic society,” Jasper says snidely.

“We are. All rogues are eligible and the council members are elected by vote every leap year.”

“How big is the council?” I ask.

“There are five members, each one a representative of one of the five moon gods.”

A rotund wolf emerges slowly from the shadowy entrance of the tent. From here it looks like he’s missing an eye, but maybe he still has one eye closed from the nap he apparently just woke up from. Omar speaks to this wolf in a voice low enough that I can’t make out what’s being said and when he’s done he bounces upright, smiling. “They’d like to speak with you both.”

He gestures for us to follow and slips through the doorway.

In the shade of the tent the air is instantly cooler. We’re led through a narrow canvas-lined passage that finally opens out onto a large circular room. A small fire burns in a pit in the center of the room, the smoke escaping through a hole in the tent’s roof. The dirt floor is covered in mismatching rugs, rolled out in all different directions, and around the perimeter of the room large cushions are laid out for larger gatherings, or kumbaya circles I guess. Opposite us are five shadowy figures—all are seated on stools except one, who has shown up in their wolf form and is resting on a cushion one spot to the right of center.

“Come forward,” the central figure says. Her long, gray hair is tied back in two plaits, her face is weathered, with deep wrinkles cut into her dark-brown skin, and her eyes are round and thoughtful.

Omar gestures for us to approach the fire, and together Jasper and I edge forward hesitantly.

“My name is Malamar. You may call me Mal. I am the representative of Nannar, the oldest of the moon gods. Welcome to our sanctuary. This is Buck.” She gestures to the bulky white man sitting to her left. He looks to be in his forties, with cropped hair, a heavily muscled chest, and arms the size of logs sticking out of his sleeveless shirt. He salutes us with two fingers and a clenched jaw. “Buck sits as representative of Mani.”

I hazard an awkward wave but Buck doesn’t look like the type to return the gesture, or smile even.

“I believe you’ve met Tomas,” Mal continues, looking to the man sitting farthest from her on the left.

Their faces are lit only by the flickering firelight and I hadn’t realized until now that I do, in fact, recognize one of them. Tomas is the guy who sold Jasper all the crystals and things in town, with the ponytail, thin limbs, and round shoulders.

“A pleasure to see you both once more,” Tomas says, nodding gently. A low growl rolls in Jasper’s throat. This guy must have been the one to alert the rogues to our presence, and Jasper isn’t happy about being tricked. “I sit as the representative of Igaluk. I trust your connection ceremony went as planned.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s serious or making fun of us, like he knew all those crystals and incense wouldn’t help. Jasper clenches and unclenches a fist.

“This is Akari,” Mal continues, gesturing to the young woman on her far right. Her posture is ridiculous, her hair straight and black as Jasper’s—in fact she bears a striking resemblance to Jasper’s mother. “Akari is Tsukuyomi’s representative.”

Akari bows her head slightly by way of greeting.

“And finally, on my right is Kairos.” Mal gestures toward the wolf sitting between her and Akari. Now that we’re closer I can make out the graying fur around his muzzle. Kairos must be getting on. “Kairos represents Selene.”

“How can he represent anything if he can’t speak?” Jasper mutters.

Mal pauses at the interruption but doesn’t look upset. She sits back with a patient smile.

“Kairos chose long ago to remain in the form in which he feels the most connected to wolfkind. He has remained in his wolf form for the last forty-odd years. We do not begrudge him this choice—in fact, we aren’t even sure if he is still able to shift back into his human state. He speaks through me.”

I quirk my head sideways. What does she mean?

Mal must catch our confused expressions.

“Kairos and I are mates, we communicate via mind-link. Thus I am able to speak for him.”

They can mind-link! Whoa!

Kairos lifts his head to sniff the breeze, perhaps scenting us out, or perhaps using his wolf senses to ascertain whether we’re worth his time. Promptly he flops back onto his cushion, where he remains docile for the rest of the meeting. Maybe we aren’t worthy?

“You are very welcome here in Rogue Sanctuary,” Mal says, before lowering her eyes and her voice. “Now please tell me how the son of an alpha came to be on rogue territory and what your intentions are while you’re here.”

I try to swallow so that I can introduce myself but before I’ve had the chance Jasper takes a small step forward and speaks in his most alpha-sounding tone.

“I am Jasper Apollo, son of Alpha Jericho Apollo of the Elite Pack.”

Mal watches with an amused grin, while Tomas lifts an unimpressed brow, Buck leans forward onto an elbow, and Akira’s face doesn’t move.

“My family owns land a few miles west of here. We were simply camping on that land when your soldiers apprehended us unlawfully. I must demand that we are released at once and allowed to return peacefully to my family’s home.”

In such a large space you’d almost expect the sound to echo, but instead Jasper’s words leave his mouth and seem to die instantly, fizzing to nothing. The council waits a beat, a growl coming from Buck’s direction, then Mal smiles.

“Are you finished, Child Alpha?”

Buck laughs a little at this epithet and Tomas grins wryly, but Jasper is only angered further—I can practically hear his teeth grinding.

“First of all,” Mal continues, “the laws which govern you and your pack hold no bearing here. We have neither acted unlawfully or outside the realms of our jurisdiction. Secondly, the land which you claim to own sits squarely within the boundaries of the territory of the sanctuary. What freedoms your family have enjoyed upon our land were gifted by this council many years ago.”

“Lies,” Jasper says. “My father would never do business with rogues.”

Buck slams a fist on his knee. “How dare you?” he roars, poised to stand and tackle Jasper to the ground.

“There’s no need for violence,” Mal says, holding a hand in Buck’s path. He settles uncomfortably back in his chair and she returns her attention to Jasper. “The use of our land wasn’t gifted to your father.”

Jasper’s eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure out exactly what Mal is saying.

“The house, the land…was given to your mother.”

“What…what are you saying?” Jasper chokes out.

Mal places her hands gently in her lap. “What I’m saying, Child Alpha, is that your mother was no stranger to us here at Rogue Sanctuary. In fact she played a vital role in creating the safe and thriving community we have today.”

Jasper is flummoxed, a bead of sweat is rolling down his temple.

“You…you knew my mother?”