Julius, warrior of Howl Pack above

Ten years later

Julius POV

Disable werewolves are as much a curiosity as flying pigs, especially the ones who are perfectly healthy in their wolf form but can't walk in their human; no doctors I consulted can explain this phenomenon. It's already been almost 11 years, and nothing has changed, not that I complain anymore. I guess I just got used to it. 

 I'm strong enough to get in my wheelchair everywhere, which hasn't affected my job until now. And about my mate, well, I guess I finally got out of the hell she had put me in, although it took me years to do so.

My wolf, Drake, seems to be more deep than usual in my mind; I don't feel him that often because our connection is faded. I control him entirely in both our forms, but we are not as strong as we were anymore. His emotions are shut away from me; he is always in constant zombie mode. But at least I still have him, at least I still can shift, or I would be utterly useless for the pack. I know why he has chosen not to heal me and why he has closed his heart and mind from me; I understand him and want to believe he understands me. That's why he hasn't left me entirely. He is still next to me, although no longer with me.

I look around my room's mess, clothes and dirt scattered everywhere, empty bottles on the floor, and a not-so-nice smell. Well, just because I haven't reached the total bottom yet doesn't mean I'm good. I'm just in a little better shape than I was a couple of years ago, no less, no more. I'm no longer toxic. Now I'm just grumpy and bitter all the time.

I sit slowly and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, mostly the claw scars on my torso; although they weren't made with silver, they will probably stay there forever. Well, not that it matters; the sluts I hook up with occasionally don't care how I look. My head is killing me, so today, my mood will be as foul as yesterday's.

I leave my bed; it's 5 am, I should be on the training grounds in an hour, and I still should prepare some breakfast for Trist. The only good thing Madison managed to leave behind here is a 12-year-old teenager with no sassy attitude, which astonishes me daily. Not that we can talk that much recently. He usually sleeps when I leave and is already in bed when I return home, but since he started school, I always make him breakfast every day.

Sitting in my wheelchair, I ride to the kitchen, handling a daily routine. We don't live in the packhouse, although right at the beginning, Alpha suggested it, I was too proud to accept. And I also didn't want everybody to know how bad things were between Madison and me then. Not that it changed anything or could save anything, nor could it ever reverse what I had done. Soon after my mate was gone, my uncle Preston forced me to move in with his family since they decided I was too destructive to be alone with the toddler. Well, they were right; I was drunk almost all the time. The only reason Trist was able to survive his early childhood was that my late aunt was taking care of him most of the time.

I don't like to think about that time; I got a grip somehow. It's not perfect, but at least it's bearable.

The slight knock on my door gets me to stop spacing out. Chen, the Beta of Howl Pack, enters my house and goes toward the coffee, as usual.

"How come you always know when I have coffee ready?" I complain as he fills a big mug for himself.

"How come you can always make some decent coffee, especially in this pill of trash your home is? My wife burned another coffee machine this morning. I have no idea how she has managed to do that again."

We chuckle as I finish preparing the breakfast for my boy, and my friend sits at my table. You may try to say that the kitchen is clean, at least almost clean, or maybe not as dirty as the rest of the house.

"We have recently noticed the increasing number of rogues passing near us," Chen says.

"But there was no incident?" I ask, "Do we have to tighten our security?"

"No, but as much as I don't like to admit it, I know why there are so many. During the last ten years, we haven't encountered any hunters. When we got rid of their Alliance, they all perished, but now ten years later, the word spread that here in Oregon, there are no hunter clans, so I presume the rogues are coming to settle because it's safer for them in this state than in others, so..."

"So our solution to one problem has created a new one, a life, I suppose," I say sternly" I am not a Head Warrior anymore. I'm in charge of training. You should discuss it with my uncle when he and Brandon return."

"Your cousin may be the strongest among warriors, but he is stupid; he will never be a Head Warrior, and your uncle is getting old. Soon we will have to make changes. You heard that Brandon didn't do the job he was supposed to do?"

I frown in surprise; I haven't heard about it.

"He found his mate, so instead of making the full journey with his father, he has decided to spend one month in his mate's pack to get to know him, so your uncle had to make all the rest of the visits alone."

"Well, if he met his mate, then it can be understood," I say slowly; meeting your mate is significant—literally, the one making your life turn upside down.

"And that's why neither I nor Alpha said anything, but my point is, once again, his own business was more important than the pack's business."

I don't comment. Brandon is my cousin; he and my uncle are the only families I and Trist have. We even live together, except for my uncle, who recently moved into the packhouse. I see Brandon as a family member, but we are not close. He was just the only one who stayed in the family house after his sisters moved out to transfer to their husbands' packs. And my uncle, after his wife died, chose to live in the packhouse, saying it would make his duties easier.

"Well, Brandon phoned saying he will be back with his marked mate this evening, so get ready to have more people home."

"Do you know anything about this, mate?" I ask, getting a little angry; Brandon should have at least called and informed me that they would be someone more in our house. And are they marked? That's not surprising; I guess it's just clicked between him and his mate. Good for them.

"Not much; he is from Black Moon Pack and is a son of Beta Hank. Which means another man in this house, one day we will find all four of you dead under all those trash."

"And they let the heir to the Beta Bloodline leave?" I ask, surprised, very surprised; inheriting the power in pack structure is crucial in every pack.

"He is not the heir, the heir to the Beta Hank is his second child, a daughter. Don't look at me like that; I don't know why the son was excluded. I hope he won't be any trouble."

I sigh. Well, I hope too. Yet, this house is big enough, so the four of us can make it work somehow.

"Oh, and Natasha wants to talk with you this afternoon, so after you finish training our future warriors, go to her porch." Chen stands up and goes to the door.

I sigh and shift and, in my wolf form, run to the training ground. Then I do my thing, which is training warriors. Although a cripple, I'm still firm and fully respected. Chen is right; it has been so calm for the last ten years. Howl Pack flourished, and sometimes I feel that some wolves get too comfortable because of that. But Natasha and Chen rule very well, so our pack is peaceful, maybe too peaceful. Howl's territory includes quite a big area with forest where the packhouse and houses of the pack member as scattered, and the closest town, along with the area rented to one of the human corporations for mining,  is the primary source of the pack's income.

I try to find something decent to wear in the afternoon as I hear the front door, and Tristan stands before me. He looks exactly like his mother, thin, blonde, a little bit delicate, not like me, and I shouldn't be surprised.

His green eyes look at me with questions; he hasn't expected to find me at home at this hour.

"Get ready. We will be eating today with the Alpha," I say " Brandon is going to bring his mate today to live with us."

"Do you think she can clean?" he asks with hope, but I shrug him off.

"Don't think so. It's a guy," I say.

Later he pushes my wheelchair toward the packhouse, and we talk, or more likely, he speaks, and I try to listen, but I'm not very committed to doing that. His grades are decent, and he stays out of trouble. What else could I wish for?

The packhouse slowly emerges from among the trees; not a very fancy building, Natasha's mate wanted it to be appropriable, not impressive. 

 Natasha is sitting on the porch surrounded by papers; she is probably the only Alpha in the whole state who does her Alpha's job on the porch, not in the study, sometimes even in winter. She is a very handsome woman in her prime, 15 years older than me, and I'm 37. Her hair is already grey, and her face is full of wrinkles; you can see years of struggle on her face, that's for sure. And yet she always smiles so brightly, no matter what. You can mistake her for a nice aunty, but beware if you make her angry. She is an Alpha no less, no more.

As I approach her, I ask Trist to wait for us in the living room.

"How are you? Recently, my fresh warriors keep complaining that you are a machine and you cannot have any human emotions, such as tiredness or compassion?" She says, making me frown.

"I'd say I'm not;  I just don't show them very often. Chen mentioned that you wanted to talk with me."

"We will have to make some important decisions soon, but the most important is an Alpha succession." She says in a sad voice, and I get tense instantly.

"As you know, I'm not getting any younger, my mate is dead, and I don't have children, so the line of succession in Howl Pack isn't secure, and this problem is slowly getting serious."

"What about Chen? According to the tradition, Beta should be next in line?"

"The problem is taking the Alpha position by me wasn't very traditional, so I think all the elders should start serious talk about it very soon."

"Why are you talking about it with me? I'm no longer the Head Warrior and..."

"If it wasn't for your situation, or I'd say stubbornness, you would be Beta by now, not Chen, and we would be discussing yours taking Alpha's position, not Chen," she gives me a stern look. "Whenever you like it or not, your rank in the pack is high. It's been over ten years, Julius. Maybe it's time for you to end this pity party you are so indulged in."

I don't comment, but I also don't look at her. Somehow, I feel a little ashamed.

"What happened wasn't your fault Julius; it was..."

"We will not discuss this; we decided to keep quiet so that we will keep quiet, please, Natasha," I say coldly. It's been years, but nothing will ever change what I've done, no matter how much I want it. Things are what they are, and what can't be cured must be endured.

Natasha can't pressure me more because the car stops before the packhouse, and my cousin Brandon steps out of it with his mate. I have a problem with catching my breath; something stirs inside me. He is so beautiful.