Description

Bred by Wolves, by Jezebel Rose

The pack compound was well hidden high in the mountains, nestled in a small hidden valley and utterly unknown to the human population of summer hikers or winter skiers over the years. High concrete and rock walls guarded the entire territory, with signs claiming Private Property, Beware of Dogs, and You Will Be Eaten. It is a private joke among were-packs, but the random VERY LOST human hiker would not know the dogs were werewolves. They had never actually had a human come close to finding the place, but with logging and human expansion, it could happen at any time. The most of the pack members rarely left their territory unless they needed supplies, in hopes to keep the centuries-old secret of their existence for as long as possible. Unfortunately, this was one of those times they needed supplies.

Rhon McKade and the lowest ranking member of the pack males, William, made their way swiftly down the mountain road, utterly void of traffic. The old Jeep crept into town under cover of darkness, no moon in sight.

“Will quit fidgeting,” Rhon said quietly, glancing at the younger man who was scratching at his legs.

“I’m not used to these pants,” Will wind. “They itch!” He was wearing faded blue jeans, but the pack members rarely wore modern clothes, as they were much harder to come by so far away from civilization. They wore buckskin and fir if they bothered to wear clothes at all.

“Ignore it and focus. If you do something to get us caught, you won’t be coming back with me to the compound.” Rhon threatened. “I brought you to keep guard.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Rhon.” Will sighed. “I don’t smell any humans anywhere.”

“Me either.” Rhon stifled a yawn and pulled into the small back lot of the grocery store. Breaking in was not a problem. The old man who owned the place never bothered with a security system, and only locked the doors. Rhon learned to pick a lock by the time he was five. The store was dark, but the two men had no trouble seeing as they swiftly packed up the Jeep with as many canned goods and other supplies as they could transport. They were in and out within a half an hour, with enough supplemental food supplies to last the pack through the winter months when they could not grow their gardens or hunt as often. They would return in spring when the snow melted enough to make the roads passable again.

Rhon knew that the supplies he brought home were worth the risks they took coming to town. Still, worry ate at his gut when he spotted one of the town cops on the night shift. “Please, please don’t follow us…don’t look at the plates.” He muttered. He drove carefully past the parked police car and made sure to come to a complete stop at the light. When they turned the corner and sped up a little, the cop was not behind them. Being pulled over by a cop was one of the biggest dangers the pack faced when coming into civilization. Will exhaled a big sigh of relief. “That was close.” He breathed.

Rhon breathed a sigh of relief only when the compound was back within sight. One of the guards, Alex, waved them through the moat-like river bridge and into the mixture. There were five miles of a dirt driveway lined with huge granite rocks and cedars before they reached the main compound. Each time they went out, he worried. Would they be caught? Would a rival pack attack? Would his brother Declan be able to hold the pack together if he was captured?

They lived their lives under the radar. No member of the pack had human legal papers…no birth certificate, no social security number, no driver’s license, no nothing. They did not exist. They could not afford to be seen by humans any more than necessary. It was forbidden by the council to keep the secret of lycanthropes just a human myth, to prevent the hunts from starting again, just like the ancient times. As far as Rhon knew, no human knew werewolves existed. Rhon preferred it that way.

The compound was well hidden by trees, and if some human happened to fly overhead, it looked like nothing more than an abandoned campground. In truth, there were twelve members of a were-wolf pack living there. Rhon’s father, a mining engineer, named Cullum had built the large, multilevel log cabin to blend in with the entrance to a long ago forgotten gold mine.

The house itself was roughly T shaped if the T were sideways. The open part of the cabin was the very long dining hall/meeting area. Directly above that, on the second story is the library, computer room, and the game room. On the first floor, the communal hearth fireplace connected the dining hall and the kitchen. The kitchen was built with a dome-shaped roof directly flush into the rock wall so that the cooking area was entirely enclosed in rock. The pack roamed deep into the belly of the mountain, using the ferocity and steel reinforced mineshafts as hidden tunnels. Completely protected by steel and titanium vault doors leading out of the kitchen, deeper into the mountain, is the top of the T: several rooms used as a schoolroom and nursery, a scientific lab, a small medical lab, a secondary kitchen and living area, private sleeping quarters and storage, and farther back into the cave system is the water system, the brewery, the hot springs, freshwater pools, and a small fish hatchery pool. There were several cave rooms left empty until needed. The farthest back was the main mineshaft that still housed a fair amount of the gold that funded the entire building of the compound.

Cullum McKade built his house to be a self-contained fortress, now modernized and updated with solar panels, hydropower, and electricity. The compound was established by past generations of the McKade pack’s architects, miners, electricians, and civil and mechanical engineers and the tradition held through Callum’s sons and other members of the package. Each person took up a trade, mostly learned with the Internet and experience. The pack members never went to school, and are self-taught. They all learn quickly, as were-intelligence rivaled and occasionally passed human genius levels. They have electricity, and modern conveniences, like the computer, television, and phones, but do not communicate with humans, just with other groups of werewolves. The rivalry did not often happen in the past but has become more common in recent years, as the female were-wolf population has dwindled down to almost nothing. The local packs had begun to fight each other for the mature females, so lately phones were barely used.

“Welcome home Rhon!” Declan’s deep baritone voice boomed from the front door of the house.

William was already out, and beginning to unload the Jeep. The second group had already dumped their non-food supplies: batteries, lanterns, candles, boxes of old newspapers, tools, fishing supplies, fuel, plastic sheeting, hygiene items, first aid items, blankets, clothes, shoes and various other nonessentials that they liked, books, music, DVDs. William began adding to the pile. With the help of the others, they had several dozen cans of fruit, vegetables, beans, chili, and soup. Sacks and of potatoes, carrots, peppers, mushrooms, and onions were stacked neatly. Oatmeal, pancake mix, Ramen, flour, sugar, cornmeal, yeast, canned cream soups, canned tomatoes, peanut butter and jelly, cereal, canned and dried milk boxes were stacked neatly. Coffee, tea, cocoa, canned juices, Crisco, various pasta, rice, marinara sauce, different spices, condiments, and bricks of cheese were added to the pile. Dozens of cases of bottled water was last to come out of the Jeep. Rhon noticed someone from the second group pilfered some cake mixes and other baking supplies, probably in hopes of some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

The pack had several months’ worth of frozen meat and harvested and canned fruits and veggies stored. During the spring and summer months, the bulk of their days are spent hunting and gathering, storing food. They relaxed more in the winter months, researching their chosen professions, perfecting their various crafts, repairing tools, making clothes, playing games, reading, and generally keeping themselves from going stir crazy indoors. The summer months, they were hardly ever indoors, preferring to spend days running in the hills and hunting.

The bulk of the pack diet consisted of meat and simple carbohydrates to keep their fat stores in the winter. They would not starve this winter if they were careful to ration out their food. Rhon was not sure what they would do without the help of the store manager for the last few years. Their diet had gotten a lot better with the old man’s help. His pack had dwindled in size, from nearly forty members, down to thirteen in the last five years due to starvation, the sickness, and rivalry among other clans. The number would be even smaller if they continued to starve each winter as many packs did. If the council knew the McKade clan periodically went into human populated areas to steal supplies, there would be hell to pay. Rhon was willing to take the risk if it meant his family survived.

“Brother…any news from the council?” Rhon clapped his twin on the back.

“Yes,” Declan said. “I don’t like it any more than you will.” Each Pack was represented by one of its oldest members, and they met once a month at the new moon in a hidden location to discuss various topics related to were-wolf business…trading, mating ceremonies, birthing announcements, conflicts, scouting reports, pack merges, any human interaction reports, and lately, the virus and what to do about the near werewolf extinction.

For the last several years, the women have been dying of sickness before they mature and the mature ones who survive have been unable to produce any live female pups, only male ones, and the problems seem to be getting worse. Without enough females, any species will die out almost entirely within one or two generations, and were-people are no exception.

“What did Anna say?” Rhon asked, grabbing four cases of stacked water and carrying them toward the porch. The other men and women came out of the house to help bring the supplies to the kitchen.

“Ask her yourself Rhon…she can explain it,” Declan said, carrying in the water behind him. Declan left quickly and stayed outside with the rest of the men to tell Will what he had missed.

“Rhon!” Anna’s musical voice called from the kitchen. “Come to speak with me.”

Rhon put the water down on the kitchen floor and walked over to Anna who was sitting at the table dicing thick slabs of meat into a large bowl.

“Grandmother, may I help?” Rhon asked. She nodded toward a pile of potatoes, and he began slicing. “So, how did the council meeting go?” He asked.

Anna huffed. “Mostly as boring as ever. But the council voted almost unanimously in favor of reinstating the pupae ferules.”

“THEY DID WHAT!” Rhon’s voice boomed through the whole compound.

“He knows!” Declan said to the others outside. The other seven men, Declan, Thomas, Alex, Ellison, Marshall, Quinn, and Will, were not particularly happy about it either, and the other women of the pack, all three of them, were livid. Lily, Valerie, and Jamie refused to speak with the men or Anna because she was in favor of it.

“They can’t!” Rhon’s sputtered. “That’s archaic! The women won’t stand for it!”

“They don’t have a choice. We don’t have a choice!” Anna said, pointing a knife at him. “The packs are all in agreement, save one, but even they agreed after a while that we could no longer wait.”

“I won’t force our women to do it! I won’t do it!” He said firmly.

“The council figured you would say that,” Anna said. “But as a leader, you must participate. If you do not, you will be forced to step down, and Declan will be the leader of the McKade pack.” Anna said simply. “You have to.”

Rhon’s hand froze. The chopping stopped. “WHAT!”

A challenge for leadership was a fight to the death. Rhon growled a low, rumbling in his throat that grew louder. Rhon threw a potato as hard as he could as he stormed out of the room roaring for his brother. The strength of any were-creature, especially an angry one, is a force to be reckoned with. The potato sat wedged into the far wall of the dining room.

“Ha!” Anna snickered. “At least he didn’t break the window!” She began rolling the bear meat in a flour mixture for stew. “We will have to patch that up.” She muttered.

“DID YOU AGREE TO THIS?” Rhon roared, storming up to Declan. The two brothers stood toe to toe, eye-to-eye, identical in almost every way, except for the scar Rhon carried over his left brow from a scuffle years ago.

“I don’t want to have to take your place, Rhon! It wasn’t my idea!” Declan said firmly. “You know you are the better leader for our pack…you have to do this Rhon. You have to BE the leader, even when you don’t want to.” Declan was quick to calm his brother down and always had been. While Rhon was raised to lead, being older by just a few minutes; Declan was elevated to lead the clan too, but only in his brother’s shadow. Rhon and Declan were close as any twin brothers, but their tempers were like night and day. Rhon was bold, passionate, outgoing, strong-willed, demanding, fire. Declan was more mellow, steady, joked around and laid-back, like calm water. He could lead if he had to, but he never desired to challenge his brother and preferred his second-in-command status. He would not hesitate to kill for his brother to stay leader, should an outsider attempt to take his brother’s Alpha status, but Declan would never make it from him. In truth, they ruled together, and everyone knew it. Declan’s words were just as much respected, but Rhon’s word was final.

“I can’t believe this!” Rhon growled.

“Father would have gone along with this in hopes to increase our numbers,” Declan said quietly.

“I know,” Rhon said. “I feel like we are taking a step back. It’s so…uncivilized!” He ground out.

Declan laughed then. “Rhon…we are were-wolves…how civilized can we be? We aren’t exactly human.”

Rhon sighed. “How are the girls?”

“They are angry…but I think it will pass…eventually.” Declan shook his head. “They don’t like the idea of other women here or the idea of being treated like nothing more than breeders.”

“I can’t blame them,” Rhon said. “It could destroy all of us even faster than the sickness.”

Lupae ferculus is an ancient practice of changing human women into were-wolves for the sole purpose of repopulating the species. It had been outlawed for several hundred years, but in recent years, the genetic pool of were-wolves got too thin, and several females began to get sick and die. The ones who survived have not been able to produce female heirs successfully. Lupae ferculus dictates that the Alpha male must choose three human women, force the change on them, and mate with each of them before the end of the next moon cycle. Whichever one gets pregnant first becomes his mate for life. The other two women are given to the Beta male to impregnate. The first to produce a female heir becomes his mate for life. The third unlucky women are shared among all the men. If none of the men can get her pregnant after the third year, she is killed or traded to another pack.

The born were-wolf women of the pack must choose one of the lower ranking men as a mate, so long as he is not directly related to her. If she does not produce an heir with any of the unrelated men in her pack, she must choose a triad of human men to turn and mate with them all until she becomes pregnant by each of them, which takes a few years. The decree continues until the population is put into balance again, generally taking several years. The practice became outlawed when several pack Clans destroyed themselves fighting over their women and dwindled the numbers further instead of gaining them. For the council to reinstate such a thing must mean the numbers have decreased more than he initially thought?

“Well, shit!” He growled. “This leadership gig sucks.”

Declan snorted. Whenever his brother said that it meant he was resigned to his role and whatever the task. As the pack leader, he would follow through on it, even if he hated it. Declan clapped his arm, laughing. “Better you than me brother!” Declan stated for probably the ten thousandth time in their life. They both laughed at the exchange.

“Let’s get the rest of this stuff put away, Declan, and then gather the others in the meeting hall,” Rhon said, grabbing several cardboard flats of canned goods.

Valerie and Jamie, who were nearly in tears, were busy setting the table in the great room. It was a simple, long wooden picnic style table, about twelve feet in length, with two long benches that were also used as storage bins for supplies and tools. Their dishes were simple, wood carved platters, cups, bowls made by Rhon himself. That was his craft, his specialty. He sliced and built things. Dishes, cabinets, drawers, shelves, furniture. He also helped to maintain the exterior of the house, made the greenhouse under the directions of Val, their budding agriculturist. Rhon’s most recent project was repairing the four small, disheveled cabins along the lake to be used for future storage areas and summer sleeping quarters.

Jamie slammed down the last cup as Rhon came into the room carrying the last load of supplies…this time a large box full of several DVD’s and CD’s to be added to the entertainment library upstairs.

Rhon eyed Valerie, looking for direction, but she only glared at him. He sighed.

“Ok, everyone let us eat!” Lily called upstairs as she carried the enormous pot of stew to the table. Anna followed carrying two large platters of freshly baked bread. Valerie followed her moving a pitcher of homemade ale and a pitcher of milk. Anna returned to the table taking a huge carved bowl full of salad. Quinn made a second pot of stew, and Thomas balanced a platter of corn on the cob and a large bowl of rice.

The hungry group settled around the table, with Rhon on one end and Anna at the other. The others filed in on both sides of them, sitting quietly. They never ate until Rhon made announcements.

“William and I came back without incident tonight,” He started off, looking around the room. “But I suspect that will change when I return to the town to comply with the Lupae ferculus decree placed on all werewolf Alphas.” He said tightly. “I don’t agree with the decision of the council, but I will respect it, and do my best to honor it for as long as it takes to restore the population to what it once was. I expect all of you to do your part in abiding by this ruling as well.” Rhon said calmly.

“I won’t!” Jamie shouted, glaring around the room. “I won’t do it!” She was only fifteen, and the youngest of all the members of the pack. Rhon sighed. He expected the most opposition to come from her. She had yet to be mated to any member of the box, and now she was a virgin forced into marriage to produce children. Valerie was only newly mated to William and Lily to Kellison. Anna was too old to mate with any one of the group, and would not be expected to perform the Lupae freculus. The only male members of the pack that was in Jamie’s age group were Marshall and Quinn. She would have to choose between the two of them and possibly have sex with both of them because they were not directly blood-related. She had been adopted into their clan when Jamie’s group was near starvation, and her older sister had mated with Rhon’s little brother, Thomas, but Laura had died several years ago, like so many other members of their clan.

Rhon glanced at Quinn and Marshall, who were each alternately staring at Jamie and each other. They both looked down the table at their leader, not sure what to say.

“Jamie…none of us likes this situation, but we must all do what we can to ensure our survival, even you,” Rhon said reasonably.

“Why?” She said, being fired up. “What does it matter anyway? We are so hidden away, so secret…what does it matter if we all die out? No one would ever notice us missing! We don’t exist to the outside world!”

“Jamie, that’s enough!” Thomas said quietly.

Rhon glanced at Declan, who by the expression on his face, Rhon knew he felt she had a valid point. He sighed. “It matters to the council, and to me, Jamie, and it should matter to all of us. We are all born with a self-preservation instinct, even more so than humans are, because of our beast. IT DOES MATTER, Jamie.” He said firmly. “We are dying, and when we die, our ways die our traditions, and we will be lost to history, only to be lied about in mythology books.”

“I don’t care!” Jamie burst out.

“Sweetheart…that will change soon.” Anna interjected in her always-soothing voice, “On the eve of the first full moon after your sixteenth birthday.” It was the time when all adolescent were-teenagers feel the need to mate so strongly that they cannot deny it. For the females, it is the first time they are finally mature enough to produce offspring, and their beast will demand a mate for life. To not do so is unheard of. If they do not have a mate, they go crazy and uncontrollable. Some had been killed in the past, to keep others safe. Most choose a mate before that time, but Jamie had not yet chosen between Quinn and Marshall. “No one is asking you to do anything before that time.”

Jamie’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. She was also the shyest member of the clan, and although she knew what was expected of her, she was horrified at the mere thought of it. She did not speak out again the entire meal…she was too mortified. Her birthday was coming sooner than she wanted it, and that night she knew that biologically she would be forever changed. While she will have gained more control over her full moon change, she will be expected to have sex for the first time, in front of the entire clan, first in human form as part of the wedding ceremony, then again, as a wolf, the next night, to allow their beasts to mate for life.

“How do you plan to go about this?” Thomas asked. “Human women don’t even know we exist, and it’s not like we can tell them we exist and expect them to come willingly.”

“I don’t know yet. How long do we have to choose?” Rhon asked Anna.

“Before the end of the next moon cycle,” Anna said. “So that they can be mated on the next full moon.”

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

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