Abandoned Treasure Ch. 01-19

When I finally dropped off, the real nightmare began.

I was up at five and heading out the door by six. Our territory is large, bounded by National Forest and wilderness areas, and we get hunters and hikers despite the signs. On night patrols, we go in wolf form and run the border looking for humans and other Packs making incursions. Day patrols are on roads and ATV trails to avoid the risk of aircraft or satellites seeing a bunch of wolves running around the size of miniature horses. It's not unheard of to find trespassers deep inside our territory.

The patrol was quiet, and we returned to the Pack House in time for dinner. Alpha Todd made one announcement other than the usual Pack business. "A delegation of unmated males from the Monongahela Pack will be here on Friday afternoon, departing early Sunday for the Banff Pack in Canada," he told us. "Normal protocols will be in place. Your Betas will make the assignments."

"What does that mean for us," I asked the guys at the table. We had a half-dozen delegations visiting each year, but underage males were never a part of it.

"Lots of booze with guys you don't know," one guy said.

"It's not that big a deal," Darryl said. "It's something all the Packs do to find mates. When the delegation arrives, all our females of age line up outside. The Monongahela males will go down the line looking for their mates. Those that don't find them will want to party."

"Yeah, and it means a weekend without relief," one of the other guys said.

"The guests get to use the slaves?"

The table erupted in laughter. "Boy, nobody outside the Bitterroot Pack is allowed to know about those women unless the Alpha trusts them with the secret," the Gamma said.

"What do we do with them? Their scent will be everywhere."

"That's the bad part, boy," he replied. "We'll have to move them to a secondary camp deep in our territory on Wednesday, then clean the Pack House and common areas to eliminate their scents. It's a pain in the ass."

"And the best case for us is that they find no one," another added. "If they find a mate among our females, she goes with them."

"We get to go to their Pack later, right?"

The Gamma nodded. "When the Alpha sends a delegation, yes. We went on an East Coast swing two years ago, so it will be five or six years before we return." I looked shocked at this. "You're our only new unmated male since our last visit, and Packs don't have females coming of age often. With the travel and expense involved, we only send delegations every three to five years to three or so Packs. You'll hit them all over twenty years."

The mated males had guard duty for the slave females, taking them away Wednesday morning. The remaining Omegas worked hard to clean and remove their scents before the delegation arrived. The Alpha laid out his expectations for the visit, along with Alpha orders of what we could not reveal. We put on a good show for our West Virginia brothers. I was assigned to 'buddy' with a 20-year-old Omega who couldn't hold his liquor.

They left Sunday, hoping for better luck in Canada.

The Alpha held a 'welcome back' orgy that night after the slaves had returned and finished the cleanup. I switched with another warrior to go on patrol instead.

It didn't change a thing about their treatment, but I slept well when we returned.

Swapping patrol nights became my out over the next six months. I focused on my training and duties, not signing up for rooms or participating in the nightly debauchery. I couldn't avoid all of the orgies; the Alpha made them mandatory, and the Beta was catching on to my pattern of switching patrol assignments. He denied my request to patrol during tonight's party.

The Alpha called me into his office. "What is your problem, Nathan?"

"Sir?"

The Beta set a copy of my patrol schedule in front of me. "You've traded nights off for patrol the last ten parties," he said.

The Alpha shook his head. "Are you fucking gay, or what?"

"No, sir. I am waiting for my mate."

The two of them laughed. "So naïve," the Beta teased.

"I don't trust a man who represses normal desires," the Alpha replied. "You'll be at tonight's party and participate like everyone else. Once you find your mate, if you want to beg off, that's your business."

"Yes, sir." I didn't like it, but what choice did I have? Conformity, not independent thought, was valued within the Pack structure. The nail that stands above the others is the first to get pounded by the hammer.

I did manage to perform as the senior wolves watched. I'd figured out by now that other Packs didn't keep slaves or encourage fornication. Saving oneself for your mate was considered honorable and virtuous.

That was not the Bitterroot Pack way of life.

Chapter 4

Warrior Trainee Nathan Storm's POV

Oxbow Lake Pack

August 5, 2003 (3 Years Later)

"Maybe next trip will be better," Darrell said as he sank into the seat behind me. He had a water bottle, hoping to relieve the killer hangover he knew would be coming after last night's blowout. As the junior wolves on the trip, we'd be trading off the driving of our 12-passenger van. I didn't say anything; I was waiting for the Beta to finish speaking to Alpha Ulffson, then we would be on the road home.

"Three of us found our matches this trip," I said. "It wasn't a total loss." The East Coast run meant a LOT of driving. We first hit Monongahela in West Virginia, then northeast to Maine for Katahdin. On the way back, it was Adirondack Pack in New York and Oxbow Lake in Minnesota. We'd been on the road longer than we'd been visiting. After checking for mates, a group of single males wore out their welcome quickly in a strange pack.

"And we got out of here without anyone recognizing our scent from Arrowhead," he sent over the link. "The Alpha was right. Nobody could pick up our scents between the fire and the rain, and nobody knew Bitterroot was involved. Even the Council closed the case two years ago."

The Beta started walking my way, and I started up the van. "I can't wait to get out of here. We're too close to that place for my comfort."

I could feel his amusement over the link. "Nathan's superstitious? Afraid of ghosts? Are the spirits of the dead haunting your dreams?"

Yes. I couldn't tell anyone of the dreams that would wake me in a cold sweat a few times a month. "Too many dead, and they cursed us before they killed themselves. I can't imagine Luna is pleased with us. Do you see their faces when you close your eyes? Do you see the eyes of the children in the arms of their mothers? Do you wonder if any of those young girls would have grown to be your mate?"

The Beta touched my shoulder as he climbed on board, taking the passenger seat. "Let's go. Wake me in four hours, and find a decent place for lunch."

"Yes, sir," I replied. I put it in gear and drove away, letting out a breath as I did so. Darrell never answered me, which was an answer in itself.

I trusted Darrell like a brother; he was the only one I'd confessed my doubts to. It wasn't the kind of talk meant for general consumption. If the senior wolves heard warriors talk like that, they'd see it as questioning their leadership and squash it hard. They would kill a wolf they couldn't trust with the secret.

By the time I got to the main road, everyone was sleeping. The partying had gone late into the night, with me begging off at eleven because I had the first shift of driving. Getting werewolves drunk is not easy, but with enough booze, you can get there. Few of us got laid here, as the more traditional Packs were protective of their females and their purity.

The Garmin led me south through Duluth, eventually picking up Highway 10 West across cabin country. Between the summer tourist traffic and the road construction, four hours of driving put us into Wadena, Minnesota. When you have nine hungry wolves, you better find a buffet. "What do you think, Darrell? Pizza Ranch or the Chinese buffet?"

"Pizza and chicken," he said quickly. "Chinese buffet, and we'll be hungry again by two."

I couldn't argue with his logic. He woke everyone up, and I dropped them by the front door before heading down a block to gas up the van. The staff was trying to restock the buffet after the locust swarm that came through, so I started with dessert while waiting for the fresh pizzas. I had to eat fast to catch up before we left.

Darrell had it easy, hitting the Interstate while I was sleeping. I figured we'd be halfway to Montana by the time it was my turn to drive again. That wasn't the case. When the Beta woke everyone up ninety minutes later, we were on Interstate 29, north of Fargo, North Dakota. It was a flat, desolate landscape completely unsuited to wolves and hunting. "The fuck," I sent to Darrell.

"Change of plans," he sent back.

"We got a report of rogues in the Grand Forks area," the Beta said. "The Council wants it checked out, and we're the closest." Rogues were a danger to us all. Some had left existing Packs, while others lived outside the Pack system. Lacking the structure and guidance of an Alpha, their wolves were dangerous and sometimes feral. Alone, they could go mad and risk our exposure to humans. If they gathered a large enough group, they could threaten a Pack.

"We don't have weapons," one of the senior warriors said. "This wasn't a war party."

"I guess you'll have to use your brains, Thompson! I know that's hard for you," the Beta responded to our laughter. "We have to find the bastards first. The tipster caught a strong rogue scent from a wrecker belonging to Grand Forks Hauling and Towing."

Thompson piped up. "So we drive around until this piece of shit van breaks, then we call for a tow?"

The Beta flicked his head. "I told you to use this. We don't know how many there are. One whiff of the body odor in this van, and he'll head for Canada. I don't want to get one guy and scare the rest off. I want the whole fucking group, and we might have to take them with humans around."

The location made sense for rogues to settle down. Grand Forks was as far from a Pack or cat pride as possible. The college town was on a north-south route to the Canadian prairie, far from the Canadian Rockies. There were thousands of square miles of nothing around, and the land was cheap.

Luna knows we'd never be here if we didn't get the assignment.

Darrell found a hotel on the edge of town, and the Beta made assignments. One van wasn't enough, so a few guys rented cars. I went to Walmart to buy binoculars, scent-blocking soap, and food.

We put a few guys on stakeout around the tow yard while the rest of us began a south-to-north sweep of the town looking for their home. It was a needle in a haystack; the city had more than fifty thousand people, plus East Grand Forks on the other side of the Red River in Minnesota had another ten thousand. The university was on summer break, or it would have been worse. I figured driving around with the windows down was as likely to warn them off as to find them, but we followed orders.

The stakeout worked first, with the rogue arriving for work at six. He was a big guy in his forties. We got the license plate of his truck and called the Council. They used their contacts in law enforcement to get us a home address. It was a farm about ten miles north of town.

The Beta's plan was simple. Three warriors would call for a tow from a remote area near the farm. When the rogue male arrived, they would take him down while the rest of us hit the home.

That's how I ended up along the edge of a hay field at one in the morning. As the junior wolf, my job was to cover the back in case anyone tried to escape. "Beta, the tow truck is coming," I heard over the link.

"He'll figure it out as soon as he gets out of the cab. Stand by."

I crept forward in my wolf form. It would be almost a half-mile run, much longer than the others since I was upwind.

"GO! Take them down!"

I sprinted across the field while the other wolves reported their progress. Lights began to turn on in the home; the tow truck driver had linked a warning to his family. It wouldn't matter; we had five wolves converging on them, and the old farmhouse wouldn't have a safe room. The other wolves would crash through the doors and windows any second.

I was halfway there when I heard the first gunshots and felt the pain through the Pack link. "Take the women alive," the Beta ordered.

I was almost in the backyard when a scent made me stumble and fall to the ground. "MATE MATE MATE," my wolf told me.

I growled and shifted on the back porch, ripping the door open as I smelled her blood.

Chapter 5

Warrior Trainee Nathan Storm's POV

Outside Grand Forks, North Dakota

August 6, 2003

I stepped over the body of a young man in the kitchen. A wolf had torn out his throat, and his weakening heart pumped his remaining blood onto the vinyl floor. I nearly slipped and fell on the slippery surface, catching myself on the table. I stood again and headed for the stairway.

"Bring the van and get the first aid kit up here NOW," the Beta thundered over the link.

"Is it Chad?"

"He's fucking gone, shotgun to the face. I want the girl saved. She's bleeding out."

SHIT! I took a detour into the bathroom, grabbing clean towels and rubbing alcohol out of the cabinets before heading up. Lance was right behind me, carrying the big first aid kit. The Beta and two other wolves were kneeling by the bathroom door, my mate's pale legs sticking out between them. "Towels," I said as I rushed forward. "You have to save her, Beta. She's my MATE." My wolf was going nuts from the smell.

"Fucking great," the Beta said. "Tie one around that gash on her leg until I can fix her artery." Senior warriors got medical training from the Pack Doctor to assist in treating battlefield wounds; they were the equivalent of combat medics. I had First Responder training, one step up from basic First Aid. I moved next to Brent, tying a towel around her wounded calf as he slid his hand out from underneath.

"Retractors and clamps," the Beta ordered. As Brent leaned back, I got my first look at my mate. She was beautiful, a teenager with curly black hair and the body of a gymnast. She couldn't be more than five feet tall, with an angelic face now covered with blood. Her left shoulder was torn open to the bone. Edward was applying pressure under her shoulder while the Beta looked for the torn artery. Lance hung an IV bag on her right hand to replace fluids. "Got it," he said as he got the second vascular clamp in place. Working quickly, he sewed up the torn artery before releasing a clamp and checking for leaks. "Good enough for government work."

He rinsed the wound clean, then fixed the smaller veins. After stitching the muscle together, he used a surgical stapler to close the skin. "She's lost a lot of blood," Edward said.

"No shit. Check the purse. See if there's a blood type on the driver's license or something."

The Beta had me release the soaked towel, and he sutured up the gash while Edward looked around. He was finishing up when Edward tossed the purse on the bed. "Carol Sampson has no blood type listed. She's nineteen years old and has a student ID from the University of North Dakota."

"I'm O-negative," I volunteered. "Universal donor."

He looked at the other men. "Carry her to the van," he ordered. I led the way out. Four naked men used a blanket as a makeshift litter to carry her to the waiting van. I reclined the front-row seat, then stepped aside as they set my Carol in place. She was still unconscious, and her heartbeat was weak. The Beta set up the transfusion as the other men sanitized the scene.

Chad was left where he fell outside the room; his family would have to understand. It wasn't practical to drive eighteen hours with a dead two-hundred-pound wolf in the back. The men poured gasoline and diesel fuel everywhere, including the cars and the barn. My mate's mother and brother would turn to ash, removing the evidence of our bites and presence.

Brent and Tony were the last to return after lighting the fires. The farmhouse and barn were engulfed by flames when our van lost sight of it on the prairie. "Where to, Beta?"

"Airport," he replied. We had to wait an hour before the others got in. The three that took down the tow truck driver had to hide his body and bring the car to the off-hours return lot.

I'd completed my transfusion, as had one other wolf. I'd given too much, as I was slightly dizzy. I could tell by the heartbeat that my mate was slowly dying. The Beta shook his head after checking her vitals once we were back on the road. "I can't do anything else, Nathan."

"Can you drop the two of us at a hospital? Maybe they can save her."

He Gibbs-slapped me. "Are you fucking stupid? She's a ROGUE, boy. She can't be talking to human police. I'll sooner put a bullet in both of your fucking heads and bury you in the Badlands."

"She's my MATE!"

"That might help," he said as he sat back. "Mark her. Once your wolves have a connection, you can lend her strength."

"She's out of it," I said. "She can't agree to the mating or bite me back."

"Nathan, if your mate doesn't turn it around soon, she'll die before we hit Bismarck. You don't have a choice. You can ask her to forgive you if she survives." He put his hand on my shoulder, squeezed it, then returned to the shotgun seat.

I looked down at my mate's face. I'd cleaned the blood from her pale face, and her eyes still hadn't opened. I only knew her name from her driver's license. I didn't know if she was a good person. I didn't know why her family was rogue. I didn't know much of anything, but I knew enough.

Luna had paired us together for a reason. I had to trust the Goddess and her judgment.

I let my wolf push forward, shifting my teeth into their wolf form. A claiming bite was different than the fighting bite on her left shoulder. It was all about intent.

I tilted my head and placed my jaws over the junction of her neck and the right shoulder. "I'm sorry," I thought as I bit down, my wolf surging forward to establish the link between us.

I felt her presence enter my mind. My mate was weak, but she was there. I settled next to her, the skin tingling where we touched, and prayed for her to make it.

I woke two hours later at a truck stop off Interstate 94. "Take a piss and get back out here," the Beta told us.

"You look weak," Darrell said as I got out.

"Get yourself a half-gallon of juice and a big meal," the Beta agreed. "That's a lot of blood to replace."

Few things are less trustworthy than a gas station burrito, but that's what I was choking down when we got back on the road. I washed it down with the orange juice. I was encouraged by Carol's vitals; her blood pressure, though weak, was starting to recover. The Beta had contacted our Alpha; he and the Pack Doctor were traveling east to meet us and take over care.

Carol didn't wake as we pulled onto a deserted road outside Billings, Montana. Their vehicle, a cargo van converted to a werewolf ambulance, pulled alongside a few minutes later. James Sterling, our Pack Doctor, took charge of Carol while the Alpha walked off with the Beta. A few minutes later, he'd connected Carol to the machines in the back. "Let's get going," Doc said to the driver.

I put my leg up to climb in next to her. "Nathan," the Alpha barked.

I turned and looked at him, showing my neck in submission. "Yes, Alpha."

"Go back to your seat. Doc doesn't need your help."

My jaw dropped. "The rogue is my mate, Alpha."

"Go." I couldn't fight the command. I closed the door, banging twice on it, then turned back to the waiting passenger van.