Dawn's Destiny

They'd shared their bodies again as the sun dipped below the trees and the dusky purple of twilight faded to night. He savored her vulnerability and her trust in him. She slept in his arms, sighing sated sighs of contentment as she dreamed. He slid his arm free and gently placed her head on the pillow. It was a poor substitute for the warmth of flesh. But, it would have to do. He'd been stretched out next to her, watching her sleep for over an hour. Wondering what dreams a woman like her dared to dream. Marveling at the play of silvery moonbeams filtering through the gingham curtains to dance across the shadowy planes of her rosy cheeks. God, she was truly beautiful. And he'd never forget the gifts she'd granted him with this, the most wonderful day of his entire life.

His body tensed and his skin rippled with a surge of magic and the call of his wolf. The woods were alive with wolf music. Their soulful howls spoke to that part of his soul that was still wolf. Pack magic and the fullness of the moon would not be denied on this night. Grant forced his muscles to still, his body to hold its human shape. For once, he begrudged his wolf its power over him. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no." Claire couldn't see him. If she woke, she'd know. And she'd hate him for the unbelievable secret he'd kept from her. She'd be terrified of him. She'd look at him with horror and fear. And she'd never let him hold her, kiss her, get within fifty feet of her ever again.

It was all Grant could do to awkwardly ease his way out of the bed. Praying to God he didn't wake her and she saw the beast he was about to become. The magic was hot and intense, demanding his response. And he had no choice. He'd barely managed to inch the door to the cabin closed behind him before the shift claimed him. Muscle ripped from bone. Flesh tore and reformed. Every tendon was reshaped, altered and rebuilt. Grant swallowed back an agonized scream and clawed at the grass beneath him. His teeth elongated into razor sharp fangs and his fingernails in to lethal claws. Fur budded and grew, covering his human skin. The scream he'd been holding back escaped his throat and it was not the scream of a human man but the howl of a wolf.

Grant was a prisoner in his own body. Jailed in the flesh and fur of his wolf. He pounded at the boundaries of his mind. But, was unable to escape the power Pack magic held over him. The wolf gathered his bearings and shook off the last remnants of its human self. Bolting for the woods to join his brothers and sisters. Thoughts of Claire disappeared, torn from Grant's mind. Replaced by instinct, by the thrill of the hunt, and the call of wolf song.

Tala didn't relish what she had to do. Drew was on the hunt and she longed to be out there with him. Instead she was eyeballing the potential candidates for her first real meal with particular disdain. She had to do this for Drew's sake as much as for her own. She'd been a hypocrite demanding things of him she couldn't do herself. She just couldn't work up a decent hunger at the scent of human blood. And the thought of it completely grossed her out. This should be instinctive. Her vampire nature should kick in and it should be as simple as snatching up someone and sinking her fangs into their neck. But, it wasn't. And she could not do it. More annoyed with herself, at her reluctance to embrace her second and just as true nature, she stormed off into the distant boundary of the woods.

Her wolf scratched at her mind, scrabbling for her freedom. Tala wasn't about to give it to her. No, this was her time not her wolf's and even though the heady sound of wolf song and the dazzling tingle of Pack magic called to her wolf. She was not setting her free. Tala had never been exactly thrilled by her wolf's choice of cuisine. Waking up in the body they shared with the thick, coppery taste of a fresh kill on the tip of her tongue was not something she relished. And she had no doubt her wolf would appreciate taking over their shared form with the taste of human blood on her tongue either.

Maybe, she was a better human than her wolf was a wolf. Maybe, she truly was just a coward and didn't have the guts to drive her fangs into someone's neck and suck the life out of them. With Drew it was different. She'd indulged and it was pleasurable, heaven, and his taste decadent as fine chocolate. But, real blood, human blood, it couldn't be that good. Or could it?

The Pack hunted to the south of the bluffs. Tala wandered well out of their path, fearful she'd confuse their sense of smell, staying to the west and downwind. Drew needed this time to bond with those he intended to rule. The brothers tracked beside the Pack. Everything was absolutely perfect except for the fact that she was a gutless, spineless wimp. Her stomach reeling and her throat dry at the thought of drinking human blood. The vampires didn't seem to mind it. But, she didn't know a damn soul named Mikey and she sure as hell wasn't going to like it one bit. This wasn't a cereal commercial. And she could not hold herself to the lofty standards she'd forced Drew to adhere to. She had fangs. And a part of her was very much a hunter. But, her wolf side, and her human side were stronger than her vampire self.

Drew would understand and he wouldn't ever pressure her to do anything she didn't want to do. Nah, he really didn't need to. She was doing a good enough job of being her own judge and jury all by herself. She'd married into this crazy family of vampires. Not by ceremony or the exchange of rings but by the giving and taking of every part of herself. And when in Rome, she was expected to do as the Romans did. And that included doing something with the fangs in her head besides polishing them with her toothbrush twice a day.

The woods were dark. Highlighted by silvery beams of moonlight streaming through the trees. Tala didn't balk at the dark. The sound of distant wolf calls was music to her ears. Soothing to her soul. She was just going to take a walk until she gathered her courage. And then she'd go back to the bluffs and find someone willing to let her snack on their neck. Easy. Simple. No problem. She was absolutely certain her wolf had eaten worse in their lifetime.

The wolf burst through the low outcropping of trees and brush and veered off course, darting to the west instead of to the east to join the rest of the Pack. This part of the woods was familiar to him. Thick with the scent of prey, wolf, and of vampire. His keen sense of smell guided him in the direction he needed to go. He paid no heed to his human. The man, Grant, banging desperately on the inside of his skull. It was the night of the full moon and it belonged to the wolf, not the man.

The wolf had been trapped in the spirit world, in danger of losing the human housing his soul forever. He was free again. And he was going to enjoy the realness of the ground beneath his feet, the purity of the oxygen in his lungs, the burn of his muscles as he pushed them to the brink, and the taste of prey on his tongue. He bolted onto a clearing scenting the female wolf with his nose close to the ground. His human had forced him to her instead of joining the pack. And the spirit wolf agreed with the human inside of him. There was unfinished business between the two of them, the female and his male. And the wolf somehow instinctively knew this was where he was supposed to go and what he was supposed to be doing. Prey could wait. This, the shouting of his human's needs, could not.

Tala heard the rustle of leaves behind her. She spun on her heel and froze where she stood. Grant, or rather Grant's wolf, bolted into the narrow clearing and came to a stop at her feet. She almost collapsed from the joy of seeing him again. She'd thought the worst. And although it had only been a few days, to a man without his wolf, it might as well have been an eternity. Dropping to her knees in relief, her eyes flooded with tears, she reached out to him. Timidly, the wolf sniffed her fingers and licked the palm of her hand. "Brother Wolf," she said in the ancient language. "Give Grant the body you share and go peacefully to the spirit world till it is time for you to return again."

The wolf's muddy brown colored fur rippled. His body spasmed and there was the thick clumpy, gloppy sound of flesh reforming over bone. Bronzed flesh emerged from the heap of brown fur and Grant's human form began to take shape. Tala watched mesmerized by the change. It might not be so wonderful when the pain gripped you and you were held powerless as its prisoner. But, the magic, the beauty of the merging of souls and exchange of forms was truly awe inspiring to behold. Grant lay naked and dazed, blinking up at her with his dark eyes clouded by confusion and fear. And the dark part of herself that she had yet to fully become acquainted with flared to life with instinctive vengeance. He looked, and he smelled like prey. And before he had a chance to react, she was on him, driving her fangs deep in to his flesh, drinking deeply, swallowing the power and the magic, and the life from him in greedy gulps.

Grant swallowed back the scream of agony building in his throat. Tala overpowered him, pinning him beneath her with a strength he could not fight against. He deserved to die like this. In pain, bleeding his life into her in exchange for each and every drop of hers he'd spilled. His fingers balled into quivering, useless fists. And he battled for consciousness, wanting to feel every relentless pull of her harsh vengeance, the pain of it, of her fangs against his flesh.

Something was wrong, very wrong. The woods so clear and dazzling in the moonlight were suddenly bathed in the red glow of danger and the coppery smell of blood and cloying scent of death. The Great White Wolf changed direction leading the Pack and the brothers to the east away from the deer they'd been tracking. Drew pounded at his skull, banging against his mind for his freedom. The wolf was stronger than the man and the vampire trapped inside of him. Nudity was a vulnerability the Pack could not afford. And Drew, although he was a powerful man, would not be able to defend the Pack naked. He needed his wolf's sharp claws and teeth and the covering of white fur. If there were no danger, no death, no blood, the wolf would return the form over to him. But, the wolf was never wrong. And there was blood and the dark fist of death clenching its fingers around these woods.

Tala reveled in the taste of the blood on her tongue. The essence was thick and rich. Power sizzled through her body and fueled her depleted cells. There was a peace that came with drinking the very life force of another. And in this moment, reeling in the calm and of drinking, it wasn't Grant's limp body that she held in her arms, it wasn't prey she sought to kill, it was the joy, the blood and the almost drunken haze of sheer, absolute bliss she swallowed down mouthful after greedy mouthful.

Drew burst forth from his wolf's form. His nudity didn't bother him in the least. His primary concern was for Tala. She drank relentlessly from the man clutched in her arms. Killing him mouthful by mouthful, swallowing his life down. The law applied to all creatures. And Tala was no exception. Grant was closer to dying than Drew wanted to admit. There were no signs of a struggle. And for whatever reason, Grant had been willing to pay the ultimate price in retribution of his sins.

"Tala, stop. You're killing him. Grant doesn't deserve to die. Not like this," Drew said gently. He grasped her by the back of the neck and carefully eased her head up. If he moved too quickly or pulled too hard to break the suction she'd rip out Grant's throat and he'd bleed out what life he had left in him onto the ground. Grant's head rolled to the side, his eyes dull and glazed over, his breathing a series of labored pants. Drew did not want to share his gift with Grant. It wasn't that the man wasn't worthy of it. In offering his life he'd proven his worth. It was more to the point that Grant wasn't ready for it. He teetered between three worlds, the world of the wolf, the world of the spirit, and the world of the living. And the only reason his heart was still beating at all was because something was holding anchored here. Drew would not take whatever it was away from the man. Tear him from the reason he was still alive.

The wolf drove the Pack back. Snarling and growling defensively, protecting his daughter and the man practically dying in her arm. Grant was Pack and the pack master, alpha male protected what was his. Bristling his fur, the wolf dared anyone to defy him. The scent of blood and of death and of the vagabond wolf cast out agitated and stirred the predatory wolves to a frenzy of bared teeth and rippling power. No wolf made a move against him. And that was a good thing. The wolf was not a killer. But, he would kill to save the life as precious to him as his own daughter's. Grant was, if not by DNA, but by a deeper commitment of love, his son.

"Shit," Dane muttered. The brothers were skilled and well-practiced at handling themselves around the scent of blood. By this point, most of them were practically immune to the alluring scent. Practically, being the operative word. Still he pushed the brothers back. Guiding them away from the Pack and from the scene unfolding before their eyes. It was not for them to see or to judge. And quite frankly whatever was happening was none of their damn business.

"Good," Keene said loudly. "Saves me the trouble. The man deserves what he gets." He crossed his arms smugly over his chest and from his height, towering a head taller than Dane, he watched with satisfaction as Tala drained the life out of Grant. Keene recognized the stench of the man, of the wolf, the minute the wind blew the reek in his direction. Law or no law, he'd defend Tala with his life to spare her the justice of the sword, should Drew fail to coax her into withdrawing before she bled the man dry.

"Lance, Bryce, Angel, get him the fuck out of here," Dane barked. "All of you get, go home, now!" He dismissed the brothers with a wave of his hand and a hard glare. He pinned Keene with a sharp point with his index finger. "You and I will have a discussion about your attitude later." The brothers wasted no time beating feet out of the woods. Double-timing it as fast as their preternatural legs would carry them before he kicked their collective ass with his size fourteen boot.

Keene fell away from the main group, flanking the woods to double back to the edge of the clearing. He was no lover of death. He did not relish Tala the burden of the taking of another person's life, deserved or not. He was however, a lover of justice. And he wanted to see it delivered in full to anyone who deserved it. And for what he'd done, Grant deserved plenty.

Something clicked within Tala as she registered the soft sound of Drew's voice. He pulled her back from the dizzying buzz of bliss in her head and anchored her feet on solid ground again. She withdrew her fangs. Confused and dazed by the taste of blood on her tongue. Blinking she stared down at the pallor and the oozing wounds in Grant's neck. Slowly the real world came into focus and she gasped in horror at what she'd done. Grant was still, his eyes open, staring glazed and blankly into the other side. "Grant!" she shook him by the shoulders hoping to rouse him. "Grant!

"Grant!" Fumbling she felt for a pulse along Grant's neck. It was there, fluttering weakly. But, he was so still, so pale, lifeless and limp, his chest barely rising and falling with his shallow breaths. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit down. Blood welled to the surface of her flesh. Without thinking she pressed the wound to Grant's lips and forced her wrist between them, bleeding back into him what she'd taken so greedily. Her tears fell like a rain shower dripping on Grant's pale cheeks. He choked on her blood, gasping and swallowing as the first drops snaked down his throat. Tala cried in earnest, the sobs wracking her narrow shoulders. "What have I done?"

Drew eased Tala's wrist from Grant's lips. She'd bled enough into him. "Tala, Grant is going to be fine. He'll survive and wake up to be the same pain in the ass he's always been." Drew studied the pallor of Grant's skin. Already his color was improving, pinking up and the deep wounds she'd bitten, showing the first signs of healing. Luckily, even though Grant had been mostly human. He'd still had enough wolf in him to survive more than an ordinary human should have.

"Shouldn't he have more?" Tala asked, lifting her healed wrist to her lips for another painful bite. Grant did look better, his breathing easier, and his skin warmer.

"Tala, no. His path is that of the wolf, not that of a vampire. He'd most likely not appreciate nor desire more of your blood. Something else held him to this world. And it holds him here now. He is Pack. And it's time for the Pack to take him home." Drew lifted his face, hiding his amusement at Keene lurking in the shadows watching in abject fascination. "Keene, if you'd be so kind, please carry Grant to the wolves, place him in his bed, and watch over him, brother. Guard him with your life."

Keene had a few lessons yet to learn. And this simple service was the perfect opportunity for Drew to educate the man in the value of service, of positive regard for another living being, and in repentance.

Keene awkwardly scooped Grant up off the ground. Even with his vampire strength, the man weighed a ton. He rejected the idea of throwing the man over his shoulder and carrying him like a sack of potatoes through the woods. Maybe, once he was out of eyeshot, he would. But, probably not. The Great Father had a way of knowing things no man should know about another. And if he abused Grant in any way, Drew would know. And Keene was not a stupid man. Generally, he learned his lessons on the first go around and did not require a repeat.

Grant's blood flowed through her veins. Giving her much needed strength and vitality. She winced at the pained expression on his face. He faded in and out of consciousness. Healing from her blood, but a long way from healed. "Grant, thank you. I speak for the Pack when I say that all between us is forgiven." She brushed her hand across his fevered forehead. He was weak. So little wolf left in him now that she barely recognized the man she once regarded as a brother. "Take him back to the house. He should be with his family, home, where he belongs."

Grant had learned a hard lesson today. Humility. She heard the whispers of his mind melding with hers. The time for hard feelings was over. Grant needed to return to his own kind. For his sake and the sake of his wolf. It would be difficult both for him and the Pack to take him back. But, he'd bravely earned his place there. And she would make sure he got it.

It was time the Pack learned a few hard lessons as well. The past was over and done. The old ways were better off left on the shelf where they belonged. The future had come for them and become their present. And it was time for them to live and embrace it.

"Take care of Claire. Tell her I'll come for her," Grant mumbled. He was numb. Exhausted. The shift and sharing his blood had exacted a heavy toll on his body and his spirit. He'd given Tala more than he could spare and he'd spiraled too close to death, hanging onto life by a thread. Claire was the only thing that kept him breathing.

"We will. Who is she? Where can we find her?" Tala whispered.

"The woods. A cabin," Grant whispered before he drifted away on the wings of a dream.

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Tala asked anyone who was listening. Her father led the Pack away. The vampires were gone. And Keene stood, holding Grant in his arms, gently and carefully as one would a child who had fallen asleep.