Missing Ch. 01-10

Bonnie McDonald's POV

Dublin Pack Ceremonial Grounds, Ireland

June 21, 1992

"Alpha, may I present the winners of the Warrior Challenge." Beta Finucane said as he stood before the five of us. The assembled Pack members let out a roar as the Alpha and Luna applauded us. I was at the left end of the line, a smile plastered on my face that wouldn't go away. I still couldn't believe I'd won in my first year of eligibility.

Alpha James Garland walked forward with Luna Siobhan at his side. The Alpha pair were in their late forties and had ruled over the Dublin Pack for the past fifteen years. James was tall and broad-shouldered, while Siobhan was short and heavily pregnant. Their two younger sons and one daughter watched the ceremony with the rest of the Pack leadership. The Alpha pair came to a halt in front of us. We followed Beta Finucane to a knee and bared our necks to them. The three-hundred-plus adult members of the Dublin Pack did the same. "Rise, Victorious Warriors of Dublin," the Alpha commanded in a loud voice. We stood while the remainder of the Pack stayed down. "You have competed with skill and honor, and it makes me proud to have you in our Pack. I have every confidence you will represent our Pack well in the Werewolf Games next month."

The Werewolf Games were the Olympics of our world. Created after World War Two by the American and European Werewolf Councils, it brought together the finest warriors in the world every four years. This year the games were at the Baxter Pack lands in central Maine. Each Pack could send up to five Pack members to compete against the best werewolf warriors in our world. To be eligible to compete, you had to be of age (18 or above) and not a current Pack Alpha or Luna. Fights between Alphas had too many potential consequences, after all.

The Alpha pair followed the Beta to award the medals and checks to the winners. "Winner of the Unarmed Human Combat competition, Beta O'Malley." The crowd applauded as the Alpha shook his hand and gave him the thousand-pound check before Luna Siobhan placed the medal around his thick neck. Brian O'Malley was a fireplug of a man in his late twenties, just under six feet tall but over two hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle. I swore the medal hung from his skull because the man had no neck. I'd watched his matches; his boxing was good, but his ground game was awesome. His nickname was Boa because he'd squeeze the life out of you.

"Winner of the Wolf Form Competition, Alpha Heir Niall Garland." His father's pride in his son and heir couldn't have shown brighter as he shook his hand. His mother was crying as she placed the medal around his neck. Niall was twenty-two years old and nearly the size of his father. He was taller than me in wolf form and three times my body weight. He'd been brutally efficient in taking down challengers, with most of his submissions coming in the first thirty seconds of the fights.

"Winner of the Classical Armed Combat Competition for the fifth consecutive competition, Beta George McCoy." That was no shock. Beta McCoy dominated Archery and Knife-Throwing competitions while narrowly winning the Fencing tournament. In that competition, he could compete into his sixties.

"Winner of the Armed Combat Competition for the third consecutive time, Warrior Steven Keane." I'd also competed in this competition, coming in fourth in Handgun and seventh in Rifle. Steven had won both events easily.

The Pack women let out a loud cheer when the Alpha pair moved to me. "Winner of the Tracker Competition, the youngest competitor in our field, Tracker Bonnie McDonald." Trackers were a different kind of wolf. Blessed by the Goddess with a sensitive nose, intelligence, and the endurance to run for days, they could hunt down anyone or anything. Tracking and Armed Combat were the only competitions where size and strength didn't matter. I'd scored the second-highest in the Scent Tracking competition and won the cross-country race.

The Alpha shook my hand and gave me my winner's check, and the Luna raised herself to kiss my cheek after placing the medal around my neck. Since I was almost six feet tall and still growing, the Luna only came up to my collarbone, even in her heels. "Very impressive, Bonnie. We expect great things from you."

"Thank you, Alpha," I said.

"I hope you have your passport. Won't this be your first trip outside of Ireland?"

"I have it, Alpha, and yes, it will be. I'm looking forward to testing myself against the best."

"You'll find them in Maine, I'm sure." He turned to look at his Alpha Heir. "Ensure you protect Bonnie on this trip. A female competitor of her age is going to attract a lot of attention."

"I will, Father." He gave me a wink, one I didn't appreciate. Neill was unmated, full of himself, and a horn dog who would fuck anything of age with a pulse. He'd hit on me the night of my birthday after letting out a sigh of relief that I wasn't his mate. My blood wasn't good enough for him, and his Luna would be more than an abandoned half-breed dropped off at a Belfast orphanage. I knew that my mother was human, but I had no idea who my werewolf father was; I'd never felt a family bond with anyone in this Pack or other Irish packs.

Once a Pack member scented me in the orphanage nursery, Council law required the Pack to take me in or kill me. Leaving a werewolf child outside a Pack structure was far too dangerous. The Alphas found a childless couple to claim me, and I'd been in the Pack since I was six months old. I'd been teased mercilessly in the Pack due to my heritage and height. I was five feet tall by my tenth birthday, thin and uncoordinated. When the other girls filled out, I kept getting taller. I had the body of a long-distance runner, not a swimsuit model. Tracking was my way to Pack rank and respect, so I'd worked hard to get to this point.

The Alpha gestured for the Pack to rise. "LET US FEAST IN THEIR HONOR!" The Pack let out a deafening roar, and the five of us waved to the crowd. As the Alpha pair walked back to the Pack House, the rest of the Pack converged on us.

I hugged and thanked those who came to me, almost all of whom were young or female. Werewolf society remained highly patriarchal, especially in the warrior ranks. Women were allowed to become warriors but rarely advanced to the higher Pack rankings.

It wasn't that women couldn't be Betas. The Dublin Pack had six female Betas, all the mates of strong males who had fought for their positions. With our smaller size and lesser strength, females couldn't win the challenges in wolf form required to become Betas on our own.

A month later, I stood next to a van in front of the Pack House, my luggage already loaded. "Make us proud," Alpha James said to the five winners and Beta Finucane, plus the four mates who were traveling to watch their men compete. "I wish I could be there, but your Luna could give birth any day now."

"We will bring the Pack honor," Alpha Heir Niall replied. Although he was the second-youngest to me in our group, he outranked all the Betas.

July 9^th, 1992

We loaded up, and an Omega drove us to the airport.

My first plane ride was thrilling but uncomfortable. My long legs were up against the seatback, and Beta George kept taking over the armrest and my space. I found it difficult to sleep over the engine noise, so I read and listened to music with the Sony Discman I'd bought with my prize money. I was tired by the time we landed in LaGuardia.

Werewolves from France and Russia joined us for our flight to Bangor. None were my mate, and all were much older than me. My Pack members kept the unmated away from me for the short connecting flight.

The Bangor Pack hosts sent two ten-passenger vans to pick us up just before ten in the morning. As the junior wolf in the group, I ended up in the back row, falling asleep against the bags stacked next to me on the seat. I woke when the van stopped for a security check. We drove for another twenty minutes before we reached the Pack House area.

No Pack could house the influx of people for this game, but the Baxter Pack did their best with tents and trailers. Packs close enough to drive brought RVs and parked them nearby. Instead of heading to the tent city, an Omega led me to a hallway on the second floor of the Pack House. "Only nine females are competing this year, and only you are unmated," she informed me. "Luna McInnis is placing you with the unmated females of our Pack."

Baxter Pack housing was typical for our kind. A large Pack House dominated the compound. The top floor held the private quarters for the Alpha and Senior Beta in one wing and Pack Offices in the other. The second floor had more Beta quarters and the Unmated Female room on one side, Unmated Male housing on the other. The main floor contained the Pack dining area, kitchen, conference rooms, and recreation rooms. The expansive basement held the Safe Room, Armory, gymnasium, and storage.

Mated pairs got scattered in homes and cabins around the property or nearby towns. When Pack Members came of age, they could move into the Pack House or stay with their parents. My roommates, Anna and Lois, were in their twenties and had never found their mates. After a brief introduction, I showered and fell asleep until Anna woke me for the Opening Dinner. "Are you excited?"

"I'm jet-lagged," I said as I pulled my dress over my body. The silver dress had thin straps and clung to my athletic body. Since I was so tall, I was wearing it with matching sandals.

My dark red hair was a mess. Lois volunteered to braid it, doing a complicated braid around each side of my head that finished in a single long braid down to the middle of my back. "Perfect," she said a few minutes later. "You look like a Warrior Princess. Maybe our mates are here already!"

I rolled my eyes. "And maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt."

Anna put her hands on her hips. "You're a certified badass, Bonnie! The ONLY available contestant in the entire Games! Don't lose hope like Lois here."

"We'll see. I've never competed against anyone who was not in my Pack."

"We better get going," Anna said. She led us out of the room and down to the Dining Room. The Baxter Pack had decorated it for the event, with a long table along one side where the Alphas and their mates would sit. Round tables filled the room, each labeled with the name of a Pack. I took a deep sniff for my mate; nothing. Anna and Lois hid their disappointment as they left for their other duties.

Ch. 2

"Tracker Bonnie McDonald, Dublin Pack," I said to the young female at the welcome table.

She found my nametag and handed it to me. "Table twenty-eight, near the back on the far right." I pinned the tag to my dress and turned to go in.

Beta Finucane and his mate Nancy provided an escort through the dozens of single males who wanted to introduce themselves. Only the call to seats by the Council Chairman allowed us to make it back to the table. I mind-linked to Nancy as we sat down. "Don't those men know I'm not their mate?"

"You're a unicorn out here," Nancy replied. "It's rare for women to compete at all, but doing so at eighteen and unmated? They are curious."

"And horny. I could smell the desire." We stopped linking as the festivities began. The introductions took a while, starting with the North American and European Councils, then the Alphas and Lunas, and finally the winners from the Games in 1988. The Games were both an individual and Pack competition; points accrued in each of the five competitive areas based on finish order. The prize money would be a big help for college; a Gold Medal was worth $25,000, a Silver $15,000, and a Bronze $10,000. Looking around the room, I just hoped I didn't embarrass myself.

As soon as the Opening Comment finished, a parade of Baxter wolves brought in the first dinner course. The other Dublin Pack wolves were far more confident than me, and they were trading barbs and talking smack with friends at the other tables during any lulls in the meal. I was busy looking at the schedule, which looked to be quite full.

You'd think running something like this would be easy, but even with only five wolves per Pack competing, the schedule showed how much of a mess it was. There were almost three hundred Werewolf Packs between North America and European councils. Thankfully, many Packs didn't have the funds or the people to send a full complement, if they sent anyone at all. It still left almost a thousand competitors in the room and the overflow tent.

This Friday night banquet was the only time we would all eat together; the rest of the week would be buffet-style with meal periods. I heard from the adjacent table that there had been three matings thus far, a high number for an event like this. "Shouldn't there be more," I asked Nancy?

"If there were separate Men's and Women's competitions, then yes. Sadly, most of the Alphas see nothing wrong with almost all the competitors being male. You are the only unmated female. The matings were likely with Baxter Pack members or females from local Packs here assisting with the Games."

"Why not make the change?"

It was her mate who answered that. "Because a mated female is a loss to the Pack she comes from," Beta Finucane said. "In almost all cases, the female goes to the male's Pack. That's why Alpha James was upset with your win, though he couldn't show it. In his mind, he put all the work into raising and training you, and you might not return from the Games to help his Pack."

It was sexist and selfish, but I could see why they would do this. It was the same reason Alphas sent male wolves to other Packs to seek their mates; they would gain Pack members when they returned. Naturally, the Alphas would insist on reciprocal rights, but it only worked for Packs allied together. "It seems so inefficient. No wonder we have wolves who never find their mates."

Nancy agreed. "It is. Too many Alphas look to females, even ones of high rank, as good only for the ABC's." I looked at her quizzically. "Allies, Babies, and Cooking." I snorted at the thought, but it rang true. Pack members often reminded me of how 'lucky' I was that the Alphas took me in at all. "The Council should do something like they do with Betas and Alphas, but the Packs don't want to spend the money to send all their unmated."

I looked back at the schedule of events that started Saturday morning and ended Saturday night. There were five overall competitions in the same five areas we'd won.

Warrior Steven Keane's schedule had the most detail. Modern Armed Combat used a scoring system with targets and stopwatches, and a decent range could accommodate twenty-five shooters at a time. Two hundred-plus competitors would compete in Target Pistol tomorrow and Target Rifle on Monday. The top half of scorers would advance to Combat Pistol on Tuesday and Wednesday and Long-Range Rifle on Thursday and Friday. Total points would determine the winner. To make it fair, everyone used the same ammunition, and all the pistols and rifles were identical.

Beta George McCoy and I had the next-most-complicated schedules. For Classical Armed Combat, Archery was on Saturday, Knife Throwing on Sunday. Once again, the top half of competitors would move through to the double-elimination Fencing competition the remainder of the week.

The Trackers had Scent Identification and Single Tracking competitions tomorrow and Sunday. Monday would be the big Cross-Country Run. The first event was scored, the second all or nothing, and the run awarded points based on your order of finish and time behind. The top 32 competitors would continue to single-elimination Tracker vs. Tracker contests until the winners were determined.

The Unarmed and Wolf Combat competition is brutal and bloody. Werewolf Combat matches are like Thunderdome: two wolves go in, and one walks out. The wolves fought until knockout, submission, or your second threw in the towel.

The competitors were seeded based on previous competitions. Since there were around two hundred in each event, the top fighters got 'first-round byes' in the single-elimination tournaments. At most, the top two would have eight bouts in eight days, less if your opponent withdrew because he couldn't heal in time. A dozen Packs had their medical staffs here to deal with the wounded.

The meal flew by, soon followed by drinks and a bonfire outside. I barely had a moment to myself as the single males tried to entice me into their arms and their beds. I had the Beta pair escort me back to my room at eleven, right as the rowdies were heading out on a late-night run through the woods. "I need my sleep," I told my disappointed suitors.

At nine AM, I reported to the grassed area behind the Pack House for the first event, scent identification. It was a simple event in concept but difficult to do well. There were twenty-five stations, each with a cloth soaked in scents and kept in a plastic bag. When the buzzer went, you had five seconds to take a sniff and fifty-five seconds to identify everything you could about it. The first bag had urine. Simple, right? Nope. It was deer urine, specifically from a mature female whitetail deer who was pregnant. To get all the points, you had to specify the species, sex, age, and the pregnancy. In other stations, the scent you had to find was covered with perfumes or other odors, making you sift through to find what you needed. Correct answers gained points while incorrect answers lost points.

I finished before lunchtime, ten points behind the leader and in 23^rd place. Beta Brian earned a bye in the unarmed combat competition based on his last Games, while Heir Niall's bout was at two o'clock. Niall was unranked since he wasn't of age in the previous Games. He got matched against the 58^th ranked wolf, a heavily-muscled older Beta from a Pack in Michigan. I quickly realized how hard-earned experience would beat youthful exuberance as I watched the bout. Niall was going for a quick submission, constantly trying for the neck, and the Beta played defense. Each time the Alpha heir lunged in for the kill, he'd take teeth to the shoulders or a claw to the side before the two disengaged. The wounds and the blood loss slowed him down, and the fight shifted the next instant. Niall lunged in, overbalanced and on shaky front legs, and the Beta put his big shoulder into his lower chest. Knocked on his back, teeth around his neck, he had no choice but to submit. The Beta let him go, then howled in victory before shifting and walking out.

Beta Finucane stopped the videotape recorder he was using to record the bouts for his Alpha as the medical personnel rushed into the ring. If Heir Niall looked bad in wolf form, it was worse after he shifted. "Well, that was better than I expected," he said.

"What do you mean," I asked. "It was a close fight."

"The Beta was toying with the rookie. Niall was trying to finish it quickly to get to the next fight, but the Beta was patient and wore him down. He knows there aren't points for speed in these bouts, and now our Alpha Heir understands that brute strength isn't enough. At this level, everyone can fight. The smart wolves learn from the best; that's the whole point of being here. With him out in the first round, it will be a miracle if our Pack can medal." Niall would have to learn while watching on television. Medics carried him out on a stretcher, and he spent the next three days healing in the Pack Clinic.

I watched some pistol shooting competitions, observing how the best shooters practiced and positioned themselves. The crush of people hitting on me slowed, so I spent some time with the few other female competitors as well as more experienced trackers. I knew I wasn't going to medal, but I was determined to learn.