Pursuit of Happiness 05

That evening, the Alphas and their children, and the Beta pair, Lyssa and Emmett, climb into a couple of cars for the drive to the Ross den.

Randall pats Ariel's thigh. Lyssa reaches for Emmett's hand; he gives hers a squeeze. Security is tight as the Alphas and Betas would all be in one place.

The leaders of the packs greet one another and wait for Calvin Ross to appear. The Tucker Alphas are the last to arrive. Their Betas are back in the den, the female currently in estrus.

All heads turn as Calvin and Michael appear at the front door.

The guests begin to strip down.

Ariel, with her red hair, is easily spotted and Michael's eyes come to rest on her, then her daughter, Joanna. She would be of age soon.

Light brown hair, a lithe, athletic body, like her mother's. They were about the same size. Her breasts perhaps a little larger than average.

The Beta female's were quite a bit bigger and she had wider hips. There was a tattoo on her left breast of a grey wolf. She had the usual mark on her neck as well as tooth marks on the other breast. Hmm, interesting.

Calvin steps down from the front door and turns to the right, around the back of the house. The guests fall in behind Calvin and Michael, silently walking to a cleared area.

Lyssa briefly considers asking a question but decides that it can wait.

The rest of the Ross pack is arrayed beyond a pile of wood covered by a green cloth. Sabine's body is laid out upon the bier, draped in a green shroud. The outline of the figure is thin.

Lyssa contemplates what the poor woman must have endured before the end. A wasting disease, Joanna had said. Was she able to eat? Was she just so weak, for months? Or did it go more quickly? She hadn't really heard anything about it so it had probably started years ago.

Emmett takes her hand as Calvin takes a torch and approaches the bier. His hands shake as he tips the torch. He pauses, taking a deep breath.

Michael walks over and puts a hand on the haft of the torch. Calvin growls at him, pulling it away.

The other Alphas and Betas watch and wait.

Calvin moves to the head of the bier, and, with his free hand, flips the shroud up then leans over to kiss his mate's cold lips as he thrusts the flame into the wood.

The flames begin to spread as Lyssa examines the face and virtually bald head of Sabine Ross.

The others stand stiffly, silently, as the flames build.

Emmett feels another small hand creep into his. Looking down, he notices Joanna next to him. So he holds both Lyssa and Joanna's hands as the flames begin to lick at the shroud covering Sabine. Calvin stands by, stoically.

As the flames flare up, obscuring the body, a low moan goes up from the assembled wolves. Calvin howls.

It is a howl of pain and sorrow, despair and loss.

The rest of the Ross pack howl in response.

Lyssa mostly watches the other wolves. She couldn't bear to see the flames begin to eat away at flesh. The smell was enough. She wrinkles her nose, nauseated by the smell of burning flesh and hoping she wouldn't throw up.

She might have to smell, but she didn't have to watch, so she looks around at the others. The Alpha males she knew now by sight and she could now see who their mates were. The Betas and family members were standing nearby.

And, behind them, were the Ross pack members. Her eyes briefly light on a couple off to one side. They look familiar, for some reason. The female notices her looking, and gives a slight nod and a sad smile. Wait. That was it. Emmett had said they were in Ross range when she took him to the park for a run. Back when she was human and he was only a dog to her. Lyssa gives a slight nod in acknowledgment.

Many of the females and a goodly number of the males keep shooting glances at Ariel. More specifically, at her crotch.

Lyssa chances a look. Aha! She had shaved, her mound completely nude. It was doubtless an unusual thing for them, hell, shaving completely was fairly unusual for human women. She looks back at them, seeing confusion, interest on some, distaste on others. Ariel stands proudly beside Randall, ignoring the looks. Lyssa briefly wondered if she and Randall had enjoyed the experience.

Lyssa then returns to examining the others.

Aaron Severn's mate looked somewhat like him, light brown hair, although her eyes were a grey-blue in color. And, while all the female werewolves were athletic in build they were somewhat lean. The female Alpha of Severn was bulkier, with a larger frame but smaller breasts, although significantly smaller than her husband, who was on the larger size for a male.

William Macy's mate was almost his opposite. Light hair, blue eyes, lighter skin tone, but of the typical body size as the other females.

Emmett's cousin, Cecil, stood beside a petite female, medium brown hair, brown eyes. She notices Lyssa looking at her, nods, and smiles. The Gates Alpha pair were similar in appearance, dark brown hair, brown eyes, both tall.

And Lyssa begins to wonder how the women came to be Alphas. Was it because they were the children of Alphas or Betas? Was it something else? For that matter, what did it take to be a Beta's mate? She was certainly an unusual case.

A noise brings her back to the cremation. Part of the burning bier had collapsed and a few of the participants step back a bit.

Nothing remains that looks like Sabine Ross although the smell of burning flesh lingers.

When the fire burns down to embers the guests begin to leave. No words were spoken. There was no eulogy, no reminiscences, no talk of who or what she was. Unless they had been talking amongst themselves.

Emmett puts an arm around each of the females beside him and steers them back toward the cars. "That's it?"

"What more would you have us do? We know the Madam Alpha is dead. We were witness to the destruction of her body."

Cecil and his mate approach them. "Emmett!"

"Julia. How are you? How's Mason?"

"Well, Emmett. I can barely keep up with him anymore."

"Julia, this is my mate, Lyssa."

"Ah, Lyssa," Julia captures her hand, "it is good to meet the female who got our Emmett determined to mate." She closes and sniffs, then releases Lyssa's hand and strokes over the tattoo on her breast, smiling.

Lyssa gasps slightly at the touch; she still wasn't completely comfortable with the perceived informalities of werewolf meetings. "This is Emmett?" She gulps and nods.

"How do you like being a werewolf?"

"It's very interesting. Em's teaching me how to fight."

Cecil looks startled and Julia turns to him with a glare. "Emmett, is this how you care for your mate?"

"Julia! This is not our business."

"But, Cecil, fighting a male?"

Lyssa chuckles behind a hand. Emmett, Joanna, Cecil, and Julia look at her, startled by her amusement. "I'm sorry, but you all sound like you come straight out of the Victorian era. I can't be some defenseless, overprotected little female. I won't be. I'm a Beta."

Cecil recovers first. "Well, Emmett, you've a handful for a mate." He looks to his Alpha. "We need to go."

"It was good to meet you, Lyssa. Emmett. Joanna."

"Nice to meet you, Julia. Good evening, Cecil."

Cecil and Emmett clasp arms. "A sad occasion, Emmett. Hope to see you at a better one."

"Another time, Cecil. Julia." The Beta pair of the Gates pack hurry to the car they arrived in.

Emmett squeezes Lyssa and kisses her. Lyssa looks past his shoulder to Calvin Ross, standing, staring morosely at the embers and ashes, all that remains of his mate.

Joanna climbs into the car with Emmett and Lyssa for the return trip.

The ride is relatively quiet. Lyssa finally breaks the silence. "Does that happen every time one of you dies? Um, one of us?"

Emmett looks at her, the slip was telling. If she hadn't felt completely accepted before, recent events had given her the feeling of being an outsider. He wasn't sure what he could do to make her feel better.

He sighs. "The Alphas and Betas are called only to witness the passing of an Alpha. Other pack members are mourned by the pack itself."

Joanna's voice cracks. "I can't believe she's gone. She was so young."

Lyssa pulls Joanna against her, cradling her head to her shoulder, but can't come up with any words of comfort.

[Everyone is... cremated?]

[Yes. Anything remaining is then buried.] He pulls her against him, pulling Joanna closer as well. [Are you alright?]

Lyssa sighs. [Yeah. It's just so sad.]

They arrive back at the den.

Joanna slowly climbs the stairs to her room.

Emmett sweeps Lyssa up into his arms, kissing her. [I love you, Lyssa. Thank you for being my mate.] She feels it in his send, the warmth, the love.

She pulls herself more tightly to him, emotion so thick, she was unable to respond to him any other way.

All he got from her was a feeling of love and sadness.

He puts her into their bed, crawls in beside her, and holds her close.

***********

August

A little less than five weeks to Joanna's party.

Things were coming together rather nicely and she figured she would come in under budget. Food was the bulk of the cost. Meat was not inexpensive. Hunting by visiting wolves would be heavily restricted. Though they were guests, the Wyeth pack could not support the hunting of that many additional wolves.

Lyssa had requested a list of pack preferences from the Alphas. She shouldn't have been surprised at the prevalence of rare, red meat although ham and chicken did appear a couple of times.

She needed to talk to Simon about the storage of enough meat for 90 wolves for three days plus the additional ten, no, nine now, for Joanna's birthday party.

There was also the beer to consider. Most wolves had a fondness for ale. But she'd have to be careful about how much she allowed out. A drunken werewolf in the house would be trouble.

When it all got a little too overwhelming she'd go for a run, or go to the weight room, or grab Stephanie or Emmett or Erich to spar with.

Emmett follows her scent to the training room.

Lyssa was benchpressing 120 pounds.

He looks at the floor, recently repaired. When she first tried the weights, she had wanted to start with 20 pounds. He had coaxed her into trying 40. Thinking she really needed to exert herself, she had pushed hard enough to launch the weighted bar halfway across the room. It had put quite a dent in the floor.

"Could you give me another 10 pounds?"

He looks at his mate and licks his lips. Lyssa is lying back on the weight bench, wearing a red tank top and black shorts.

Two pups chase a third into the room, around it, then out the door.

She is grasping the bar, arms extended above her, looking at him. She had been sweating lightly, which increased her scent. Her legs were spread wide, planted around the bench, to stabilize the weight as she pushed it upward. He could see the tops of her thighs, smell her sex.

His cock fills rapidly and he growls low in his throat.

The two females sparring in the room pause briefly at the sound, then return to harrying each other.

Emmett pulls off his pants and sits at the end of the bench. Grabbing her knees, he slides her legs over his and pulls her crotch closer to his rigid manhood.

He rips the shorts from her hips, inhales deeply, and smiles. No panties.

The growl deepens as he places a large hand on her flat stomach and rubs the pad of his thumb across her folds and clitoris.

She sighs, still stretched out before him, hands still on the bar. [I smell you.]

Her smile gets broader, looking up into his chocolate brown eyes, seeing both lust and love there. [You're interrupting my exercise program.]

He continues to rub, running his thumb against her now weeping opening, spreading the slickness her body was creating for him, watching muscles jump in her thighs and pubic region when he concentrated on her sensitive bud. He looks into her dark brown eyes, sparkling now. [Exercise should be varied.]

[So, did you intend on joining me?] "Mmm."

[No. I intend on joining with you. C'mere.] His free hand takes hers off the bar and he pulls her upright while he continues to rub and stroke.

She was tipped toward him, arms above her head, leaking her womanly juices onto the bench.

When he releases her hands she locks her arms around his neck and nuzzles his chest, taking in his wild, virile, masculine scent. "Mmm."

His arm is around her to support the unusual position she was in.

She licks around one of his lightly haired aureoles and then sucks on his nipple. He jerks. "Luna." She flicks her tongue over his tight little nipple and then nips at it. "Aaah!" He'd never made a sound like that before. [Stop! I will not spew my seed like an adolescent.]

She runs a finger down his shoulder, across his collarbone, down his chest to flick that nipple with a fingernail. He jerks again. [Perhaps I should tie you to the bed and teach you some control.]

His hands move to her butt and he lifts her, poising her sodden pussy over his throbbing cock. [It's hard to keep control around you, mate.]

[Let me down and we'll see.] He lowers her, slowly, oh, so slowly. He felt her begin to surround him, knowing he'd have to go slowly at this point or he'd be done before he'd made three thrusts.

She closes her eyes as she feels all of him going in. She'd never been entered so slowly. She begins to tremble as she feels the head of his cock go deeper, the vein on the bottom moving along her walls.

It was taking too long. So she bounces, out of his hands, and slides completely down on him. He sucks in a deep breath and grabs her again. He growls in her ear. "Hold still." His chest heaves.

She releases a needy, "Emm..."

[Hold still or this will be over far more quickly than either of us would like.]

She wiggles slightly, "Yes, dear." She then leans against his chest, wrapping her arms around him and scratching his shoulders lightly.

[Not helping.]

She huffs then and sits still, until he masters himself.

He pulls her mouth to his and kisses her fiercely, pulling her tank top strap down, and exposing a breast topped with a crinkled tip. [Ah, sweetheart, what you do to me.]

The sparring females leave the room as he raises her up slightly and latches onto one of her nipples.

There's a slight spasming of her vaginal walls as he sucks and nibbles on that tightened tip. She tips her head back and moans.

She places her hands on his shoulders as he lowers her again and she helps him as he plunges into her inviting warmth.

He rotates his hips as she comes down, rubbing her clit deliciously. Closer, closer. Was he swelling?

He pulls her close and bites into her mating mark. "Oh, aahooOO!" It starts as a moan and ends in an approximation of a howl.

Her muscles clench around him and, as close as he already was, one more push upward finishes him, and he howls his completion.

Spent, he rests his forehead briefly against hers. He runs his hands up and down her arms. "Ah, Lyssa. Just don't get too hard on me. I like your softness, your curves." He kisses her forehead.

She looks up into those chocolate eyes. She considers explaining to him. She was inherently weaker than the others, the born wolven, and it bothered her.

Werewolves were strong, fast, agile and, over the course of time with them, their attitudes were rubbing off on her. They prized such qualities as strength and speed, as well as leadership and loyalty. As mate to the Wyeth Beta, she felt a need to measure up to their expectations.

Ariel regularly sparred with the males and beat almost all of them. She also meted out punishment, without having to go to Randall, particularly if it had to do with any of the females. So, she wanted to be able to do some of the same. She needed to get stronger, but she never intended on becoming a female bodybuilder.

She kisses her mate. "I won't."

It was a few days later that she hunted down Natalie.

Natalie looks up from the supplies. She and Wade were making sure they had enough material on hand for the gathering of unmated wolves.

Although the visiting wolves would be on their best behavior, they would still be uncomfortable off their ranges and in the presence of so many others from other packs. In attempting to maintain a tighter control over themselves, it would take less for one of them to snap.

It was expected that the Alphas would choose the guests carefully so as to minimize such an occurrence and the gatherings would be organized so that the unmated wolves would meet in stages, without being too crowded.

However, there would be fighting. Males might fight over a female. Conversely, females would sometimes fight for a male's preference. Males would fight to show off their strength and stamina. To show they were a worthy mate.

There would be blood, claw and toothmarks. Wounds to stitch.

It was not unknown for serious injuries to occur. Thankfully, only one death had been reported in the memory of the Alpha pair.

"Natalie, do you have a few minutes?"

Natalie glances at her mate and back. "Of course, Lyssa, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like to speak to you privately."

Natalie looks confused. "Uh, certainly, come with me."

They walk into a room between the Medical ward and the nursery, where birthing women would often come to have their pups. There was a nest area to one side, if the gravid female preferred to birth as a wolf, and a large bed for those who wished to give birth in human form.

Lyssa sits on the bed and sighs.

Natalie stands, uncomfortable. "Lyssa? Are you alright?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me what's wrong"

Lyssa leaves Natalie with no resolution and feels not at all reassured by her reassurances.

Calvin Ross has dropped into a state of melancholy since his mate's death. He shows no interest in sparring, or running in the woods.

He performs his duties, as Alpha, but was content to allow Michael to take over more of the day to day running of the pack.

Calvin's Beta, Sampson, tries to engage his Alpha, but has limited success. So, he feared for the pack. Each passing day has Calvin sinking deeper, as if he wished to follow his mate to the grave.

And, as for the Alpha heir? Michael Ross was certainly not his father. He started picking up some of the things that needed to be done, trying to wrest responsibilities from both him and his father. And was making a bit of a mess.

A dispute between a couple of the Omega females had been handled ham-handedly. Michael had neither the tact nor the grace of his father. He had apparently learned little at his father's side.

Michael had made it clear that Sampson would not be his choice of Beta.

The Ross pack was headed straight to hell.

Sampson considers asking to join another pack.

[OK. No blitzing me.]

[What?] The chestnut colored wolf woman stands, hands on hips, looking confused.

[You want to learn grappling and breaking holds?] She nods. [Then no mind hits. Got it?]

Alex was light-colored, almost golden, with dark legs, arms, and head.

[Oh. OK.]

He walks up to her. [We all know you can smack us but it won't help you learn. Now. Get out of this.] He simply grabs her wrists.

She looks up at his bemused expression. [Seriously?]

[Just do it.]

Looking up at him, like most of the males he was taller than she was, she counted to seven, flexed her arms, and broke the hold.

"Good."

"Simple. Oppose the thumbs."

"Alright, stand still." He walks up behind her, wraps his arms around her, and pulls her tightly against him.

"Alex, I don't know. I don't feel so good."

"Really? Oh..." He gasps as she becomes dead weight in his arms. His grip changes, to catch her.

She slithers out of his arms and drops to the ground.

...where she crouches and sweeps his legs out from under him as he overbalances.

"OOoff!"