Sharkbait Down Under Ch. 01-10

Ch. 1

Wicklow Mountains, Ireland
May 24, 1798

I checked the harness on the draft horse, making sure it was secure for the trip down the mountains. "Calm down, Robbie," I said as he fed the old mare a carrot. Moving back, I made sure the cart was in good shape in the dim light after sunrise. A full load of charcoal piled under a tarp, ready for market, and a breakdown would be catastrophic. Philip Corcoran had a job to do, and I was going to do it well.

"Are you sure?" I could hear my Mother's voice from inside the house, a benefit of the werewolf hearing I had.

"We need the money the charcoal will fetch at market. Our boy is thirteen, so he's too young to fight. If anyone else made the trip, either the Irish Rebels or the English would force him to join. The Pack needs the potatoes and medicines he'll bring back from the market." My father was a low Beta in the Pack, responsible for ensuring we had enough food and supplies to wait out the troubles that were coming. I was climbing into the seat on the wagon when he came down to see me.

"Philip, lad. Go straight to the market in Laragh, conduct your business, and come right back," he ordered me. "Do not speak to anyone about anything else; spies are everywhere."

"I will, Father." I took the reins, Robbie leading me down the road towards the village twenty miles away.

I could sense my brother and cousin as they ran alongside in the woods for the first mile, stopping at the narrow pass leading into our valley. The Irish people were ready to revolt, and Alpha Bracken was determined to avoid entanglement in such affairs. Our Pack lived in the mountains, felling timber, and making charcoal to trade while farming in the areas we could. The twenty men, twenty-eight women, and fourteen children of my Pack struggled to survive in a world gone mad.

The millennia-long struggle between France and England became a proxy war in Ireland. After France supported the American Revolution, the King called for volunteer militias to defend Ireland from the possibility of invasion. The Irish Volunteers turned into the Irish Patriot Party, and they used their power to push for greater political independence. Some reforms happened, although Catholics still could not hold offices.

The French Revolution changed everything. The liberal ideals of the Revolution, occurring in a Catholic country, led to the formation of the Society of United Irishmen seven years earlier. It brought together Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, and other dissenters to push democratic reforms and Catholic emancipation. We stayed out of it all, but we paid attention to what we heard in the villages.

War with France broke out in 1793, and the United Irishmen saw a chance to use French aid in an armed insurrection to break free of English rule. I'd heard speakers talk about the United Irishmen in previous trips to town; they boasted two hundred thousand members! I couldn't imagine that many people working together, and I thought they would be invincible.

None of it mattered to us; we were godless Paganists to them, worshipping the Moon Goddess.

I met no one on the roads, and I arrived at the market just after lunchtime. Delivering the charcoal, I took the money from it to buy the medicines. Every shilling left I used to buy sacks of potatoes. I had the load secured and was heading back out of town by three.

I'd barely made it a mile when I heard the sound of horses coming fast. Looking back, I could see the English Cavalry coming. Wanting no part of it or them, I pulled off the dirt trail into a clearing and waited for them to pass. Twenty horses stopped to rest, but two kept going. Peeling off from the others, they trotted towards me.

The lead horseman pulled up alongside my cart, while the second went to the back. "Name, boy," the soldier asked.

"Philip. Philip Corcoran," I said nervously.

The second man had thrown the tarp back, exposing the bags of potatoes. Drawing his sword, he thrust it through the pile a few times before cleaning it. The leader looked back at me and the small bag I had next to me on the bench. "What's in the bag?"

"Medicines and herbs, from the market," I said.

The soldier held his hand out, and I handed it over. "You have a lot of food and medicine here," he said. "Enough to supply a large camp."

"No, sir; it's for my family. We make charcoal up in the mountains."

"No family is this big, even in Ireland. No, boy. You're with the rebels." He drew his sword. "We've got a big United Irish camp hidden in these mountains, and you're going to lead us to them," he told me.

"I don't know anything about a rebel camp," I pleaded. "I'm just taking these back to my parents."

"You are, are you?" He rode around the wagon. "Then take me to them."

I could not do that; it was an Alpha order. No human was to set foot in our valley. The location of our Pack lands was a closely-held secret; there was only one pass through the mountains, and that entrance was covered with vegetation to hide it. Leading soldiers to our home was an unthinkable betrayal. At best, the English would draft us into military service. At worst, Pack members would die, and they would burn our homes. We wouldn't shift to fight, because the people would burn the mountains down if they knew werewolves lived there.

"No."

Almost instantly, a sword was at my throat. "What did you say, boy?"

"I said no. I will not help you."

"We'll see about that. Tie this rebel to that tree," the leader told the other soldier. More men approached; my hands were bound, the rope going over a high branch. The men pulled until I was suspended just higher than my toes could reach, leaving me swinging in the cold breeze. A knife cut away my shirt, and one of the soldiers approached with a whip. "Give him ten lashes to loosen his tongue," the leader said.

"Yes, sir." The soldier was old, his cheek badly scarred, his teeth rotten, and his disposition worse. "You're going to sing for me, boy." He stepped back and loosened the whip, swirling it around before sending it flying at my unprotected back.

CRACK! Pain exploded on my back as the whip cut through skin, setting me on fire. I screamed in pain, interrupted by the next CRACK as the second lash fell. After six, I couldn't catch my breath before the next scream tried to begin. I was sobbing uncontrollably as the tenth lash fell.

The leader walked over to where I was swinging in the wind. Staying clear of the blood that dripped down my ruined back onto my breeches, he grabbed my chin and spun me to face him. "You will take me to them, or you will die in agony," he said.

I couldn't betray my people. Gathering the blood and spit in my mouth, having bit my tongue in the lashing, I spit the mixture into his face. "Then I die," I said with all the bravado I could muster.

He let go and laughed as he wiped his face clean. "Oh, I like this one. The boy has spirit, and that makes it all the better when they break. Ten more lashes, and then we will see if the answer changes."

The new lashes crossed over the wounds from the previous, and there was no spot untouched on my back by the time the second round finished. I was praying for death by number sixteen. "Well?"

"Fuck you, you English prick."

The man with the whip hit me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me, then everything went black as pain exploded on my cheek.

Pain. Searing, agonizing pain was all I felt as I woke.

I could feel something moving under me, each sway and bump pulling at the scabs on my back, sending fresh jolts of pain to my head. I tried to open my eyes, but my left one wouldn't cooperate. It was dark, and I found myself in a crowded box carriage. It smelled of blood, fear, and death. "Ugh..."

"Don't move," a voice said as his hand came down to my neck. "They did a job on you, boy. Your back is a mess. My name's Lewis."

One attempt at lifting my head was enough to convince me he was right. "Philip. Where am I?"

"Prison transport heading to Belfast," the man said. "You and a dozen other rebels, all saved for a bog date with the hangman. What did you do?"

"Nothing. I'm innocent."

Laughter broke out around me until the guard banged on the side and told us to be quiet. "Son, we're all innocent. The King won't care about that little detail, though."

He was right about that. The English sent Lewis to the gallows on arrival, along with half of the men with me. They liked to make a show of punishments, thinking to intimidate the populace.

The Irish Rebellion was doomed before it started; informants got the leaders arrested, and the French reinforcements never landed. I later found out that pockets of resistance kept going for a few years, but the reprisals were brutal. The English soldiers killed prisoners, raped women, and wiped out entire families and villages.

I never did give up the location of my Pack, and only my age kept me from swinging at the end of a rope. I never got to say goodbye to my family, and they never knew what happened to me. In the end, I received a 'merciful' sentence; the English put on a prison ship, shackled below decks for a six-month voyage to the new penal colony on Australian territory. Half of the prisoners died in transit, and brutal discipline met any disobedience. The smell of vomit, feces, and urine was a constant; sleep was fitful, and not at all in heavy seas.

It made me wonder if I was the lucky one, after all.

I weighed barely a hundred pounds and had just turned fourteen when I was marched off the ship at the penal colony in Sydney Harbor.

Ch. 2

Sharkbait's POV
November 2033
Brisbane Airport, Australia

My wolf pushed forward, her tail wagging fiercely in my mind. I whispered a single word as I stood motionless, my body unsure what to do next. "Mate..."

Nicholas looked just as shocked as he stared at me. The bags he carried dropped to the ground as his entire body froze up. His eyes went to mine, and we lost ourselves in them. The mating pull snapped into place between us at that moment, and I could sense his wolf surging forward.

"IN THE CAR," Fiona yelled as she grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the limo.

Nicholas growled, his shift coming on as he saw me taken away. Ian reacted before he could shift in front of God and Country; grabbing him by the ears, he pulled his son down to his level. "Calm," he ordered.

I was growling at Fiona as she fought to get me to sit down. "Not here," she growled back while keeping her eyes from a direct challenge to my wolf. "Breathe. Your mate is not in danger, and this is not the place."

She was right. I sat back, focusing on my breathing, and pushing my wolf back. Nicholas was shoved into the limousine a moment later, his eyes searching for me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him next to me. I turned to him, my face going to his neck as his nose went to my neck. I couldn't get enough of his scent; it called to me, calmed me, and excited me. I could feel my canines pushing forward; my wolf wanted to mark him and make him mine forever.

From the way his lips were fastened to my neck, I knew he felt the same. I could feel his canines coming in, right before his touch left me.

Another second and we would claim each other.

"WAIT," I said as the door closed. I couldn't, no, I WOULDN'T give my neck up to a man who wasn't worthy of it. I didn't care how good he smelled, or how good he made me feel.

I needed to know who he was first.

I pushed him off me, shoving him into the corner of the bench.

Nicholas' wolf didn't want to wait. He shifted in the back seat, tearing his clothes off, his black wolf fighting to get to me. Ian grabbed him by the scruff, pushing him to the floor. "ENOUGH," Ian said as he let his full Beta dominance out.

It wasn't enough, and Nicholas continued to struggle. He turned his teeth towards his father, willing to spill blood to get free. I couldn't allow this to continue, or we'd tear this car up.

I let my inner dominance out. The Alpha Mantled wolf in me forced everyone in the car to submit to my will. It crashed into the Aussie wolves like a tsunami, washing away their ability to disobey. Ian fell back onto the seat, his eyes wide open, and his neck bared. Nicholas rolled onto his back before shifting back to his human form. I watched, amused and aroused, as he grabbed his torn shirt and covered himself with it. "Sit down and behave," I told them both.

They did, their eyes never leaving mine. "Fiona, please retrieve Dorothy and their luggage. She's probably wondering what the hell just happened."

"I am, too," Ian said.

"Of course, Vicki." She stepped back out, holding the door for Dorothy and Hammer to enter, then closed it until returning a few seconds later with the two suitcases and the backpack. She set the suitcases down and handed Nicholas his bag so he could change. I used the intercom to tell the driver we could leave.

Dorothy wasn't happy with her boy. "You drongo," she said as she smacked him in the back of the head. "Put that stiffy away! What were you thinking? You'd get nuddy, bend that Sheila over the boot, tear off her knickers, and root away on camera?"

I looked at her, then at Ian, as Nicholas pulled on some cargo shorts. "What did you just say?"

"I'm sorry, I forget you Yanks don't speak Aussie," Dorothy said. "I told him he was a fool that needed to get clothes on to cover his erection because he sure wasn't getting naked, bending you over the trunk of the limo, and screwing you in front of everyone at the airport."

Looking at his muscled chest, maybe that would be worth the arrest and deportation that would follow. It would make great reality television, but Linda wasn't here to film it. "Right, then. I'm sure you have questions."

"Who are you," Ian asked. "Both of you."

"I am Vicki Lawrence, Mantled Alpha Heir, and member of the Three Rivers Pack in Oregon. Fiona is a Pack Warrior and my bodyguard."

"What is an Alpha," Nicholas asked.

It was my turn to be shocked. How could these two be werewolves and not know what an Alpha was? "Your people are in a Pack?"

Ian asked for water, and I handed over a few bottles out of the cooler. He took a long drink, composing himself. "We organize by family units. The oldest male is responsible for the extended family living with or around them. My wife and son, my younger brother, and his family are my responsibility. We share a big home in Port Lincoln."

Nicholas had finished getting dressed and was staring at me with a mix of fear and lust. "You said I was your mate." I nodded. "We're not even friends yet. I want to be your friend and more; my wolf is going nuts in my head telling me you're my mate, though."

"We're more than friends," I told him. "Come here." He moved over next to me, and I slid into his lap. My wolf and I wanted to calm him, and contact was the best way to do that. I relaxed into his arms as the fear went away. "When the Moon Goddess created werewolves, she made them in pairs. One male and one female, searching for each other from the moment we come of age, the perfect match. Mates until death."

"We're mates?" He had his nose buried in my hair, as my hand moved under his shirt and over the eight-pack of a stomach he had. I could do laundry on those abs. "We are meant to be together."

"Yes. That feeling you had when you first smelled me? That is the mating pull. Our wolves reached out for each other; they've already started to bond, and our human side has to catch up." I snuggled into his arms, my wolf happy with the contact. "This is only the first part."

Dorothy turned to look at Ian. "Did that happen when we met?"

"No," he said. "I've never heard of this happening. I fell in love with you, but my wolf has never said anything."

We were going to have to start with the basics. I spent the next ten minutes teaching them about mates and the mating pull, then a rundown on Pack structure and leadership. Everything I told them was new to them.

"So, your wolf is dominant over mine since you are an Alpha," Nicholas said.

"Yes. Alpha blood wolves are dominant over all others, and Mantled Alphas are the strongest of all. The Alpha's dominance allows them to maintain order, enforce discipline, command obedience, and keep the Pack running harmoniously. A strong Alpha can have a Pack with hundreds of members."

Ian just shook his head at that. "We've found that things fall apart once we get more than twenty in a group. We lose the ability to link with each other, and the group splits up and moves apart."

"How many of you are there in Australia," I asked.

"Eighty-seven, total, fifty-six of them with wolves. There are ten groups total, all along the southern coast from here to Tasmania. We don't like the heat up north," Ian said with a grin.

Ten mini-Packs, with zero knowledge of what they are and what mates are. "And no werewolf has found his mate among your kind, or amongst the humans?"

"This mate stuff is all new to me," Ian said. "We all descended from a single man, who came to Sydney as a prisoner in 1799. The men marry human women, like Dorothy and I, or the females a human male."

"Do your wolves claim them? Bite them on the neck, like Nicholas was about to do with me?"

Ian nodded once. "My Great-great grandparents married each other. They were second cousins. They bit each other and lived. I don't know of any others." That made sense. In addition to potential inbreeding issues, the wolf would never agree unless the other was the mate. Why didn't Luna find mates for them?

"If we get bitten by a wolf, we die," Dorothy said. "It has always been that way. I have to be careful when they are playing as wolves, so I don't get an accidental bite."

"It's a crapshoot," I said. "It is possible to bite a human and turn them into a werewolf, but only half of them survive. We don't know why some make it, and others don't. We do know that a successful change requires an Alpha to be present; an Alpha can pull the wolf forward and calm it throughout the change. If you don't have an Alpha, it's unlikely the person survives."

"That's why I'm getting married now," Hammer said. "My bride, Susan, is a werewolf. After we return home, she's going to change me into a wolf." That shut them up. Their eyes showed how shocked they were; they thought it was a terrible idea. "I understand the risks, and I've made the decision."

Dorothy looked at her husband. "Could you?"

"I don't want to risk losing you, my love," he said. "You're everything I need."

He was probably right, but I knew that changing her would be a mistake. If she weren't his mate as a human, she wouldn't be his mate after the change. In this case, ignorance is bliss.

I could see we were getting close to the hotel. "Today is about Hammer and Susan, not me. Please don't say anything about Nicholas and I being mates. We have a lot to talk about and now isn't the time."

Ch. 3

June 1, 1803
Sydney, Australia

"Corcoran!" The guard yelled across the field, where a group of us were loading cut building stones onto a cart. "Get over here!"

I walked over as fast as the shackles on my ankles would allow, the two-foot chain making my stride shorter than a freeman. It was something I'd gotten used to in my five years as a convict at hard labor. Now eighteen years old, my back was a mass of scars from lashings old and new. I stopped five feet away from the soldier and stood at attention. "I'm Corcoran."

"Follow me." He turned and walked towards the Administration building, stopping at a desk where a Lieutenant was reading some papers.

I waited until he acknowledged me with a wave of his fingers. "Prisoner Philip Corcoran reporting, sir."

He didn't bother looking up as he wrote in a book. "The ship that arrived today is bringing in new prisoners, and the Governor is offering you parole to make room for them. This paper is your Ticket of Leave. Can you read?"