The Dangers Facing Halfbreeds

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It wasn't the pup's fault they were born half wolf, so why did everyone act like it was such a big deal? 

At night, when she'd listen to him howl, she'd nearly want to wail back her disappointment. For it seemed they were not truly welcome anywhere, and her babies could sense it, though her folks doted on them.

Molly, ironically was the only one who treated them normally, and Chessa did like to take her naps with her as Molly purred. But the dogs...

As days passed quickly, she was seeing more and more of that man who had taken Luci, who'd named him The Hellhound, made him kill. She saw him rooting about the shed, saw him looking at her and her pups. She always carried them away up onto the deck, sitting on the edge protectively, keeping an eye on that man.



During a border fight, it happened.

Guider was ripping the life out of the rival pack's favorite daughter.  The retribution for that would affect the entire pack. He'd intervened. It had escalated.

It all came down to the fact that Guider was old and he was not.

And he acted his innocent part as the pack stood around in shock, though heaviness dragged his shoulders down. They did not know he'd been the one to do it. 

With his alpha the only obstacle to him changing this pack to a safe haven for his family, the one thing he would not do was touch Stryga. He wouldn't need to. 

Months later, during a hunt, she was caught underfoot, as he'd seen Annabella been those two times before. Only she could not get out and away in time.

She died of her injuries in the den.

The night was filled with mournful howls, whining from her grown pups. He could not bring himself to join the howling, just looking to her body, muted grief and triumph fighting in him.

For the very next morning, he was regarded as alpha.

The sudden shift in power was different, nearly overwhelming, but there was something in it that spoke to him– freedom. He had freedom at last.



Chessa jumped off her man's lap once the door was opened, and she lead her pups outside, only to stop them, dragging Dante back by his scruff as she saw the man approaching, the one with a sagging face, a long coat, and teeth-scarred hands.

"Pups, get back inside."

Everyone knew what he hung around for.

He wanted her pups. It looked like the dogs were not the only ones who recognized who her babies so much resembled.

Her hackles raised at him as her woman came to stand beside her, greeting the man.

Quinn as peeking out. "Quinn, back," she snapped.

It took a long while, too long, but her folks sent him on his way.

She did not let her pups out to play with Pexa's that day. She kept them inside, and stuck close to them. Her folks watched her with sympathetic eyes; she thought they knew. And they knew she knew, too.

Besides, Pexa always thought her pups played too roughly.

The next day, when she did allow them to go out, she kept close by them, laying down in a sunny spot as she watched them frolic and bite at each other; maybe they did play rough...

She recalled how frightening it had been when Luci and her had first begun to play, but now, she supposed it was a good thing that she was used to it to keep up with her babies, though they grew bigger and bigger every day. Dante was already up to her shoulders, Quinn not far behind. Chessa's one ear did not stand up very straight, and she was smaller, but kept up with them just as well. Dante was the mediator between them.

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