Brother Wolf

Prologue: Brother Wolf

The view from the rocky outcrop of Wolf's Pointe was almost enough to calm my troubled mind. The moon was visible in the sky, and the setting sun painted a backdrop filled with pastel shades of pink and orange. The sky belongs to all wolves, I thought with a smile. How many times had my parents and I sung out across the night from this very spot?

I took the final puff from the ornate formal pipe that my deceased mother had fashioned for me. The last of the embers glowed brighter for a moment. The antler bowl that held them was crafted from my first successful elk hunt. My fingers fit comfortably into the grooves that hinted at wolves.

The heat from the sun-warmed stone was fading, telling me it was time to go. I savored this final moment alone, still trying to clear my head after my talk with my old Auntie concerning my birth. I tried, unsuccessfully, to let go of the distant past and consider the future before me.

My future took root when I accepted my new name, Brother-to-all-Wolves. It was given to me in a vision by my spirit guide, the Spirit of the Wolf itself. My future solidified with my adoption of Tammy, a spunky thirteen-year-old, as an honorary member of my tribe, and as my sister.

While I shared my tribe with her, Tammy unexpectedly returned the favor in an unusual way.

Tammy's love for all things werewolf had inspired her to create a virtual community she named The Wolfpack Micro-Nation. She planned on using this platform to expound her desire to stop any kind of abuse. She was dispirited by the violence depicted against mates and lower-class omegas in the werewolf stories she loved to read. My new sister vowed to do something that would create a positive impact on people who had experienced abuse.

As the self-proclaimed queen of her organization, she christened me Alpha King, making me co-leader of her Wolfpack micro-nation. I had no idea at the time where such a simple play-title would take me.

The first time Tammy saw me on two legs instead of four, she called me by what I was- a werewolf. Her face was alight at the possibility I could be her mate, love her forever, bite her to heal her.

"A thousand bites I would give you," I had whispered to her, "if I thought even one would heal your cancer."

Never a mate, for she was still a child in my eyes. At thirteen, she was old enough for romantic dreams but too young for an adult relationship. Yet I did love her, in my way, from that very first moment. I called her Sister-to-all-Wolves, a name to match my own, despite the fact she was utterly human. When I dealt with the public, I often referred to children as a little brother or little sister. With her, it was different.

And she was dying.

My muscle-bound friend Lone Wolf, the first werewolf  I met outside my family, let her ride on his broad furred back as he and I climbed the mountain as wolves. Our friends joined us, running by our side. This was her dream, to run as one with a wolf pack. The stories she read called it a Full Moon Run, and the moon shone brightly that night.

Once we reached the summit, where I now sat, the magic had continued.

The woods had been full of wolves I had never met; werewolves, created from being bitten, instead of being a born werewolf like me. They had come, answering the call from the Spirit of the Wolf, ready to learn about what they were. They had a desire to connect with others like themselves, joining together to form Spirit Wolf's worldly pack.

Sister loved them all, accepted them all. She took their pain and suffering at the hands of bad leaders personally. She looked out on the gathered werewolves as if they were already part of her pack, or rather, our pack.

Sister witnessed the reality of abuse for the first time, screeching for the release of a feral werewolf that had been brought in chains. She had railed at those who abused their packs, touching their hearts, shaming them more thoroughly with her honest human emotions than any words I could say as their king.

"Teach us to celebrate life, as you promised," Sister had pleaded with me, her face stained from tears after realizing the truth of the world and how much suffering her wolves endured.

I led her in a Wolf Dance, a special type of dance after the custom of my mother's people. As a war dance, it expressed our desire to fight against avoidable suffering. Our Wolf Dance was also a way to celebrate our passion for a life that embraced both wolf and man. It was a dance that allowed those who had experienced abuse to express their pain, proclaim their stance against what caused it, and to celebrate their new life without it.

Sister sent me to finish the magical night with a hunt. I had led our newly gathered pack to go hunting as wolves. For most of the werewolves who had come, it was their first time living as pure wolves, if only for a night. I brought back meat from my kill so Sister could share in my hunt.

And Sister, sharing a tent with me the night I returned, shared with me the grief in her heart for the things, including the love of a mate and children, that she would never have. These events took a lot out of her, strength she didn't have to spare anymore. I knew she would choose to spend every last iota of her reserves for what she had experienced here.

I had listened to her human howl; a thank you to her beautiful wolves. And they answered her, their fledgling songs filling the night, a fitting lullaby for their Alpha Queen, the Sister of my heart.

I smiled gently as I put away my pipe. Wolf's Pointe would always be a special place now. How could I come here and not think of Sister? I would never have found a way to unite all of those varied werewolves without her and her virtual micro-nation. Sighing softly, I got up to head down the mountain, where friends and family waited for me.

Waiting half-way down the mountain was my first challenge as king of the werewolves.

The wolf I had mutilated during his recent challenge to me, and whom I had named my omega, got up to follow me down the mountain as I passed him. He had bitten men merely to claim their wives. He had tried to claim my cousin, a foolish move on his part. His nether region had been severely damaged when I raked my claws deep into that tender area during our fight, as punishment for his plans.

His home and old pack were going to be the first stop in my life-long journey as the leader of Spirit Wolf's earthly pack. I would use Sister's title of Alpha King to help the bitten werewolves of the world. From what I had seen during the gathering, they desperately needed guidance.

Shifting to four legs didn't change the pain in my soul. While Sister kept up the fight against her cancer, both she and I knew in our hearts that her time was limited. To accept Sister's impending death from the cancer I could smell as a wolf was no easier on four legs than it was on two.