Observo la lista que tengo delante. Una lista de lobos que forman parte del tributo que exijo a las manadas más débiles para mantener los tratados que tengo con ellas. En realidad, no necesito guerreros ni hembras. Pero esto los mantiene bajo mi control y temerosos. Ya no necesito exigir los tributos. Los patéticos Alfas simplemente los envían. La mayoría de los lobos que llegan están deseando estar aquí. Saben que mi entrenamiento de guerrero es solo superado por el de la Guardia Real. A veces llegan lobos que no quieren estar aquí. Suelen ser aquellos a quienes sus alfas les han dado un ultimátum. Transfiéranse o se vuelvan rebeldes. Si causan demasiados problemas, su tiempo aquí es corto. No aceptaré nada más que la sumisión total. Normalmente, unos pocos castigos rápidos se encargan de eso o la amenaza de una muerte prematura.
Me da una reputación ante otras manadas, de las que me encanta criar. Significa que recibo lobos con el mayor potencial, lo que fortalece aún más a mi manada.
La mayoría de las manadas que envían lobos ya entrenan a sus guerreros a un buen nivel, tanto hembras como machos, pero frunzo el ceño ante el último nombre de la lista.
Un lobo que viene de la manada lunar de Cravan.
El nombre le sienta bien a la manada. Al menos con el Alfa actual al mando. Su manada es probablemente la más débil. La única que no entrena a sus lobas. Entonces, ¿por qué el Alfa me envía una?
I never turn a she-wolf away. Sometimes, with the right guiding hand, they can be as strong as a male wolf. Sometimes stronger.
But Alpha Conrad Stone likes to keep his females weak and submissive. Whilst I demand full submission it’s in a different way. I want my wolves to be the best version of themselves that they can be, male or female.
Granted, sometimes I have to be harsh to do it, but that is the way of a true and strong alpha.
I look up from the list when I hear my phone ping. A text message from my beta, Joshua.
6 Tributes were collected. 1 may be an issue. Now heading back.
I look at the list and sigh. It doesn’t take Einstein to guess which one is going to be a problem.
I stare at the name on the sheet. Ember James. I wonder what she had done because Conrad Stone never sends me any females.
I spend the rest of the afternoon watching my wolves training.
Every wolf in my pack trains. From the pups when they start school, to the older wolves.
For the pups, it’s mostly improving fitness and stamina with games and sports. For the older wolves, it’s making sure they remain fit and supple.
Proper warrior training starts when the pups turn thirteen. We split them into age and ability.
All of them try hard to impress me when they know I’m watching. A word of praise or encouragement from me makes all the difference. The same as a harsh word for any infraction puts them in their place. Sometimes it’s more than a word, but this rarely happens. They all know the penalty for disobedience.
After spending time watching my wolves, I shift and go for a run. I insist that every person in my pack lets their wolf run at least every other day if not every day.
It keeps the human and wolf sides in balance.
Most of my punishments involve keeping the offenders in wolf form or human form. It means that I keep the more severe punishments for the more severe infractions.
Currently, there are no such punishments in effect, but when new pack members join, I usually find that some are required to ensure that the new members follow my pack law. I do not tolerate disobedience. They need to learn this early on.
I’ve been running for about an hour when Joshua contacts me via the pack-link. It means he’s close.
“We’ll be arriving in around an hour.”
I acknowledge him and head back to the pack house to shower and change.
I always receive all new tributes when they arrive.
I’ll look them over and decide their best placement in the pack. I also need to see their wolves. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing their wolf.
I’m standing outside the pack house when the minibus arrives. I stand at the top of the steps dressed in combat trousers and heavy black boots. My chest is bare, showing off my tattoos and scars.
I wear my scars proudly. They show that unlike some Alphas; I am happy to fight beside my warriors. A good Alpha always leads from the front. Those that don’t are cowards. Like the cowards that send me tributes each year. If they stood up to me and said no, I would respect them more, but they don’t.
I fold my arms across my chest as my beta steps out of the bus. The tributes follow close behind.
“Present yourselves to your new Alpha,” he demands.
They line up in front of me. Three males and three females.
I see immediately which one is from the Cravan Moon pack.
All the others stand straight looking at me, but avoiding eye contact. Proud but nonchallenging. Both males and females have toned muscles. Not to the standard of my own warriors, but that will come.
The female, Ember James, is tiny compared to the others. She’s supposed to be twenty years old but looks more like a juvenile. She stands with her shoulders sagging, as she stares at the floor. She is skin and bone, carrying barely any muscle. The dress she wears does nothing to hide the fact that she looks half-starved. Her blonde hair hangs limply at her shoulders. She looks broken. This female is no troublemaker. It doesn’t look like she has a rebellious bone in her body. She’s no warrior either. One of my young juvenile pups could take her down. The scent of fear is coming off of her in waves.
I scan the tributes, ready for the next stage of my inspection. I can make no exceptions. Wolves who join my pack must be brave, strong and fearless.
“Strip and shift,” I command.
Only then does the young waif look up. Shock is evident on her face. She wasn’t expecting this.
Her eyes are a stunning shade of blue, like the ocean. If she took some pride in her appearance, she would look beautiful, even with her tiny stature.
I don’t understand why she is surprised at my command. The Alphas know what I expect and should inform the tributes which they send. It appears that her Alpha was remiss in this duty, but I’m hardly surprised, especially if he wants rid of her.
The other tributes strip off quickly. Begin to shift. I can tell they let their wolves out regularly. I can see from their eyes that although they are in wolf form, their human side still maintains a certain amount of control. When a wolf takes full control, the eyes are pitch black, but the eyes remain the same colour, perhaps a shade or two darker if the human side is in control.
By the time the other five have shifted, the small female has only just shed her clothes.
I sigh and glare at her. Showing my impatience.
When she begins to shift, it’s painful to watch. The shift isn’t fluid bones crack and reshape slowly. This only usually occurs the first few times we shift. The more we shift, the easier it becomes, which makes me think she has barely shifted since the first time. It would certainly explain her reticence to remove her clothes in front of others.
Gime de dolor hasta que termina el cambio. Entonces, solo puedo mirarla fijamente, un poco sorprendido.
No sólo porque el lobo es pequeño, sino porque su pelaje de color miel es opaco y sin vida.
El lobo levanta la cabeza y me mira fijamente. Me mira fijamente a los ojos. Un desafío.
—Ember James, controla a tu lobo —gruño.
Los ojos del pequeño lobo son completamente negros. No hay rastro alguno de los ojos azules de Ember James.
Abre la boca y curva su labio superior hacia atrás en un gruñido.
¿Este perro mestizo realmente me está desafiando?
Mis huesos se reacomodan al moverme. Tarda segundos. Mi ropa se desgarra, pero necesito lidiar con este inconveniente ya.
Mi lobo es unas cuatro veces más grande que el pequeño que tengo delante. Al igual que su contraparte humana, tiene muy poca masa. Eso no le impide chasquear los dientes y gruñirme. Si no fuera tan irrespetuoso, me parecería gracioso.
Mi lobo se lanza hacia adelante y lo dejo. Normalmente le arrancaría la garganta al retador, pero no lo hace.
Lo agarra por el pescuezo y lo sacude, como haría una loba madre cuando enseña respeto a sus cachorros. Luego lo tira al suelo.
Aterriza con un golpe sordo en el suelo. Aturdida por el impacto y porque probablemente su cerebro aún le tiembla el cerebro por la sacudida que acaba de recibir.
“Consigue un collar de plata y sujeta a este perro”.
Gruño a través del enlace mental.
Dos de mis guerreros experimentados vienen corriendo con el artículo requerido y un trozo de cadena.
Me doy la vuelta. No sé si me molesta más que el perro se haya atrevido a desafiarme o que mi lobo haya decidido dejarlo vivir.
Miro al resto de los tributos, todavía en forma de lobo y mostrando sus cuellos en señal de sumisión.
“Cambia”, ordeno.
Todos se mueven con fluidez y se visten.
“Mi gamma les mostrará sus habitaciones, luego podrán ir al comedor y comer”.
Asiento con la cabeza hacia los guerreros.
—Encadenadlo. Mañana decidiré qué hacer con él —gruño.
Cojo unos pantalones cortos del cubículo junto a la entrada. Siempre tengo repuestos ahí para esta eventualidad.
Joshua corre a mi lado.
“¿Crees que eso es prudente?”, pregunta, mirando hacia atrás al perro que está siendo arrastrado hacia el poste de castigo.
Lo miro fijamente.
“¿Me estás cuestionando, Beta?”
Nunca me dirijo a Joshua de esta manera a menos que esté enojado, y ahora mismo estoy más que enojado.
Joshua rápidamente me muestra su garganta.
—No, Alfa, es que no ha comido nada desde que la recogimos. No estoy segura de cuándo comió por última vez.
Aprieto la mandíbula. Esto no debería ser mi problema. Ella no debería ser mi problema, pero hasta que hable con su Alfa y organice su regreso, lo es.
Como mi lobo no está pidiendo su sangre, tengo que hacer algo.
—Dale un poco de carne a la loba. Se quedará ahí hasta que hable con su Alfa —gruño antes de irrumpir en la manada.
