The Chosen Wolf Fae

Prologue

Timber worried about losing his wolf mate. He knew the danger as soon as Melita suddenly began having her pups way too far away from the den. It would still be easier to deliver their brood as pups than as the fae. He needed to get her there as soon as he could.

She stopped again, panting, circling. As a fae wolf shifter, he wanted to turn into his fae and carry her to the den, but he couldn’t when she was about to give birth.

She lay down, panting, and pushed out the first pup, a male. Timber smiled, removed the birthing sack, and cut the umbilical cord. He licked the pup to stimulate him, nuzzling him to her teat, where he could get sustenance and grow strong before the others arrived.

They were maybe a mile from the sacred rune stones of Arton, near the forest of Merwood, and the Glen of Senton and Lily Brooke.

Once Melita had the last of her puppies, she would nurse them, then he would shift and take them to the den, keeping them warm until they settled.

For four hours, Melita struggled to finish birthing. The final pup was another male. There were two females and three males, a good number of new pups to help lead the pack in the future. With a rival wolf fae pack nearby, they needed to maintain their own reinforcements for future conflicts.

Once Melita was up and walking, slowly though, he shifted and gathered all the pups in his arms, warming them, snuggling with them, loving them. “We have a beautiful family. I’m so proud of you, Melita.”

She didn’t make a sound; she just stumbled along as a wolf, looking wearier with every step she took. He desperately had to get her and the pups to the den. Even though they had a home, it was too far to reach for now. The den would have to do.

The bright full moon seemed even brighter this evening, eerily so as they reached the sacred wolf runes, built by some ancient wolf fae pack, so it was said.

Shimmering moonlight sparkled off the blues, greens, pinks, silver, and gold crystals embedded in the thirty-foot-tall runestones.

The brilliance of the light on the crystals made them appear even more magical than before.

He tried to move Melita along, but she slowed down even more. “Melita,” he said, fearing he would lose her before they could reach the den.

But once she reached the inner circle of the standing stones, she lay down by the one filled with more blue quartz than the other. It seemed to glow even more, and he realized she hadn’t birthed the last pup. It could take hours to birth a whole brood, so he wasn’t terribly surprised.

Timber sat beside her, holding onto the bundle of sleeping pups, waiting for her to give birth, praying the last one would be all right and they would still reach the den soon.

But once she birthed him and he set the other pups at her teats to keep them warm, then helped the last male out of its sack, the little male wasn’t thriving.

Melita pushed the pup with her nose and licked him, trying to revive him. He lay beside her, exhausted, unable to move.

Timber tried to revive the last male, warming him and getting him to feed while the others happily suckled their momma’s teats.

The male pup was barely breathing, cold to the touch, and wouldn’t make it. “It’s of no use, Melita. He will stay here and join our kind who have passed to the great beyond.”

With a terrible sadness gripping him, he left the pup by the blue stone, where the wolf goddesses who ruled over the rune stones would care for him.

Melita nuzzled her son one last time, and Timber did the same, then carried the rest of the pups to safety, where they would raise them with their pack.

Moon Gazer, the wolf goddess of the moon and protector of the rune stones, watched as the mated wolves left the circle and carried their litter of wolf pups into the forest.

Most times, a pup that couldn’t thrive would perish. They had to be strong to survive among wolves and to fight encroaching packs. They faced other dangers in the fae world as well. A weak wolf would always be at risk of being prey.

The white-furred wolf pup was like the moon, she thought.

A gift to her to send to the heavens. But she took the wee pup in her hands, warmed him, spoke healing chants over him, and he stirred.

So did her heart. She cast a spell to create a momma’s wolf milk formula in a small tube that simulated the mother’s teat.

It could help him thrive, but he would have to work hard to prove he could survive alone, a lone wolf without a pack.

Star Gazer watched as her twin sister cared for the little male wolf pup. She knew Moon Gazer had done so because of the call of the brilliant moon that night. It had been over a hundred years since either of them had tried to save a pup destined for the heavens and been successful.

She almost wished she had been the one to find the little one and give him a chance at life. But he would be a moon wolf, and Moon Gazer would help him as much as she could within reason to see that he had a chance at life.

But three months later, in the dark, when the young wolf called Stone for his stalwart nature, his fear of naught, and curiosity galore was sleeping, the moon was new, hidden chiefly from the night sky, bringing out Star Gazer's delightful glittering stars across the black sky.

And there, in an odd set of circumstances, a strange phenomenon occurred.

Wolf mates from another pack, not Stone’s original family, struggled to reach their den, just like his parents had.

A coincidence, or something more mystical—fate?

Even the goddesses didn’t know everything about the world they lived in.

When the parents realized the female pup wouldn’t make it, they left her by the most shimmering gold runestone.

This was Star Gazer's turn to help a pup out, and she was thrilled. After the mother and father wolf left with their brood of four pups, Star Gazer quickly did what her sister had done with Stone. She revived, warmed, fed, and watched over her. She named her Rune, where she’d been left, so forlorn and helpless.

As Rune grew older in her own little Glen of Lily Brooke, apart from Stone’s Glen of Senton, where the two never met, she was just as inquisitive and spunky as Stone.

But living alone still meant they were more at risk until they were full-grown wolves.

Even then, having a pack was better for all the wolves concerned.

Rune pounced on piles of fallen leaves in the fall, burrowed into the snow, making her own little den in the winter underneath a giant boulder, leaped at butterflies fluttering about in the spring, ate the sweet berries erupting, and in summer, she loved to fish in her pond and take cool dips in the water.

She often chased bunnies and dug her nose in their holes, but it was more of a fun activity for her than anything.

Moon Gazer joined Star Gazer. “Both pups are doing well.”

“Maybe they should meet.” Star Gazer desperately wanted the two to be friends, to protect each other’s backs in times of danger, and to learn more about playfighting and defending themselves.

“In their own time. They’re loners. They don’t know how to interact with other wolves. They will have to do this on their own.”

Moon Gazer was right, but Star Gazer still wished she could nudge them in the right direction.

Truly, their job was done. The wolf pups would have to learn to live on their own, two special wolves that the wolf goddesses loved so much, to the heavens and back.

Rune loved to wander and explore, and when she was a year old, she saw the strangest sight in another glen.

A wolf larger than her sniffed the air; the male of white snow was catching fish in a pond.

She knew he was like her, though her fur was golden and she was more petite.

She’d seen her own reflection in the ponds and ice when the ponds were iced over.

She was curious about him. She’d never seen another wolf like her.

For three days, she returned to observe him while she hid in the bracken. Then suddenly, the wind shifted, and he must have gotten a whiff of her scent.

He rushed at her, snarling and growling. Her fur stood up on end, and her hackles raised. She didn’t growl menacingly at him but stood her ground. Maybe he felt this was his territory, but she wandered wherever she wanted.

He bit her cheek when his aggressive behavior didn’t get him the reaction he wanted.

Not hard, but she winced and instantly retaliated.

She bit his nose—hard. He squeaked and ran off.

She would not be cowed even by a bigger male wolf.

Then she returned to the Glen of Lily Brooke to fish in her pond, where her fish were bigger.

Stone had been so startled to see a female wolf encroach on his territory that he’d tried to make a stand. To show her this was his land—a natural instinct for wolves. But the minx bit him hard on the nose, and that hurt.

Despite liking his solitude, he had to learn where she lived.

After two days of searching for her scent, which had been carried on the breeze and was hard to follow, he found her fishing in a pond in a different glen. Her fish were even bigger than his!

He thought he would chase her off and take over the larger pond, but when she saw him and raised her tail, her golden hair fluffed to the max, he changed his mind.

He swore his nose still hurt from when she had bitten him!