Chapter 2
TWO
VIVIENNE
“Your uncle, you say?” Father MacKaity stepped forward. His brow was wrinkled but he held one hand out to the stranger to shake, despite his obvious confusion.
“Yes, his name was Carter Jamison. Oh—is that him?”
The stranger had dropped his voice now that the thunder had died. He was looking towards the casket at the center of the room.
“Wow—he really does look like my old man,” he murmured. “I mean, how he looked before he died.”
“And who was your old man, er, father?” Father MacKaity asked.
“Daniel Jamison,” the stranger said promptly.
“And you are?” Father MacKaity continued to probe.
“Oh, I’m Korwyn Jamison,” the stranger said. “But I usually go by Kor.”
He was wearing a hooded raincoat but now he threw back the hood, revealing a tousled head of golden-brown hair that was almost curly. He had large brown eyes, a firm jaw, and a straight nose.
I estimated that he couldn’t be more than twenty-five—twenty-seven on the outside. But was he really the son of Carter’s estranged brother?
The rest of the Pack seemed to have the same doubts.
“What is this bullshit?” Harris Murdoch demanded, swaggering up to the stranger—who was a whole head taller than him, I noted. “Who are you boy and how dare you stake a claim on the Pack leadership?” he growled.
The man’s face changed and suddenly I wondered if he might be closer to thirty. He drew himself up and stared down at Harris grimly.
“I never heard he was the Pack Leader,” he said. “But if he was and he left no other heirs then yes—I’ll take his place.”
“The hell you will!” Harris shouted, going red in the face. “I’m the next Pack Leader!”
Korwyn Jamison arched an eyebrow.
“Oh? So you were related to him?”
“Well, no,” Harris had to admit.
“Then he must have designated you as his heir,” Korwyn said.
“No, he didn’t, but that doesn’t matter!” Harris blustered.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Korwyn smiled politely, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’re not related in any way to the late Pack Leader and he didn’t designate you as his heir, then how are you going to take his place?”
“Through the Alpha Challenge, of course!” Harris snarled.
“Now, now, Harris—let’s all just take a breath, shall we?” Father MacKaity said soothingly. “We don’t even know if this stranger is telling the truth about being related to our late Pack Leader.”
“Oh, that’s not hard to prove,” Korwyn said easily.
He slipped off his raincoat and began unbuttoning his shirt.
A moment later he pulled it open, revealing a broad, muscular chest. And there—on his left pec, directly over his heart—was the Jamison family crest—the Mark that all males of the Jamison line are born with.
I traced it with my eyes—the dark lines on his tan skin—the wolf’s head howling at the crescent moon with a star just above it. Carter’s Mark had been on his back, but it didn’t really matter where the Mark showed up as long as you could see it.
There was a collective gasp as the entire funeral parlor saw the crest on Korwyn’s chest and then—after a shocked moment of silence—people all began talking at once.
“That doesn’t mean anything! It’s a lie—a fake!” Harris shouted angrily.
“Now, now, I think we all need to calm down,” Father MacKaity said.
“It can’t be, can it? Pack Leader Carter didn’t have any relatives, did he?” someone else murmured.
“I dunno—I think I heard he had a younger brother,” another voice answered. “A half-brother.”
“Look!” Korwyn’s voice rose above the babble, and all eyes turned to him. “I’ll prove my Mark is natural,” he said.
And, shedding his shirt and coat completely, he strode over to the casket.
As he neared Carter’s dead body, the mark over his heart began to glow. By the time he reached the casket and was standing directly beside the corpse, it looked as though the wolf’s head, and the moon and star had been outlined by golden fire.
“See?” Korwyn said, turning to face the room. “Blood calls to blood. Even in death, my uncle proclaims me his heir.”
There was a collective gasp and even Harris Murdoch was struck silent.
I knew why the Mark on the young man’s chest glowed—he was right, it was blood calling to blood. It’s one of the reasons that it is forbidden to embalm a Pack Leader. For his blood—no matter how decayed or degraded—is capable of showing the next in his line of succession.
In other words, his true heir.
It was Harris who broke the silence, of course.
“This can’t be!” he shouted. “We can’t let an untried boy take over the Pack Leadership!”
“I’m twenty-nine—hardly a boy,” Korwyn said, frowning slightly.
“Not even thirty yet!” Harris sneered. “And you think you can come in here—a stranger—and lead our Pack? I don’t think so.” He stalked over to glare up at Korwyn. “Maybe I’d better take you out back and teach you a lesson about respect, boy.”
“Now, now, Harris—let the Pack Elders have a moment to think on it,” Father MacKaity begged. “The Council of Wisdom will settle this, I’m sure.”
Indeed, the older men of the Pack were already murmuring amongst themselves. There were four of them on The Council of Wisdom and in the past, they’d only existed to rubber-stamp anything Carter wanted. But now that he was gone, they would have to decide on their own what was best for the Pack.
I saw them huddle together, all of them taking turns peering over their bony shoulders at Harris and Korwyn.
I wondered what they would decide. Harris wasn’t much liked in our little community—he was a bully and a blowhard.
But he was also the strongest Alpha in the Pack and everyone feared to cross him.
On the other hand, Korwyn was a complete stranger to us and would no doubt be considered too young to bear the responsibility of running the pack, though Carter himself had been no more than thirty when he took over from his own uncle, who had died without a son to be his heir.
Still, Korwyn bore the Mark of the Jamison family—he had the crest, and it was glowing even now as Carter’s dead blood called out to his living heir and caused the Mark to light up. How could the Council of Wisdom deny his claim?
All around me, people were speculating in whispers.
“They can’t give it to him—he’s too young,” I heard someone say.
“Yes, but he’s got the Mark. And it’s glowing,” another murmured.
“Harris will make them all wish they were dead if they give the Pack Leadership to that young pup,” someone else said. “Besides, he’s a stranger. How can he lead a pack he doesn’t even know?”
At last, the four old men seemed to reach a consensus because they nodded and came to stand by Korwyn, who was still beside the casket, causing his Mark to glow with golden fire.
“Good evening, Mr. Jamison,” Elder Leary, the head of the Council said, nodding at him formally. “The Council acknowledges your claim to the Pack Leadership—”
“What?” Harris erupted. “You fucking idiots! You can’t just—”
“However,” Elder Leary went on in a loud voice, frowning at Harris. “We cannot, in good conscience, simply hand you the leadership of a Pack whose members you do not even know.”
Korwyn frowned.
“I can get to know them. You can see that my claim is undisputable.” He nodded at the glowing Mark on his chest.
“Yes, we see that. As I said, we acknowledge your claim, but we cannot simply hand you the leadership of our Pack,” Elder Leary said. “However, we can give you the opportunity to earn it.”
“Earn it? How?” Korwyn asked.
Elder Leary puffed up his chest importantly.
“It is our judgment that you may stay here and enter the Alpha Challenge in two weeks’ time. If, at that time, you prevail over all the other Alphas, we will grant you the leadership of the Pack. Until then, you will be a guest in our town—nothing more.”
Korwyn’s mouth twisted.
“So I have to fight for what should be legally mine?”
“That is the judgment of the Council, yes.” Elder Leary nodded sternly.
I wondered if the young man was going to explode with anger or start shouting like Harris Murdoch had. However, he simply nodded his head.
“Very well,” he said. “I accept the ruling of the Council. I’ll stay here and get to know everyone and in two weeks, I’ll enter the Alpha Challenge and prove by strength as well as blood, that I am the rightful heir and the new Pack Leader.”
“Good luck finding any place to stay,” Harris sneered. He raised his voice. “I want to put everyone on notice right now—whoever offers this upstart pup a place to lay his head will officially be on my shit list once I’m the Pack Leader!”
A murmur ran through the crowd and people began backing away. No one, it seemed, dared to make Harris Murdoch angry.
No one but me.
I looked at the young man—looked at his broad shoulders and golden skin…his strong back and muscular arms—and thought that maybe he might have a chance. Maybe he could beat Harris—if he was lucky.
If we were both lucky, because if he didn’t beat the other Alpha, I would be paying the price. Harris had already said he intended to marry me, take my property and money, and breed me every night, whether I wanted him to or not. That sounded like Hell on Earth to me.
I had to take a chance.
“He can stay with me,” I said, and though I didn’t speak very loudly, everyone in the funeral parlor fell silent and every eye was on me at once.
“What did you say?” Harris Murdoch demanded, glaring at me.
“I said that Korwyn can stay at Wolverton Manor,” I said, raising my voice. “I refuse to let the kin of my late husband sleep in the cold,” I added, lifting my chin. “The laws of Pack hospitality forbid it.”
Which was true enough—at least I had Pack Law to fall back on for my decision.
“Well, thank you.” Korwyn nodded at me graciously. “I’ll be pleased to accept your offer…?”
“Vivienne,” I said, giving him my name, though I still hadn’t raised my veil. “My name is Vivienne Jamison—I was the wife of your late uncle. Welcome home, Korwyn.”
There was another murmured gasp as the Pack listened to me acknowledge the family connection between Carter and Korwyn.
I might not have much power in this town, but as the wife of the late Pack Leader, I did still have considerable status.
And by using my status to give Korwyn’s claims legitimacy, I was officially lending him my support—which meant a great deal.
“Thank you, Vivienne.” Korwyn came forward to take my hand in his. He bent and kissed the back of my fingers, and I felt a strange shiver go through me. My nipples were suddenly tight, and I felt a throbbing between my thighs. What was going on?
Before I could figure it out, Harris Murdoch was shoving between us, breaking the connection.
“The pup can’t stay with her!” he snarled. “He’ll have his cock in her before the night is through!”
But this time he seemed to have gone too far.
I might have failed my husband in producing any heirs for him, but my chastity had never been questioned.
Indeed, I got the impression that most of the townsfolk thought I was something of a cold fish—“Ice Queen” I had heard myself called, more than once—and there had been whispers of my nearly non-existent Heat Cycles.
It was as though they thought my supposed sexual frigidity was what kept me barren.
With a reputation like that, no one was very willing to suppose I was inviting Korwyn into my home to seduce him. There were murmurs of disapproval and Father MacKaity actually shook his finger at Harris Murdoch.
“Harris, please!” he exclaimed. “You can’t say such things! This young man is the nephew of Lady Vivienne’s late husband!”
“That doesn’t matter,” Harris muttered angrily.
“Of course it does!” Father MacKaity exclaimed.
“We all know that Lady Vivienne is a Moon Widow—she is too old to be remarried and will spend the rest of her days grieving her husband’s death.
She would never engage in carnal activities with a younger man in that way—that would be breaking one of the Unbreakable Laws of our Pack! ”
“Just because she’s an old bitch, doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to fuck,” Harris snarled. “What if she comes into a Heat Cycle while he’s up there with her?”
“I haven’t had a Cycle in the past fourteen months—not that it’s any of your business,” I said, glaring at him through my veil. “I’m simply offering Carter’s heir a place to stay until he can beat you at the Challenge.”
Harris’s face turned almost puce with rage and I knew I had gone too far. But I didn’t care anymore—I had already chosen a side and I wasn’t backing down now.
“Stand at my side, Korwyn,” I said, nodding at him with dignity. I might not have much in this town, but I had my status. I couldn’t leave the funeral early—but I could end it early—if I did it the right way.
I lifted my head regally and straightened my shoulders as I addressed the room.
“I want to thank you all for coming to Carter’s funeral—I know it would have meant a great deal to him,” I said. “However, I think it’s time we all went home. The rain will be making the roads slippery, and I know Carter wouldn’t have wanted anyone to get hurt staying late to honor him.”
Actually, this wasn’t true at all. Carter wouldn’t have given a damn if someone got hurt and probably would have wanted everyone to stay until midnight saying what a great Pack Leader he had been.
But I didn’t care about that. My late husband was dead, and I was finished honoring the man who had stolen my life.
“Well, I suppose given the time and the weather,” Father MacKaity began, looking around nervously.
“Thank you, Father,” I said, nodding at him, just as though he had agreed with me. “And thank you for the lovely service. I know Carter would have been very grateful for all your kind words.”
Father MacKaity puffed up at once.
“Oh, well…he was a fine Pack Leader. It was my pleasure,” he said, nodding and smiling.
“Thank you. Come, Korwyn,” I said to the man at my side—just as though I’d known him my whole life. “Let’s get you settled in Wolverton Manor.”
Then, without any acknowledgement of the people staring at us and whispering behind their hands, I swept out of the funeral home with my head held high.
I might have made a poor choice, but I didn’t care. I would literally rather be dead than married to Harris Murdoch. I just prayed to the Moon Goddess that the young man at my side could beat him.
Otherwise, my life would soon be a living Hell.