uncle and Max. Joey would be useless in a crisis situation; she was too girly and squeamish to cope. Uncle Hamish loved her and had supported her from the beginning, and Max was a good kid, loyal to the pack, which to him meant the Tates, Honor included. Too bad there was no way to get to either of them without attracting the wrong kind of attention. Honor couldn’t bring herself to leave Logan even for a few minutes, and it would take longer than that to find Hamish or Max. They could be anywhere in the territory. Logan would be too vulnerable without her.
And she was too vulnerable to keep standing out here in the open.
With a growl, Honor spun around and returned to the shack. Being cooped up inside while her wolf howled for action didn’t exactly top her list of pleasant ways to spend the day, but at least she’d be able to keep a close eye on Logan. Within the cramped confines of the single room, there wasn’t anything else to do.
Honor climbed onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Logan. She wanted him awake, but causing pain wasn’t how she wanted to see that happen. Resting one hand on his uninjured shoulder, she leaned back against the wall of the shack and prepared to wait.
Fifteen
The earsplitting screech of a barn owl jerked Honor out of a fitful doze. Boredom and stress had combined to weigh down her eyelids, and she’d found herself catnapping all afternoon. Every time she woke, her gaze flew straight to her mate, but Logan never stirred. For the last few hours, she had gradually begun shifting her mental state from concerned to slightly frantic. He should be awake by now.
The owl screeched again, the second call finally penetrating through Honor’s haze of preoccupation. Owls didn’t screech during the middle of the afternoon. They were nocturnal, sleeping during the day and not waking until dusk.
A panicked glance at the window had her leaping from the bed and swearing. While she’d been dozing, the day had slipped away. Dusk had fallen over the forest, and in minutes, the moon would begin to rise. As soon as it topped the trees, the Howl would begin. And if Honor wasn’t there, she’d be labeled a rogue and a coward. The entire pack would hunt her down. She had to get to the stone yard. Fast.
But what could she do about Logan? Damn it, leaving him would be a risk, but she couldn’t see any other choice. If she stayed, eventually the pack would find them, and then they’d both be in danger; if she left him here, at least the shack would provide some cover, and hopefully the Howl would keep the pack occupied and away from him.
She didn’t really have a choice. She would just have to pray that if she didn’t make it back to him, he would wake up before someone else found him.
With one last look at her injured mate, Honor exited the shack, stripped off her clothes, and shifted. Her gray form glinted briefly in the dying light, then bolted into the shadows of the tree trunks, and disappeared.
Honor reached the stone yard during that brief slice of darkness when the sun had fully set, but the moon had not yet risen from behind the cover of the trees. Still, her keen night vision allowed her to clearly see the figures, mostly remaining in their human forms, that milled around the clearing, waiting for the Howl to begin.
Howls held Lupine packs together. A Howl was a time to celebrate milestones, like births and matings, a chance to hunt together and revel in the magic that ran through every Lupine’s blood, and the moment when power passed from hand to hand. All formal challenges for rank were settled at a Howl, whether the combatants ranked at the bottom of the pack or the top. At Howls, alphas were made, and no able-bodied member of the White Paw Clan would be likely to miss one.
Especially not this one.
Pausing at the edge of the trees to catch her breath—and to muster her courage—Honor sent up a brief prayer to the Moon Goddess who had breathed life into the first of her kind.
As if in response, the first sliver of the pale moon rose above the dark expanse of the forest, but Honor knew better than to take that as a sign. The moon might be beautiful, but she could also be cold. One never knew which face she would decide to show.
The Lupines already in their furry forms yipped in excitement, and more of the ones still in skin began to remove their clothing. Using their distraction to add to her cover, Honor began to move toward the far side of the stone yard where the stump of an enormous ancient oak had served as a podium for generations of White Paw alphas. Tonight she would take her place on that platform; only the moon knew how long she would keep it.
She hugged the tree line, sticking to the shadows, as she circled closer. It wasn’t so much that she feared what would happen if she were seen, as that she wanted to take every opportunity to survey the scene and arm herself with a good grasp on the assembled wolves. Most of them meant her no direct harm, but those who did needed to be watched.
A group of males loitering near the path from the main house caught her attention right away. She could make out the faces of Pete Scott and Greg Carpenter easily enough, but a third man stood with his back to her, and it wasn’t until he took a step to his right that she spotted a fourth figure leaning arrogantly against a tree trunk. Darin Major—who apparently hadn’t given up his ambitions, in spite of his close acquaintance with her mate’s canine teeth—had his arms folded across his chest and an attitude of macho arrogance clinging to him like stale sweat.
Her lip curled involuntarily.
She had no doubt about her ability to defeat each one of those males in an honest challenge. As strong as they might be, she was no weakling, plus she had speed and agility on her side. Then there was the fact that not one of them had ever fought a real challenge before. The scuffles that had gained them their places in the pack as they reached adulthood had amounted to little more than a bullying of weaker males or showy wrestling matches that had more in common with pay-per-view cable than real battles for dominance. Honor should know; she had fought three real challenges just this week. She had won those, and she could win these.
Well, she could have, if any of the males had been inclined to fight fair. One at a time, none of them posed a challenge, but if they banded together, or demanded that she fight them in quick succession, she knew they would wear her down. They had strength in numbers, but Honor was on her own.
She looked away as she approached the oak stump. She could see her uncle and Max standing in front of it, almost as if they were saving her place. The thought almost made her smile. At least she knew she had two pack members on her side. Two was better than none.
Probably.
A flicker of movement drew her eyes to the far side of the stump, about halfway between it and the trees on the east side of the clearing. Joey stood there, slightly apart from a small group of females, some of the women she usually hung out with.
Okay, so maybe Honor had more than two pack members on her side. She didn’t think any of the females would try to kill her tonight, either. None of them believed she was strong enough to defeat Honor Tate. But more than that, Honor couldn’t imagine any of them being dumb enough to want to run the pack. Most of them realized what rough shape they were in, and they’d rather let someone else clean up the mess.
She didn’t blame a single one of them.
As she moved around behind the stump and paused, Honor took a moment to say her good-byes. Even if she survived the coming battle—and she was too much of a pragmatist to plan on that—she realized that life as she knew it was ending. Either she would die on this ceremonial ground, or she could emerge the alpha of the White Paw Clan. At that point it would be too late to wish things were different, that her life were different, that someone else would take responsibility. Once Honor became the alpha, there would be no looking back.
She waited for a moment, until she heard the crackling sound that signaled the huge bonfire had been lit in
