“Wyatt, Romulus is waiting for you downstairs,” said Cody, a member of his staff.

He frowned. The grizzled old one-legged veteran of many Wolf merc operations rarely showed up these days. When he did, it was not good. Wyatt hurried; he did not dare keep Romulus waiting.

The older lycan was helping himself to a shot of whiskey from the bar.

“Ah, Wyatt. I took the liberty of telling everyone to clear out. It’s just you and me.”

Wyatt bowed his head at the senior alpha. Though he could easily beat the crippled old man in a fight, he still treated him with respect. The Lupercal Council of wise female alphas governed their kind. However, if there were a supreme alpha male leader Romulus would fill that position. He was in his midnineties.

He lost his right leg fighting the Nazis in occupied France. His prosthetic leg had improved in the last couple years. He moved with the grace of an athletic man in his fifties. Alpha blood. It was a shame. His intended mate along with his alpha twin sons had been killed during the war. A loss so great he never sought out other possible mates.

Wyatt eyed the locket with his wife’s photo, which Romulus wore on his lapel. He kept it on him at all times. He never shared it with anyone. It had been by chance that Wyatt at age twelve had found it on the ground after he was taken on his first hunt. He shifted and took a quick peak. Seconds later the big alpha threw him to the ground and sank his teeth in a non-lethal hold around his throat. Romulus had glared at the scared boy, grabbed it and hooked it back around his necklace that he wore when a wolf. He grunted thanks.

Would he ever find a human mate that meant that much? Not that it was easy finding mates. They were called wolf maidens or in a non-flattering term breeders. These were the only women who could mate with an alpha and produce alpha offspring. These human women bore a wolf paw print on their skin on the left side of their hipbone. Wyatt poured himself a drink. “Sir, I know why you are here.”

Romulus raked back his thick white mane. “Oh?”

“The kid blurting out on national TV about the so called wolf dogs. I thought he bought the story about our genetically bred killer dogs. I couldn’t bring myself to…”

Romulus whiffed the aroma of the whiskey. “Not that I’m getting soft in my old age, but you made the right decision. I talked to the news station. Story is over. You know the ‘homeland security keep your mouth shut or else deal’.

And anyway, the kid is helping save the wolf. I’m here about the cubs. Are they still dying?”

“While I was gone two died. The others are not showing any symptoms, at least not yet.”

Romulus drained the glass and sighed. “How are the parents taking it?”

“Not well. I told my pack no more pregnancies until we figure out why this is happening.”

“Blessed Feronia. I heard Tundra and Rodolf had a child who has remained human.”

“That’s after having one that became a cub two months after it was born and then died of the mysterious ailment.” Normally, Lycan children had their first shift at age twelve. The cubs that survived the disease remained in their wolf forms with an intelligent understanding of human speech but a wolf nonetheless. Never to shift into their human form.

Romulus poured himself another shot. “I take it our own doctors don’t know anything.”

“That’s right. They found the disease has touched all the packs. Dr. Accalia thinks we need to get help outside of our community.”

Romulus shook his head. “I was afraid of that.” He sighed. “Our packs are dwindling. And worse we alphas have the impossible task of finding our life mates.”

Non-alpha werewolves never took humans as mates. It was their most sacred law to only allow the alpha males to mate with human females deemed wolf maidens. He was one of the privileged few. “Not exactly romantic to go around looking for the mark of the wolf on human females,” said Wyatt.

“You’re what, thirty three this year?”

“I know. It’s time I settle.”

“I really thought you and Irina would hit it off. She really did like you.”

“From what I’ve heard she and Dmitri are quite happy and with a healthy daughter.” He knew Romulus was still miffed that he had not felt anything for Irina. After date number two he had found the tall Croatian red haired beauty too flaky and materialistic. She was a bombshell though; a model that had dated rock stars. Her scent did not do anything for him. There was no chemistry. Maybe he was too picky. Dmitri on the other hand swept her off her feet and she, him. “She could have been your child and not that Russian nationalist’s. You know it wouldn’t hurt if you at least tried.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I haven’t searched. I certainly can’t go on those online dating services and advertise. Looking for a wolf loving hot chick with a birthmark in the shape of wolf paw. Palm side with five toes.”

Romulus set his glass down. His mood darkened. “Your Bayou rival Bisclavaret has placed such an ad. He’s even promising big money for women bearing the mark to sell their ova. That damn disobedient idiot!”

“I take it you talked to him.”

“Of course. He grows more defiant every day. We had to cover up four more horrific murders by his boys.”

Wyatt tensed his jaw and poured them both another drink. “I’m afraid this might lead to war.”

“A repeat of the second world war. Trust me, we don’t want to end up that way.”

“I take it Tilda has not bothered to help him find a mate?” The British female lycan was the closest thing to a real matchmaker they had. She combed the globe looking for women with the mark. All lycanthropes traced their ancestry to three lines, Celtic, Roman, and Nordic. He was from the direct descendant of King Arthur’s knight, Sir Bledig. The wolf maidens, however, had no real line.

They often cropped up randomly and then passed on the trait to future wolf maidens on a yet unidentified gene. All the migration and intermarriage throughout Europe spread their line all over the world. Not an easy task to find wolf maidens, especially since these special ladies were nearly wiped out as witches during medieval times. The paw print was deemed the mark of the devil.

“He is not worthy! I told him Tilda would not lift a finger to help him.”

“Last I heard he tried to mate with non-breeders.”
Romulus flushed red. “None survived. And I’m not just talking about the deformed fetuses. Two women died in child birth and the third disappeared after delivering a hybrid of sorts.”

Wyatt made a fist. “He can’t marry human women and get away with it.”

“He never married them. It was just a gross experiment. After the Lupercal Council threatened to eliminate his pack, he acquiesced and vowed to never seek out human non-breeder women.”

“Not to mention his messy murders.” Wyatt had wanted to get rid of Bisclavaret but permission had been denied. The two had been sworn enemies for years. “Allow me to challenge him!”

“Believe me I want nothing more, but the Lupercal Council do not wish to destroy such a strong alpha. If he had left his pack then we could have had him snuffed but for now we hope he continues to follow the rules.”

Wyatt paced to the window and gazed at the half moon. “I would hate to see him find a breeder.”

Romulus glared at him. “You know that is not your concern. Just find one for yourself first.” He joined Wyatt and watched the stars. “Tilda has located a woman in Wales who might be a breeder. I’ll let you know if the rumors are true.”

“Has she shown an interest in wolves?”

“Not exactly but she does raise Scottish Deerhounds.”

Wyatt had become tired of dating women who had been drawn to dogs or wolves. All nice ladies in their own right but not wolf maidens and most importantly none had stirred his heart the way his mother had his father. His mother Brooke had been a biologist for the Fish and Game Department up in Alaska studying the relationship between ravens and wolves when she met his father Wayne, a wolf biologist. Turns out she had the mark and they fell madly in love within a few hours of meeting. This year they celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary. He was their only child. “Look, now that I’ve retired from fixing other people’s problems I promise I’ll get around to finding a mate.” He suppressed a smile. “I’ll ask Tilda to send me a photo.”

Romulus opened his mouth to speak and hesitated. “From… what I heard this potential breeder is a bit stout with short brown hair and is living with another woman, but they could be just roommates.”

Wyatt laughed. “You know, wolf maidens do have to like men.”

“I’m old fashioned, but from what I’ve heard lesbians like having children as much as heterosexual women.”

Wyatt shot Romulus a doubtful glance. “Tell you what, keep on asking around. I’m taking Dr. Accalia’s recommendation and will be looking for a decent canine veterinarian we can pay to keep quiet.”

“Any ideas where to look.”

“Monday I head off to San Francisco for the World-Wide Wolf Population summit. The eminent Dr. Madeline B. Styles is one of the keynote speakers on the Ethiopian Wolf Distemper Outbreak.”

Romulus raised an eyebrow. He pulled on his thick gray beard. “I’ve read about this veterinarian from the Bay Area. In the last few years she has become an authority on wolf diseases. As I recall she was also part of the team that mapped out the dog genome.”

“I figure if I pay her a good sum she might want to practice here for a while. She lives in Sausalito with a boyfriend but is otherwise not married or settled down with kids.”

“As long as you pay her enough for silence. And most certainly, have her sign the life blood contract.”

Wyatt sighed. He never felt comfortable having humans sign their life away if they exposed their lycan society. Would she risk her life and those of her boyfriend’s to expose the truth? He didn’t know what she looked like, but thought it was amazing to find a woman so passionate about wolves. He turned to Romulus. “You don’t think she’s a wolf maiden?”

“I suppose it’s possible, but as far as our records show we have never found any in California. Not everyone who seeks the wolf is guaranteed to be a breeder.” He shrugged. Still, you might want to contact Tilda. Send her a photo when you get one and she can put it through our data bank to see if she matches the profile of past wolf maidens.”

“Our women can skip generations. You know, no daughters only sons.”

“Most true. My own mother had inherited the mark from her paternal grandmother and not her mother,” noted Romulus. He gave him a shrewd look. “You should have no problem looking for the mark.”

Wyatt gave him a crooked grin. “She’s probably not my type. Someone who devotes that much time to microbes and taking rectal temperature readings from drooling dogs is probably as attractive as the potential wolf maiden, Welsh dog lover. At this point all that matters is finding a damn cure.”

Romulus snickered and wiped his mouth with a fine tailored handkerchief from his coat pocket. “The transaction to your bank account is complete. Give her as much as you want if you wish to hire her.” He stood.

“You know what to do if she can’t keep quiet.”

Wyatt’s lip twitched. The damn blood contract. “I don’t kill innocent humans.” Not only had it been a code that all alphas promised to uphold but one that he had promised his human mother.

Romulus sighed. “Well, if she talks you will have to move with your entire pack out of the country.”

“Then we will move. Christ we have the money for it.”

Romulus patted his shoulder. “Be careful. But if you need my assistance let me know.”

“I will.”

The two embraced and Romulus trudged out of the cedar sided lodge inn and stepped into his black hummer while a man wearing a dark suit held his door open. The driver sped off with the fog lights shining through the forest along the hidden driveway back to civilization.

Wyatt closed the door and rang a bell to let his pack know they were free to come out.

The large lodge housed at least fifteen lycans and could accommodate at least one hundred more. Some of them lived and worked in small towns, coming on to the private property to spend the full moon days the safety of the compound. The sanctuary had been his mother’s idea and surebeat going to the deep national parks or wilderness with so many people. Only five packs existed in North America, one in Canada and four in the United States. His parents wished to retire in peace, left the pack to Wyatt and moved to British Columbia. He had a smaller lodge built for himself a mile away from the major inn. Though he graciously took over his father’s responsibility he still enjoyed privacy.
Over the years his second in command and beta Jon Riley had taken over management of the Shadow of the Moon Wolf Sanctuary.

Inside his own cabin he packed and then stepped in the shower. The near scalding water felt good on his skin, as if cleaning all the blood from the last mission. A visit to warmer California would take his mind off of his recent loss. It had been ages since he last visited California. He was a graduate of Stanford, however he never returned after completing his major in Anthropology with a minor in European History. One perk of being an alpha was that the Lupercal Council paid for his education. His mother wanted him to continue with grad school but instead he was recruited by Romulus. Because of his responsibility, his kind could not exactly mingle in regular society. The alpha male kept his pack from going on killing sprees during the full moon.

When he did spend full moon nights away from the pack, either a lone alpha like Romulus could keep watch or they would remain locked in the underground cage facility.
He toweled off and combed his black hair. He stared at his image.

Behind his human face was the shadow of his wolf head. As a wolf his fur was raven black. He shaved his recent growth. Just because he didn’t have his mate didn’t mean he should not enjoy the wonderful city women he might meet.

Hell, he may never find his mate, why not at least have short-term relationships? There were also very attractive she-lycans outside his pack. He nicked himself and swore. Last time he dated a lycan it ended in disaster. His eyes moved down his torso near his ribs where the angered she-werewolf dug her claws in trying to rip him apart. A silvery slither of a scar remained as a reminder that the female of his kind would never stand for a brief affair.

He laid back on his king sized bed. If he took a non-breeder human wife he would have to leave the pack and be on his own. Would it be worth leaving his blood pledged responsibility to his kind? Not to mention that a lone wolf or rogue was hunted and killed by other werewolves allowed to get rid of a traitor that would abandon his pack. Romulus and his father of course would not, could not, kill him. Bisclavaret and his pack would certainly enjoy the game.

What human woman would want to lead a life of running and hiding? No.