If any dog ought to have had sympathy for the new Omega, it should have been the old one. Whine knew what it felt like to go hungry, to be despised and overlooked.
Surely he could have shown a little pity! Lucky felt his muzzle curl as he watched Whine’s smug, flat face, still smeared with deer blood. No, I can’t think about him; I’ll only get angrier, and I can’t afford to do that.
Lucky could only hope the Great Howl would make him feel better about himself, but as the dogs gathered and the eerie sound swelled into the night sky, his gaze was drawn against his will to Mulch. The newly appointed Omega was trying to join in, but his howls were faint and brief, and he was obviously too weak from his beating to take his Pack-place in the great bonding time. No shadow-dogs bounded across Lucky’s vision that night; there was no enchantment in the Great Howl for him.
Mulch—Lucky found it impossible to think of him as Omega—was the first to slink away when the sounds of the Howl had died off. Lucky waited till the rest of the Pack had dispersed to their sleeping-places before he carefully retrieved the meat he’d hidden, then padded across to the uncomfortable shallow scrape where Mulch had to make his new bed. As the branches rustled, Mulch looked up at him, startled.
“What do you want?” There was resentment in the black dog’s eyes.
“I brought—” Lucky took a breath. “I brought you food. There was some left.”
“That’s not allowed.” Mulch glared at him suspiciously.
“No one’s going to know.” Lucky pawed the chunks of flesh closer to Mulch. “I’m certainly not going to confess to Alpha.”
Just saying those words sent a tremor of guilt through his spine, but Mulch didn’t notice. “Why would I take food from you?”
Lucky couldn’t blame him. “You didn’t get much.”
“No. That little dung-scraping Whine didn’t want to leave me any.”
“It didn’t seem fair. When there was so much today.”
“No. It wasn’t fair,” grunted Mulch. His nose was stretching toward the food, however reluctant he seemed. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you, City Dog?”
“Of course not,” protested Lucky. Not now, anyway.
In the end Mulch couldn’t help himself. He licked a few times at the meat, then dragged it closer and began to tear into it with his teeth. Lucky could barely watch. He’d eaten a good half of it before he glanced up again.
“Thank you,” he growled, a little sadly. “Though I don’t know why you’d help an Omega dog. Especially when I didn’t exactly welcome you to the Pack.”
And that’s one of the reasons I picked you as my victim. Lucky swallowed. “I just . . . felt bad about it. I’m not used to Pack rules. Especially rules about Omegas.”
“Well,” said Mulch gruffly, “thank you anyway.” He gulped down more mouthfuls of flesh.
Leaving Mulch alone to eat the scraps of his own dinner, Lucky squeezed through the branches again and padded back to the hunters’ den.
Forest-Dog, he thought unhappily, please don’t let Mulch get any smarter. Don’t let him figure it out.
Don’t ever let him realize that all the trouble started when I arrived.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was too hot and close in the hunters’ den, and after much squirming and circle-treading, Lucky gave up his attempts to sleep. He crept into the clearing to slump down on the cool grass. Above him, in the circle of the star-silhouetted pine tops, the Moon-Dog glowed fierce and full, spilling silver light that was bright enough to cast shadows. Thank the Sky-Dogs that I’m not sneaking out to see Bella tonight, thought Lucky. I’d be seen straight away.
Something moved at the other side of the clearing, catching his attention, and Lucky pricked his ears with curiosity. In the moonlight it was easy to see a huge shape emerge from the finest den of all, the one that was soft with long grass and sheltered by flat stone.
Alpha, thought Lucky in surprise, watching his leader pace restlessly across the clearing. The dog-wolf’s eyes glowed as he gazed up at the Moon-Dog. Lucky’s ears went forward in surprise as Alpha strode on and vanished between the trees.
Sweet’s slender form appeared from the bushes and she stretched languidly before padding across to Lucky.
“Can’t sleep?” She lay at his side, ears pricked, her eyes on the spot where Alpha had disappeared.
“No. I can’t. Where has Alpha gone?”
She gave a low, perplexed growl. “He always leaves when the Moon-Dog reveals her full face—he wants to be alone with her for a time.” Sweet shook her head as if she didn’t really understand. “It’s a habit he brought from his Wolf Pack days. They always sang to the Moon-Dog together, Alpha says. It was even more special than the Great Howl. Even more special,” she repeated in disbelief.
Though he understood no more than Sweet did, Lucky felt a tingle in his backbone. He could barely imagine a sensation more thrilling than the Great Howl, but if that was true of the Moon-Dog ritual, it was no wonder Alpha wanted to recall a little of it, even though he had no Wolf Pack to share with. Once again Lucky wondered what could have driven Alpha to leave his wolf-comrades and run with a Pack of feral mutts.
Of course, one of those feral mutts had almost drawn Lucky into Pack life himself. . . .
Lucky gazed at Sweet’s elegant head, raised to sniff the night air and perhaps to follow Alpha’s scent trail too.
“Sweet,” he said, “could you walk with me for a while?”
She turned her head and tilted an ear, studying him. “You mean, outside the camp?”
“Yes. I want to talk to you. Alone.”
Sweet tapped her tail thoughtfully on the earth. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Lucky. What would Alpha say if he knew?”
“From what you told me, he won’t be back for a long time.” Catching her doubtful expression, he pressed his advantage. “Do you have to do everything he says?”
Sweet tensed. “Certainly not. But he’s my Alpha and I respect him.”
“And he obviously respects you.” Cunning ploy, City Dog. “And trusts you. I need to talk to you, that’s all. And it’s hard to do that when the Pack is all around.”
Sighing, Sweet thought for a while, then gave a reluctant nod. “All right, Lucky. Just for a while, then.” She stood up on her long legs. “The lakeshore, I think. It’s a good place to talk.”
Lucky padded at her flank as she slipped silently between the trees. They soon came to the long silver line of the lake’s shore and heard the soft rush of its gentle waves on the pebbles. The Moon-Dog blazed a brilliant path across the water, making the skyful of stars look dim in contrast.
They paused at the water’s edge, letting waves tickle their forepaws. Suddenly tongue-tied, Lucky bent to lick at the wet fur between his claws, teasing out burrs with his teeth.
“What did you want to talk about?” asked Sweet, less impatiently than he expected. She cocked her ears, inclining her head to watch the rippling river of moonlight.
Lucky took a breath. “Was it really necessary? What you and Alpha did to Mulch?”
Sweet was silent for a moment; then she sighed and sat down on her haunches. “Yes. Yes, Lucky, it really was. In a Pack, things are sometimes necessary even when you don’t like doing them.”
“Didn’t you?” He hesitated, not wanting to sound insolent, but wanting very much to know. “Like it, I mean?”
“Of course not.” She was indignant now. “How could I enjoy something like that? It was my duty. I’m Alpha’s partner and I have to stand by him. I have to support him in all things, especially where Pack discipline is concerned. If we weren’t strong together, the Pack would fall apart.”
The tide of bitter jealousy that raced through his blood receded, leaving a small seed of hope in his gut.
“Sweet. You said partner.”
“Yes?”
“Partner. Not mate.”
There was an expression in her dark eyes that he couldn’t read at all. Lucky’s fur p
rickled under her intense gaze.
“That’s right,” she said at last. “Partner.”
“So it’s strictly a Pack rank thing? It’s your place in the hierarchy, not—”
“Exactly.” She shook herself and turned back to her study of the lake.
“Sweet . . .” He paused, thumping his tail nervously. “I’ve wanted to ask you for a while. How did you rise so fast in the Pack?”
She sighed and splashed a paw in the shallow waves, scattering shards of light. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Lucky. There was . . . well, there was another Beta before I arrived. We didn’t . . . get along. She isn’t around anymore.”
The hair stood up on the back of Lucky’s neck. To fill the awkward silence, he stood up on all four paws and lapped at the water. Presumably he could drink freely so long as he wasn’t on patrol; it was deliciously cool against his tongue and throat.
“Alpha and I are a team.” Sweet’s voice broke the silence. “We work together, run the Pack, keep discipline, and keep it strong. Maybe we’ll become mates someday; that’s what usually happens. But there’s no hurry.”
Lucky forced himself to keep drinking, and to focus on that one part: There’s no hurry.
“I like my place in the Pack,” she went on stubbornly. “I’ve never been a Beta before. I didn’t know I could do it. It makes me feel . . . I don’t know. Stronger. Confident. It’s not easy to keep a position like this, but I’ve done it.”
“I understand, Sweet,” Lucky said slowly. “I truly do.” Still, the constant striving, the shoving for power and position made his head spin. It had been bad enough taking Snap’s place. How could Sweet bear the tension: always fighting to keep her status, always having to prove herself, day after day? He didn’t let her see his shudder.
At least in Bella’s Pack they were all equal. They might not be as efficient at survival as Sweet’s Pack, but if he had to be in a Pack at all, Lucky thought Bella’s way was the better one.
“I’m glad we met up again,” he told Sweet awkwardly.
“So am I.” She pricked an ear and watched him curiously.
Lucky scraped at the pebbles with his claws. “I think I’d like to go for a walk on my own now. Is that all right? If Alpha can do it . . .”
Sweet’s eyes widened. “You can’t do everything Alpha can do.”
“A walk alone can’t hurt the Pack.”
“No.” Her voice had grown harder and cooler again. “But just because you beat Snap, don’t start thinking you can challenge Alpha’s authority. That would be a different game altogether. Even Fiery couldn’t defeat Alpha, if he was stupid enough to try.”
Lucky bristled at her tone. “Fiery doesn’t have enough ambition to challenge Alpha. That’s all.”
“Fiery’s smart enough to stick to the rules. And you should be too.” Standing, Sweet turned her haunches to him and began to pad back toward the camp. She paused only to glance back once more over her shoulder. “Remember what happened to Mulch.”
Remember what happened to Mulch.
How could he forget?
Lucky stood staring at the space where Sweet had been for a long time after she vanished into the forest, but at last he turned back to the lake. It rippled so calmly, so peacefully, and the Moon-Dog trail still lay broad and bright on its surface. If the Moon-Dog was Alpha’s special Spirit Dog, would she betray Lucky to the brutal dog-wolf? Or would Moon-Dog understand what he was about to do?
Lucky gave a high brief whimper of unhappiness into the night.
Remember what happened to Mulch. . . .
He couldn’t go on like this. Sweet’s last words had finally made up his mind. That she could do what she’d done to Mulch was bad enough—but to threaten Lucky with the same fate? He caught a whine gathering in the back of his throat and swallowed hard. Stop that, Lucky!
He was filled with a fierce longing to put as much distance as he could between himself and Alpha’s Pack—between himself and his terrible guilt. For the sake of protecting his own hide, he’d done a terrible thing to Mulch, and all on the orders of that sneering little creature Whine.
After all, he’d found out everything Bella could possibly need to know. There was no reason for him to stay, none at all. Part of him knew that he had only stayed this long because he’d wanted to: because he was a hunter, a dog with status; because of the Great Howl. It was a part of himself he was afraid of. If he gave in to it, would he lose the rest of what made him Lucky?
Almost without realizing, he was already walking away. Along the edge of the waves he broke into a loping run, eager now to get far from Alpha’s Pack, and as fast as he could. He would miss Sweet, he couldn’t deny that, but she was Alpha’s partner, and would soon be his mate. She could not have made clearer where her loyalties lay. He would miss some of the others, too, he realized—Twitch and Snap especially. He remembered with a pang how he’d promised to teach Snap some City Dog tricks.
But I don’t belong with Snap, or with Sweet, and I certainly don’t belong with Alpha.
Do I?
The Moon-Dog was still high; Bella would be at the longpaw campsite. Urgency lent him speed and nimbleness, and he made his way swiftly through the darkly shadowed wood, feeling a nip of nervousness whenever the pale clear moonlight picked him out. His legs pumped beneath him. The thought of what he was doing drove him on; what if Bella left before he arrived? What if she wasn’t there at all?
What if she’s given up on me . . . ?
A great rush of relief hit him when he smelled the old-smoke reek that reminded him of the camp. He bounded into the clearing to see Bella there waiting for him. With a low bark of greeting, she trotted up and licked him as he stood panting.
She cocked her head, waiting patiently for him to catch his breath. “I’d almost given up on you, Yap. I was about to leave!”
He nuzzled her. “Don’t give up on me, Squeak. Not yet!”
Her eyes were bright and happy, he noticed. “It’s been a few no-suns since you met Daisy and Sunshine. What kept you?”
“I’m running out of excuses to slip away,” he said, and sat down. Now that he could see her clearly in the pale light of the Moon-Dog, he noticed signs of tiredness in the creases around Bella’s eyes. There were scratches on her nose, and a shallow gash on her left shoulder, but despite all that she seemed carefree. Almost triumphant . . . and there was something strange about her smell. Tentatively sniffing at her shoulder, he caught it distinctly: the scent of other animals, dark and musky.
A chill ran through his blood. Lucky took a step back from her. “Bella. What’s going on?”
“We’re all fine,” Bella said brightly. “Your instructions about getting to the lake and the hunting grounds worked perfectly! I’m sure we’ll be much stronger soon.”
“Well . . . that’s good, but it’s not what I meant. You look hurt!”
Bella tossed her head dismissively. “Some Wild Dogs we had to fight off. But we managed!”
Lucky was speechless. Since when had his litter-sister happily fought battles with Wild Dogs, and won? And all while he was stuck in the Wild Pack, doing her tricky spy work. There was a rustle in the grass as a field mouse stole past—the sound only made the silence between them seem even more painful.
“What about you, Lucky?” Bella asked eventually. “What’s happened since last time?”
She sounded so bright and curious, Lucky found himself telling her everything, even though he begrudged each word. He had the strongest sense, in the uneasy tingling of his fur, that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth—yet she expected just that from him!
Bella was listening keenly, and gave a sharp little bark of encouragement as he paused. “And Daisy’s already told me about your adventures with the giant loudcages—they sounded terrible!”
“They were. And it wasn’t much of an adventure,” he pointed out, miffed. “It was frightening, and if it hadn’t been for Alpha—”
Bella’s ears pricked sharpl
y. She must have heard the respect in his voice when he was talking about the Pack leader. “What about him?”
“Never mind.” He found he didn’t want to explain his complicated feelings about Alpha—not to his litter-sister. “Anyway, that’s what I’ve been dealing with, and those yellow-fur longpaws, too, while you’ve been fighting battles with Wild Dogs.”
Her eyes were suddenly full of sympathy, and she nosed anxiously at his flank. “Were you hurt, Lucky?”
“No.” Thanks to Alpha. “But, Bella, I’ve had enough. I want to come back, and we can move on together somewhere else. It’s not just loudcages and longpaws—it’s dangerous just being with that Pack. Omega—I mean Whine—could expose me at any moment. I’m not sure he’s finished with me—and after the Moon-Dog’s next turn, he’ll be Omega again, I’m sure of it. That’ll make him even more bitter and vengeful!”
“But that’s a long time away!” barked Bella cheerfully. “You’ve kept that horrible dog happy for now. You’ll be fine!”
Lucky stared at her. “That’s not the point. It isn’t just Whine! If those dogs ever find out I’ve betrayed them—well. You won’t be seeing your litter-brother anymore. I’ll be hunting worms with the Earth-Dog!”
Bella looked at her paws. “But you can’t, Lucky. You can’t come back.”
His heart seemed to stop. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, Lucky, I don’t mean forever. Just for now. You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t!” he barked angrily.
“Listen,” Bella placated him. “Later, of course you can come back, Lucky. In a few days, perhaps! But Martha and Bruno are very unwell.”
His gut turned over. “Still? Bella, this isn’t right. They should be—”
“Oh, you mustn’t worry, Lucky!” she said hurriedly. “You have enough to think about. It’s a strange illness, that’s all—their bellies ache all the time. I think the sickness might cling to food or water. Maybe even air! And it’s creeping into other dogs’ stomachs. That’s all. They’ll get better, but it would be silly for you to come back, and get sick. Wouldn’t it?”