The half wolf was up to something; she knew it.
In the darkness of the wild wood, later that night, Sweet lay with her head on her paws and gazed up at the Moon-Dog. Her huge eye was full and bright in the sky again, reminding Sweet that she’d been with this Pack now for a full Moon-Dog journey.
And now, for the first Great Howl since she’d joined them, she was exiled to the camp’s edges, her punishment for letting those coyotes sneak in. Through the trees she could hear the first voices rise, then others as they joined in harmony. The Howl swelled and rose, making the night air quiver, and raising Sweet’s fur at the roots.
It felt strange. Despite her isolation out here, she didn’t feel lonely, as she had when as an outsider she’d first heard their distant howling. Even though she wasn’t with them right now, she felt the connection in her bones and her blood: a living, thrilling link to her Pack, and this forest, and the wounded earth they walked on.
The wounded earth that never howled, that clenched its fangs against the pain it must feel at being torn apart . . .
Sitting up, Sweet tilted her head back. Unable to repress it, she let the howl grow in her belly and her throat, swelling until the cry of emotion escaped her. Even if she wasn’t among them, she could howl with her Pack, she could join her voice and her whole being to theirs.
The sensation of belonging filled Sweet as if it was a second stream of blood in her veins. With that knowledge came a deep feeling of peace. Beta couldn’t touch that, not deep down; and even Alpha couldn’t affect it with his tricks and manipulations. Her connection was with the Pack and its spirit, and only she could break it.
And I’d never want to. After all the times she’d run away—from the Trap House, from Lucky, from her first swift-dog Pack—she found suddenly that the urge to run was gone.
This was where she belonged—this land, this forest, this Pack.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The high of the Great Howl couldn’t last forever, and Sweet was exhausted and aching from her long watch by the time the sky began to pale where the Sun-Dog would rise. Her leg muscles ached from the fast sprint to find Fiery, and her mind felt stunned by the Howl itself, but its message had lodged firmly inside her heart and guts. She wouldn’t let her Pack down now. She’d defend their home against anything.
If she truly had abandoned her post, she mused, she’d have earned this punishment, and worse. She still wondered if perhaps Alpha knew more about that than he was letting on. Did he in fact know why no dog was there to stop the coyotes? Did he know what had really happened? And if so, why had he gone through with this?
She didn’t trust the half wolf, Sweet admitted inwardly. But I’m not at all sure why. . . .
A branch cracked behind her, and she leaped to her feet, hackles high; but instantly she recognized the two dogs. Fiery was unmistakable, with his square head and his massive body, and Moon’s white-and-black coat gleamed in the early dawn. The new mother dog leaned weakly against her mate’s flank, but as they drew closer to Sweet she left Fiery’s side to lick Sweet’s ear and nuzzle her neck.
“Thank you for what you did, Sweet,” murmured Moon. “I’m so sorry it got you into trouble. But Fiery came to me in time to see the last of his pups born. I don’t know if I’d have had the strength, otherwise.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” rumbled Fiery. The sire-pride in his eyes looked as if it would never dim. “Our pups don’t have names yet, but one day soon they will—and I hope they grow up to be as loyal and brave as you, Sweet.”
The two dogs’ words made Sweet’s gut twist and her heart warm with gratitude. She returned their fond licks. “Thank you. Both of you. I’m only glad I could help.”
“You helped more than we can say,” Moon told her. “And you didn’t deserve this punishment. We both know you’d never have left your post and abandoned the camp.” She took a breath, as if to say more, then shut her jaws.
“We have to go back to the pups,” said Fiery softly, nuzzling his mate. “But remember what we owe you, Sweet. Because we won’t forget.”
Sweet watched them go, vanishing into the shadows. The warmth inside her was kindling to a fierce glow of protectiveness.
No. I’ll never let my friends down again.
Just as the Sun-Dog was rising, his light glinting fiercely through the trees, Fiery returned, relieving Sweet of her watch and telling her kindly but firmly to get some sleep. Gratefully Sweet accepted, slinking exhaustedly back into the camp. Her eyes and ears drooped and her paws felt like boulders, but it seemed she wasn’t to get any sleep just yet. Alpha was summoning the Pack into the clearing, his tail tapping impatiently on the rock where he sat.
As he caught sight of her approaching, he gave a low bark, and every dog turned, pricking their ears.
“Hear this, dogs of my Pack. Sweet’s punishment is over. She is forgiven her error and she will rejoin the hunting dogs today.”
Just behind him there was a low snarl, and Alpha half turned. Beta stood there, her muscles trembling with anger and her hackles bristling.
Alpha said nothing. He kept his yellow stare level on Beta till she was forced to meet it. The red dog’s tail lowered, and she fell silent.
“That’s settled, then,” growled Alpha. “Every dog, go to your duties. Sweet, get some sleep. You’ll need it before you hunt.”
Without the refreshment of a brief sleep, Sweet didn’t think she’d have managed to catch any prey at all. The hunt that day was long and hard, and as she returned to her den afterward, she felt hunger gnaw at her belly; the sting of it reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything since before her long night’s guard duty. But the ache in her muscles was a good one. She was a part of the team again, a good and hardworking dog, a valuable member of the Pack.
She stopped at the entrance to her den and sniffed. Food?
Happiness made her light-headed. Fiery and Moon had left her a rabbit from the Pack’s earlier meal. It’s good to have a Pack, she thought. It’s good to have friends.
She could barely even wait to give thanks to the Forest-Dog. Falling on the rabbit, she pinned it with her forepaws and began to tear at it, gulping chunks of it down. The feeling of warm food in her empty belly was bliss, chasing away all the fears and worries and sadness of the night before. For long, ravenous moments, Sweet didn’t even see the shadow that fell across her.
Only when Beta’s howl rang out above her did she jerk her head up, startled.
“Sweet has eaten the common prey! She has deprived the Pack and its pups, and filled her own belly!”
Sweet stared up at the red dog, her jaw loose, dizzy for an instant with disbelief and bewilderment. What?
Then, as she caught the vicious glint in Beta’s eyes, she realized. Beta left this rabbit here! It was Beta!
Sweet shuffled hastily back from the torn prey, but she knew it was too late. Her mouth was bloody and stained, and still full of rabbit meat.
She could only crouch, trembling, on the ground as Alpha stalked toward her, followed by her Packmates. The taste of the meat in her jaws was like acrid dust; she couldn’t even swallow it.
“Sweet.” Alpha’s bark was thunderous. “This is the worst offense a Pack member can commit.”
“Alpha, I—” Her whine was so hoarse, she could barely hear it herself.
“If you really did this, Sweet,” Alpha growled, “you will be scarred both as punishment and as a sign to every dog of what you are. What do you have to say for yourself? How do you respond to Beta’s charge?”
The half wolf’s yellow eyes were entirely unreadable. Sweet stared into them, transfixed with horror, searching for a trace of pity, or a trace of doubt.
I won’t be scarred for something I didn’t do. I will not let it happen!
But how can I stop it? I have no witnesses to speak for me! Beta planned this, she planned it perfectly from the start. . . .
She could spring to her paws right now, she thought, turn and run. No dog here could catch
her if she was determined. She was the fastest of all of them.
But then she could never come back. Never. Finally tearing her eyes away from Alpha’s, she met Fiery’s steady clear gaze.
Fiery wants me to deny it. He wants me to prove myself—he wants to know he and Moon were right to trust me. . . .
Something churned in Sweet’s belly, and a spark of fire flared in her heart.
I will not be the Dog Who Runs. Not this time. I will be the Dog Who Stands Her Ground.
Sweet raised herself to her paws. She stood foursquare, her legs so rigid she was afraid they would tremble. But she gazed once more, this time with defiance, into Alpha’s eyes.
“Alpha. Dogs of my Pack,” she barked, and her voice rang out clear and strong. “I reject Beta’s charge. She is lying. I will prove myself, here and now, in combat.”
She turned to the red dog, and gazed at her icily.
“I challenge Beta.”
CHAPTER NINE
The air in the camp crackled with tension, lifting the roots of Sweet’s fur. Dogs were drawing back into a wide circle, their eyes wide and their ears pricked in nervous expectation. There were small whines of anxiety, and a few excited growls of anticipation, quickly stifled.
Sweet kept her eyes on Beta, who stood rigid, as if in shock. The red dog’s jaws were slightly parted, but as Sweet watched, she recovered, and her lips stretched in a sneer over her sharp fangs.
At Sweet’s side, Moon murmured, “Is this what you wanted all along, Sweet? To challenge Beta and become Alpha’s second in command?”
Sweet cocked one ear at her friend. “Of course not. That has nothing to do with this.” She frowned. “I’m tired of putting up with her, that’s all. Taunting me, playing tricks. The Wind-Dogs wouldn’t put up with it from the Hare. If I tolerated it from Beta, I’d be letting down Alpha Wind-Dog herself!” A fierce thrill of determination went down Sweet’s spine as she said it. Wind-Dogs, she thought, be with me! Give me the speed I need!
“Hear me, dogs of my Pack,” barked Alpha. “Sweet the swift-dog challenges Beta.” He glanced around them all, then stepped back and nodded to the two challengers.
“Be careful, Sweet,” Moon whispered, licking her ear. “Beta is a good and clever fighter. And she’s ruthless.”
“I know she is.” Sweet nodded calmly. “But I can either stand up to her, or I can run. And I won’t be the Dog Who Runs, not anymore. I’ve tried that, and I always regret it. Now, I’m going to be the Dog Who Stands.”
“You’ll stand,” snarled Beta, “till I grind you into the dust.” She flung herself at Sweet, fangs snapping, claws lashing.
Sweet whirled, ducked, and flew beneath Beta’s charging body. If Beta had hoped to catch her off guard with a single violent charge, thought Sweet, she was wrong. She twisted, raking her claws at Beta’s underbelly as the red dog tumbled and rolled off-balance.
Sweet missed, but Beta had not laid a claw on her, either. Furious, Beta sprang back to her paws and charged again. This time Sweet’s haunches were bunched beneath her and she propelled herself upward so that Beta skidded in the dust, missing again. But Beta was fast, too, and one of her flailing paws caught Sweet’s flank, drawing blood.
Sweet scrabbled to a stop, turning quickly to face her enemy. She could feel blood beading on her flank, and the warm trickle as it began to flow. She clenched her jaws.
“You’re pathetic, Bony Dog,” snarled Beta.
Sweet resisted the temptation to return insult for insult. She was faster than Beta, but she was going to need all her breath and all her wits to stay out of reach of those savage claws. She dodged sideways again as Beta lunged, feeling sharp teeth graze her leg, but she’d escaped once more without a deep wound. As Beta stumbled, Sweet snapped her long muzzle at the red dog’s hind leg. Her jaws closed satisfyingly on flesh and bone, and Beta yelped. Sweet released her, and sprang back out of reach.
Both dogs stood rigid, eyeing each other, panting hard. Around them there was silence from the rest of the Pack; Sweet didn’t hear so much as a whine or a quiet yelp.
Beta began to circle again, and Sweet turned slowly, watching her.
This time, Beta’s attack was still powerful, but she took more care, and Sweet darted forward to meet her, teeth bared. Beta dodged her bite, and swiped her claws at Sweet’s eyes, one claw nicking her cheekbone. Sweet gave a yelp of anger.
She’s fighting like Callie used to. Aiming for my eyes! She doesn’t care if she blinds me—she’d rather kill me than see me part of this Pack!
The realization sent new strength and determination flowing into Sweet’s blood. This is one fight I won’t lose.
Beta’s moves were slyer now, more considered, but Sweet could see the red light of fury in her blazing eyes. She’s not in complete control of herself. If I can tempt her in closer —
Sweet bounded forward, head twisting as if to bite. Beta lunged for her eyes again, but this time Sweet ducked and rolled. Beta’s forepaw slammed into the dust beside her head, and Sweet took her chance. She snapped for the red dog’s foreleg, seizing it between her jaws and crunching down hard. Through the pounding of blood in her ears, she heard Beta’s screaming howl of pain.
I can’t give her a single chance. Sweet twisted up onto her forepaws, Beta’s leg still clamped in her teeth, and yanked hard. Her teeth tore into the flesh, and against the soft inside of her mouth she felt something strain and snap in her enemy’s leg muscles.
Beta’s howl turned into a shrieking yelp. Her big body collapsed sideways, thumping into the dust. Sweet flung herself on top of the red dog, releasing her leg and grabbing a tight hold on her neck.
“Yield!” she snarled through a mouthful of fur and flesh. “Yield!”
Beta was squirming and wriggling and whining with fury beneath her, but Sweet had her pinned. At last, flanks heaving, the red dog went limp, her teeth still bared in a snarl.
“I . . . I yield.”
Sweet left her teeth in Beta’s scruff a moment longer, to make certain, then abruptly released her. She scrambled off the red dog’s sprawled body, letting her stagger to her paws and stand there, panting with defeated fury.
Sweet lifted her head high. “You made me out to be a thief, Beta. You called me a food-stealer and a deserter in front of my Pack.” Her fangs clenched. “You lied.”
Beta’s tail was low and her head hung down, but her face still wore its hateful snarl.
“You lied, Beta,” barked Sweet in her face. “Say it!”
“I lied,” growled Beta, “to rid our Pack of a useless lightweight.”
Sweet’s muzzle curled, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. All around, other dogs were muttering, growling, barking out the things they hadn’t dared say before.
“Beta did lie. I never believed Sweet would steal,” whined Twitch.
“Not after she carried that rabbit all the way here,” barked Spring in agreement.
“Beta’s sneaky that way,” growled Snap. “I always said you couldn’t trust her.”
Fiery gave Snap a sidelong frown of disapproval, but he said, “You can trust Sweet.”
“Yes,” said Moon, coming forward to lick the swift-dog’s ear. “Sweet has always been a good dog. She’s an asset to this Pack.”
Sweet glanced at Beta. She almost felt sorry for her, but she couldn’t afford to give in to pity. Beta had pushed and pushed till Sweet had had no choice, and Sweet knew that she couldn’t show weakness now. That was the world after the Big Growl: it was about survival. And she would survive. She knew now that she had the strength.
Beta curled her muzzle as she regained her breath and her dignity. “Enjoy your victory, Sweet.” She didn’t call her Sweetie now, thought Sweet with satisfaction. “But you just wait. I’ll challenge you again, swift-dog. I’ll challenge you on a day when I’m not tired from hunting, and I’ll take back my rightful place in this Pack.”
“No,” came a silky voice. “No, you won’t.”
Alpha
paced forward as dogs gave way before him, drawing back, every eye riveted on him. He stalked right up to Beta, till his nose was almost touching hers. Silence fell among the other Pack members.
“You lost this challenge, Beta,” he growled. “Not that Beta is your name anymore. But you lost more than a fight, and you know it. You’ve been exposed as a liar and a traitor, and this Pack has no room for dishonorable dogs. Leave now.”
Beta looked stunned. Her jaws parted. At last she stammered, “But, Alpha—”
“Leave,” he snarled. “Leave now, Packless dog, while you still can.”
There was no mistaking the threat in his voice. Beta could only stare at him, her face stricken. She took a pace backward, glancing to left and right, and her gaze fell on Sweet.
The hatred there was piercing, but at least it was fleeting. With a heartbroken whine, Beta turned and limped away into the forest.
Sweet shook off the tremor that rippled through her skin. I can’t help thinking I haven’t seen the last of her. . . .
For now, though, life with the Pack promised to be a lot more peaceful, she thought with relief. The Pack was dispersing, and dogs were murmuring and gossiping about the unexpected turn of events. Only Alpha still stood there, watching her with his head slightly cocked.
“Well, Sweet,” he growled. “Are you ready for this? You are Beta of this Pack now.”
Sweet raised her head, slightly shocked. “Alpha, that’s not why I fought her. I know that’s the rule, but I never really wanted—I mean, I only wanted to challenge her lies, stop her bullying me . . .”
The half wolf hunched his shoulders, looking amused. “Whether you meant it or not, Sweet, you can’t break Pack rules. You defeated our Beta in a lawful challenge.”
Sweet stared at him, her jaws slightly parted. It made sense, and Moon had warned her, but it really hadn’t crossed her mind when she issued her challenge to the red dog. Maybe, she thought, I didn’t quite think this through. . . .
The light in Alpha’s eyes was somewhere between mirth and menace.