Blackshadow (Kingdom of Wolves #2)

“Anyone interested will come over on Saturday. I’ll meet them at the pack border, and they will only be allowed over the border once they have been checked for weapons and have given an oath they are here with no bad intentions,” Brian informs me and William is nodding his head in agreement.

“Okay, that’s good. You both did great. Now go eat and then sleep. We have a lot to get done this week.” I watch as they leave the office, and I feel optimistic about the future of the pack.

Chapter 5

HOPE

The table I’m sitting in front of has a chunk of wood under the broken leg to keep it level. My eyes flick around the shack I call home and I admit it is no wonder I have depression building. I am normally an optimistic person, feeling sorry for myself isn’t my usual state of being.

Life has never been easy, and my momma being thrown out of her pack for sleeping with the alpha’s son, and only the once, left us both without a pack, and my momma wandering the Parklands.

As I’d grown older and momma told me everything, I was grateful she had kept me safe while I was growing up. It had never been easy, and we had never had much of anything. But we had each other, and that was enough.

The alpha’s son was momma’s mate, but he had a chosen mate that his father had arranged. It was an alliance of two medium-sized packs, but it was more for the power that the alliance would bring than any other reason.

Momma never took a chosen mate after she accepted the rejection of her soul mate, telling me the Goddess Selene would make things right, either in this world or the next.

When momma was killed by a rogue who wasn’t from the small collection of us here, I buried her deep in the ground with the help of Baildon, another who was an illegitimate child. He was like a brother to me and when his mother ran off one night and left him alone, my momma did all she could to make sure he was safe.

He lived with us in this shack until he was old enough to live by himself and he built his own shack near to ours. We still hunted, ate, and swam together, but he has now started to wander away for days at a time, leaving me to fend for myself.

This offer of going to the Blackshadow Pack has me intrigued, and I can’t say that joining a pack isn’t appealing, because it is. It would give me safety and a purpose, which I have lost since momma has been gone.

Light tapping on the door has me quickly walking over and opening it. Swift pushes her way into the shack and quickly closes the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Gamzin and his followers are having a meeting about the Blackshadow Pack. I overheard them saying they were not going to join a pack.” Which has me smirking when she says the last in the growly voice of Gamzin. “Some are interested, and he’s trying to stop any of them from leaving. I’m going to look at this pack. It sounded okay, and we know Brian. He lived amongst us for years. We are not safe here anymore, Hope. There are too many of us who are living in fear.”

Taking a seat on the end of what is my bed, but in truth is a pile of straw covered with a blanket, I look at Swift closely. “Who else is interested in leaving here?”

“Jessie, Antica, Lorna and Clover. With you and I that is six of us, but I’m not sure of the others. Some have resigned themselves to being mates with someone here, and some have given up all hope of anything getting any better than it is.” Swift drops next to me and lays the side of her face against my shoulder.

“I’ll go with you. Look at how we are living, Swift, it’s become hopeless. The more we try, the worse it gets. Baildon has even started leaving more often and not coming to see me when he comes back.”

Swift looks at me when I tell her that because she knows how much he has meant to me and to my momma over the years. But now that she’s gone and he has grown-up, things have changed, and not for the better.

“You would be good for any pack, Hope. You are a healer, know herbs and how to use them. Me? I’m not much use to anyone, so you may get to be a pack member, me probably not,” Swift sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand, pretending she’s not about to cry.

“Swift, you are a fighter, a natural warrior, and your momma knew that you would be, as your poppa was a warrior. That’s how you got your name. Being fast and out-maneuvering others is your legacy from your poppa. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

“You got your name as you gave your momma hope, so hey we both have legacies to live up to. You have given us all hope when we’ve had injuries we thought would end us, but you’ve pulled us through. Remember when you were fourteen and put that splint on Stephen’s leg? It was the largest damn thing I ever saw then or after, but his leg healed and he was good as new,” throwing her head back laughing, “but did he call you names at the time you did it. Can you remember clunk, clunk? He couldn’t sneak up on anything, and we all had to do his hunting until he could walk on it again. I don’t remember why he couldn’t shift at that time, mind you.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that. His wolf was angry at him because he wanted to mate with Molly Goodfellow, but Stephen wouldn’t, so his wolf wouldn’t help heal him as punishment. It took six weeks to heal as a human would because of it.” We both let out peals of laughter but neither of us would bring it up in earshot of Stephen.

We talk for another hour before Swift rushes away to hunt while I go outside to work on my small herb patch. It’s not much, but it helps most of us here.

I weed around the chamomile, echinacea, garlic, turmeric, sage, and lavender. The other herbs I’ll leave for another day, as these are the ones that need my immediate attention.

Picking some of the chamomile, as I need to dry the flowers ready for future use. I have infused oil already made for use, and I use pressed sunflower instead of the almond oil we’ve used and have never been able to replace.

Behind the shack is where I have a small fire pit with a hanging arm over for a kettle and cauldron. Over the years, I’ve been able to collect a few pans, trading healing oils for glass jars, spatulas, and other useful items.

By the end of the day, I have chamomile lotion cooling in small jars and I know I’ll be able to trade it for food or clothing with other she-wolves, and even some of the males who have injuries for which they need the healing lotion.

Picking sunflowers that I’ve grown on the edge of the forest clearing, I carry an armful to my shack and lay them out to dry. The seeds are going to be good to make butter and as an oil. We sprinkle seeds on top of baked things we make when we have enough flour to do that. Lorna has been good at procuring us some foods by trading the rabbit meat she’s caught. Some of the humans that live on the edge of their area are happy to trade with us. Some have even come to live among us, as they are as unhappy with their lives as much as we are with ours.

Cleaning the things away that I have used today, I make my way to the river and do my best to wash my hands and face. Boiling water for a wash takes a lot of effort when the bucket seems to take forever to fill. Once a week the six of us bathe in the river, but one of us stays out of the water at all times, watching and listening for any threats.