Midnight Wolves

Chapter Ten: Anything

As promised, at dinner her and her uncle spoke more. But, rather than tales of her parents in their youth, her uncle's focus was on exactly what details Callie remembered from that night and - when unhappy that she couldn't remember much at all - her uncle had turned to asking questions about the Magnum pack under the leadership of Caleb.

"I've heard he's young," her uncle repeated for the second time, as though trying to make a point, "untested, too. How did it seem over there?" By this point, Callie had the attention of the entire pack. But it was Grant who'd made a point of sitting next to her, who's eyes never left her, that unsettled her the most.

"They seem happy, all of them."

Her uncle nodded as though happy for them but the twist to his lips suggested he was anything but. "And Henderson? He doesn't mind being under the control of a young alpha again?"

"Again?" she asked around a mouthful of rabbit stew.

Her uncle picked up the rabbit leg he'd been given and began tearing it apart in his hands, chewing on the bone to really pick off the last of the flesh.

"Yes, your father was younger than him too. It always riled him, y'know? Of course, they were best friends but...Henderson had always thought he'd be alpha one day."

"Got his way in the end." Grant muttered under his breath.

Callie ignored him and focused on her uncle as he continued to crunch, crunch, crunch on the bones. Her stomach soured and she pushed the bowl away.

"Eat up, little wolf." Grant whispered. "You need your strength."

Now really not interested in the food, Callie turned herself away from him. "Henderson seemed happy too," she said, answering her uncle's previous question although she was quite sure he'd forgotten he asked it. "We spoke a bit about my parents. Henderson went on about how much he loved them both."

Her uncle chuckled darkly. "Oh, I have no doubt that Henderson loved your father. Beverley though...he could never abide her." Her uncle chuckled again and dropped a bone onto the table making the woman beside him flinch. She was the oldest, Callie had realised as they were all ordered to dinner. And, it would seem, her Uncle's favourite judging by the possessive nature he'd eyed her with and the way the other wolves avoided her.

"He made it sound like they were all friends." Callie added, picking up her spoon and moving the food around in the bowl to give her something to do as the memories Henderson had shared with her soured at the thought of them not all getting on.

"They were, to a degree. But Beverley was a...God, what did he call her? A mutt – that was it. Not of pack origin, you know?" He said around another mouthful of stew. But the noises of him slurping it from the bowl were lost on Callie as a memory filtered through a crack in her subconscious. A mutt. Why was that so familiar?

Shaking her head to rid her of the thought, she asked, "so you and my mother were close?"

Her uncle shrugged. "As any brother and sister are. We were closer after you were born. She didn't want the treaty either, but felt pressured by the threat to you and your father's insistence for peace. I think she'd have smite them from the world if she could. She was not a wolf to trifle with."

Callie nodded, absently. The image in her head of her mother was a constant evolution. Every piece of information she was given helped her form the picture. Not her angles and edges, or even the colour of her eyes, but the idea of her, as a person. It was something Callie clung to even in the quiet hours.

"Callie?" Her uncle said, looking at her as though he'd been calling her name for a while. She noticed now that most of the other wolves had left silently, just a few remained milling around the tent. Kennedy, sat in the far corner pretending to read a book that Callie was pretty sure was upside down. She cracked a small smile at the she-wolf before focusing back on her uncle, raising an eyebrow in question.

"We've been talking today," he said, gesturing to Grant. Callie froze. Had Grant already put in his request to take her as his mate? Would her uncle agree? Callie's wolf raised her head, having been quiet since earlier, and growled lowly.

Kennedy's head snapped up as though she heard it.

"We need you to do us a favour."

Callie glanced between the two men in question.

"I've told you about the Shadow Valley treaty, that they broke it when they killed your parents. When they stole you. You've seen how my pack have suffered with so little space and useable land. You must have noticed by now how muddy it is? All of this land is swamp-like in the winter. We can't grow anything because the ground is too wet and there's not much prey around either. That rabbit you've eaten tonight is the last of our rations. We're on our knees, Callie. We need your help. Your wolf's help."

It was true. She'd seen it herself. This pack was a mess, but she didn't think it was the land that was at fault, but rather the man sat before her. But it was his pack that bore the brunt, wolves like Kennedy who were worst affected. She'd promised to help her and she would.

"Anything," Callie whispered before she'd realised what she'd said.

Her uncle smiled wide and leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad to see you're so accommodating. The beast – the one you think you saw. The one that roams the valley of shadows. I need you to steal something from it."