Another Half

December 2010

Rex raced from one of the newly outfitted gyms in the Training Center to the pack house as soon as he received Sergio’s mind-link that they were home. He didn’t care that he was running through the pack's town shirtless with just a pair of black basketball shorts hanging from his hips, and he cared even less for the many lustful stares that roamed over his body as he ran by.

As he approached the packhouse, Rex was alarmed by the many stretchers that medical personnel was pushing in the same direction he was headed.

“Noooooo!”

Rex heard Ax scream and he slowed down as he was nearing the growing crowd around the red pickup truck parked in the huge circular driveway in front of the pack house.

By the time he got there, Sergio was holding on to Ax, who had collapsed on the ground and was now vomiting into some rose bushes. Rex pushed through the crowd only to see the corpses of his father’s personal guard stacked on the bed of the truck. The stench of blood and wolf's bane assaulted his senses, the fumes of wolf's bane going so far as to burn his nose and throat, but he fought off the need to gag. A few medical personnel, most of them wearing masks to were carefully loading the bodies onto the stretchers already there, body bags already waiting on each one.

Unable to accept what he was seeing, Rex moved closer to the truck but stopped when he saw Gamma Lance’s lifeless bruised eye staring back at him from one of the stretchers. His other eye was completely shut by a surrounding massive red and purple bruise. Rex felt a wave of shock and nausea reverberate through his body as a she-wolf in scrubs quickly zipped up the Gamma in a body bag.

“No,” Rex whispered. “There’s no way. This isn’t possible.”

He looked toward the last remaining three bodies on the truck among a large black garbage bag, relieved that he didn’t find among them the one person he was looking for.

“Where’s my father?” Rex called out loud. He tried to get closer to the truck, but his Uncle Marcel intercepted him and put his arms around him. Rex struggled against him.

“Where’s my father?! Dad?! DAD!”

“Don’t,” his uncle whispered urgently. “You don’t want to do this. Not right now.”

Rex stopped struggling and looked at him. “Where is he? Is he—here?”

His uncle hesitated but finally nodded.

Rex looked back at the truck bed and realized that what he had initially thought was a large garbage bag was actually a large something loosely wrapped in black plastic.

“He didn’t make it back,” Uncle Marcel said, his voice hoarse as it broke. “You don’t want to see him. He’s—he’s not in good shape.”

Nakon’s howl in his mind was long and sorrowful.

From several yards away, Rex noticed something was off about the form of his father’s body.

“Uncle, what did they do to him?”

From behind, Rex felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He didn’t bother to turn; Beta Enrique’s scent had preceded him.

“Rex, we need to talk, but not out here,” Beta Enrique said in a low voice. He used his firm grasp on Rex’s shoulder to guide them toward the pack house.

“Dylan is on his way,” Marcel said, once they had entered.

Enrique nodded. “Sergio and Ax will not join us. I’ll fill them both in later.”

A part of Rex suggested that perhaps he should go see Ax, that he had also lost his father, but his brain was too numb to act on that suggestion.

They’re gone, Rex said to his wolf. We should have never let them go anywhere without us.

We tried, Rex. We so fucking tried. We didn’t have a choice, Nakon said.

November 2010 – Three weeks ago

News of impending invasion had spread quickly throughout the Azul Springs pack. Most of their people had never seen war, so Rex thought their growing apprehension was understandable. For the past several months, the Azul Pack had united and mobilized. Rex helped his father dedicate most of the pack’s resources to recruiting and training warriors, strengthening the pack as a whole. The two gyms at the Training Center were now open twenty–four hours a day and both had new equipment.

Beta Enrique and Sergio were in charge of reinforcing the pack house, restocking the pack house’s food and clothing storage in the basements, and taking the roll of how much space they needed to prepare to house the most vulnerable members of their pack. Some of the oldest, most frail members, as well as pregnant she-wolves with young families, were soon slowly moved into the pack house basements.

Gamma Lance and Training Master Davis worked with the elite warriors as the pack’s main attack line while Ax tried to train the omegas, the elites’ support which made up the bulk of their army. Guard duty and guard training became compulsory for all able males but remained optional for females. Two of the biggest changes were that the sentry schedule now covered all twenty-four hours, and no sentry was to go out alone. They all had to go out with at least one companion.

It was all of these changes that made Rex realize just how complacent their pack had grown through the years, and how privileged he and his father had been to have lived during times of peace.

“What am I supposed to do?” Rex had asked his dad after he had dismissed everyone to their duties all those months ago.

Uncle Dylan had come out of retirement and gone back to Azul Springs Distillery as Interim CEO while Rex supported the preparations for war. Uncle Marcel, the distillery’s long-time CFO, kept Rex in the loop on everything that was going on in his absence.

“You are going to oversee everyone, especially me,” Alpha Brian responded.

“Oversee? Like, supervise and make sure everyone is doing a good job kind of oversee? Dad. Really?”

Alpha Brian chuckled. “I guess it sounded kind of like that, but no. These are unique times, son. You already know how to run a pack during peacetime. Now you’re to learn how to lead a pack during times of war. You’re going to work with all of us, but your main job is to pay attention to what everyone is doing and how.”

Rex stared at him, still confused. “So, just watch people work. That’s my job?”

“No. Your job is to learn everyone’s job, like a general apprentice. Give input when needed. You know how to run a distillery and its several projects at once. Put those skills to use. Someday you’ll have to direct people to do their jobs during wartime and they won’t know what to do unless you show them.”

Rex did as his dad had asked of him while he physically trained for war himself. In fact, he held himself to a higher standard than what Gamma Lance required of the elite warriors, training at the gym every hour he could spare during the day. As a result—and Rex gave credit to his alpha genes more than to his efforts—his body began to change, tbroaden and harden. His strength naturally transferred to Nakon, who became nearly invincible during sparring matches, almost defeating Alpha Brian’s massive wolf Sancus several times.

Then, in mid-November, Alpha Chett of the neighboring Saxe Oaks Pack called Rex’s father for a friendly get-together before Thanksgiving. Just dinner and drinks like old friends, like old times.

“This is my chance to strengthen our alliance,” Alpha Brian said. “It’s an alliance already based on mutual trust and friendship. He and I go way back.”

They were in the Alpha suite’s large bathroom, and Rex was leaning on the wall near the sink, watching his dad shave like he always did since he was a little boy. Watching his father was, after all, how he had learned to shave and do all other manner of things.

“Dad, I don’t think it’s a good idea. We don’t know where Saxe Oaks stands with Blue Ponderosa. I’m sure he’s heard of our problems with them. Don’t you think it’s weird that he didn’t mention it to you?”

“Nonsense. Chett is a man of even fewer words than me, but a case of Rojo will fix that. He’s a bourbon man, like you.”

“Dad,” Rex said. He felt worse about the idea of his father leaving him the more he thought about it. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do at this time? I mean, Thanksgiving is the day after tomorrow and all. Maybe you should wait until after, I dunno, after New Year’s to go. We can go together and I can meet his heir—whatever his name is.”

“Chett is a friend,” his dad responded wiping shaving cream off his face. “And his son’s name is Ronan; he’s about your age, I think. Unfortunately, I don’t know him well, but I’ll fix that this time around and let you know what I learn. You’ll have to work with him in years to come. Maverick is an ass and he’s not going to let go of his stupid war ideas any time soon. You’ll need Saxe Oaks to watch your back,” he said. He washed his face and dried it with the towel Rex handed him. “Anyway, Chett and me–we’ll probably drink through the night, get drunk, and I’ll be back by tomorrow night.”

“Can I come?” Rex handed his dad his favorite aftershave.

“Nah, he did invite you, but you’re in charge around here while I’m gone. Besides, didn’t you say you’re having problems with Saxe Oaks?”

Rex crossed his arms. “Yeah. Their potato harvest was meager this year; they wanted the same amount of money from other years for less product. Do you think that’s what this is really about? Money?”

“No,” Alpha Brian said. “Chet knows that I don’t mix pack business with distillery business, that you’re the one running the distillery. And this is a social call anyway.”

“Are you taking Enrique and Lance, then?”

“Just Lance and my usual guys. Enrique is staying in case you need support while I’m gone,” he said. He laughed. “Besides, Chett and Enrique never got along. They wanted the same she-wolf, but it turned out she was Enrique’s Fated Mate.”

Rex gaped at him. “How did that end?”

His dad shrugged. “Chett was fucking murderous at first, but he found his mate the following year and they all lived happily ever after.”

“What about Uncle Dylan or Uncle Marcel? You’re taking one of them?” Rex tried to hide his increasing worry, but it was almost impossible. His dad left the bathroom and Rex followed him into the spacious walk-in closet. He looked around. His mother’s clothes were still hanging on her side of the closet as if she had recently left them there.

“Hell, no,” Alpha Brian slipped on a denim, button-up shirt. “I don’t want to hear Dylan bitching all day about how hard it is being CEO of a distillery. Damn, that asshole can fucking whine. You were way younger than him when you took over the distillery, you’ve been taking on more and more responsibilities at the pack, and I’ve never heard you complain. I’m leaving Marcel because, besides Dylan’s saint of a mate, he’s the only one that can put up with Dylan’s shit and not lose his mind.”

Alpha Brian finished getting ready by putting on his Raiders ballcap and his favorite leather bomber jacket on his way out, but he paused by the door of his suite and turned to Rex.

“Son, I know you’re worried, but there’s nothing to worry about. Chett is a good friend and there isn’t a more loyal bastard out there,” he said. He embraced Rex in a strong hug. “I love you, son. Always remember that.”

It was the last time Rex saw his father alive.

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Author's Note

This is a sanitized version of the original chapter. If you are interested in reading this chapter in its original form, you are welcome to check out the addendum to this book: Another Half: the Dark Chapters. I am doing this because some people like depictions of violence, and other people do not.