Lessons in Love

Chapter 8: And the Jits Just Keep on Coming

POV: Riley Campbell

I stood on the edge of the forest in shabby clothes stretching. Rick was taking us on our first patrol, and I was both nervous and excited. Any excuse to be a wolf was a good one, but there were still threats to be mindful of around the pack territory. I took a deep breath in, smelling the forest, the orchards, the fields, and a scent that made my pulse quicken. I froze.

The scent was warm and comforting; utterly terrifying. I couldn’t describe it perfectly, but it smelled savory and sweet, like roasted apples and herbs I couldn’t quite pinpoint. There was a smokiness to it, like maybe the apples had been cooked on an open fire. I didn’t turn around. Or couldn’t. If I made eye contact with that smell, I knew I would be staring at my mate.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Campbell,” Rick said cheerfully behind me.

“Afternoon,” I tried not to sound as panicked as I felt. I turned around and saw Rick and Sam. Just them. It made no sense. I could smell another person. It wasn’t particularly strong, certainly not as strong as I would have expected it to be. I looked around the field and forest, but there was no one there but the three of us.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

I blushed and smiled. “Yes, of course. Ready to go!” I went for chipper, but it came out a little too excitable.

“Okay then,” Rick laughed. “Before I forget,” he handed me an envelope, and the smell of rosemary and apples hit me like a slap in the face. “Ben asked me to give this to you. It’s from Alpha Marcus.” He said, holding the letter out to me.

I didn’t move at first, afraid that the smell was going to get all over me and distract me on the patrol. I forced my hand to take the letter from him. “Ben?” I asked, setting the letter down on the clothing box next to me.

“The right honorable Beta Benjamin Westlake doth send his regrets,” Rick said with a silly voice and a flourish. “He had plans and wasn’t able to join us today. But the Alpha asked him to get that to you.” He smiled.

“Thanks,” I managed to say. I turned my back, pulled off my clothes, and shifted. I dumped my clothes in the box, gently brushing the letter into the box with the edge of my pants. And with that uncomfortable realization, we were off.

The patrol was quiet for the first hour. The closer to the border we got, the stronger the scent of a small group of Rogues became. The smell got stronger. So strong, we realized that there were likely more Rogues than three of us could handle. I wasn’t an official member of the pack, so I couldn’t mind-link with them. Sam and Rick could and were, clearly, mind-linking one another. I waited patiently until they looked at me. Sam tapped his paw on the ground twice and gestured with his snout to a patch of low shrubs. He tapped the ground again, then drew out some X’s and O’s, like a football play. I’d been trained well and understood the plan was for me to hide behind the shrubs, wait for the Rogues to pass me, then attack from behind. Sam would hide on the other side of the trail, and Rick would be the bait.

We got into position and waited. I heard rustling behind Rick. There was no way he didn’t hear it, but he didn’t react to it. I had to trust that he knew who was behind him. Moment’s later, six Rogues came into view. I got low and waited. They caught sight of Rick and started snarling and growling. Rick got low and growled back viciously.

The last Rogue was in front of me. I was supposed to wait until he’d passed, but with Rick in the path and the last Rogue’s buddies blocking him, this guy had nowhere to go. I felt a rage course through me that I wasn’t expecting. It was a deep-seated need to hurt the creature in front of me. Rogues are vicious and violent, I had no problem putting them down, but the hate I suddenly felt was almost impossible to control.

I was ready to pounce when the Rogue caught my scent and turned to the shrubs I was behind. I couldn’t wait any longer. I broke cover quickly and violently, grabbing the Rogue by the neck and pulling his throat out in a heartbeat. I felt a strong set of claws in my left shoulder and turned quickly to find a snarling set of teeth coming for my neck.

I curled in to protect myself and bit at the Rogue’s leg. I cut through the skin but didn’t get much of a reaction from him. He snapped at my side, but all he got was fur in his mouth. It gave me the chance to snap at him, get my paw up, and scrap his neck, pushing him backward. I backed up, too, giving myself the space, I needed to get low and wait. He’d attack me. There was enough going on behind him that he’d have to act fast.

He lunged forward at a low angle, and I scraped my claws down his face. With dirt and blood in his eyes, he didn’t see me inch forward and get under his neck. My jaw locked around him, and he started to thrash in vain, trying to get free. I tightened my grip, and slowly, he went limp. I dropped the Rogue the minute I smelled him dying and turned my attention to the rest of the group. I had been right about the noise behind Rick. It was clear the extra wolves were allies. The others finished off their kills, and just like that, the fight was over.

Rick walked up to me and sniffed my shoulder. My light grey fur was stained with blood, making the slashes look much more gruesome than they were. I saw the question about my well-being in his eye, and I nodded reassuringly. He sighed with relief and led us all back to the edge of the forest where we had begun our patrol.

POV: Beta Ben Westlake

I had just begun making dinner when this nervous energy invaded my thoughts. I felt excited, nervous, and a bit scared. I shook it off and focused on the food I was preparing. I preferred to host my parents for dinner rather than go to their house. I could control the flow of alcohol in my own home. I kept no alcohol in my suite. My father had caught on after a couple of dinners and started showing up with a few drinks already in his system. That, sadly, was a win. At least he wasn’t drunk.

I got everything in the oven and was setting the table when I heard the doorbell. I pulled my phone out to unlock the door, and I heard them come in at the sound of the lock disengaging. I finished setting the table and went to the living room. The stench of whiskey wafted off my father the minute I opened the door to the living room.

“I’ll need a couple of glasses.” He barked as he flopped down on the couch holding a bottle. My mother looked terrified, and I felt an all too familiar rage course through my body. I really hated him, I thought. I hated who he was, what he did, and that I had been powerless to stop him all these years. I wanted to shift and rip his throat out.

I took a deep breath and turned toward the kitchen. I grabbed a glass for him, even though I wanted to tell him he couldn’t have one. Giving him a glass would be better than watching him drink it straight from the bottle. I came into the living room and held the glass out in my left hand. I lost my grip on it as a sharp pain ripped through my shoulder.

“Watch it!” My father growled, managing to catch the glass.

“Are you alright?” My mother asked as I rubbed my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I smiled and shrugged. The pain was gone as quickly as it came on. “Must have a cramp.”

“Whatever,” my father said, pouring a liberal portion for himself. “I said glasses.” He made eye contact with me for the first time since walking in. “You have a cramp in your ear, too?” He glared.

I didn’t move at first, but the doorbell went off, and I went to open it. “Alpha Marcus,” I said in surprise. “Please come in. Is there something I can help you with?” I asked.

“You can get him a glass like I asked you to.” My father barked from the sofa. “He’s joining us for dinner.”