Finding the Missing Lycan Princess

The Past Remembered

Marcus

The house smelled of Clint and Marcia, scents that triggered conflicting emotions in the young Alpha, but the worst part was the framed drawings hung around the room. They were all scenes from the pack, images of him and Clint, and all members of the pack. Each is a single perfect moment in time preserved on paper. Next to him, he heard Jackson let out the quietest of whines as he too looked upon the display. It was clear that Clint had done all he could to take the pack with him in his heart. Had they just known where he was, they could have brought him home five years ago when the old Alpha had died.

Their eyes flashed as they tried to take in all of the drawings, recognizing different current and past pack members. The scenes themselves were not of momentous occasions or formal gatherings, they were scenes from regular days. It was painful to realize that this was all he had of the life he had grown up in.

Marcia saw the way that Clint's drawings affected these two men but they triggered a question that she had to ask, one that would determine her actions going forward. “Did you know?” Marcia held her breath as she watched the golden eyes turn on her. Cain had never known if his brother knew the true reason he was asked to leave home, or how he would react if he did. Marcia believed that fear of his reaction was what kept Cain from reaching out. Cain struggled every day being away from his family, but what kept him connected was the stories he would tell about his brother and others in their community. If he had reached out and Marcus had pushed him away, it would have finally killed him.

He didn’t have to ask for clarification on her question, but he did have to watch his words until he knew the relationship she had with his brother, and what she knew about them. To stall, he picked up a picture of him and Jackson. They were about five years old and were covered with mud from head to toe and laughing like loons. He unknowingly smiled, handing the picture to Jackson as they both remembered sneaking out to play after a major storm. It had been slippery and Clint had told them that they could not leave the packhouse for safety reasons. They had both fallen into a deep mud pit before they had even crossed the yard and it had been Clint that found the two scared pups. He pulled them both free and in the process fell face-first into the mud himself. This image was what he had seen when he had sat up. It was one of many happy memories Marcus had with his older brother. Growing up, Clint cared for him and kept him out of trouble, teaching him how to be a good person as well as what an Alpha should be. In every way that mattered to him, Clint had been his father, not the Alpha who claimed them both.

Turning to Marcia, he answered the only way he could. “I was not old enough to understand, or care, I just knew he was my brother, my hero. Yes, I know why our father drove him away, and this knowledge haunts me every day. He should never have left, more people would have supported him than he realized.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “When he left I was told he died in a hunting accident. I never suspected this was a lie or I would have moved heaven and earth to find him. Even if his trail had been fresh, no one could out track, or out hide Clint, but that would not have stopped me from trying. His leaving left a hole in my heart.” The despair at losing his brother was evident in his voice.

“He never stopped talking about you, but he never used your real name, you were his Scrappy. In the evenings when he sketched, we would sit in the living room and he would tell me stories of the trouble you would get into or talk about how proud he was. It sounded like he was a father more than an older brother. He loved you so much.” The quiet words threatened to be his undoing as he fought for composure.

Suddenly, he was drowning in her scent as she walked closer, leaning past him to pick up another drawing. This one was him as a toddler sleeping with his head on the side of a large gray wolf that was watching over him. While he had been too young to remember this, it must have been shortly after Clint learned to turn when he was six. Most wolves turned at ten or even twelve, but the more powerful the wolf, the sooner they tended to change. Marcus himself turned for the first time at five, a fact that Clint had bragged about around the Pack for months. “I think your love of wolves and his need to care for those in trouble are why he started this sanctuary. He could no longer take care of you, so instead, he found others that needed his care, starting with wolves. Later, he found me on the side of the road and took me in, much like the other stray animals.”

This comment proved his suspicion that she had no clue what they were. The way she spoke about his love of wolves, not his love for others of his species. In the back of his mind, Dax was restless, hating to be so close to his mate but unable to touch her. “Mine, my Mate. Hold mate she is sad. His words reflected the way Marcus felt about the situation, but he knew that it was not going to be that simple.

Looking at her, Marcus stepped closer, using her proximity to try and calm Dax. Careful not to touch her, Marcus drew in her comforting presence as he came to grips with the new facts he was being faced with. He had found his mate after all these years. She was beautiful and special but she was human, and that meant that it would not be as easy as most meetings. He would have to be very careful not to scare her, but he was never letting her go. She had already stolen his heart and he would never get it back.

From next to him, Jackson cleared his throat, attempting to break the tension in the room. “I think you two need to speak in private.” The words were directed at both of them but the look he gave Marcus was clearly a warning not to screw up this chance. “If you do not mind Ma’am I would like to go check on the wolves.” When he saw the hesitation in her eyes Jackson quickly added, “I have had the privilege of assisting in wolf rescue for years. I trained with Clint at our home.”

With a small smile, he pointed to the picture of the boys in the mud pile. “I started training around the time that this picture represents and have spent every day of my life around wolves.” The partial lie slipped seamlessly from his lips. While he had never worked in a wolf rescue, he had been called to assist with injured many times in the past.

While most Betas took over for their fathers and trained from childhood, Jackson had planned on following in his father's footsteps and becoming the next pack doctor. These plans changed when Marcus challenged the previous Alpha for control of the pack. The Beta at the time, Jackson’s uncle Ralph, and his son Roger had supported the previous Alpha, refusing to consider Marcus as their Alpha. Once he had won and the previous Alpha lay dead, they had both left the pack in shame, unwilling to follow a young leader who refused to maintain the status quo.

Both Marcus and Jackson had been happy when they left because they knew the level of depravity Ralph had been capable of and they knew that there was no way either man would have supported the more accepting pack. If either man had stayed, they would have been looking over their shoulders waiting for one or both of them to try to take the title of Alpha.

Jackson wanted the chance to see the shifters in the barn and assess their condition. Given their little information, he did not want to be there any longer than they needed to be. If they were well enough to shift, he wanted to find out the real story behind this sanctuary and what Clint had been doing there. If they weren't, he would do whatever he could to stabilize them for transport to bring them back to Blue Moon as soon as possible.