“Would you ignore the call of the moon gods?” she asks.
“No but…” My head is swimming. Themoon gods? Is that who’s calling to me? “How did you know about that?”
“The powers you have are great,” Mal says. “But they are not unique. Every wolf is capable of accessing the greater consciousness of wolfkind. But it is a skill that takes discipline and practice. Back in your pack system those skills have been all but bred out of existence, kept from you by leaders who wish to control and subjugate their people. But here in this sanctuary we encourage every wolf to develop their ability to connect to their neighbors, to access the great connection shared between all wolves.”
“If…” I try to speak but have to stop to clear my throat. “If these abilities have been suppressed in me then why do I have them?”
“The blood moon awoke something inside you, something latent and powerful. It must have sensed a desire in you.”
“A desire?” What, like a wish?
“Yes.” Mal nods sagely. “An unspoken yearning for something more. So now your ability to connect is unmatched. And it is a skill that could be used to improve the lives of wolves the world over. You have been given a gift, Max, an amazing gift.”
I huff. “Some gift. If I wanted a constant migraine I’d have asked someone to drop an anvil on my head.”
“You are closed off,” she continues. “That is the source of your discomfort.”
“Discomfort?” She has no idea. “Discomfort is sitting for too long without a cushion. Discomfort is not knowing what to say when you’re being forced to speak with some old noblewolf. Discomfort is…is your mate ignoring you. Try brain-melting agony. Try an electric drill piercing my skull. You have no idea about discomfort!”
Okay, I didn’t mean to rant, but she’s got me all worked up. As if I could have avoided all the headaches and the pain by simply being more open to the connection. All those voices, all those wolves, that’s why blood wolves have a bad reputation, that’s why they go insane. I had to close myself off to protect myself.
“Maybe not,” Mal says gently now, kindly. “But Max, we can help you.”
“How?” I say, a little too bluntly.
Her face looks less stern now, and she extends an open palm, as if she’s offering to help me up after a fall.
“Every rogue who passes through our community is given the chance to explore their inner wolf. Our spiritual practices are designed to help wolves who feel disconnected from their own kind find a way back. We can help you too—help you to open up, relieve your pain, and help you to connect.”
Connect?
Isn’t that what Jasper and I have been trying to do? Isn’t that what I’ve wanted since I figured out there was more to being a wolf than the confines of a pack? Connection to something bigger. When I discovered just how many queer wolves were out there I began to see the truth of our kind. That we’re all valid and connected. One pack under the moon. Is Mal offering to help me find that?
“We can help you harness your power, help you open your mind. If you stay with us a short while we can show you all that you are capable of.”
Stay here awhile? How long is a while? Does it even matter? There’s no way Jasper will go for this. But what if she’s right? Every wolf that arrived at our camp this morning was able to block me from sensing their presence. If that’s what the rogues’ spiritual guidance can accomplish in a wolf without my blood-moon abilities, what could I do with my enhanced skills? Maybe I could stop these headaches, figure out who is calling me, figure out what I’m supposed to do with this strange gift, and maybe even mind-link with Jasper.
For a moment I chew my thumbnail and think over this proposition. The council waits and watches me, patient and silent. Finally, I let out a sigh.
“What will it be, Blood Wolf?” Mal asks.
“I want to learn from you,” I say without thinking. “There’s just one problem…”
“The child alpha.”
“Yes,” I say. “Jasper. He’s my mate, I can’t force him to stay here if he doesn’t want to.”
“If he truly cares for you he will do what’s best.”
I look up at her from under my bangs. She may have got my number, but she doesn’t know Jasper at all.
“Hey,” I say, squinting in the sunlight with a hand held over my eyes. After I left the council’s tent I found Jasper outside kicking the dirt with his hands shoved firmly in his pockets. There’s no sign of Omar or the wolves who brought us here.
“Hey,” he says. “Ready to go?”
“I, uh…I…”
“What is it?” he stops kicking dust up and comes to me with a look of concern etched on his face. “What happened in there?”
