Fated for Two

Honey, I’m home,” Everard called out a week later as he walked in the door of the house. He heard Farrah laugh from the kitchen and headed that way. Poking his head in the door, he said, “I need a shower, scrub the grease off from the mess of oil changes I did today. Can I get a quick kiss though, and where is Brenton?”

Farrah lay the spoon she’d been stirring a pot of something with down and turned from the stove to face him. “Brenton said he’d be late. The rogues are apparently at it again, only this time they attacked patrol on the eastern border. I think he’s preparing his warriors for an attack. He seems to think it will be any day now and he wants them to be prepared.”

Everard nodded and said, “Well, today was my last day at the garage, so I’ll be able to go with him if he needs me now.”

Walking over to him, she gave him a kiss and murmured, “Good. Now go clean up because dinner will be on the table in ten minutes.”

“Not going to wait for your alpha?” Everard teased.

“Nope, I’m hungry,” Farrah answered as she headed back to the stove.

Everard chuckled and headed for the shower. Ten minutes later, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, he entered the kitchen to find Farrah and Brenton kissing. He teased, “Good evening, Alpha, don’t you know you’re supposed to eat your meal before having dessert?”

“Nope, I want my dessert first,” Brenton turned to say with a smirk. The smirk didn’t last though as a solemn look crossed his face and he said, “However, we should eat because my wolf has been on edge all day. The rogues seem to be on the move and our patrol has been battling them for a couple of days now. I think they’re testing our defenses, possibly in preparation for attacking soon.”

The smiles left the faces of Farrah and Everard at Brenton’s words.

“How soon?” Farrah finally asked in a whisper.

Brenton sighed and moved to pull plates from the cabinet as he replied, “Tonight is the full moon. Most say if battles are fought on the night of a full moon, the goddess herself will lend her strength to the ones fighting for justice.”

Farrah took the plates and began filling them one at a time and handing them to Brenton. He placed them on the table as Everard added glasses of tea.

Everard suddenly gave a snort as they all sat down and began to eat, asking, “They really think what they’re doing what’s right? Do they really believe they’re serving us justice? They aren’t, all they are is a bunch of thieving mutts out to take what doesn’t belong to them.”

“I know that, and so do you,” Brenton agreed. “However, in the mind of your uncle, one or both of us have stolen what should have been his and he wants it back. So, there will be a fight, tonight or another day, I don’t know, all I know is there will be one. That said, I took precautions and had those living in your pack-house moved into mine. We need everyone close so they’re easier to protect. Your older ones were placed in the new facility I had built for those mated couples who didn’t wish to be with the teens and singles.”

Everard nodded, murmuring, “That was a good idea, they’ll be better protected than they were off by themselves.”

“Well, let us eat and prepare ourselves mentally for a battle then,” Farrah said.

So, they ate in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts about what was to come.

The howl of alarm from the border patrol alerted the pack that someone had crossed the pack's borders. The howls after that alerted them that their border had been breached in multiple places and that they were under attack. It happened just after midnight.

Brenton and Everard both jumped out of the bed and ran for the door. Farrah sat up but sat frozen on the bed, wondering what had just happened.

“Farrah, get to the pack-house. Women and children will be dropped off there so the men can head out to fight!” Brenton shouted back at Farrah, who hadn’t moved, as he moved quickly down the stairs toward the front door.

“I will,” she shouted back as she shook off her shock. Then, jumping up, she pulled on clothes. She figured with her being alone, it would be safer for her to take Brenton’s truck than it would be to go as her wolf.

Both men were shifted into their wolves before their feet even left the porch. Howling into the night, they took off at a fast run.

Grabbing Brenton’s keys, Farrah ran to the truck and jumped in. She was soon at the pack-house which was in a state of chaos. Small children were screaming from being awakened in the middle of the night. The older children, who understood what was going on, were shaking in fear. Mothers were trying to calm them and battle their own fear for their mates at the same time.

Looking around and trying to decide what to do first, she noticed Elizabeth walking over.

“It’s madness,” Elizabeth said softly as she moved to stand next to Farrah.

Farrah took a deep breath, breathing out, “Yes, it is. Where do you even start trying to calm this chaos? I was just a kid when our pack was attacked. Mom and I hid in our secret cellar that Dad had made just for attacks. There were food and water, plumbing, and beds. Mom kept me busy playing games and we read books to pass the time.”

“How long were you there in the cellar?” Elizabeth asked.

“Three long days,” Farrah answered. “Then Dad came home and…”

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, she gulped air while pushing the tears back. “Dad told us that my brothers had been caught in an ambush. I remember Mom screaming and crying, begging it too not be true. That’s when we heard something upstairs. Dad went up to check, but Mom refused to stay behind and followed him.

"There were wolves in the house. One injured my dad badly, but he killed it. Then the one my mom was fighting took advantage of her pain over the sight of her mate being injured. The wolf almost killed Mom, but I’d followed them, hiding in the shadows with a knife in my hand. When I realized he was going to rip Mom’s throat out, I went nuts and somehow managed to kill him before he could kill her. My dad died in Mom’s arms that night. By the next day, when we finally crept out of the house, we realized our pack was destroyed.”

“Were the pack wars over?”

“No, it lasted almost another year, but with our pack destroyed. The attackers moved on from us, not bothering with the few of us that were left,” Farrah answered. “Enough about the past, we need to calm the masses now.”

Elizabeth nodded her agreement and asked, “Snacks?”

“Yes, and maybe some soothing music to calm the little ones enough for them to go back to sleep, maybe.”

“Yes, so… maybe some pallets and blankets?”

“Yes, excellent idea,” Farrah agreed. “Get a few of the teen girls, have them go to the laundry room with you and find some blankets, maybe some pillows too. That will keep them busy for a little bit. I’ll round up some of the young singles and get them to help me make snacks.”

“And the music?”

Farrah hummed as she looked around. That’s when she spotted him, a young teen boy with earbuds in, head-bopping to whatever he was listening to. “Him, he has music.”

“Probably not what anyone will want to hear,” Elizabeth muttered as she turned, ready to go do as she’d been told.

“Maybe not, but he might know where to get some,” Farrah said as she headed toward him. Kneeling, she tapped the boy on an upraised knee. When his head jerked up, she asked, “Hi, I’m Farrah, can you help me with something?”

His eyes were wide as he stared at her silently. Finally, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, he nodded and said, “Yes, Lady Alpha, I’ll help you.”

“I need some soothing music that will help calm everyone, well, the best they can be calmed in these circumstances,” Farrah murmured.

He tilted his head and said, “And how could I help you with that?”

“Well, since you have music going, I thought maybe you might help me find a way to play some in here.”

He looked around and hummed before saying, “I seem to recall my dad saying there are speakers in the ceiling for dances and things they used to have here.”

“Your dad?”

He turned to look at her, ’Yeah, my dad is the lead warrior, Richard. Oh, and I’m Richie.”

Farrah laughed softly as they stood up and he began to walk. She asked, “Are you a junior then?”

“I am,” Richie agreed, his cheeks turning pink.

“So, where are we going?”

“There is a sound room down this hall,” Richie told her as he reached a door. Jiggling the handle, he frowned, “Locked.”

“Use your foot,” Farrah suggested.

He turned and looked at her wide-eyed, asking, “You want me to break the door in?”

“Look, we need something to calm those kids out there, I think a broken door is the least of our problems right now,” Farrah told him.

Turning back to the door he muttered, “Yeah, you’re probably right, but I’m still gonna make sure Alpha knows it was your idea. Let’s just hope it’s a flimsy door.”

“You’re a werewolf, you have the strength even if you are young,” Farrah informed him.

“Then you do it, at least you won’t get in trouble for it,” Richie told her.

“I would, but…” she huffed. “Oh, fine, I’ll do it!” So, backing up she took a deep breath and kicked out like they had taught her in training. The door gave like a knife through butter. She smirked and said, “Well, that was easy. Come along young man, we have some babies to put back to sleep.”

Then the two of them stepped into the room full of sound equipment.

Brenton and Everard ran as fast as they could toward the border. Once there, along with all the warriors that had met up with them on the way, they found a fight had already commenced. Joining in, they made sure to have each other’s backs and fought together to defeat the rogues.

Brenton began noticing, however, that most of the rogues didn’t smell like wild rogues. Instead, they smelled of a pack, a pack he felt he should know, but couldn’t quite place. Shaking off those thoughts, he continued to fight, always on the lookout for the alpha rogue.

Everard fought hard but was quickly tiring. The battle had slowed though, and it seemed as if the tide had turned in his and Brenton’s favor. Now it was just a matter of finding and killing the rogue alpha and the battle would be won.

Tearing out the throat of yet another rogue, Brenton glanced around. He noticed most of the rogues were dead or had run. So, he let out a howl that told his pack to step it up and end the bloodshed. He took a moment to glance over at Everard and could tell he was tiring. Sure, he was eating more and putting on weight, but he still didn’t have his muscle mass back, and almost having his stomach torn out recently hadn’t helped. He still seemed to be holding his own though, so Brenton turned his attention back to the fight.