Rise of an Alpha Female (Two Moons Book 1) Read online

"You just what? Acted like a spoiled little girl? How about the fact that you should respect your elders, your betters, your pack members? Though I look forward to the day I shall call you my Alpha, that day is not yet here. So you should and will respect me and everyone else for that matter. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Master at Arms, perfectly."

  "Good. Now get up," he says, removing himself from the crouched position.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Back to..."

  "Didn't you say you have questions?"

  "Yes, but I thought... "

  "Then go ahead and ask your damned questions! If you think you've calmed down enough, that is."

  She squints her eyes for a moment, trying to smell or hear if he is honest.

  "What the hell was that?"

  "That meaning..." Conall says.

  "During the Ceremony, you singled me out."

  "And your point is?"

  "Why? And then you called me a mere female!"

  "I had something to say. And I'm pretty sure you are a female."

  "That's not what I... Arghhh, never mind. But then you said – and she air quoted – 'her performance as a warrior brawler was adequate'. I mean what the fcuk?!? I was the best brawler in the group, and you know it. Hell everybody knows it!"

  "Mhmm. I did say that. I also distinctly remember saying you were above average. So if everyone was average and you were occasionally above average – I really see no difference in what you are saying."

  "You are so, so... " she says, growling again, looking for the proper word.

  "Either you calm down and act like the adult you supposedly are, or this conversation is over," he says, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

  Jena takes a few deep breaths. She is not happy, and neither is her wolf, though Lana is a lot more reserved with her opinions about the Master at Arms. In her respect for the much older wolf, she almost wishes he was their mate. Or at least their mate was a lot like him.

  "And since when is a brawler designated as a Pack Diplomat? That is unheard of!"

  "It's complicated."

  "What the hell it's that supposed to mean? It's MY LIFE you are playing with! I was the best brawler; I should have been assigned at least to the Home Guard, if not to the Personal Guard section."

  "I guess you do have a right to know."

  "Damn right I do! Change my assigned position!"

  "I can't."

  "You mean you don't want to! Did I do something wrong? Have I offended you in any way? If I did, I'm sorr... "

  "No. I mean I can't."

  "What do you mean you can't? You are the one assigning the positions, the Beta only reads them. So assign me to the Personal Guard. Or at least the Home Guard."

  "Only Brawlers can be assigned to the Personal Guard, and you have to be at least a pack warrior for the Home Guard. So I can't. It's not allowed."

  "You said I qualified for the brawler role. So I don't understand what the problem is!"

  "Stop raising your voice at me! I'm not one of your friends, nor am I your training group mate. I did say that, though I shouldn't have said it. But that is my issue to deal with. Did you hear your role called along with your assigned position?"

  Jena gasps, realizing that...

  "He only... he only said 'Jena – assigned Pack Diplomat'. He... he never actually called out any role along with my name. No role. I am nothing. It's the same as failing the entire training program."

  "Not true. You are Jena Abbyline Rork, first daughter of Alpha Magnus Rork of the Oasis Pack, Pack Diplomat and one day Alpha of the Oasis Pack."

  "Yeah, right. And what is this crap with the Pack Diplomat? No diplomat ever needed to go through warrior training. There's never been a diplomat coming out of warrior training. Any well-spoken wolf can become a Pack Diplomat if endorsed by a high-ranking wolf or the majority of elders. Why did you assign me like that?"

  "I never said I did."

  "BUT YOU – OK, not yelling, but you are the one assigning the roles and positions."

  "In your case, I was overruled."

  "Everybody knows that you can't be forced to do anything you don't want to."

  "Unless it was a direct command."

  "Lindator? Why would he... "

  "Oh please, like that... wolf could ever order me around."

  "NO!"

  "I'm sorry, Jena."

  "He wouldn't!"

  "He did."

  "But MY FATHER WOULD NEVER do that to me!"

  "I'm afraid he had to."

  Jena's eyes are brimming with tears; her wolf is howling in the back of her mind.

  "Please explain," she says between sobs.

  "I can't," – Jena wants to say something, but he continues – "let me finish, please. I can't, but I will tell you a story. Take it as you will."

  Conall sits down comfortably and motions her to do the same.

  "In a theoretical pack, much like this one, where the Alpha had a daughter but no sons, the Alpha decides one day to enroll her daughter into warrior training which is unheard of for a future Luna, since it doesn't seem he will ever have a son to pass down the Alpha position.

  "The elders oppose it, but he convinces them that it is only for her protection, and some training couldn't hurt anyone. He also promises that as soon as his daughter finds her mate and future Alpha of the pack, all training will stop.

  But she doesn't find her mate in time, so she finishes warrior training. Not only that, but she is a damn good brawler as well.

  The Elders are afraid she will endanger herself. They have repeatedly tried to have her removed from the training either by talking to the Alpha or trying to order the Master at Arms to remove her from the program, but with no success.

  One day, they summon the Alpha and the Master at Arms and force the Alpha's hand into denying the brawler role for his daughter. They only accept a support role assigned to the Home Guard, arguing that is the best way to keep her safe and away from any danger. They remind him of the favor he owes them for letting her go through the warrior training in the first place.

  In the story, the Alpha calls the favor even and commands his Master at Arms to deny his daughter the brawler role. Even more, he forbids him to ever assign her a role for as long as he lives and calls for the assigned position to be Pack Diplomat.

  The elders try to argue, but the Alpha says they have no favors left to dangle over him. Besides, as the Pack Diplomat, she will be assigned a wolf from the Personal Guard section, and if she ever leaves with a delegation on pack business, she will have a security detail to accompany her, not to mention going under the protection of the inter-pack law which specifies clearly that diplomats are inviolable.

  So, I hope you like my story. It was completely made up" – he pulls out a pouch from inside his vest and takes a swig, smiling – "by a drunken wolf."

  "I see," Jena says.

  Her face is now void of emotion.

  "Funny thing is, diplomats only answer to their Alpha, and once outside their home territory, they kind of become the Alpha of the group they are with. They can also pretty much decide where to go and how to represent their pack when making contact with other packs, as long as they don't disrespect the orders given to them by their Alpha.

  So no answering to the elders, no other higher wolves to worry about. Diplomats run their own show. Not to mention having the best chances to find their mates since they travel so much," Conall finishes.

  "I understand the story now, Master at Arms. Thank you for sharing with me. I'll keep it to myself since it sounds pretty far-fetched," she smiles knowingly at the older wolf.

  "Good girl! Meet me tomorrow before sunrise, three miles beyond the Windy Rock," Conall adds, winking at her.

  "OK." That sounds odd, she thought to herself. "But why?"

  "Well in the story, you know that part about as soon as his daughter finds her mate and future Alpha of the pack, all training will stop? I'm just making sure the Alpha keeps his promise. So
me things are not learned in warrior training."

  Chapter 3 - Primings

  "So why are we here Conall? You have any idea how far from the living areas this place is? I've been running in wolf form for close to an hour. Not that my wolf didn't enjoy it, but still."

  "About the distance, that was exactly the point. And isolated area, so much so that even patrols don't come this far out."

  "So are you going to kill me now, since we are alone and nobody can hear me scream? Cause I will defend myself, you know!"

  "I would expect nothing less. Although I'm not sure if you're serious or not by asking that."

  "I'm joking, of course... kind of."

  "He will not. I will not allow it," a new male voice interrupts.

  "Alastair? What are you doing here?" Jena asks. "And could you cover yourself, please? That's a disturbing sight."

  "I was hoping distracting, not disturbing would be a better term. You don't like my looks?" He says, flexing his arms and grinning like a madman.

  "Not interested. Now put some clothes on, you fool!"

  "Hey! Unlike you, I didn't plan on being here, so I didn't pack a wolf harness so I can go running in the desert and camp out. I just had to shadow you, but you just came out of your house and bolted."

  "But why were you following me, anyway? Don't you have something better to do? Like your job doing whatever you got as an assignment?" Jena asks, with a hint of jealousy in her voice.

  "For your information, I'm doing exactly that!"

  "Which is?"

  "I'm a Personal Guard," he says smugly.

  "So? Go protect something then!"

  "Like I said, I am. And it's not something; it's someone."

  "Well, I'm pretty sure Conall doesn't need protecting. So are you expecting someone else to arrive?"

  "No."

  "You can't mean..."

  "Yes."

  "No! I'm a brawler too, and I could totally take your ass."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, I'm just here doing my job of watching over one of the Pack's Diplomats. Which, incidentally, happens to be you. So next time you feel like running off, let me know, and I'll bring a spare change of clothes."

  "You little, arrogant prick! I should wipe that smile off your face with a fist of sand..."

  "If you kids are done quarreling like a couple of lovebirds, we could maybe get back to it," Conall interrupts.

  "We're not..." Alastair says.

  "Anything. He is totally not my type!" Jena says as well.

  "Yeah, I'm not her type... wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means what I said. Not my type. Ever."

  "Well, why not? What's not to like about me? I'm a good fighter, and I've been told I'm good looking, many times I might add," he says, batting his eyelashes at her.

  Jena steps closer to Alastair.

  "Maybe. Though I believe your opinion about your looks is greatly exaggerated.

  So unless the Moons decided to transform you into my other half since the last time I handed your ass to you on the training mat..."

  She inches ever closer to him as she says this, then proceeds to take an exaggerated sniff at him.

  "And like I thought, your only scent is still that of a sweaty dog.

  You are not my type.

  Ever."

  Turning around, she heads over to where the Master at Arms is bent over a rather large chest.

  "So why am I really here?"

  "Because your Alpha training is just beginning. From now on you will come here every morning before sunrise except on Sundays. Be sure to bring your books on Pack Relations, Diplomacy and Interpack Law every time and if anyone asks, you are going to your quiet spot to study. I'm sure Alastair will confirm that to any interested parties."

  "I will? I mean of course I will, Master at Arms," Alastair says quickly.

  "Oh, and Jena?"

  "Yes?"

  "You will run the distance in human form."

  "But that is so much slower; it will take me three times as much."

  "Then you'd better learn to run faster... and on just two legs. As your time gets closer to how fast you got here in wolf form, your wolf will become quicker as well. Now put this suit on and start warming up."

  Jena groans as she takes the full body suit from the Master at Arms, surprised by how heavy it is.

  "What the hell is this? Not even Full Personal Guard Body Armor is this heavy."

  "Of course not. That is for babies. This is made out of enchanted spider-silk from a green tree-hopper spider from the mountain forests on the other side of Calla," Conall says, indicating the suit.

  "Not only is that type of material a thing of legends, but it's supposed to be lighter than a feather. This feels like I'm wearing my house." Jena says as she finishes putting on the strange looking suit, noticing she can barely move.

  "It's actually made out of two layers interconnected with spider-silk thread as well. In the one inch space between the layers, you are wearing approximately 140 pounds of crushed stone."

  "Ha, ha, you sure are a big girl now, Jena!" Alastair says with a chuckle.

  "Shut up!"

  "Both of you shut up!" Conall says with authority. "Jena, run East until you get to the yellow flag, then turn around and run back West past this camp to the red flag. Then back. Until I tell you to stop."

  "Damn, sucks to be you right now!" Alastair says.

  "Alastair, follow her around and make sure she gets there. If she falls, help her up. If she can't walk anymore, you will help her until I tell her to stop. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Master at Arms!"

  ***

  Only for the first lap is Jena able to manage an awkward run, then walking the next two.

  "I can't do this anymore. It's not normal. It's impossible."

  She collapses on her knees, crying.

  "Common, I'll help you. Put your arm around my shoulder. You know Conall has his reasons. And he's always been fair to us in the past," Alastair says, helping her up.

  So they start going again, but on the fifth lap, he is forced to pick her up while still in the training suit and do the lap for her. As he is about to start the sixth, panting, Conall stops them:

  "Enough for today..."

  "Oh thank the Moons!" Alastair exclaimes.

  "...with the laps. You have somewhere to be, Alastair?"

  "No, sir!"

  "Then shut up! You get five minutes to rest. Then, Jena, take a regular defense stance and get your boyfriend here to attack you. You get to stop at 10 o'clock. If I see you stop for more than a minute between attacks, that adds 10 more minutes of repeating the move."

  ***

  Jena has stopped crying about an hour earlier when Conall asked her if she wouldn't like to just quit the nonsense about Alpha training and become daddy's pampered princess like everyone expects, ready to be married off to a strong and proper Alpha, preferably one the Elders would choose for her.

  She still doesn't seem to want to give up. Of course, Conall's earlier question contributes greatly to her current level of determination.

  She feels bruised all over, and she probably is; the training suit has no real protection value and only makes her reflexes slower because of the added weight.

  A couple of times Alastair tried to take it easy on her, so Conall slapped him across the head so hard, Jena though his eyes might pop out.

  She has lost track of time and is now going through the motions mechanically.

  She manages to block an attack for every four or five that go through, and that's because she moves before the attack actually comes since Alastair has settled into a certain pattern, making it occasionally predictable. And yet Conall seems to be oblivious to the obvious cheat.

  "It's 10:40. Penalty overtime is done. I'll see you tomorrow before sunset. Sleep on it and consider your choice. You either decide to continue the Alpha training and commit to it for the long run or don't bother coming at all.

  I'm sure there
is a strong male somewhere ready to swoop in and save you from your duties as Alpha to the pack. Lunas are almost as important, taking care of the babies and the sick and organizing parties and whatever else one does.

  By the way, human form on the way back. I don't care if you run or walk.

  Consider your options well and don't disappoint me. You are both dismissed."

  The road back home is the longest she has ever taken. Alastair has already offered to carry her several times, but Jena just ignored him.

  She used to think that working to be the best fighter in the pack was the hardest she ever had to train. She was obviously wrong.

  As they enter the settlement, they are greeted by one of the female Elders.

  "Good morning, Jena! I've been looking for you for some time now. Where have you been?"

  "Out finding a quiet study spot, then studying, ma'am," Alastair answers quickly.

  "And who might you be? Her boyfriend?" The woman asks.

  "No ma'am! I am Diplomat Jena's Personal Guard, ma'am."

  "I see. Well Trainee Diplomat Jena, while I do appreciate your desire to study, you should have come to me first. But I will just assume you were not informed. Since you are already two hours late over the fourteen hours mark when I want to begin, you will just have to study on your own some more tonight."

  The Elder looks at Jena with a critical eye, appearing to evaluate her by sight alone.

  "Tomorrow at fourteen hundred come by my office so we can start your lessons. For your information, we will start with an evaluation of what you managed to learn today by yourself, so I know how much effort I have to exert into making you a passable Diplomat."

  "Yes, Elder Amisha," Jena answers for the first time.

  "I'm not done. Don't interrupt. Here is a quick lesson, so the day isn't completely wasted: A Diplomat's first lesson is to shut up and listen. Wars have been started on account of some ignorant fool speaking out of term. Listening, WITHOUT INTERRUPTING is one of the highest forms of respect one might give to another. As for you being late, for every hour that you delay, you will spend two additional hours overtime to compensate. Be late too much or too often and I will wash my hands of you, and you can go study Diplomacy with that imbecile Ricardo since none of the other Diplomats wanted to get involved with you after what the Elders said. Oh and leave your brutish friend outside; don't want him coming in and breaking something. Have a nice day!" She adds sweetly and sounding sincere as if nothing of the earlier reproval was ever said.