Forest Pack book I: A Wolf's curse
In the aftermath of a devastating wolf war, a lone pup called Nashoba battles for survival. The victim of a horrific accident that left her with an electric curse, she burned her family down just by touching them. Now, when she stumbles upon the survivors of a ravaged pack, she must face the nightmare within herself to spare the tatters of their hearts that remain.
Read the prologue Below!
The Bolt from the Blue
Warmth. Lovely knew only warmth, and softness, and milk. She gulped it down by the mouthful from her mother’s teat. It was rich and full, the sweet taste coating her tongue in a thick film. She felt her mother tremble and whisper something to Father. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“They’re perfect,” Father’s voice pounded into the whelp’s form, even soft as it was. She felt his tongue slide across her fur, a streak of warmth quickly replaced by the biting cold. She whimpered for another lick, but he merely spoke. “Are you sure they’re both females?”
“That’s okay, right?” Mother’s voice wavered. “They’ll be strong; I’ll teach them. Just two… a small litter-”
“They’re perfect,” Father repeated.
Lovely was pushed back as her mother’s breath settled. A noise sounded beside her: a whimpering that must be her sister.
“Tender’s all done,” Father chuckled. “I’m right sick of calling them by their birth-names, Eyotte. It’s high time they had true-names, wolf names.”
“Pack names,” Mother growled, shaking the den floor. “You just want to do your ridiculous ceremony. I’m not going to sit here and howl to Glory and expect some supernatural message telling me what to name my own daughters.”
“I would never expect that,” Father murmured. “We can name them ourselves, without a Glory-call. Whatever you think is best, my dear.”
“Are you sure they’re ready? Lovely hasn’t even opened her eyes yet.” A whimper edged Mother’s words.
Eyes? Was Mother talking about those squirmy things beneath the skin on her face? Were they supposed to do something besides leak whenever she forgot to breathe between swallows of milk? A sudden rumble hurt Lovely’s ears. It shook the whole den, threatening to tear her away from the gentle voices, warm fur, and slow, rhythmic licks that pressed her down into a careless comfort not even milk could bring. She let go of the teat in her mouth to whimper for Mother’s tongue.
“Don’t fret, Lovely,” Mother murmured. That trusty tongue caressed Lovely’s face. She breathed in the sweet scent of milk and nuzzled closer against Mother’s fur, melting into the touch. “Thunder and lightning are nothing more than futile attacks of Cerberus. Nothing to be afraid of as long as we are safe in here.”
“Glory’s rain will silence him,” Father rumbled.
Lovely was not afraid, only startled. Still, she whimpered again, feigning fear to assure the warm licks continued.
“How about you name Lovely,” Mother said. “And I will name Tender. I think I have the perfect name picked out for her: Abequa.”
“Abequa That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
“Close to home,” said Mother, and Abequa’s giggle echoed off the den walls. Mother must be nuzzling her in that special spot on her tummy. “She’s always snuggled right up next to me and never wants to leave. My little Abequa. I know she’d never turn her back on this family, or this forest.”
Father was silent after that, and a warm roll of thunder caused Lovely’s hackles to fluff out in little prickles of fur along her back. Why was she reacting in such a way? She could not look cowardly; what if Father named her something that meant ‘scared’, or ‘weak’? She forced her hackles flat.
“I’m not sure,” Father said with a hum. “I will have to think about it. It needs to be perfect for her.”
“She’s a plucky little thing,” chuckled Eyotte. “Just about any strong-sounding name will do.”
Lovely tried to lift her head and let out a satisfied yip.
“No, not just any name,” said Father. “Let me sleep on it.” There was a thump as he lay down.
Great! Now it was time to go out into the storm! Lovely planted her big paws and was discouraged to find she could not lift herself off the ground. She felt Father’s jaws close around her scruff, his teeth gently poking into her skin, sweet scent cascading all around her. The chill bristled through her fur as she was whipped around and placed next to the dusty, crumbling den wall. The dirt floated up her nose and a sneeze blew her backwards. Mother and Father began to laugh, and she shot them a high-pitched growl that was abruptly cut off by a roll of thunder. Her fur fluffed out again.
Father laughed again. “Don’t be afraid whirlwind, Cerberus cannot reach this world. You’re safe.”
Lovely whimpered for a lick and heard Abequa follow, a gentle chorus calling the warmth of Mother’s tongue to their backs. Lovely never wanted the feeling to end, but the cool draft that whipped through her ruff wasn’t as horrible as she’d expected.
Lovely crawled towards her family’s warmth and was swept into the familiar embrace of fur on all sides. It didn’t remove the curiosity of the rumbles beyond the den, but any discomfort within her tiny body evaporated as soon as she was swaddled by fur. Their scents filled her nose: Father’s sweet, Mother’s milky, and Abequa’s dusty from crawling around just like her. This time, it didn’t make her sneeze. It only drew her to snuggle deeper, burrowing into the living comfort. The noises of them, the beats beneath their fur and the soft shift of their breathing, stole all fears from her mind. She was here, and she belonged here. Here was home, family, warmth.
She felt the flex of Father’s throat beneath her forepaws, Abequa’s tail coiled around her haunch, Mother’s flank against her own. Father’s slightly rougher tongue ran over her head, and she couldn’t fight a yawn. Still, it felt strange to go to sleep when she did not have a true-name yet.
“Finally, finally safe,” Mother said.
As the evening wore on, the den was surrounded by noise. The wild howls of the wind, and the roaring of the sharp-scented earthy milk called water. Lovely lay snuggled against Abequa, Father, and Mother, but she was awakened by a brilliant flash of light. It was the most spectacular thing she had ever seen. It was the only thing she had ever seen.
The flashes grew brighter and more frequent, and she couldn’t help raising her head a bit with each one. Growls of thunder rolled between them, not like the lazy rumble that resembled the snores of her family. It was an exciting sound, a sudden crash that caused her fur to stand up and her whole body to feel like it was about to burst. She had to hear that sound again. She needed to get closer.
She couldn’t stand or move fast and far like her parents, but she could crawl on her belly. She had felt warm sunshine at the mouth of the den before, but this was something new. As soon as her paw met the grass, water was pouring onto her. It kind of hurt, but she remembered she was brave. She shook because she was brave.
There was the flash again! A blaze of red against her eyelids! It called to her, and she drug herself closer to where she thought it had come from. Her paws slipped about the water, and she began to wonder if she should call for help. Father would know what to do. Or he would drag her back to the den and force her to dream forever of the unknown flashes. A distant sound rose alongside the wind: voices, multiple voices weaving together. The harmonies flowed through her tiny ears and into her veins. Where one dipped, another rose, knowing exactly what pitch to strike to create the perfect song. As if in opposition to the fierce wind, they sang from somewhere in the distance. The caw of a bird echoed somewhere above her. Water was landing on her nose, and the chill was biting through her thin pelt. She whimpered, but the flashes and the mysterious song beckoned her onward. There was a chant embedded their cries: “home, home, home.”
With each push and pull Lovely inched closer to a sound of rushing even fiercer than song or storm. She reached out a paw and felt nothing.
Thunder cracked again. It gripped her heart, and she yowled in terror, scrabbling and falling forward into nothing but water. She moved every part of her that moved but there was no ground, nothing but rushing and noise and fear, and she screamed for help as loudly as she could. Water was forced down her throat and her tiny body convulsed. Her lungs clawed for air, choking her, but she did not know which way was up.
Then there was a final blaze of light, and a crash.
A terrible pain ripped through Lovely, jamming into her neck and searing every nerve. All the noise silenced; there was nothing but a ringing. She couldn’t see anything but blue. She couldn’t move anymore. The pain lit up her entire body and she was floating above it, not here, not here…
She became aware she was howling first. Howling in agony. She couldn’t hear herself, but she could feel her voice burning in her chest. Her heart was… different…
Something else was different too: she could see. As she floated along her eyes had drifted open, and all around her there were red petals. Flowers? Why couldn’t she smell them? Why couldn’t she smell anything but this hot stench of pain?
At last, ground was beneath her, and though she was covered in water she wasn’t shaking anymore. She clung onto the slick ground as best she could with her forepaw. It didn’t feel like her paw anymore.
There was a faint shout beyond the ringing: “Eyotte, hurry! Lovely fell into the stream!”
Father was above her. She widened her eyes, the only movement she could make. She had never seen Father before, but his fur matched the sky. His eyes were big, and his ears were back against his head. He backed away from her. Mother ran up next to him. She was beautiful. Lovely wanted to smile, but it hurt so, so much.
Father was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Mother finally picked her up in her jaws.
A flare of wild pain tore through Lovely’s tiny body, and she yowled out as she hit the ground. Mother screamed, a sound that split the very skies. Father started after her as she hurried to the stream. “Eyotte-?!”
“It burns!”
Mother? Mother’s twisted cry wormed into Lovely’s ears, embedding itself amidst the humming. Her eyelids were growing heavy, but instead of black now, she was being covered by blue. She couldn’t fight it any longer. She let it overtake her and drag her down into a new sleep, her heart beating a crackling, hissing lullaby that would never leave her head.
“Nashoba.” Thunder rolled behind Father’s words. “My girl, my wolf. Glory, why did it have to be her?”
Warmth. Lovely knew only warmth, and softness, and milk. She gulped it down by the mouthful from her mother’s teat. It was rich and full, the sweet taste coating her tongue in a thick film. She felt her mother tremble and whisper something to Father. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“They’re perfect,” Father’s voice pounded into the whelp’s form, even soft as it was. She felt his tongue slide across her fur, a streak of warmth quickly replaced by the biting cold. She whimpered for another lick, but he merely spoke. “Are you sure they’re both females?”
“That’s okay, right?” Mother’s voice wavered. “They’ll be strong; I’ll teach them. Just two… a small litter-”
“They’re perfect,” Father repeated.
Lovely was pushed back as her mother’s breath settled. A noise sounded beside her: a whimpering that must be her sister.
“Tender’s all done,” Father chuckled. “I’m right sick of calling them by their birth-names, Eyotte. It’s high time they had true-names, wolf names.”
“Pack names,” Mother growled, shaking the den floor. “You just want to do your ridiculous ceremony. I’m not going to sit here and howl to Glory and expect some supernatural message telling me what to name my own daughters.”
“I would never expect that,” Father murmured. “We can name them ourselves, without a Glory-call. Whatever you think is best, my dear.”
“Are you sure they’re ready? Lovely hasn’t even opened her eyes yet.” A whimper edged Mother’s words.
Eyes? Was Mother talking about those squirmy things beneath the skin on her face? Were they supposed to do something besides leak whenever she forgot to breathe between swallows of milk? A sudden rumble hurt Lovely’s ears. It shook the whole den, threatening to tear her away from the gentle voices, warm fur, and slow, rhythmic licks that pressed her down into a careless comfort not even milk could bring. She let go of the teat in her mouth to whimper for Mother’s tongue.
“Don’t fret, Lovely,” Mother murmured. That trusty tongue caressed Lovely’s face. She breathed in the sweet scent of milk and nuzzled closer against Mother’s fur, melting into the touch. “Thunder and lightning are nothing more than futile attacks of Cerberus. Nothing to be afraid of as long as we are safe in here.”
“Glory’s rain will silence him,” Father rumbled.
Lovely was not afraid, only startled. Still, she whimpered again, feigning fear to assure the warm licks continued.
“How about you name Lovely,” Mother said. “And I will name Tender. I think I have the perfect name picked out for her: Abequa.”
“Abequa That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
“Close to home,” said Mother, and Abequa’s giggle echoed off the den walls. Mother must be nuzzling her in that special spot on her tummy. “She’s always snuggled right up next to me and never wants to leave. My little Abequa. I know she’d never turn her back on this family, or this forest.”
Father was silent after that, and a warm roll of thunder caused Lovely’s hackles to fluff out in little prickles of fur along her back. Why was she reacting in such a way? She could not look cowardly; what if Father named her something that meant ‘scared’, or ‘weak’? She forced her hackles flat.
“I’m not sure,” Father said with a hum. “I will have to think about it. It needs to be perfect for her.”
“She’s a plucky little thing,” chuckled Eyotte. “Just about any strong-sounding name will do.”
Lovely tried to lift her head and let out a satisfied yip.
“No, not just any name,” said Father. “Let me sleep on it.” There was a thump as he lay down.
Great! Now it was time to go out into the storm! Lovely planted her big paws and was discouraged to find she could not lift herself off the ground. She felt Father’s jaws close around her scruff, his teeth gently poking into her skin, sweet scent cascading all around her. The chill bristled through her fur as she was whipped around and placed next to the dusty, crumbling den wall. The dirt floated up her nose and a sneeze blew her backwards. Mother and Father began to laugh, and she shot them a high-pitched growl that was abruptly cut off by a roll of thunder. Her fur fluffed out again.
Father laughed again. “Don’t be afraid whirlwind, Cerberus cannot reach this world. You’re safe.”
Lovely whimpered for a lick and heard Abequa follow, a gentle chorus calling the warmth of Mother’s tongue to their backs. Lovely never wanted the feeling to end, but the cool draft that whipped through her ruff wasn’t as horrible as she’d expected.
Lovely crawled towards her family’s warmth and was swept into the familiar embrace of fur on all sides. It didn’t remove the curiosity of the rumbles beyond the den, but any discomfort within her tiny body evaporated as soon as she was swaddled by fur. Their scents filled her nose: Father’s sweet, Mother’s milky, and Abequa’s dusty from crawling around just like her. This time, it didn’t make her sneeze. It only drew her to snuggle deeper, burrowing into the living comfort. The noises of them, the beats beneath their fur and the soft shift of their breathing, stole all fears from her mind. She was here, and she belonged here. Here was home, family, warmth.
She felt the flex of Father’s throat beneath her forepaws, Abequa’s tail coiled around her haunch, Mother’s flank against her own. Father’s slightly rougher tongue ran over her head, and she couldn’t fight a yawn. Still, it felt strange to go to sleep when she did not have a true-name yet.
“Finally, finally safe,” Mother said.
As the evening wore on, the den was surrounded by noise. The wild howls of the wind, and the roaring of the sharp-scented earthy milk called water. Lovely lay snuggled against Abequa, Father, and Mother, but she was awakened by a brilliant flash of light. It was the most spectacular thing she had ever seen. It was the only thing she had ever seen.
The flashes grew brighter and more frequent, and she couldn’t help raising her head a bit with each one. Growls of thunder rolled between them, not like the lazy rumble that resembled the snores of her family. It was an exciting sound, a sudden crash that caused her fur to stand up and her whole body to feel like it was about to burst. She had to hear that sound again. She needed to get closer.
She couldn’t stand or move fast and far like her parents, but she could crawl on her belly. She had felt warm sunshine at the mouth of the den before, but this was something new. As soon as her paw met the grass, water was pouring onto her. It kind of hurt, but she remembered she was brave. She shook because she was brave.
There was the flash again! A blaze of red against her eyelids! It called to her, and she drug herself closer to where she thought it had come from. Her paws slipped about the water, and she began to wonder if she should call for help. Father would know what to do. Or he would drag her back to the den and force her to dream forever of the unknown flashes. A distant sound rose alongside the wind: voices, multiple voices weaving together. The harmonies flowed through her tiny ears and into her veins. Where one dipped, another rose, knowing exactly what pitch to strike to create the perfect song. As if in opposition to the fierce wind, they sang from somewhere in the distance. The caw of a bird echoed somewhere above her. Water was landing on her nose, and the chill was biting through her thin pelt. She whimpered, but the flashes and the mysterious song beckoned her onward. There was a chant embedded their cries: “home, home, home.”
With each push and pull Lovely inched closer to a sound of rushing even fiercer than song or storm. She reached out a paw and felt nothing.
Thunder cracked again. It gripped her heart, and she yowled in terror, scrabbling and falling forward into nothing but water. She moved every part of her that moved but there was no ground, nothing but rushing and noise and fear, and she screamed for help as loudly as she could. Water was forced down her throat and her tiny body convulsed. Her lungs clawed for air, choking her, but she did not know which way was up.
Then there was a final blaze of light, and a crash.
A terrible pain ripped through Lovely, jamming into her neck and searing every nerve. All the noise silenced; there was nothing but a ringing. She couldn’t see anything but blue. She couldn’t move anymore. The pain lit up her entire body and she was floating above it, not here, not here…
She became aware she was howling first. Howling in agony. She couldn’t hear herself, but she could feel her voice burning in her chest. Her heart was… different…
Something else was different too: she could see. As she floated along her eyes had drifted open, and all around her there were red petals. Flowers? Why couldn’t she smell them? Why couldn’t she smell anything but this hot stench of pain?
At last, ground was beneath her, and though she was covered in water she wasn’t shaking anymore. She clung onto the slick ground as best she could with her forepaw. It didn’t feel like her paw anymore.
There was a faint shout beyond the ringing: “Eyotte, hurry! Lovely fell into the stream!”
Father was above her. She widened her eyes, the only movement she could make. She had never seen Father before, but his fur matched the sky. His eyes were big, and his ears were back against his head. He backed away from her. Mother ran up next to him. She was beautiful. Lovely wanted to smile, but it hurt so, so much.
Father was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Mother finally picked her up in her jaws.
A flare of wild pain tore through Lovely’s tiny body, and she yowled out as she hit the ground. Mother screamed, a sound that split the very skies. Father started after her as she hurried to the stream. “Eyotte-?!”
“It burns!”
Mother? Mother’s twisted cry wormed into Lovely’s ears, embedding itself amidst the humming. Her eyelids were growing heavy, but instead of black now, she was being covered by blue. She couldn’t fight it any longer. She let it overtake her and drag her down into a new sleep, her heart beating a crackling, hissing lullaby that would never leave her head.
“Nashoba.” Thunder rolled behind Father’s words. “My girl, my wolf. Glory, why did it have to be her?”
