Bride of the Alpha(12)

“Very mature, Ginny,” he said. “I can see you’re all growed up.” She leaped to her feet and tried to tackle him. He turned and ran, with her chasing after him.

I saw Maxwell standing back, watching me approvingly.

He walked over to me. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? We don’t bite. Well, I do, but you’ll find out about that later.”

Once again I felt that swoony feeling. I wanted to consummate our wedding with him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

I glanced around. “Where’s all the kids, by the way?” I said, to change the subject.

“Oh, this is a fairly adult ceremony,” Max said. “The cubs are spending the weekend with their grandparents and the teenagers.”

I really, really wanted to know what Running and Claiming involved. Damn it.

I found out a short time later, when Maxwell led me out of the reception area to a clearing, where Lance was now standing and waiting for us. The woodlands stretched out behind us, vast and inviting.

We’d be running through ponderosa pines, so tall they shot up into the sky and I had to tip my head back to see the treetops. The woods were thick here, and the forest floor was littered with pine needles. The smell was heavenly.

Crowds of wolves were gathering around, whooping and cheering.

“So, here’s how this works,” he said. “We’re very big on tradition around here, and this goes way back. As you know, it’s vital that an Alpha be perceived as the strongest member of his pack. The way that we used to claim our brides around here up until about a hundred years ago was simply to go to another pack’s territory, run after a bride, and drag her back with us, caveman style.”

Wolves usually sought out brides from outside of their pack, for genetic variety and also to form or strengthen new alliances.

“Yeah, that’s what our pack did too,” I said. Of course, this was modern times, we’d evolved past that since then.

“On an Alpha’s wedding day, we re-enact a version of that. The Alpha has to prove that he’s wolf enough to claim a bride. So we shift, I chase you through the woods, towards a finish line. If you make it there first, you are free from obligation. If I catch you, I claim you right there in the woods, and you are my bride.”

“How often does a bride actually get away?”

He grinned fiercely. “From a Battle? Never. And trust me, I’m faster than you.”

“We’ll see,” I smiled sweetly. He was in for a little surprise. Yes, I’m a big girl. I also have very, very powerful leg muscles.

He had the advantage of knowing the terrain. I had the advantage that I was a track star in high school. Big doesn’t always mean slow. I wasn’t going to tell him that, though.

“How would I find the finish line?”

Leo was standing near us. He handed me a big piece of cloth which smelled very strongly of Max’s scent.

“The finish line is due north. One mile from here,” he said. “My brother is there holding the other half of the cloth, so follow your nose. Oh, and you get a fifteen second head start.”

I nodded. Wolves have a great sense of direction and an excellent sense of smell. I’d be able to find the finish line without a problem.

We stripped off our clothing.

“Quit staring at me, you perv!” I said to Maxwell.

“You’re my wife. I’ll stare at you all I want.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said smugly. “I’ll wait for you at the finish line. Try not to get lost.”

“Oh, I already have so much to punish you for,” Maxwell said with a smirk. “Thank you for giving me one more reason to spank that delicious bottom of yours.”

I heard Vincent’s voice booming out. “Attention everybody! It is now time for the Running, and, if my son is half the Alpha I think he is, there might be some Claiming in the near future!” The crowd laughed uproariously.

“Nice one, dad! Very funny!” Maxwell yelled out, and then he muttered under his breath “Might? My furry ass.”

“Ready…shift!” Lance yelled.

I dropped down to all fours. My fur sprouted, my jaw lengthened, my ears popped up and reformed themselves, turning pointy. My senses blazed to life. I could smell everything with astounding clarity. I could hear a squirrel leaping from one branch to another, and a raccoon scrabbling through the underbrush behind a nearby tree. On the other hand, my color vision vanished and it was now a million shades of black, white and gray.

“Let the Claiming begin!” Lance’s voice boomed through the air.

Not if I could help it. I took off like an arrow shot from a bow. I was a gray streak racing through the trees, leaping over bushes, over fallen logs.