It was well past lunch by the time I escorted Vanessa out of the base. I mean, I could call it a pack house, but the last time I was truly in one of those, it was as a young boy, long before my first shift. The council—not it's official name, never it's true name, either. I never think of that, if I can help it. They had decided on what they wanted to do with Alpha bloodlines that would never lead, and Uncle Jason had been a test of that. They had plans for the bloodlines—to try not to waste us as backgrounds to packs because we were up to 10 generations removed from leadership. They finally decided to invade the cities of various nations, trying to influence policies of humans, forcing the rapid change of society to serve them, instead of placing us further into hiding. It was a radical shift, and I still couldn't figure out their end goals. Oh, we knew something of it—after all, I wouldn't be an Alpha by title if I couldn't understand that our world needed far more hands-on control than the ancients even wielded. I mean, it sometimes felt like we were stepping back into the City-State era that the Greco-Roman Empires crushed under them. Given that technology was on the side of yet another Empire forming—as humans sometimes called it, the New World Order—and with a power that we couldn't compete with, even, you'd have to be as dumb as cow dung to not see the train wreck our world was heading towards.

        And then she showed up. If it weren't for the need to stop another one like her from coming after her, then I'd know the order would have already come through to hunt her down and kill her—someone would have noticed when I brought her in. Seriously, I'd be holding a dead woman, trying to not go insane because I'd know that it's about more than me and the bond. I'm not stupid, I knew my Uncle called someone above his pay-grade as soon as I linked him in. I wouldn't have, but I'm not my mother's brother, no matter that we thought alike quite often. I rather wished I had the time to settle down before having to rush on this.

          I had to stop suddenly—she wasn't behind me anymore. I could feel each step she took away from me. I wanted to command her sight unseen, but I suppressed the urge so I could at least see what had distracted her, for all that she was damn well disobeying an order. This human wasn't stupid enough to not know what it was.

          Vanessa was staring at a map on the wall—something she should have noticed when we walked in, but then she was thinking about the barrier, not the décor. Reaching up to the top of it, she murmured to herself more than me, "I live right here."

        That's when she turned to me. "I've lived in your territory this whole time, haven't I?"

        "You've lived in this territory, sure, but it's not been mine this whole time," I was a little abashed. "Remember, I'm not much older than you."

        "Why do they put such young people in charge?"

        "I'll tell you when we go get some lunch, alright?" This wasn't a command. It was clear I would dictate everything, but I couldn't keep pushing the girl. It would make everything more difficult, to be that way, as much as I hate how the humans act. Even as a mutant, she's basically human.

         Well, that's what it took to get the damn girl in the car, at least.

         I took her to a local diner, hidden a few blocks away from any main thoroughfare—the type of place that's almost as much a secret as my pack's home. There were old men lounging on outside benches, and the chronic noise of a wall-mounted television was good for blocking out private conversations—that and the food was as southern as it came. High calorie, heavy on flavors, actually made you want to eat instead of suffering through not starving your wolf. Higher temperatures while hairless means a higher metabolism rate, and it would not slow down to a more human rate, even if we crashed that balance like most humans did. Which sucks, since not all of us were warriors.

        Anyway I had the equivalent of three mammoth meals in front of us and let Vanessa pull out what she wanted—she'd never eaten here before. Thankfully, she let me eat before starting in on me. Thoughtful, really. Would make a good Luna quality, with or without a damn bond forcing it on us. I guess she knew how to treat a man. Made me wonder what her home life was like because most girls couldn't shut their mouths for the life of them.

        I was still lost in wondering what she was really like behind the barrier that kept her from me, when she finally spoke. "Ok, out with it."

         "With what?"

        "Why you already have the title and leadership. Why isn't experience at the helm?"

         That's a nautical term, and she knew how to respond to a command—fat lot of good that's done this whole time, knowledge without application. Perhaps her father was Navy? "Well, it comes from old fighting traditions. Think of Scottish clans, Fedual kings. You're the first one to charge into battle, and since you're willing to take the risk of your life, you lead. And with werewolves, we are extremely strong during our first decade or so of shifting. That doesn't make us the smartest, biggest, or the best leaders, but it does place us in a difficult situation, when fighting, to have someone who cannot stand up to a fight to the death and still come out living, no matter how brilliant. And in cases where a father and son, or any Alpha and younger outsider are fighting for dominance, youth often wins, unless you're an absolute bastard when fighting. For my uncle and I, I'm the stronger, a simple fact."

         "So, you're pushed to have children young, for the sake of the pack, then?" It was almost like I could see the thoughts churning around behind those eyes—I should have anticipated it.

         "Something like that," I winced. "That's likely why bonds formed in the first place, to force us into keeping our people strong and safe. But now? Our pack isn't an inherited thing, or even fully autonomous. It's a warpack."

         "Care to explain that further?" She had a bit of a sparkle to her eyes, clearly amused.

        I had to look away before I became lost—something I fear is going to become worse as time passes. "Well, in a normal pack, there's the Alpha, Beta, possibly Gammas and Deltas, and some sort of lead fighter, who oversees the training and direction of the fighters when the named positions cannot make it to a fight. Those of us who are in the cities are not in a regular pack, and are simply the fighters without the rest of what makes a pack a family. Warpacks are temporary, eating up the prime of your life with little personal reward. If it wasn't for the many concerns we have as a people, I'd still be back at home, doing chores any farmer's son would do."

         That got a surprised laugh out of her. "Wait, you're a farmboy? Like cowboy hats, milking cows, and chewing on random bits of straw from a field? Why the heck are you tatted up?"

         "Country boys have tattoos." I grumbled that, barely audible. She cocked her head sideways, trying to process what she had barely heard, so I said it louder.

         "I'm sorry, I've never been to a farm before, all I can do is stereotype, Allen." Honestly, that was the first time she said my name in a way that didn't bother me.

        I couldn't help the small smile that crossed my lips. "I had no idea that I would ever leave that farm until they came through to test all near-turning children in our pack. My uncle had been out here for well over a decade, rarely coming back to visit. I was twelve, at the time. I came here about a year later, to train and be groomed as his replacement so he could move on to other obligations. In a few short months, that transition would have happened..."

          "Except I came along. I get it." She had to roll her eyes at that.

         "And now it looks like I will never replace him. And I've no idea what my future holds—anymore than you do." I nearly copied her expression. It wouldn't do any good, probably push her to more outrageousness. "But one of the first things I'm going to need to do is visit your parents, to persuade them to allow you to leave school with me. I'm thinking of some sort of study abroad excuse, sponsored through the school, if you think they could be persuaded."

         Her beautiful lips popped open in shock, before pursing into that gentle smirk that usually adorned it. "You'll have to be pretty persuasive, and not against my parents. I've got a brother that rivals you, at home still. He's something else."