Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

“It’s been two months, Derrick. Opening night is two days away, and we don’t have enough bartenders. I’m telling you this is gonna be a disaster,” Sheila shrieked and stomped her foot like a giant diaper baby brat.
His little cousin was always quick with her temper, but it was nothing Derrick could not handle. He raised an eyebrow, and clever little Wolf changed tactics, pouting, and giving him those big goo-goo eyes like she used to when she wanted him to carry her around piggyback when they were kids.
Fucking hell.
Classic Sheila. Always resorting to what he thought of as overly dramatic tactics whenever she was attempting to wrestle Derrick’s attention from whatever he was doing, so he could do what she wanted instead. But not this time.
Derrick was busy AF. Okay, fine. Maybe not busy. But he was trying to settle his inner animal, and that was a hell of a thing for a dominant Dire Wolf. He’d tried everything. Doing the books, stocking the upstairs coolers, checking the kegs, and counting the number of fucking beer glasses he’d ordered for the bar.
Right now, he was outdoors in the giant barn they’d converted into a garage, polishing the body of his custom Harley Davidson VRSCDX Night Rod Special. Just because his small Pack of Dire Wolves had given up life on the road, didn’t mean they could let things go to shit.
Hell, he still loved riding, but it had been years since his boots had stood in one place long enough to leave a print. Things were changing. The animal inside him was restless, looking for permanence. It was time to settle down.
Six months ago, he’d contacted the Shifter Council with his intentions and sent out feelers for a stable territory, nothing too big, and without any other Shifter presence, so he and his Pack could build a home. Within a few weeks, Derrick was looking at available real estate in Blue Valley, New Jersey. The small east coast town seemed the perfect fit for him and his Pack.
That did not mean Derrick was going to abandon his wheels. A biker at heart, his love of crotch rockets had always been a huge part of him. It was what had him outside right now, cleaning, polishing, and making sure every single bit of his chopper was in top form.
Sheila should know better than to interrupt him when he was taking care of his baby. Was he wrong for being outside when they were about to launch their new business?
Maybe.
But his baby cousin knew exactly what was up when Derrick was busy with his bike, especially considering she felt the same about her own snazzy little Softail Convertible. All his Pack mates shared that same deep love and respect for their mounts. They were also all meticulous when it came to caring for them.
They were a Pack of seven strong, a blip compared to the Macconwood Wolf Pack which held most of North America under Rafe Maccon. That Alpha was good, strong, and he’d recently turned down the role of High Alpha, a position of great power over all standard Wolf Shifters. Derrick had followed their trials and tribulations under the Curse of Natalis, and its demise at the hands of a teenager from New Jersey. That young woman had accepted the role Rafe had refused and was now facing hell trying to organize and control the Werewolves of the world and their newfound powers.
All very interesting, but nothing to do with Derrick and his Pack. They were not standard Wolves. They were something else. Something rare and powerful. Seven was all he needed. Derrick’s leather cut, complete with its DWMC patch, flapped in the breeze as he straightened his spine and turned to face the little redheaded menace. He sniffed the air and rolled his head on his neck. Rain was coming.
Patience, he told his beast when his cousin met his stare for a beat too long. She averted her gaze, baring her throat slightly in deference to his inherent dominance.
“Sheila, what is it you’re telling me that you think I don’t know?”
“We need another bartender, Derrick, or we are gonna bomb on opening night.”
“And has no one answered the advertisements you sent?” he asked.
Sheila flipped her red hair and closed and opened her mouth a few times. Sometimes, all it took to stun her into quiet was being reasonable. Fiery little brat.
“I’m just concerned,” she muttered, and he could not blame her in the least.
The Pack had pooled its resources to invest in this venture, and it was a huge risk. Not only because of the money, but because they had never tried anything like this before. Dire Wolves were nomadic creatures, if not by nature, then because of circumstance.
His Pack consisted of the toughest, most loyal badasses in the world as far as Derrick was concerned. He would do everything in his power not to let them down. Especially not baby cousin over here.
“It will work out, Sheila.”
“Yeah, well, I wish I had your confidence,” she replied, biting her lip the same way she had when she was a nervous little kid.
“If you did, you’d be Alpha,” he teased, earning him a smile.
He could hardly believe they were now the proud owners of a real life roadhouse, hovering right on the city limits of Blue Valley, New Jersey. Locals had warned him about the place. Said it got too little traffic to make ends meet, but Derrick was not worried. He had something the previous owners did not.
He was a Shifter, and as such, the supernatural community, though secret from the human world, would come check them out in droves. He hoped to woo them into a steady clientele with his unique food and beverage offerings. The bar itself was a piece of work. It had been abandoned, left to rot, but with a little elbow grease, he and the Pack got it in tiptop shape.
Everything was all neat and polished, ready for business. There were the last minute things that needed fixing, of course, and he would see to it. After he tended to his bike. Customized to fit his bulk and handle his strength by their very own mechanical expert, Cole Mingan, the big beast of a Harley, seemed to call out to the big bad Wolf inside Derrick, begging for a ride.
Cole was good at his job. So good, in fact, that Derrick had decided to give the younger Shifter charge of the twenty classic bikes he’d recently bought and had shipped here to their new permanent address. The idea was to fix them up and put them on display. Sort of a draw for motorcycle fans and would be customers.
Currently, the best looking hogs were lined up on the far side of the roadhouse, which they’d named Serious Moonlight after a unanimous vote. The rest of the bikes were inside the garage, waiting to be fixed.
“Sheila,” Derrick asked after a minute. “Did you advertise for bartenders and waitstaff in both the town weekly circular and the daily newspaper like I told you to?”
Sheila growled, then heaved an exasperated sigh. She was no dummy, but it didn’t hurt to check.
“Course I did, cousin. But we’re strangers here, and small towns on the east coast are not as friendly as I thought they would be,” she replied heavily.
Sheila’s growling grew louder, and when he turned, he saw her staring at the open garage doors, towards the open road. It was a problem he’d been anticipating, the call to roam. But they’d all agreed before coming here, they were committed to trying to grow roots.
Derrick stared at his cousin. Poor thing was trembling from head to toe. Her green eyes were glowing with the force of her Wolf, and fur had already started to sprout along her arms. Another reason they needed a place to settle.
“Be still,” he said, using the force of his power to soothe her angsty beastie.
“Alpha?” He heard her frightened plea and understood it.
Derrick’s eyes narrowed. Sheila was scared, and her pupils were dilated. He growled deep. The rough sound forcing her eyes downward. That was good. She was not too far gone yet. He used his Alpha voice, never to cow, but only to calm her emotionally heightened animal.
“This is a good place for us. I feel it, Sheila. I wouldn’t steer the Pack wrong.”
Sheila closed her eyes, nodding her head. She trusted him, and that was a balm to his heart. After standing perfectly still for one long, drawn out breath, she opened her eyes, and he was pleased to see her Wolf had abated.
“Everything alright?” Brock, his Beta, poked his head inside the garage. Derrick met his eyes, then waved the male away. Things were fine now.
Sheila’s beast had quieted, and Derrick’s felt steady after her helping her through it. That was one of the things he had not expected of being Alpha. Helping his Pack mates calmed his beast, as if he knew his place and reveled in his position.
It was not always easy, and sometimes, he downright hated it. But Derrick was born to lead, like his mama always said. It was a hard road, but he’d been born to it. Leaving life on the road for a place here was difficult for all of them, Sheila more than the rest. He understood her predicament all too well.
As the only female in the Pack, she felt more alone than the rest of them. Their mothers were off, living life in a Pack MC made up of only females. She’d gotten her invite last year but turned them down. Sheila was not ready to give up on the good things yet, and he did not blame her.
Staying put was going to be hard on all of them. Life on the road was not easy, but it was something they knew and understood. This was different. Unchartered territory. Scary and exciting.
Derrick and his Pack had eaten up mile after mile on the backs of their bikes together. They would learn to settle together as well. Pack was family. There was nothing more important than that. But even families had hierarchies, and for Dire Wolf Shifters such as they were, that meant the person who was not only the strongest, but who had the most control was the Alpha, and he was responsible for everyone.
As Alpha, it was Derrick’s job to protect his Pack. Even from themselves. Helping them control their giant, prehistoric animals was one of his responsibilities. Many thought an Alpha ruled by simply dominating around those under his care. They couldn’t be more wrong. Dominance and subjugation had their place, but it was Derrick’s unique ability to control his urges and instincts that made him the undisputed Alpha of their Pack.
“Sorry, cousin. Thank you for helping me, uh, I think I’ll call the paper again.”
Sheila spoke with her eyes downcast, and her throat exposed. Derrick pulled her into a quick hug, patting her shoulder when she stepped away. Dire Wolf Shifters needed touch to settle their animals, and as Alpha he understood and craved that connection as well. He dismissed her gently, worrying his lower lip as she walked away.
“You do that, cousin. I’ll be along shortly,” he murmured, knowing full well she heard him.
Dire Wolf hearing was aces, even after years of listening to motorcycle engines. With that, his attention back on his bike once more.
Always take care of your Pack first, then your wheels, his late father’s voice echoed in his brain as he put away the degreaser and wax.
He grabbed the few rags he’d been using and tossed them on top of his bundle, stooping to pick it up before returning it to the far side of the garage. The rain had started in earnest now, and he wondered if it would be a flash storm or something wilder and more untamed.
Their new property sat alongside an expanse of woods, and Derrick looked forward to running through the mud and tearing through the trees later on tonight in Wolf form. It was one of the perks of this spot. Edge of town, no close neighbors. There was a shopping center fifteen minutes away, but that was back on the highway. A gas station was another ten down the other way, and the road into town was a good twenty minute drive.
They were close enough to have a steady business, and far enough to not get caught in their fur. It was the main reason he’d felt drawn to the old, abandoned bar. The property came with a couple of acres of forest, as well as two other buildings and a large parking lot.