to contact his guards stationed there, the new wolf had snapped and snarled at them. In spite of that, Rule had signaled the others to circle the new one, knowing what would happen when he Changed so he could give them instructions. Sure enough, when the only wolf he trusted turned into a man, the new wolf had tried to flee. The others hadn’t let him, but it had been a near thing. Rule had given his instructions, sending Scott to the house to relay some of them, and Changed back quickly.
Three Changes in close succession, and only a single, gulped chicken breast to eat. No wonder he felt half-starved. Rule continued to wait upon the company that would arrive soon.
That company would please him more than his charge. Wolves who were not-Wythe did not comfort this wolf—who instinctively tried to gather them under his own dominion, and never mind how bad an idea that was. The new wolf didn’t know that, didn’t know much of anything yet, but a new wolf had to be controlled. Not only because he was dangerous, being all power and instinct and no control, but because he needed the security of knowing he was guided by one able to dominate him.
Very few could dominate this wolf. Only those with a mantle.
A new wolf with a full mantle—what was the Lady thinking?
Rule wasn’t surprised Scott had submitted. The surprise was that the black wolf had chosen to cripple rather than kill. That was remarkable restraint in a wolf fresh from First Change.
But then, Ruben the man was highly dominant. As a wolf he had the same instincts, even without memory’s guide.
Lily, he thought, wouldn’t understand the connection. She didn’t understand dominance. It frustrated Rule. How could she not understand, when she herself was so clearly dominant? But she confused dominance with the need to control others—and that was part of it, yes, yet naming the whole for the part distorted meaning into incoherence.
He suspected she saw dominance and submission in vaguely sexual terms. She considered submission a surrender of autonomy. But autonomy as humans used the term seemed absurdly artificial to Rule. He understood personal responsibility. He also understood that “no man is an island.” He did not understand why so many humans embraced the myth that individuals could and should stand alone. It was as if they thought everyone should be dominant.
No, at its heart, submission simply acknowledged fact: the other had the skill and power to kill you . . . and the skill and power to defend you. The two were inseparable. When you submitted, you placed your life in the other’s jaws. If the other was truly dominant, he accepted this. And would then defend that life as if it were his own.
That’s what he must tell Lily, Rule realized. A dominant wolf controlled, yes—but the need to control arose from the need to protect.
Lily.
His heart bunched itself up tight in his chest, sending a tremor of hurt and fear rippling through him. The hurt was the wolf ’s. It was good Lily wasn’t here. Necessary. She was much too human to be around such a new one, who would know her only as threat or prey. But he knew she was distressed, in trouble, and he ached for her, ached to be with her.
The man was more frantic. Words, always words, for the man, but fewer than usual this time: What had happened to her? Did they know she’d tipped Ruben off? They would guess, surely. She wasn’t supposed to be at Ruben’s house. What would the authorities—her own Bureau—do to her?
The new wolf raised his head, rumbling deep in his throat. There are as many kinds of growls for a wolf as there are smiles for a human; this one betokened anxiety, not anger or challenge. Muscle by muscle, Rule denied his fear. He was used to this discipline, to the need to physically mask his emotions, but doing so came hard tonight. He wanted to howl, to run. To Change and go to Lily.
He did what he had to do. Slowly the other relaxed as well, even falling into a light doze.
The moon climbed a handspan higher. Rule waited.
At last headlights wheeled across the pavement on the other side of the screening oaks. Rule stood, keeping his muscles loose and his stance alert. The other wolf rose with him, hackles raised slightly, but holding himself still and quiet.
Perhaps the age of the wolf ’s submerged other self did