Pack

2


Ryu’s blood was singing in his veins - he loved a fight, even if
his opponent was hopeless. And the prize - oh, the prize he
got from this one made him want to do cartwheels down the
street. He was hard pressed to keep from looking back,
making sure that *his* Elf was following, hard pressed to keep
from turning back and finishing this right now, taking the Harkian
as his own. ‘Can’t - can’t yet. Think about him, he needs to
learn about the Pack first. Give him his day - tomorrow evening
is the right time.’ Oh, it was hard, though. He *wanted* Triaan,
wanted him *now*. He sighed, and Kyra poked him, making a
face.

“Be patient.” She whispered. He scowled, and she smirked,
tightening her hold on Keith. That boy looked a little shell-
shocked - Ryu nearly snickered. Kyra must have explained
a few things to him. She’d done a bit of research, found out he
lived with foster parents, had no siblings, and had gone gung-ho
after him. The fact that he was walking beside her, even if he
did look blank with surprise, meant she’d convinced him. Well,
he’d have to start training soon - and Triaan would help. Another
surge of adrenaline went through him, another urge to look back
had to be fought down. Unlike Keith, who’d been unable to find
a lot of information on Harkian’s, and Z, who’d never bothered,
Ryu and Kyra had in-depth knowledge. They’d been able to talk
to several of the Elves, knew exactly what to do when they found
Ryu’s Chosen.

That Chosen, though he had no idea he was any such thing, was
walking about ten yards behind them, eyes flickering back and
forth in the gathering twilight, watching each of the five figures
with equal intensity. This was his new pack, he needed to know
the hierarchy, needed to find his place soon. Needed to learn
strengths and weaknesses. His head was spinning a little, with
the sudden change from knowing and hating his place to being
adrift on the outskirts of a pack and feeling a frail new hope.
Reggan’s behavior so far was perfect, exactly what he would
have expected, what he’d expected from Z and never gotten.
He wondered if... no, best to keep *that* hope down. He
couldn’t stand to have that hope dashed again.

He followed them through the nicer part of town, through the
shabbier bits, and into the rough places. He went to high alert
then, eyes constantly in motion, trying to keep his eyes on the
figures ahead of him, rapidly vanishing in the dark, and the dark
corners and alleyways where danger might lurk. He saw a
shadowy figure stare at him and start following, but he wasn’t
concerned about himself and ignored it. He noticed when the
group in front of him had slowed their steps a little, and slowed
his own to match. He knew an invitation to move closer when
he saw one, but he wasn’t ready to take them up on that yet. It
would be a blatant sign of weakness. He didn’t want them to
think he was a liability. He was desperate to stay with this pack,
the first one he’d seen in years that was proper - that had *cubs*,
or would have them.

The pack reached a large, low building and the stocky boy moved
to unlock the chains on the door. Triaan kept his position ten yards
away. The shadowy figure moved closer, until he could see a big,
dirty looking man staring at him like he was water in the desert.

“Hello, pretty.” He said, his voice low and rough. Triaan only stared
at him, his face blank but his eyes assessing. He could take him. He
turned his attention back to where all the pack except Reggan had
entered the building. The stocky boy stood guard in the doorway
while Reggan strode forward. Triaan held his ground, as was proper,
and the black sunglasses swept over him before settling on the man.

“Beat it.”

Two words, but the man whirled and dashed away. Triaan
watched him go, his head tilted slightly to one side, before turning his
eyes back on Reggan. ‘Stronger than I thought - and well known already.
Good leader.’

“Inside.” Reggan ordered him, and turned on his heel, walking away.
Triaan followed, five yards behind now, and the stocky boy waved him
inside. He slid past, careful not to touch him, and heard the door clang
shut behind him, chains rattling into place. The interior of the building
was wide open, only dimly lit. The pack was gathered in a corner, where
a small cooking area was set up, a table low to the floor surrounded by
cushions to sit on.

Reggan was lounging at the head of the table, his sunglasses gone. Triaan
moved to the very edge of the soft light, crouching down with his back to
the wall, staring openly at the shining golden eyes that had been hidden
before. They gleamed like a cat’s eyes. He was fascinated all over again.
The wonderful eyes were firmly focused on him in return, but he wasn’t
embarrassed. He was new pack, of course he’d be studied. The tall girl
and the stocky boy were fixing food with rapid movements, like two cogs
in a machine. No motion was wasted. Kyra was sitting beside Reggan,
knitting needles in her hands, working on a rapidly growing swatch of grey.
Keith sat uncertainly beside her, looking like he wasn’t sure what to do with
his hands. New pack, too, but not sure how to act. But he knew his place,
it was obvious to Triaan that he was the Alpha female’s chosen mate.

Overall, Triaan was highly impressed with this pack, and wondered where
he would find his place in it.

The food was finished, smelled wonderful. The tall girl set it on the table,
and everyone took what they wanted. That was all right - Z’s group had
waited their turns, letting Z and the higher-ups go first, but this pack was
small, and with everyone certain of their place, meals could be shared equally.
He stayed where he was, although he was more than a little hungry. He didn’t
know his place, so he would wait for what, if any, was left, and take it only if
offered. He was almost more tired than he was hungry - today was a bit too
much for him after day after endless boring day with the Walking Dead. He
felt his eyes trying to close, and fought off sleep desperately. Being hungry
helped a little - the tall girl was staring at him.

He jerked his eyes away. He didn’t want to antagonize any of his new
pack members yet, didn’t really want to at all, but problems would be
better dealt with once he knew his place. Apparently, there was not going
to be a problem. She was piling a plate with food and moving to place it
easily within his reach before backing away and sitting beside her mate
again. He looked at it for a moment, then he looked at his new leader.
Reggan gave him a short nod, and he leaned forward to slide the plate
closer, surveying its contents. There was rice, cooked with bits of carrot
and peas, a few pieces of meat, and two slices of lightly toasted bread. A
worn silver spoon lay on the side of the plate. He ate a piece of bread and
a few bites of rice, enough to take the edge off of his hunger. It was good,
but a full stomach would make him sleepier, and he felt desperate need to
keep his guard up. He didn’t like not knowing his place - if they wanted him
to be the lowest of the low that was all right, so long as he knew.

Listening to their talk he began to wonder. There didn’t seem to be a
lowest - Reggan listened to each of them with equal respect, discussing
training with Keith, supplies with the tall girl, Hana, something about a
ship with the stocky boy, Dar. Not mentioned was Hana’s pregnancy,
and that gave Triaan pause. Didn’t they know? Surely she knew? He
listened to her talk of what moves she could teach Keith, and decided
she didn’t know. No mother would risk the life of her child with dangerous
moves like that, not if she wanted it. His hopes fell a little - and Reggan
looked sharply at him when they did. Triaan was immediately back on
guard. Was the man an empath? Could he tell what Triaan was feeling?
Or was his own body language so easily readable? He didn’t know, and
was rapidly becoming too tired to care. He hadn’t slept really well in years,
not since Z had started pushing Dahlia on him. He had to stay on guard
around her, even when he didn’t think she was in the building she’d show
up and try to crawl in bed with him. He sighed inaudibly, and settled his
back more firmly against the wall. It wouldn’t be a bad place to sleep -
before Z had beaten him and forced him to join the Dead, he’d slept in
a lot worse.

The pack sat around the table, talking in low voices, and Triaan let himself
doze lightly, knowing he could wake up quickly if something happened.
Nothing did - an hour or two after dinner was cleared away the teens began
drifting off to other corners of the building, where he saw beds had been set
up. It was no surprise when he saw Hana and Dar tumble, giggling, into one,
or when Kyra coaxed Keith into another corner with her. Reggan - he’d heard
him called Ryu - grinned after them, then strode off into the last dark corner.
No light came on to show Triaan what was there, but he heard the faint squeak
of bedsprings. Soon the only light on was a tiny nightlight in a corner of the kitchen
area. Triaan slid away from the light, using his Elven senses to find a small empty
alcove. He curled up in a corner, feeling protected enough to sleep, and settled
with his head on his arm. At least it was a little warm in here - he’d gotten soft,
so far as warmth was concerned, especially with the loss of his leather jacket.
Well, he’d been intending to work on that, hadn’t he? Now was as good a time
to start as any.


*


Ryu watched as Triaan moved away from the kitchen, found his little cubbyhole,
and curled up to sleep. Thanks to his unusual eyes, he could see him as easily as
if the whole building was lit, and he yearned to go and pull the Elf up, take him to
his warm bed and love him all night, mark him as his and show him exactly what
his place in this Pack was. ‘I have to wait, I *have* to. That’s what he expects
- a full day before we acknowledge him openly. Hana pushed it a little, but it
seems to be okay. Should have known she was too mushy to let him go hungry.’
He was pleased that Triaan had eaten a little, although he wouldn’t admit it to himself.
He’d seen Triaan’s eyes on the tall girl, a sort of wonder in their depths, and he was
determined to find out what he was thinking. He’d seen the brief flash of
disappointment when she’d discussed training with Keith and wondered at it,
too. Did Harkians not expect the females to fight? He didn’t remember ever
hearing that, and the one female he’d met had definitely been a warrior. What,
then? If he didn’t expect them to fight, he’d have to get over it quickly. Kyra
and Hana would take care that he did.

Ryu couldn’t help but smile broadly, even with the bit of worry that had taken
root in his mind. He had his Elf, his Harkian, after all the years of waiting and
searching. He pulled a pillow close, wrapped his arms tightly around it as if he
was holding that slender body instead. He wanted to learn the Elf’s scent, feel
the texture of his skin, test the softness of his hair. But now he needed to rest -
tomorrow wasn’t going to be easy. If he wanted Triaan to be his Chosen, he
was in for the most important fight of his life.


*


Triaan opened his eyes to the grey light of dawn streaming through the slatted
windows. He sat up slowly, stiff and sore from sleeping on the hard floor.
‘Definitely getting soft.’ He stood and stretched carefully, eyes going around
the building. Hana and Dar were a pile of blankets in one bed, Kyra and Keith
another. Reggan’s bed was neatly made and empty. He looked around the
building but didn’t see him. There were a few doors off of the huge main room
- he listened carefully and heard the faint sound of running water - a shower. He
turned his attention back to the room, studying the place. The center was set up
as a training area, various large mats scattered on the floor, a small group of weight
lifting equipment set up on one side of the room. Another side had shelves made of
old crates and concrete blocks, holding neatly folded clothes, a few pairs of old
shoes, some battered books and odd and ends. One wall was blank, with three
doors set into it. The last wall had the small alcove he’d slept in and the kitchen
area.

One of the doors opened suddenly, and Reggan strolled out, clad only in a pair
of tight, worn jeans. Triaan flushed slightly and forced his eyes away from those
long legs, from the chest still sparkling with water droplets. The sunglasses were
back on, so he didn’t see the flash of triumph in Ryu’s golden eyes at his reaction.
He waited until the green eyes settled on him again, and motioned to the bathroom.
When Triaan obeyed, slipping past him, he shoved some clothes into his arms,
ignoring the surprise on his face.

Triaan went into the small, plain room and slipped out of his clothes, glad the
steam from Reggan’s shower was keeping the little room warm. He put his
clothes in a small, open hamper where Reggan’s clothes from yesterday and
others, that smelled of Dar as well, were piled. He took a quick shower, not
needing to wash his long, heavy hair. It stayed clean for a long time, and he
was grateful. It was a nightmare to brush out after washing, and took hours
to do. He’d wait until he felt more secure for that. He dressed in the clothes
he’d been given, a pair of jeans too loose for him, a thick black leather belt,
and two shirts, a dark long sleeved ribbed one with a high neckline, and another
long sleeved light grey pullover with a collar. He stared at himself in the cracked
mirror - it was a long time since he’d worn anything that wasn’t black except the
dark grey jacket. He slid his hands into the jean pockets and jerked the right
one back out, staring at the hair tie he’d found. These were men’s jeans, and
Dar’s hair wasn’t long enough to tie back. Neither was Reggan’s. So this tie
was obviously put there for him.

A sudden brilliant smile lit his face - Reggan would have loved to see it. He
pulled his long hair back into the traditional high ponytail he’d worn before Z,
leaving his long bangs to frame his face. It felt wonderful - it had been an
affront to his dignity to leave his hair down in public like Dahlia had insisted,
and who cared if it looked ‘sexy’ as she had claimed? Harkians left their hair
down only in the privacy of their pack, only for the enjoyment of their mate.
He would have been more comfortable going naked. He’d tried one single
time to explain that to Z, and had been cut off - *slapped* - for his pains.
He’d never tried to tell him anything about his culture again.

When he opened the door Dar grinned at him, brushing past to close the door
behind him. Hana was apparently in another room - a sleepy-eyed Kyra was
sitting on the floor next to the door. Keith was still asleep. Triaan headed for
the kitchen area where Reggan was sprawled at the table again, writing on some
papers. He kept to the wall, not comfortable with the open space in the middle
of the room yet, and took up his position from last night. He sat with his arms
folded on his knees, his fingers laced loosely together, and studied the floor in
front of him like it held the secrets to the universe. Reggan had pulled on a tight
blue tank top that clung to every curve of his muscles and set off the bronze skin
beautifully - Triaan was afraid he’d drool if he looked up again.

Hana and Kyra fixed the breakfast, although Triaan saw that Hana looked a little
green. He wondered if she still hadn’t realized she was pregnant - if she didn’t
she’d find out soon enough. She was obviously suffering from morning sickness,
although when Kyra, concerned, asked about her she replied, “Flu, I guess.” and
went to slump against Dar while Kyra finished the meal. The man put a gentle
arm around her shoulders and gave Triaan an odd, measuring look. He realized
he’d been watching her a little too much, and went back to studying his entwined
fingers. Keith had apparently gotten over his shyness of last night. When Reggan
and Dar began discussing ships again, he joined in enthusiastically, and Triaan saw
his pack worth skyrocket, so far as the other men were concerned, when it became
obvious he was a skilled mechanic.

Triaan was feeling slightly depressed. He really didn’t see any need for himself
in this pack - they had warriors, good ones, and the females could easily take
care of themselves. He was out of training, thanks to Z’s paranoia, and was
sure it was obvious. He knew nothing of mechanics, was not entirely sure why
they needed one, so his powers of observation were failing, too. Worst of all,
he’d been so *sure* that the cub Hana was carrying was planned, and now it
was plain that the pack didn’t even know about it. He wrapped his arms around
his legs and put his chin on his knees, staring off at nothing while he tried to process
all of this.

He thought he was being ignored, especially when no one offered him any breakfast,
but all five of the others were covertly watching him. Kyra, Hana and Dar, of course,
knew what Reggan had planned for him, and were trying to learn as much about him
as they could. It wasn’t easy with that still figure and the blank expression. They’d
all seen him watching Hana, but he didn’t seem to be lusting after her. He’d seemed
curious - faintly worried. They wondered if he had known she was getting sick. A
talent like that would certainly come in handy. Keith had always wanted the
opportunity to talk to Triaan. Only Kyra’s whispered warnings and explanations
had kept him in check, and he’d learned that he would be able to do so tomorrow.
That was enough to settle him for now, especially since he had the exquisite creature
next to him to study. He’d never dreamed she’d even go out with him, and now she’d
boldly told him he was her Chosen, her mate. He’d studied Kalarians before, although
he hadn’t realized that was what these people were, and he knew good and well what
being a Chosen meant. It meant with them for life. He was pleased, after he’d gotten
over the initial shock. Everyone else in his life had left him, he was more than happy
to be here with her and feel he belonged.

Triaan jerked his attention back when the others got up and began to make ‘time-
for-school’ noises. The table was cleared off except for a paper towel that had a
piece of buttered toast wrapped around some scrambled eggs. Everyone dashed
away after shoes and backpacks, pointedly ignoring him, and he nearly grinned.
He knew they intended him to eat that, and it made him feel very slightly more ‘pack.’
It was good too, and hunger made it better.

He’d had his own backpack with him when Reggan had won the fight yesterday, and
it had the few things he’d ever wanted to keep in it - the clothes that Z had given him
over the last two years he was sure were lost to him now. It didn’t matter - his new
leader had given him some clothes, though they were a little too big, and he had one
warm outfit in the hamper in the bathroom. If he had a jacket, he’d have enough -
his boots were thick treaded and nearly new, and he had a pair of light Harkian
sandals in his backpack for when he felt it warm enough to wear them - that was
usually the middle of summer.

They went outside, and he followed, moving down the sidewalk away from
them while Dar fastened the door securely. The others exclaimed over how
warm the morning was, while he hid a shiver and wished again for a jacket.
When they walked off he trailed behind them, ten yards away again. Hana
and Kyra chattered like happy birds, while the men talked in low voices. No
one looked back to see if he was following, and he was satisfied - that was the
way it should be. Sometime this evening he’d find out what his place was,
either through an order from Reggan or through a fight. It didn’t matter to him
which way it was.

As they approached the school the others slowed their pace again, and this
time he shortened his distance to about six yards. It didn’t show any weakness
now, not in Triaan’s eyes. School was the most important place in his life right
now, next to the pack’s home, and solidarity had to be shown, even if he didn’t
know his place yet. He had a feeling the pack wanted him even closer, and he
was right. They stopped suddenly, as if it was planned, and turned to walk back
in his direction. He stood absolutely still, waiting to see what they were doing.
He thought they’d walk past him, but they surrounded him instead, although no
one touched him. Then they turned and started walking - he was forced to walk
with them, since Hana and Dar were directly behind him. After a moment they
moved away, but he had taken the completely unsubtle hint and stayed with
them, although he did move to the back of the group.

It was a good choice - when they turned the corner, Z and the Walking Dead
were waiting for them.


*


Z looked like hell, Triaan decided. His face was a patchwork of bruises and
cuts, one eye black, one lip swollen, a knot on the other cheek that had a bit
of plaster stuck to it. He glanced at Reggan - the one small bruise on his cheek
had already faded to yellow, barely noticeable. He had to fight off a smirk.
Anyone could tell who the better fighter was.

Z was glaring at him, although the words he spoke were addressed to Reggan.
“Won’t be ready to re-challenge you for a while.”

“So?”

“I want him back.”

“So?”

“I’m willing to trade.” Triaan shifted uncomfortably when he heard that. He
had already decided there was no real place open for him in this pack, and he
could see who Z had lined up for trade - they were standing right behind the
man. Dahlia, dolled up like an angel, dressed in slinky white pants that clung
to every soft curve, a white glittering tank top that stopped at her midriff,
showing off her toned brown stomach. Her jacket was held casually over
her arm, and every male that walked past was drooling. Cergan and Reed
stood with her, both tall, strong fighters, each one easily worth more than an
out-of-practice Elf. The three of them together... his heart sank - he might
not feel that they needed him, but he wanted desperately to stay with this pack.
Even if they decided against the cub, once they found out, they were already
better than the Dead. Besides, if he was given back to Z, he knew he was in
for an ugly punishment for leaving without once looking back. He’d been
punished before - he forced down a shudder.

Reggan was eyeing Z, a bit of humor showing on his face behind the expressionless
sunglasses. “What do you think I might be interested in?”

Z smirked, then winced when it hurt his face, and motioned to the three standing
behind him. “Take your pick, or take ‘em all.”

Reggan snorted and walked forward, circling them once and moving back to his
pack. It was hardly enough of a look to be polite, and he’d seriously considered
not even doing that.

“No offense to ‘em... well, to the fighters. But I’ll keep what I got.” He jerked
his head to his pack, moving forward past the Dead, all of whom were gazing
at them, open mouthed. He’d turned down Dahlia again?! There wasn’t
enough astonishment to go around. Triaan kept on their heels, hoping to
avoid what was going to happen next, but he should have known better.
Z’s hand clamped down hard on his arm, jerking him to a standstill.

“The *hell* do you think you’re doing?” He hissed. “You got any idea what
I’m going to do to you when I get you back? And didn’t I tell you not to wear
your hair like that?” He reached for the hair tie, only to have his own wrist
caught in a bruising grip.

“Hands off him.” Reggan’s voice was cool, dangerous. Z quickly let go of
Triaan’s arm, and the Elf stepped away from them both, wary as to what would
happen next. Reggan didn’t drop the wrist he had - he squeezed it until Z yelped.
“He’s mine now. Stay away from my Pack. That goes for all of you.” He didn’t
look at the other Dead, but they knew he meant them. He dropped Z’s wrist and
stalked away to where his Pack was waiting.

Triaan’s eyes had gone impossibly wide at that word, and he moved swiftly to
a spot about four feet away from the others. Reggan scowled at him, but said
nothing, leaving him unsure if he was angry over his continued distance or that
he’d caused the recent incident. Depression was gripping him hard now, despite
the wonder he’d felt at the word ‘Pack’ and not being traded for members he
*knew* would be more of an asset than he would. ‘Depression and confusion
- always favorite emotions’, he though sourly.

“You two know what to do.” Reggan’s voice drug him back to the present,
and he saw him looking at Hana and Dar, who were nodding in agreement.

“This ain’t gonna be for too long, huh?” Dar asked, his voice unhappy.

Reggan laughed. “No, man, just long enough. Protect the Pack, huh?”

“Always.” Dar agreed, the unhappiness gone.

Reggan and the others laughed again, and Hana poked her mate cheerfully.
“Don’t get too down, baby, you might actually learn something this time.”

Dar rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what’s got me down, woman.” The others
laughed again. Triaan was confused, no idea what they were talking about, but
he felt a tiny thrill of happiness. The Dead never laughed and joked with each
other like this. Another plus for his new Pack.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out what Reggan had ordered them to do - in
each of his first three classes, he had either Hana, Dar, or both. They sat near
him, although they didn’t smother him like the Dead used to, and their presence
was enough of a reminder to keep the other gangs away - for now. He saw the l
eader of the Rhinos eyeing him, and wondered if he was going to challenge Reggan,
or just try to seduce him away. Didn’t matter right now - they’d wait until they
had more chances to study Reggan. None of the smaller gangs were as reckless
as Z. It was a wonder he’d kept control of the Dead for as long as he had.

At lunch he followed Hana to the table Reggan and Kyra had claimed on their
first day. It was a good choice, a corner table with an excellent view of the
cafeteria. The other people who had been eating there had been wise enough
to move away. Triaan sat several seats away from the rest and picked at his
lunch tray. He could feel Z’s eyes boring into his back, and it killed his
appetite - but he *would not* give the prick the satisfaction of turning to look
at him.

Reggan watched him with amusement, admiring his Elf’s self control. At the
same time he wished he’d broken Z’s arm for daring to touch him, wished he
could put the man’s eyes out for bothering Triaan now. He could tell that was
the reason he was barely eating, and he had a mad desire to stuff all that food
down Triaan’s throat - he could see the slender body better in the clothes he’d
given him, and although it was pleasantly muscled, it was far too thin. He
realized that Z had been trying to keep Triaan out of condition to challenge
him, but it angered him that a leader would allow a member of his pack to
get so thin and tired. Although - he smirked a little at his next thought - it
would make this evening that much easier, on Triaan as well as himself.

Triaan made it through the rest of lunch, through Math and English with no
problems. He approached the Art classroom reluctantly - this was the class
he shared with Dahlia, and he knew that after the rejection she’d gotten this
morning, she was going to be *Pissed Off*. He wondered if she’d try to sit
with him or Reggan - he wasn’t about to give in and try to sit close to his new
leader. Not yet. Reggan took care of the problem. He sat down and grabbed
Triaan’s sleeve, pulling him in the seat next to him, against the wall. Dahlia came
in a heartbeat later, and Triaan nearly died when he saw the lovely smile on her
face. He knew from experience that was more dangerous than a scowl.

She floated across the room in her beautiful white clothes, every eye on her
and she knew it. She perched on the high stool next to Reggan’s and beamed
at him. “Hello, handsome.” Her voice was low and throaty, and she leaned
forward to gaze at his easel, and the single black line he’d scrawled across the
paper. “What’s that going to be, hmm?” She purred, knowing she was giving
him a view straight down the loose front of the tank top. Triaan kept his own
eyes on his easel, realizing that she was pointedly ignoring him. Reggan didn’t
answer her, added another line below the one he’d already drawn.

Triaan tried to tune out the girl’s chattering and the rough-voiced responses
Reggan finally started to make. He drew circles on his paper, six of them,
each a different color. Gold was Reggan, green was Kyra, red for Keith,
blue for Hana and brown for Dar. They were arranged in a loose circle, lots
of space in between. He picked up black to draw his own circle far down at
the corner of the paper, when a big hand closed over his and lifted his fingers,
guiding them to draw the black circle right next to the golden one. His eyes
went huge, and he stayed staring at the paper even when the bell rang and
Reggan got up.

“I miss you, baby.” Dahlia’s voice purred in his ear, breaking his trance. He
leapt to his feet and took off after Reggan, who was walking from the room
with his steps exaggerated and slow. Art was the last class - the rest of the
Pack was waiting for them at the foot of the steps outside, and they all started
out for home. Triaan trailed them again, letting the distance stay at three yards
now. Another hour and a half and his first day with them would be over - he’d
be informed of his place in the Pack *if* they followed the pattern. So far they
had - he only hoped they would keep it up.

They reached home without incident, and Triaan once again waited while the
door was unlocked. This time no one had to tell him to go in - he slid inside
after the others, took off his shoes like they did, and headed straight for his
spot against the wall. He watched while the others changed into casual clothes,
while Reggan, Dar and Keith went through the middle door, the one he had no
idea were it lead, and closed it behind them. The girls went to the weight
machines and he watched, wishing he dared interfere when Hana did a few
risky exercises. She jumped up suddenly and dashed for the bathroom.
Triaan and Kyra could easily hear her vomiting.

“This is the second week she’s been sick.” Kyra spoke to the ceiling. “We’re
worried - she won’t go to the doctor. Says she’s just throwing up. I wish so
much we knew what was wrong with her.”

‘Nothing.’ Triaan wanted to say. ‘Nothings wrong with her, she just needs to
keep crackers with her, needs to be careful how quickly she moves, needs to
be careful what she does. Don’t any of you recognize pregnancy when you see
it?’

Kyra was still holding a discussion with the ceiling.

“I’ve heard that some Harkian Elves know a lot about healing. That they can tell
what’s wrong with a person and know exactly how to fix it.” She glanced at him,
and he kept his face as blank as the plain white walls. She sighed and glanced at
her watch. “Fifty-five more minutes.”

Hana came out a moment later and gave her a watery smile. They both took out
some knitting and started work, both making what appeared to be large grey
sweaters. Triaan would have liked one - the evening was cooling off; although
the girls seemed to think it felt good, he was freezing. He folded his arms tight
against his ribs and fought down shivers. After another half an hour they started
a dinner that would apparently consist of pasta and vegetables. He knew by his
internal clock when it had been exactly twenty-four hours since Z had choked
‘Yes’ to Reggan’s demand to yield - and apparently he wasn’t the only one.

The middle door swung open and the three boys came back into the room,
covered in grease and wiping their hands on dirty towels.

“Food’s ready. Wash up.” Kyra ordered, and they obeyed, coming to the table
relatively clean. Reggan sat down and stared at Triaan. So did the rest of them.
He stared back, keeping his face neutral, waiting. Finally, Reggan spoke, three
quiet words.

“Get over here.”

And Triaan got to his feet obediently and moved to the table, sitting down in the
spot Reggan indicated, next to him, across from Kyra. Reggan sat at the end of
the table, the other four all sat along the side to his left. It was a long table. Hana
reached a plate across and he took it silently. They chattered while they passed
the dishes back and forth, he accepted them wordlessly, took a little food, and
passed them on just as mutely.

Reggan scowled when he saw how little the Elf was eating, but he let it go for
now. He hoped it was just nerves that gave him such a poor appetite. If this
was his regular eating habit, they were going to have a serious discussion. He
turned his attention to Hana, who was shoveling in the food like there was no
tomorrow.

“Feeling better?” He chuckled. She nodded, eyes bright.

Dar grinned. “Good. I was getting worried. You ain’t been sick today,
have you?”

Hana paused, and Kyra answered for her. “She was sick about an hour ago.”

That wiped the smiles from Dar and Ryu’s faces.

“Aw, Hana, what’s going on? You really got to go to the doctor.”

She shook her head and opened her mouth to argue, but Kyra cut her off.
“Maybe not.” She said softly, and they all turned to see her gazing at Triaan,
her eyes questioning.

Dar didn’t give her time to go on - he jumped right into *that.* “Do you know what’s
wrong with Hana?” He demanded, staring at the Elf. Triaan hesitated, then shook
his head. Dar frowned - that hesitation left him doubtful.

Ryu as well, apparently. “Triaan. Do you know why Hana is sick?”

Now Triaan nodded, no hesitation at all.

“Then what’s *wrong?*” Dar cried, impatient. Triaan swallowed, shook his head
again. Dar looked like he was about to come out of his seat and shake the elf, but
Keith interrupted.

“You’re asking wrong. Triaan, please tell us why Hana is sick. Is there something
wrong with her?” He knew enough about Harkians to know they were extremely
literal. Triaan realized he was going to have to talk, and hoped he wasn’t going to
get blasted for it - Z never let him speak to anyone but him.

“Nothing is wrong.” He said softly, his low, musical voice sending shivers up Ryu’s
spine.

“Oh, don’t tell me that! Something’s going on, why else would she be so sick all
the time?!” Dar nearly screamed at him. Hana frowned and smacked him lightly.

“Quit being such an idiot. Keith said you were asking wrong, don’t you listen?”
She turned to Triaan. “Please tell me what’s going on. You do know, don’t you?”

Triaan nodded, solemn. He was about to find out something important about his
Pack, and was dreading that it was going to be completely unlike what he wanted.

“Then... then tell me.” Her features settled into an anxious grimace.

Triaan took one settling breath, and replied.

“Baby.”


.