Chapter 31

Squatch.

My kitten had never ridden in a helicopter before, and she wasn’t dealing well with it. I didn’t want her ambush to smell her in a panic, and Nathan had the same idea as me.

“Val, you need to breathe. We’re landing outside the ambush fence in a few minutes.”

“Shouldn’t we have, like...” She squeezed her eyes closed, “Shouldn’t we have a pilot, Your Majesty?”

I squeezed her hand a little. His Majesty was piloting the ’copter, and I hoped he didn’t take offense.

“As much as I want to tease you and tell you I printed my license out before I left the office this morning, you’re terrified, so you should know I had a license to pilot a helicopter within a few years of the birds being available for purchase. I was flying them before there was a computer to assist.” He took a deep breath and reached back with an arm. “Touch me, Val.”

She tentatively rested her hand on his, and I felt her relax. Her breathing evened out, and she no longer stank of fear.

“What did you do?” I asked him.

“Shared my calm with her.” He pulled his arm back and placed it on a control. “The effect is stronger with contact, but I can’t hold her hand while I land.”

“Focus on how it feels to be calm,” I told her. “You’re fine. You trust His Majesty.”

The helicopter came to a soft landing in a field just outside the ambush, and Kitty and I stayed put until we were given the all-clear to remove our seatbelts and exit the vehicle.

The three of us walked to the gate of the ambush, and a Drake Security employee stayed with the helicopter to make sure no one messed with it. You don’t want to find out someone cut a hydraulic hose after you’re up in the air.

Our ‘welcoming’ committee looked more like a military standoff, but we walked to the gate and stood, waiting for someone to speak.

Kitty’s father finally broke the silence, his voice an angry vibration I wanted to swat. Or punch.

“Our agreement didn’t allow for you to bring the wolf, Valentina.”

“No, it didn’t,” the Lion King said, and his voice was the calm of a deep ocean, full of sharks and stingrays and other assorted beings with teeth and worse. “But I told you I’d be bringing a guest when I invited myself. You put no stipulations on my guest.”

“So our king is choosing sides?” Vincenzo asked. The asshole has balls of brass.

“Val is mine, as are you, and so is Mike. I asked you to send Mike away for this day, the first time Val returns, and you refused, as is your right. I want to spend the day getting to know the residents of your ambush, but if I have to stick with Val all day to provide moral support around her ‘uncle’, it would interfere with my ability to properly get to know even the smallest in this community. So, I brought someone else to provide Val moral support. If you choose to take issue with this, I can put Mike in a cage outside the ambush and have Squatch stand guard over him for the day.”

Vincenzo’s stance was that Mike was following his orders, and he’d taken the consequences that should have gone to Mike — though His Majesty had told Kitty and me that we didn’t need to know what he’d deemed appropriate. Following this logic, if someone were to be kicked out of the day’s celebration as a consequence of Mike’s actions, it would be Vincenzo, and not Mike. The Amakhosi wanted to keep Kitty from having to come face-to-face with her Uncle Mikey, but he wasn’t willing to step outside the rules to make it happen. He could have, but I understood why he didn’t. Besides, as Kitty had told him a few days earlier, she was going to have to see Mike eventually, so it may as well be sooner rather than later.

However, on this day, His Majesty wasn’t speaking in terms of who’d done what in the past, but in terms of what needed to happen in order for him to do his job as King during the solstice celebration — and that would allow him to cage Mike and put me in charge of guarding him.

Vincenzo took a good minute to think through His Majesty’s reasoning and decide he didn’t have a corresponding move. He gave a signal, the guards moved away from the entrance, and Vincenzo welcomed us to their summer solstice celebration.

* * * *

Kitty For this first visit, my father had agreed I could just come for the evening portion, and not have to come for the sunrise celebration, which would’ve meant spending the entire day, and needing to nap. I’d pointed out that we both wanted this first visit to go as well as possible, and that probably meant keeping it short.

So, we were here an hour before sunset, and I walked between His Majesty and Squatch on the way to the field. As I expected, the bonfire wood was already placed, and a small fire blazed at the outer edge of the field. Someone only needed to move logs already on fire under the huge structure, and our bonfire would catch and hold.

It’s always seemed odd to me that we celebrate the longest day by focusing on the beginning and end, napping through the day, and staying awake most of the night with a bonfire so big it may as well be day. As a child, I wanted to swim and play on the longest day of the year. Not nap.

As an adult, I understood why this was the practice before we had air conditioning. Summer in South Carolina can be brutal. Alabama as well. The bonfire was set on one end of the field, the stage on the other. It provided light, and we stayed away from the heat.

I’d never before considered the fact I’d stayed on a similar latitude when I’d moved, so I lived in the same heat. I’d probably have done better to move farther away, but I’d hoped Brooke would want to help me. Plus, I’d heard my cousins say they were staying out of Alabama.

Squatch let my hand go so I could hug aunts and cousins. I noted only my female relatives and friends had formed a group around me. The men were likely angry with me for leaving, the women understood. Not all of them — several I’d expected to be close with a hug were standing with their spouses, glaring at me. I tried not to take it personally. It’s possible they couldn’t defy their husband by openly welcoming me back, but it was also possible they were angry with me for leaving. I wouldn’t know until I talked to them away from their husband.

The rule is, having two healthy babies with the same man meant you married him. For the first time, it occurred to me the men didn’t have a full say in who they married, either.

My dad’s voice rang out, and we all turned to the stage.

“My Valentina has returned to help us celebrate our longest day and shortest night! Accompanying her are His Majesty the Amakhosi, and a wolf lover named Sasquatch. All three have been given safe passage, assuming they do nothing to break the truce.”

Squatch squeezed my hand. He’d promised to behave as long as everyone else did as well, and that was the best I was going to get from him.

A portion of our festival field has benches laid out in circular arcs around the stage, and the women had been sitting and talking when we’d arrived. They’d stood and come to us, but now, we went back and sat to wait for nightfall. Squatch, of course, sat and pulled me into his lap, but I was good with that. I wanted his arms around me so no one else could touch me.

Touch is big in the ambush, but it’s about belonging, and I didn’t feel as if I belonged here anymore.

“Your Sasquatch appears to me to be more than a lover, Val.”

This from one of the Ambush’s teachers. We have four, who are responsible for teaching everything. The girls are taught to read and handle basic math, but the boys are taught enough to be able to take the college exams and make it into the highest levels of education.

“He is, Mrs. Ouro. Daddy introduced him as Sasquatch, but he goes by Squatch.”

And here is where things might get dicey. Girls in the ambush are kept away from the concept of romantic love. I’d only recently learned about Romeo and Juliet, and the person who’d casually mentioned them had been shocked I’d never heard of them. My education was sorely lacking because I hadn’t been exposed to any classic with the idea of romantic love. We didn’t watch television, and we weren’t allowed on the internet. The teachers used computers to aid in our education, but we only had access to the software they allowed.

Arranged pairings for procreation were our way of life. Sometimes, a girl was given to another ambush for three months, and she’d be returned at the end, pregnant or not. Sometimes, if the girl was pregnant, she’d stay for another year, or two. Sometimes, the procreation deal required her to marry the father and permanently move to the other ambush should they produce a single healthy child. But always, this was her leader’s decision, and not her own.

My father had been quite clear that I wasn’t to talk about my love for Squatch. I could talk about needing his protection, but he didn’t want me exposing the girls and women to the idea of romantic love.

“If he’s more than a lover,” one of my younger cousins asked, “what is he?”

I looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Mine.” I looked back to my cousin. “He’s mine, and I’m his. I’m not sure I can explain it any other way.” Because my father had forbidden me from doing so.

“Wolves are monogamous.” Mrs. Ouro helped decide our curriculum, so she had to know about the concept of true love, otherwise she’d have given us the wrong books to read. I wasn’t surprised she’d landed on at least the edge of the truth.

“They are, but I find I don’t mind being claimed by one.” I sighed. “Daddy doesn’t want me talking much about myself, and I don’t want to upset him, so please help with that by not asking questions. I’d love to hear what’s been going on here since I left.”

“He doesn’t want you talking about life outside the ambush because he’s afraid more of us might try to escape.” This from another of my cousins, and she wasn’t finished. “Things are so much harder for us now. He even implanted devices under our skin in the backs of our necks, so we can be tracked if we ever try to leave!”

I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I’d never thought my father would go to those extremes, but I suppose I should have. Finally, I managed to ask, “Does His Majesty know?”

“I assume you’ll tell him if he doesn’t?” Mrs. Ouro said, her voice so quiet, I barely heard her.

I gave her a tiny nod and looked back to my cousin. “I’m not sorry I left, but I’m sorry it’s made things harder for you. The truth is, most of you would be miserable in the outside world. The first month or two was so hard, while I learned the ways of outside society. Even now, it’s hard, but I’ve always been the one who didn’t really fit in here, so for me, it’s been worth it. I’m not certain it would be for most of you.”

Because life in here is so fucking different than life outside, and that was my father’s fault, but it couldn’t be changed for those who’d grown up in this life.

“Are all the men so big?” another cousin asked.

I smiled. “No. Most men are about the size of most of our men. Perhaps a little smaller on average, but about the same. Squatch is huge.”

“His hand is bigger than your face!” This from one of the juveniles, and I smiled down at her. “You’ll be in trouble when they realize you’ve snuck away from the kids’ activities.”

The children spend the evening and night in one of our large gathering rooms, where they’ll all sleep on little foldable cots while their parents are enjoying the festivities. You have to be fourteen to be allowed to join the adults until midnight, and eighteen before you can stay up until dawn.

Unless you become a mom, at which point, you’re considered eighteen, even if you’re only twelve. All education stops once you’re pregnant. Every twelve-year-old in the ambush hopes they’ll be given to someone early so they can be an adult, but few are in our generation. It had been the norm for our grandparents, but I figured the men who’d been sent out to get law degrees had likely advised the ambush leaders to raise the age at which they gave their girls to be impregnated. They got around the rules by traveling to states where the legal age is low, and where the age difference is taken into consideration. In Utah, the age of consent is eighteen, but so long as the age difference is ten years or less and it’s all consensual, Utah doesn’t usually care, though it’s safest if the girl is sixteen. It’s easier to make the girl younger in North Carolina, where a fourteen-year-old and seventeen-year-old are legal so long as the DA doesn’t want to push it, and our people know which counties are safe.

Also, if a young teen and older adult marry, then it’s legal. When I was ten, a fourteen-year-old friend had been forced into marriage with a forty-one-year-old man from another ambush. Their triplets were born without any birth defects, so the science worked. Two of the children had been returned to our ambush, and one child was kept by the parents. My friend had more healthy kids after, and had been allowed to keep more of them, but a portion always came back to the home ambush, usually raised by the grandparents, but sometimes an aunt or uncle.

I managed to get the women talking about who’d had babies, and how the babies were doing. The conversation should have been a happy one, but all I could think about was that I didn’t really want any of my children to be raised in the ambush. I’d forgotten how ignorant they kept their girls.

It was too late to renegotiate, though. I’d agreed to allow women within the ambush to adopt and then raise my children. Of course, I’d also agreed I could be a beloved aunt, and that I’d be in the children’s lives. Perhaps I could slowly change things inside the ambush. A few words here and few words there, so that in ten years, change had happened slow enough no one noticed.

I knew it wasn’t likely to work unless His Majesty was on board, but I had a feeling he’d help me. I’d seen him go to the children’s area, and I remembered him saying he wanted to get to know even the least of us.

Us? Where had that come from? I was part of the MC, now. They were my family.

And yet, the ambush was also my family. I didn’t belong here anymore, but that didn’t mean they weren’t my family.

My father started calling the dances — it isn’t square dancing because it’s a lot more complicated, but it’s similar, and I’ve always loved hearing his voice drop into the rhythm and cadence to call. Mrs. Ouro reached for my hand on her way to that part of the field and said, “I can be the man, if your Squatch doesn’t like to dance.”

Squatch stood me up from his lap and told her, “I’m here to watch over her tonight, and I can’t do that in this dance, since it looks like partners separate and then eventually make it back together. Thanks for offering, because I can tell she wants to join the fun.”

I leaned down, gave him a quick kiss, and let my old teacher lead me to the dancers. You can’t join in mid-dance, so we stood with the others who were preparing to go in when the caller invited us. Basically, once all of the partners are back together and there’s a pause, then new dancers can join. We waited several minutes, enjoying being this close to the action, and then slid into a formation when my father gave instructions.

And then there was no time to think about anything except what came next. In this dance, I was with my original partner around forty percent of the time, and with random other people the rest, and that was good because it gave me a chance to get a better handle on my welcome. Some of the men and women smiled, happy to see me. A few glared or wouldn’t make eye contact with me. It hurt, but I’d expected it. I’d turned my back on their way of life. In their eyes, I’d spit on our traditions and customs. Now, I’d come back on the arm of a wolf, and I understood why it didn’t sit right with them. I wouldn’t have changed a thing, but I still understood.

And then we all walked to our left, which means we ended up with the partner that had been two people away, and I found myself standing in front of Uncle Mikey. No, I didn’t have to call him that anymore. Mike.

But the dance moves so fast, you follow instructions without thinking about them, which means he grabbed me and swung me in a circle, put me down and let go with one hand but not the other so we could circle each other and then promenade with the rest of our circle until we ended up at the other side. Thankfully, the circle reformed in two lines, and the men’s line stepped forward while the women stood still, and I had another partner.

But I knew I’d see him again because that’s the way contra dancing works. My stomach turned over and threatened to make me sick despite the fact I hadn’t eaten anything in anticipation of the helicopter ride. I hadn’t wanted to get sick while in the air.

Usually, there’s a chance to go in and out of the dance every three to six minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the dance paused and my father was giving instructions. I’d been back in front of Mike three more times, and I’d refused to touch him the final two times. I’d stayed in formation, but I’d stepped away from him and hadn’t let him lay a hand on me. Squatch was waiting for me as soon as I walked away, and I went into his arms.

“I’m okay. He didn’t do anything inappropriate.” I gasped air in, grabbed his hand, and walked away from the dancing, away from the field, into the dark.

And everything would’ve been okay if Mike hadn’t decided to follow us.

“I’m sorry, Val.”

“No, you aren’t,” I told him. “You should leave.”

I couldn’t hit him first. Our safe passage went away if one of us attacked someone, and I knew the men of the ambush wanted nothing more than an excuse to rip my wolf to shreds. Not only were we vastly outnumbered, but if everyone changed then it would be a bunch of tigers against a tiger and a sole wolf. His Majesty may or may not step in, depending on what had started it. I’d yet to figure out for certain how his loyalties worked.

I squeezed Squatch’s hand, and he understood that I wanted to handle this. I have no idea how I knew, but I did. I let go of his hand, stepped in front of him, and felt his hands at my sides. He had my back. He’d always have my back.

“I didn’t understand what I felt, when I was a child, but I’m not a child anymore, and I understand so much more. I’m still not certain if you’re a pedophile, or if you just enjoy dominating helpless females, but either way, you’re a sick fuck and I can’t believe my father is defending you.”

“I was following orders, Valentina.”

He’d called me by my full name during training sessions, and by the short form of my name the rest of the time. Hearing all four syllables roll out of his mouth made me physically ill, and I squeezed my fists but didn’t go after him.

“You know you’re safe from me striking out at you tonight, or you wouldn’t be in my face taunting me. One day, we’ll meet face-to-face and my father won’t be able to protect you.”

And then Julian stepped close enough I could see him and smell him, and my heart broke a little. If I’d been allowed to choose a boyfriend, it would’ve been Julian. He was two years older than me, and I’d had more than a crush on him. As soon as my father figured it out, he gave him to one of my close friends. Well, matched them together, but in my mind, it was the same thing.

“Would you believe me if I told you most of the men had no idea what he was doing?” Julian asked me.

“Yeah, I would. We always had to change after a session with him. It was supposed to be a run to get rid of the sexual energy, so we wouldn’t contaminate anyone with it, but I now understand it was about getting his scent off of us.” I touched Squatch’s hand at my side. “Squatch, this is Julian. Julian, Squatch.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Julian,” Squatch said from behind me. “Thank you for being a friend to my kitten.”

I chuckled. “We had this talk earlier, Squatch. You can’t keep calling me your kitten around the other tigers.”

“I understood exactly what you said and meant, Kitten, just as Julian understands why I used it.”

“Yeah,” Julian said with a grin. “You’re his. I’m happy for you, Val. Really, really happy for you.”

Mike was standing off to the side now. Forgotten. Ignored. I’d turned to face Julian, but I could do that because I knew Squatch had my back — and my side.

“Everyone wants the stuck-up royal little cunt, don’t they?” Mike said from my side, and I could feel the anger vibrating off him. “The perfect little princess made from designer genes, and destined to make perfect little babies once her prince came of age. Too good for anyone else to stick their dick in, but I’ve had my dick in you more times than any of us can count, haven’t I, Princess Valentina?”

Mike was so pissed, had held all of that back for so long, that he didn’t realize what Squatch had done. I have no idea how he managed it, but Mike’s words were coming out over the loudspeaker where my father’s voice and the dance music had been blasting only seconds before. Two hundred yards of trees masked it, but it was easy to hear if you were listening. Mike was too far into his own head to hear it, apparently.

I was certain Squatch had done it and not Julian because of the calm touch of the wolf’s hand on my hip. Or I was pretty sure, anyway. Plus, one of his hands had pulled away a split second before the music stopped and Mike’s voice replaced it.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I told Mike. “Is it that you’re a pedophile, or that you get your rocks off sexually abusing helpless females, and it doesn’t matter their age?”

My voice, too, went out over the loudspeaker, but Mike didn’t seem to have picked up on it yet.

“Your young inexperienced throat was heaven,” he told me. “I loved making you choke and gag, and then having carte blanche to punish you for it, when I hadn’t been gentle enough to expect anything else. Heaven. But then I got to bury myself in your ass, and I knew your father wasn’t keeping an eye on me, so I didn’t have to be gentle there either, did I?”

Every tiny hair on my body lifted as a loud, angry roar echoed to us from the festival field. Mike recognized it, and he also realized the music had gone silent.

He froze, knowing something was wrong, but he didn’t understand what’d just happened.