“Can’t you do anything right?”
Their pleasant meal was interrupted by a clatter as a tall, blonde she-wolf tossed her plate on the floor in disgust. Standing, she loomed over the omega server and slapped her across the face, claws extended to gouge several large cuts across her cheek.
“I said ham, cheese, no mushrooms and light pepper, you incompetent mutt!”
“What’s the matter, your highness? Can’t have waffles like a normal person?” Lucille taunted.
The blonde was the daughter of their closest ally, Alpha Thomas of the Blood Moon pack. Since they were pups she had visited their pack often. Sometimes it seemed she spent more time with Blue Moon than her own pack, much to Lucille’s irritation. In fact, none of them could stand her, but they couldn’t simply turn her away.
She turned up a week or so after Jason left on his security tour. They had hoped she would turn around and go home. Instead, she insisted on her usual suite as she wasn’t allowed on the alpha floor.
“If I were you I’d be quiet,” the blonde sneered. “Once I’m Luna there will be changes around here.”
Jason rose to his feet, growling, “You are a guest here, Katrina. You will respect this pack’s ranking members!”
“Oh Jason! You’re back!” the blonde’s attitude changed immediately as she coyly smiled.
“You dare harm a pack member in front of me!” he snarled, his eyes swirling amber as his wolf pressed forward.
“Oh…she’s just a worthless omega. She needs to learn her place.”
Katrina waved off the whimpering she-wolf, doing a double take as Phoebe suddenly appeared with a damp washcloth and gently cleaned the wounds. The omega stared at her with wide eyes, but felt immediately calmed by Phoebe’s silver-gray eyes…as if she was looking into the Moon Goddess’s gaze.
Phoebe tenderly cleaned the wounds, noting the particularly red edges and a slight burnt skin smell which meant only one thing.
‘Silver.’ Máni confirmed.
“Jason, you can’t be lenient with these lower ranks,” Katrina loudly declared. “They need to learn to mind their betters.”
Phoebe’s eyes shimmered silver as she gave the washcloth to the omega and turned on the other she-wolf.
“What do you want?” Katrina sneered.
Without a word, Phoebe slapped her hard across the face, sending her stumbling back in surprise. The cafeteria fell silent, staring at their untested Luna.
“Discipline?” Phoebe declared. “Your idea of discipline is coating your nails in silver and using them on pack members! Wounds like that can maim a wolf for life. That’s your idea of justice for forgetting pepper that’s readily available on the table!”
As Phoebe spoke her aura seeped out, slowly filling the room rivaling Jason’s. Compulsively, Katrina bared her neck before she realized what she was doing. Phoebe turned away in disgust and hurried back to the omega, gently taking back the cloth and continuing to clean the wounds.
“Who the hell do you think…” Katrina suddenly came back to herself, ready to attack the she-wolf who dared humble her.
Jason clutched her hand, glaring at the blood-stained nails with a snarl, “You attacked my pack with silver?”
“No. Yes—No. I didn’t…” Katrina stared at him wide-eyed.
“Leave!” he ordered, sending his alpha authority into his words. “Go home and stay there. You are not welcome here!”
“J-Jason…”
“Get her out of my sight and off my land!” Jason shoved her aside.
Luke and Ben were immediately on their feet and roughly escorted her to the door, linking pack members for a car and her things. On their way out, they passed Noah and Bridget on a tour of the packhouse.
“Oh Bridget!” Phoebe eagerly called her over. “Do you have any balm with you?”
“Why? What happened?” Bridget immediately fell silent at the sight of the omega. She shared a grim knowing look with Phoebe. “Take her to the pack hospital. I’ll grab it.”
No other words passed between them. Phoebe gently escorted the omega out of the cafeteria, following her directions to the pack hospital. Jason followed, curious about what she planned. Lucille, Norah and the others also trailed behind.
Reaching the hospital, Phoebe looked at the nurses, “We need a room please, a quiet one.”
They hesitated at her request, but complied under Jason’s scrutiny. Phoebe sat the omega down and continued to clean her wounds, knowing the cool water helped ease the burning sensation of silver.
“Alpha,” the doctor arrived.
Helen Evans was a pretty she-wolf with an air of authority even Jason couldn’t dare overrule when it came to medical procedure and knowledge. She had yet to meet her mate and dedicated herself to her pack’s health, unsure if she ever would.
“Doctor,” Jason acknowledged, not taking his gaze off his mate.
“What happened?” she looked into the exam room and saw the strange she-wolf nursing an injured omega. “Who’s that?”
“My mate.”
Helen blinked in surprise, looking at her Alpha with wide eyes. Like everyone else, she heard the rumors, but she hadn’t expected to see her new Luna calmly cleaning wounds while she chatted with the injured omega.
“What’s your name?” Phoebe asked, trying to take the young she-wolf’s attention away from the injury.
“Shannon.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Her name is Phoebe,” Jason told the doctor, watching his mate. “Apparently, Katrina used silver to scratch the omega’s face. The cut looks pretty deep.”
“Oh dear,” Helen shook her head, looking again at the unfortunate omega.
Werewolves had amazing regenerative abilities, but silver wounds were the exception. For them, silver acted like a caustic agent causing chemical burns and slowing their natural regenerative abilities. Wounds caused by silver never healed properly and were guaranteed to scar. While a silver wound could be seen as a badge of honor for a warrior, for a young, unmated she-wolf being maimed for life was a daunting prospect.
“I got it!” Bridget announced, scooting past their audience. “Oh, pardon me, doctor.”
Helen nodded, having already been introduced to the new, prospective nurse. She had conducted an informal interview and was impressed by Bridget’s herbal knowledge and medical skills. She didn’t interfere with Bridget as she took Phoebe’s place and began to treat the omega. This would certainly be a good practical test.
First, Bridget used novocaine to deaden the pain and stitched the worst of the wounds closed. The bleeding had all but stopped, making it easy to work. Before bandaging, she opened a small canister and generously smeared the yellowish balm over the wounds.
“There, I’ll need to see you in a couple of days to check on the healing and reapply the balm,” Bridget said. “All right?”
The omega nodded, fighting tears, “H-how bad is it going to scar?”
“It’s too soon to tell, but I think we’ll be able to avoid scarring completely.”
“R-really?”
Bridget smiled encouragement, “Try to keep the bandage dry.”
“Okay. Thank you! Luna, thank you.”
“Of course,” Phoebe smiled.
They saw the hopeful omega off and Phoebe suddenly found herself wrapped in Jason’s protective embrace. He nuzzled her, whispering, “You were amazing.”
She blushed, noticing he wasn’t alone. Norah, Lucille, Mona, the pups as well as Luke and Ben had joined them along with Noah, who had followed his mate.
“Not bad,” Helen nodded to Bridget after she tossed her gloves and washed up. “But it would be wise not to get the patient’s hopes too high.”
“Sorry?”
“Silver wounds scar no matter how well they are treated,” Helen said.
“That’s why I used this,” Bridget said, giving her the container of balm.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a healing salve. It helps silver wounds heal and prevents scarring.”
“What!”
Bridget jumped as everyone exclaimed in one voice. She stared from one to another before sharing a look with Phoebe, who seemed equally startled.
“Where did this come from?” Helen asked.
“We made it,” Bridget said, nodding to Phoebe.
“We?” Jason stared at Phoebe.
“Bridget did all the work. We just used my kitchen to mix and experiment,” Phoebe explained.
“I’m going to need more information,” Helen said.
“Well…” Bridget hesitated.
“The Luna of our former pack also liked to paint silver on her nails,” Phoebe explained. “Anyone who upset her was at risk of suffering at her hands, so these kinds of wounds were pretty common. Bridget had the idea of creating a healing balm, but the pack doctor thought it was a waste of time and refused to let her use the lab, so we used my kitchen. I also have a pretty extensive herb garden. It made a good place to experiment.”
“And it works?”
“Of course. It speeds healing and prevents scarring,” Bridget nodded. “We had plenty of opportunities to test it, unfortunately.”
“Do you have proof?” Helen said.
“Well…I used it on Phoebe’s leg a couple of days ago,” Bridget said.
Everyone looked at Phoebe, who leaned against Jason, suddenly self-conscious.
“Luna? You were injured?” Helen asked.
Jason sucked in a breath, “She was. There was a rogue attack. The Rimrock pack used silver traps and Phoebe’s leg was caught in one.”
“I stitched them and used the balm before applying bandages,” Bridget said.
“I see. Luna, I think I should examine your injuries.”
“We should change the bandages too,” Bridget added.
Phoebe nodded. Taking the omega’s place, she carefully rolled up her pants' leg and sat back as Bridget carefully undid the wrapping and exposed the rather gruesome wounds. Jason squeezed her hand, growling at the sight. He bowed his head to hers, not wanting to affect the doctor and nurse trying to help her.
“And these were inflicted by silver traps?” Helen asked.
“Is it bad?” Lucille asked, looking at the rather angry-looking wounds that were still raw and healing.
“Actually, I’ve never seen silver wounds heal so quickly. We can already remove these stitches, here and here. I don’t see any signs of infection or disease. There is very little redness. Despite how deep these are…they shouldn’t scar at all.” Helen picked up the canister of balm, opening it and sniffing. “And you can make more?”
“As long as I have the ingredients,” Bridget nodded. “A few are hard to find in large quantities, but most are common enough.”
“And your pack never applied for a patent?” Helen asked.
“We didn’t even think about it,” Bridget looked at Phoebe. “We were just looking to help our fellow pack members.”
“And you made it yourselves…no help from anyone?” Norah asked.
Phoebe and Bridget nodded.
Helen and Norah looked at Jason with knowing gazes. Much like with the human patent process, werewolves had their own. Whether a pack applied for one was at the discretion of the alpha and required rather extensive paperwork, including a complete history of how the product was created and any testing that was done to prove its use and effectiveness. When it came to certain technological advances, they could choose not to file and keep the technology secret. However, if it was stolen or copied, the pack could not seek legal compensation.
However, with medical advances that could benefit the whole of werewolf kind, applying for a patent allowed a pack to make the discovery public as well as control production and distribution, as well as ensure its quality.
Every pack had its specialty. Blue Moon’s specialty was in security: data and physical. They had several computer security programs as well as offered trained security personnel for traveling dignitaries. Anyone would apply to the pack for a security detail, but would also have to sign a waiver that if they engaged in activities against the pack’s standards, protection was null and void.
Treaties with human authorities granted packs the same legal rights as independent nations as well as ensuring friendly trade and fair conduct. Given Blue Moon’s ancient origins, they were not only respected among wolf communities, but treated as an authority by human officials as well, which meant their services were highly sought after.
While Jason was proud of his pack’s extensive network, they weren’t equipped to mass-produce a new healing balm. However, other packs were and if a patent was approved they could make a deal with another pack to produce it. Profits for their pack would be less, but it would mean the balm would be readily available for others to use.
“Bridget,” Jason said, “I’m going to need a detailed history of exactly how the balm was made, ingredients and any results you have as proof. I’ll also need a signed statement proving you and Phoebe are the sole creators and your former pack did not offer any assistance or facilities to aid in its creation. All right?”
“Yes, of course, Alpha,” Bridget nodded.
“So you want to apply for a patent?” Norah asked.
“This is far too important to keep secret. I know Alpha Reed will be interested in a partnership.”
Norah nodded. Their packs would share profits with Harvest Moon handling the manufacturing and distribution. Such an arrangement would ensure the balm was readily available to all werewolves.
“Well, that’s all fine and good, but it can wait,” Lucille announced. “I thought we were going shopping.”
Jason growled.
“Now, Jason,” Norah gently admonished. “Phoebe is going to need a gown for her Luna Ceremony. The next full moon is not far off and it will be a Blue Moon.”
Jason was ready to argue, but the thought of Phoebe in a gown under the light of a full moon made him pause. That was right. She needed a proper Luna Ceremony where she would be officially acknowledged as Blue Moon’s co-leader. It was important not only for her, but the pack. Afterward, they would shift to lead the pack on a moonlit run. He would finally see her wolf if they could coax it out by then.
“Um, Jason?” Phoebe looked at him.
“What do you think, angel?” Jason nuzzled her.
“Well…I guess I don’t really mind,” Phoebe leaned against him.
“There, you see. She wants to go,” Lucille stated before anyone could argue.
“All right,” he sighed. “But you’ll have a full escort.”
“Full!” Lucille cried out indignantly.
Jason glared at her in warning.
“Oh, fine. More hands to carry our bags, I guess.”
“That’s not the purpose of an escort,” Jason growled even as Bridget applied balm and rewrapped Phoebe’s leg after the doctor finished her examination and removed unnecessary stitches.
By the time they were done and Phoebe was on her feet, it had been decided. Norah and Lucille would take Phoebe, Bridget and the pups shopping in Juneau with a full escort of security personnel led by Ben. Jason would settle for nothing less.