Read Online The Dog Master by W. Bruce Cameron - Free Book Online Page B

put his hands on his hips, straining to speak without sounding breathless.
    â€œThis is true.”
    â€œShe has good breasts.”
    â€œThat does seem important to you,” Silex observed mildly. “You have said it before.”
    Duro’s scowl deepened. “You are not large and are not as strong as me.”
    â€œYet, my father chose me to lead the Wolfen, and it is I who have given tribute to the wolves.”
    â€œYour father is dead.”
    â€œYou have said that before, too.”
    â€œYou are a boy. That is what matters,” Duro insisted. “In the wolf pack, the males will challenge to see which one mates with the largest female.”
    Silex sighed. “You are forgetting that my father taught us that there are times when we cannot be exactly the same as our wolf benefactors. Would you vomit up your food to feed our young?”
    â€œYour father,” Duro sneered.
    â€œIs dead,” Silex interrupted. “Yes, I know.”
    Simultaneously, both hunting parties returned. Silex could tell by their expressions that neither group had found the wolves, but the two young men on his right had found something else.
    â€œKindred,” they reported, pointing over some low hills. “Hunters.”
    Silex considered this. The Kindred usually traveled in large parties, often with many times more men as the Wolfen.
    â€œWell?” Duro taunted. “Do we run away? Or do we show the Kindred that the Wolfen fight when they trespass on our side of the river?”
    The abrupt dare was so startling that, without context, the rest of the hunters could only gape at Duro. Silex, though, pretended the challenge was not at all obnoxious, giving his face a contemplative expression. “Of course we do neither,” he finally said carefully. “We do as the wolf would do. We observe them unseen while continuing the hunt.”
    Silex did not wait for acknowledgment—he simply turned and ran toward where he hoped they would regain the wolves’ trail.
    â€œWhen I am leader,” Duro hissed at Silex, “I will attack the trespassers. I will kill them all!”
    *   *   *
    The wolves had killed, and the scent of blood sweetened the wind with a wild succulence. What little remained of the two elk calves stained the dirt. The wolves were wagging and playing near the stain, touching noses and tumbling with the pups. The large she-wolf lifted her snout and sniffed. It felt as if a howl was coming, a song of joy.
    The dominant bitch, Smoke, was not nearby; her scent was barely detectable above the blood. Perhaps that was why the wolves were so insouciant—without Smoke making her increasingly hostile moves, the pack was relaxed.
    Three times the large female had been abruptly and viciously challenged by Smoke, and in all three instances the younger she-wolf had opted for the good of the pack, accepting the punishment, submitting to it. Her anodyne behavior calmed the other wolves, but Smoke thus far was unmollified.
    Disappointed that the pack came to the verge of a howl before the mood shifted and the wolves opted to curl up with full bellies and nap instead, the she-wolf trotted off in search of the two young males who, more and more, were her companions each day. The woods here were thick, fallen logs damp underneath from a recent rain. The she-wolf gracefully leaped over the trunk of a downed tree, and that’s when the dominant bitch struck.
    There was no warning, just a blindsiding attack. Smoke must have been lying patiently just on the other side of the log, the wind sweeping her scent away, watching as the younger wolf approached. Now Smoke lunged, growling, her chest slamming into the larger she-wolf, teeth slashing, drawing blood.
    The younger she-wolf rose up on her rear legs and the two wolves engaged in a brief, vicious battle, their voices mingling in a shockingly ugly growl. This was it, a fight for dominance, for fate.
    And then