Training. That’s been my summer so far. Morning training, afternoon training, night training. Strength and muscle building, developing dexterity, learning to react to a threat without stopping to think. The first day, Dad seemed surprised, but said nothing. On day three, Mom gave me extra eggs and bacon for breakfast, and Dad broke the silence. 

“Ari, you know,” he started while still staring at the coffee in his mug, “you don’t have to train. You don’t have any shoes to fill, but your own.” 

I took a sip of my energy drink to give myself a second more to think. Am I doing this to fill Brad’s shoes? “That’s not it, Dad.” 

He looked at me curiously, “Then what is it?” 

I shrugged half-heartedly, “I dunno. It’s just what I’m doing.” I went back to shoveling food into my mouth. When I finished, I cleared my plate and thanked Mom with a kiss on the cheek. I patted Dad’s shoulder, “see ya there, old man.” 

I still thought about Dad’s concern. Am I doing this because of my brother’s stupid mistake? Or am I doing this because it’s what I want? Of course, the thought that my reason has anything to do with Brad leaves a bad taste in my mouth. We’ve never been close, even in the beginning. There were times he acted like a normal brother, and times he fell short. Those times hurt, so I withdrew from him. I called him my brother, but it was just an empty word. 

Late one night, while on patrol training, I felt an instinctual need to step off the path. I moved silently away from the trodden earth, every step, and breath carefully measured to conceal myself. I watched as my companions did the same. Without having shifted, so without my wolf, my senses are dull compared to the trainer, and the older trainees. Still, though, something made my skin crawl.  

In books I’ve read, the attacker comes “out of nowhere.” But that’s not what happened. I was looking there, at the spot where he materialized. I’m not sure what I was looking at, but it became him in a matter of milliseconds. In that time, I also realized, this was not the other trainer. This was an actual attack! I didn’t think; I didn’t hesitate.  

I launched myself at this wolf, blocking his bite with the bracer on my left forearm, and fluidly bringing my knife around in my right hand, sinking it into his throat. His teeth dug into my bracer, and he let out a high-pitched whine. His blood oozed from the puncture covering my hand and making it difficult to pull my knife back to me. His large paws jabbed at my stomach, pushing me and throwing me out of balance. As I fell backwards, I did manage to wrench my knife free, but I could not keep it in my grip and lost it in the brush.  

I landed hard on my lower back with him on top. He let go of my arm, taking aim to tear at my throat this time. I attempted to block him with my right arm. I wasn’t strong enough to throw him off me and could only deflect his head momentarily. It was too late; my movements had left my center completely unguarded. In a smooth motion he ducked his head under my arm and lunged again for my neck.  

In my panic, I was aware that my companions had shifted and were fighting their own battles. Time felt meaningless all of a sudden. I could describe the wolf in front of me, and the scene perfectly. I’d have time to write it all out or draw it myself. But instead of paying any attention to it, I thought to myself, is this what Mother saw the day she died? Was she able to take the time to realize and regret the mistake she made that left her open to the enemy? Dad has never spoken specifically about the battle, but Mother had been a warrior. Surely, she didn’t go down this easy. Did she have time to beg the moon goddess to keep Dad and I safe? Mother? Goddess? Someone, I am not ready to leave. I have a family, a home, and an Alpha to protect.  

In contrast to how it felt, time did not actually stop. Neither did my backward momentum. With his paws on my chest and his teeth baring down on me, I couldn’t draw a breath. Desperate to live, I tried to bring up both of my hands to push his massive head away. My left arm did not respond, and my right wasn’t fast enough. I did manage to dig my nails into the wounded flesh where my knife had been, but it didn’t seem to cause him any pain.  

I could feel his breath on my bare skin, and I prepared for his bite. I was not, however, prepared for the back of my head finally making contact with the ground. Sharp pain bloomed from where it hit, making my vision waver and explode in a shower of lights. Dazed, I couldn’t tell exactly what happened next. I do know that the attacking wolves were stopped and apprehended all while I was still unable to comprehend what was going on around me.  

The ache in my head was only rivaled by the pain in my arm. Dad rushed to my side as soon as someone alerted him and Alpha to the attack. While the offending wolves were marched off to some holding cells, Dad took quick note of my apparently broken left arm, and scooped me up, careful to cradle my arm between us. He ran me the whole way to the pack clinic where we met up with Luna and Doc Schmidt.  

I could see, but the pain in my head felt like I shouldn’t be able to see, and the bright lights of the clinic made it so much worse. I don’t remember a whole lot about the x-rays, my arm being set, or anything else that night.  

I remember waking up in a darkened room in the pack house, with Mom asleep beside me. Whatever they gave me for pain was wearing off, but I didn’t want to disturb her. I watched her careworn face for a while. Mother would have been here too, right? I slipped my hand around hers and felt her warmth. This is what I want to protect. The families of this pack, I want them to be safe to love and grow old and live their lives. It’s not Brad’s shoes I want to fill. It’s the legacy of my mothers and father. Beyond that, there’s more. I don’t know what it is yet, but for now, this is enough. This is where I am going, and this is why.  

Mom’s eyes fluttered open and met mine. She pulled my hand to her lips and gave me a soft kiss. “How’re you feeling, Ari?”