Free The Pack by Dayna Lorentz Page A

didn’t like the lay of her fur.”
    The memory of Kaz’s huge body slumped in a pool of her own lifeblood blinded Shep for a heartbeat.
    â€œYou don’t have to bother about her,” barked Higgins. “Shep defeated her in a devilish fierce scrap.”
    Shep’s vision cleared and caught Blaze’s stare — a mix of awe and ownership.
    â€œThat’s my Shepherd,” she woofed, then ducked back up into the room above.
    Callie grimaced at the door-hole in the ceiling, a low growl rumbling from her muzzle.
    The holes in the floor led into a narrow food room. Shep opened all the cabinets, and Higgins set about figuring out how much edible kibble they’d stumbled upon. Shep left Higgins piling packets of food and pulled himself up into the hallway, then through the door-hole into the ceiling room.
    The ceiling-hole led into what had once been a food-eating room. It had a windowed ceiling and the end of the room closest to the rear of the boat was open to the main, fancy den. Blaze was in the process of shoving a long wooden table toward that opening. She jammed her shoulder into the table’s leg and the table tottered, then slid down into the fancy den. The bottom of the table landed with a crash on a toppled sofa, but the end nearest Shep leaned against the floor of the ceiling room.
    â€œWhat did you do that for?” Shep woofed.
    Callie answered his question. “Okay, great! Now the chairs!” she bellowed from the main den.
    â€œShe’s a pushy little yapper,” Blaze said to Shep, “but her brain’s kicking with all four paws.”
    Shep helped Blaze drag the chairs to the edge of the opening, and Blaze explained Callie’s plans. “She thought of using the table as a ramp, so that the smaller dogs could get up here. I haven’t the foggiest scent of what she’s doing with the chairs.”
    Once Shep and Blaze shoved the chairs down, Callie nosed them together to make a more sturdy ramp than Higgins’s cushion from the main den up the half-wall into the hallway.
    â€œThat’s a well-furred idea if I’ve ever smelled one,” woofed Blaze as she marveled at Callie’s engineering.
    Callie’s tail wagged at the compliment — almost, it seemed, against her will.
    Both doors at the end of the hall were easily defeated — they had the best kinds of knobs: the flat, slappable kind. The first door opened into a large room that tapered to a point — the front of the boat. There was a gigantic human bed-cushion splayed on the curved floor (which had been the wall when the boat was upright). The floor and ceiling were inset with small, tinted windows. Just above the entry door was another door. Shep and Blaze piled pillows into a ramp to get up to it and found that the door opened into a tiny Bath room, complete with working water paws. Because the boat was on its side, the water paws and bowls were an easy stretch from the floor; even Callie could swat them and get a slurp of water.
    â€œI claim this room for Shep!” barked Blaze. “He’s the alpha, so he gets the best den.”
    Just as Shep was about the mark the door frame, Callie snorted her disapproval.
    â€œWhat does he need this huge space for?” she yapped. “No, this big den should be for dams and pups, or sick dogs.” She sniffed the giant mattress and pawed at the overstuffed pillows strewn around it. “Yes, this will be a perfect, quiet, dark den for them.”
    Shep whimpered softly — he’d liked the idea of himself, and perhaps Blaze, curled up on that giant bed — but he knew Callie was right. “This is a perfect sick den,” he woofed, loping back into the hallway.
    Blaze followed him out of the room. “Who’s the alpha of this pack again?” she snarled.
    The other door at the end of the hall, which was in the floor, opened into an enclosed stairwell. One set of stairs led to the