Hunter of the Shadows Book 3
Enemy at the Door.
Chapter 18
Please welcome my oldest friend Nita Sanderson as my new beta reader. Thanks for all your support and for seeing me through many a time when I lost all confidence in myself.
Love ya gal!
Now…
Tobius makes a clucking noise with his tongue, and scratches his head.
"We certainly found ourselves in quite the predicament," he says, smiling ruefully.
Lucas snorts, inelegantly. "Now that's an understatement you English can be proud of!"
"I happen to be French by birth, old boy," Tobius shoots back in a fairly decent imitation of Sean Connery. "The wonders of dual nationality."
"French by birth," Lucas replies, sarcastically. "English by default, and sheer stubborn, pigheaded, snooty, looking down their noses at the rest of the world, think they own the bloody Universe…"
Tobius just grins proudly as the good natured insults continue.
"No point in denying the truth," he says when Lucas' tirade finally comes to a close. "The English really are that awesome."
Victoria, who is busy organising more mead, rolls her eyes and gives each wolf a hefty slap across the back of the head.
"Ow!" and "Bugger me that hurt!" is chorused in unison.
"Pack it in, you two!" she casts a baleful grin at Sam and Dean. "Now you know why we tend to keep them apart. It's like trying to run a kindergarten when they get together!"
Sam shakes his head, smiling. "Well, they've certainly shown us another side to being head of the pack." He turns to his fatherbrother and says, quite straight faced. "You'll make an excellent Alpha, Dean."
"Uh… thanks," Dean replies, dryly, "I think." and shoots Sam a filthy look when the rest of the camp erupts with laughter.
He nods towards the camera. "Can I continue now?"
Then…
Right! Sire blew out a breath and looked first at me, then at Sam. Well, quite a bit has happened since you left.
He changed and called out to Lucas.
Once all wolves were gathered and in human form, Tobius filled us in.
For a start, Marcus had several members of the Pack Council placed under house arrest until the troubles with Crowley were resolved. Then the trials would begin. This break from protocol hadn't gone down well with the rest of the pack, but that was unavoidable.
The older the wolf, the less accepting they are of change. Just like humans, I guess.
But in this case, it was made worse by Marcus' show of mercy in abolishing capital punishment. Any wolves found guilty of treachery against the Alpha would be given a choice: imprisonment for a set term judged on an individual basis, or secondment 'overseas'.
Tobius made the second option sound like a fate worse than death, and for a former elder and Pack Council member it probably was. It meant serving in another pack for the rest of their lives, with no possibility of climbing the ranks. They'd be treated as ordinary pack members, and work the farmlands, forges, kitchens, whatever services their new pack needed from them.
Any attempt to escape would be met with harsh judgment.
Imprisonment would only be for the duration of fifty years minimum, rather than for life, but it would be in the dank, dark basement dungeons of the Canadian Pack, with only a small exercise yard for changing, and fed with whatever kitchen scraps were thrown to them.
Once their time was served they would be exiled from the Pack until they could prove their worth and earn forgiveness. Or they could go it alone for life.
In some ways, the imprisonment was harsher because of the fifty years in captivity – a wolf's worst nightmare, unable to hunt or run free under the stars - but at least they were eventually given the chance at freedom and atonement. The key was surviving the sentence with their sanity intact.
"As you can imagine, what was left of the council became divided right down the middle, and the whole affair degraded into shouting matches," Tobius sighed and flushed red with embarrassment. "I'm afraid they also started throwing food at each other. It was quite the spectacle."
I'll bet.
No doubt there was some serious debate going on in the Pack Council Chambers, with Marcus caught well and truly in the thick of it. I could just picture the poor guy, barking out orders and making some tough decisions over the raised voices of the elders. He'd probably resorted to scolding them like naughty school kids, or something.
"So," Tobius appeared to wince a little, and I got the impression that whatever he was about to say was probably the most outrageous, off-the-wall declaration Marcus could have ever made in Pack history. "Marcus temporarily dissolved the elder Council, and reformed a War Council with myself, Castiel, Sergeant Fisher, and Captain Byrnes as active advisors."
I blinked. Sam gasped.
"Who the hell is Captain Byrnes?" I asked, a little confused.
"Captain of the guard," Tobius answered, distractedly. "You met him briefly on our way to the Canadian Pack grounds after the fight arena."
Oh yeah. He was the wolf in charge of the clean up squad; it was this guy who first really tipped me off that there was something a little different about my Sire, at least compared to his siblings. Captain Byrnes had showed a silent, yet genuine respect for Tobius, and it was good to know he was on our side.
Lucas leaned forward excitedly.
"So you guessed Crowley was planning an attack, then?" the Home Pack Alpha asked, approvingly. "Excellent move on Marcus' part. Lets the pack know he means business."
"But," Sam began, startled. "That's also a pretty bold move! There could be a mutiny inside the grounds."
"And it could be just what the remaining elders were hoping for," I added, reasonably. "Another chance to take a political shot at Marcus."
Tobius and Lucas grinned.
"Not likely," Tobius explained. "They're all scared of Crowley, and what he might do to them if he wins. They don't like what Marcus has done, because it breaks protocol. But at the end of the day, they can't deny it was the smartest action to take under the circumstances. And, in doing so, Marcus has demonstrated the strength of his authority and leadership over them, which is what most pack members crave, whether they'll admit to it or not."
I thought that through, looked at Lucas with greater understanding, and then echoed his remark from a few days ago.
"Man, I can see why you guys stayed in the trees. This political, diplomacy crap is exhausting the hell out of me."
Sam nodded his agreement with enthusiasm. "Damn straight! It's almost as complicated as human politics."
"So, are all of Sergeant Fisher's men for the Alpha?" I asked, hopefully.
Tobius chuckled. "Pretty much. There were one or two who were loyal to Crowley, but they took off not long after you boys left. The rest are back behind the walls, making preparations."
"What kind of preparations?" Sam asked, curiously.
"Opening up the armoury, weapons check, etc." Tobius looked around our little group. "We have around two hundred fully trained fighters, all expert longbow men and women. Every other post-prime wolf has received some training at some point in their lives, but they may be a little rusty."
I didn't look at Sam, just lowered my head a little but I felt him tense up beside me.
"Post-prime?" the kid sounded a little pissed.
Sire looked at his grandson affectionately. "Yes, only those wolves over the age of twenty five are permitted to fight, by Pack law."
"Yes, but surely those rules can be abandoned with the Canadian Pack in such peril?" Lucas insisted, on Sam's behalf. "If Marcus falls to Crowley, the rest of us will be in trouble!"
Tobius shook his head. "It was Marcus' call to make," he looked from Sam to me. "I'm sorry boys. But that's the way it is."
It was my turn to stiffen up.
"What?" I stared back at him. "You can't be serious! I'm only a few weeks away from twenty five!"
Sire raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid that makes no difference, Dean. You are not old enough to fight. That is Pack law."
"But…" I was almost speechless; almost, but not quite. "But Marcus is not our Alpha. You are! Don't get me wrong, Sire, I respect Marcus and all. Hell! I like the guy, even! But I don't take orders from him!"
Tobius huffed. "Dean, there is no argument. We are here as guests of Marcus, and he won't see underage wolves getting hurt or worse killed! So you and Sam are relegated to inside the walls," he pursed his lips when I made a disgusted noise. "If it's any consolation, I would rather have you two out there watching my back, but we do need some good fighters on the inside to defend the walls in case of a breach."
Sam and I looked at each other in silence, but I read the anger on his face clearly enough, and no doubt he saw the same on mine.
"You'll both be needed to run errands, fetch ammunition, help the wounded, and assist communications. But the walls will be high priority," Tobius went on, ignoring our quiet tantrum. "We have no real idea how this is all going down, but it is absolutely vital that should there be a breach in the walls, you boys will be there to defend it and send a runner to warn the rest of the population."
"Then what?" I snapped, angrily. "If the walls are overthrown, what do you expect us to do?"
"Then," Tobius commanded, in a tone that brooked no quarrel, and his eyes narrowed. "You gather the pups, and get out. That's an order, Dean. You get out, and get to my cabin with the other members of the Home Pack. They will need your protection if this all falls apart and the Type Ones come after you."
Lucas nodded reluctantly. "You make sure the rest of my Pack are safe," he said, sadly. "For if the walls are breached, I doubt many of us will be coming back."
Tobius looked around and nodded. "Right. Let's go. Crowley may know by now that Sam and Dean have met up with friends, so he'll be heading for the walls as we speak. We must get there before him."
"If he's not already there," Sam murmured, worriedly.
"Doubtful, young pup," Tobius' grin was feral. "While you were holidaying in the mountains with this daft old bugger," he nodded to Lucas, who snorted in response. "I managed to inconvenience Crowley's army. Not by much, but enough to piss him off and slow him down."
"Let me guess," I remarked. "False trails?"
Tobius carried on grinning. "And some traps. Took a couple of Type One's out in the process. They'll be down for a while as yet, and no doubt Crowley is busy going apeshit over it."
"Nice one, Toby!" Lucas remarked with a wide grin.
Sam and I nodded with enthusiasm.
"That should buy us a lot of time," Sam mused, happily. "Maybe enough for Bobby and Pastor Jim to catch up…"
"Well, let's not get over confident at this stage," said Lucas, frowning. "We still have to beat Crowley back to the grounds, and he knows these forests better than any of us."
"We're only about a day's run from there," Tobius stood up and stretched. "But you're right. We'd better be on our way."
This time, everything was ditched. Food, blankets, and even water was dumped in a small pit and covered over. The only things the Pack kept were potential weapons, which were carried strapped to their backs.
We set off at a run. There was no time to worry about stealth, so the pace was fast and brutal, but everyone was fit and strong, and managed to keep up, something we might have struggled to do if Arthur had stayed with us. No offence meant to the kid.
As we eventually passed under the weather shield, the air grew a little warmer, and the forest canopy lost its snowy roof.
Our formation was fairly scattered to the untrained eye, but anyone in the know would have figured out that our diffuse pattern made us a harder target for any armies of longbows hidden nearby.
A couple of hours later, one of the others spotted the main road to the pack grounds up ahead and doubled back to tell the two Alphas.
Tobius narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. Can't catch a scent, but that doesn't mean we're in the clear.
He and Lucas began herding our small battalion away from the road and I gave Sire an enquiring look.
We'll run parallel to the road about five miles back from it, in case of ambush, he explained.
That made a lot of sense. There was every chance the road was being watched by Crowley's non-lunars, waiting to attack anyone going in or coming out of pack grounds. We stood a better chance of getting in by sneaking up to the walls from the tree line, and moving round to either the main or rear gates.
But Tobius was about to surprise us all.
After another few miles, he stopped and signalled for everyone to halt. Then he started sniffing frantically at the ground, and nosing among pine needles and rabbit droppings.
Hmm, he whispered to himself. Not here. Perhaps a little further on. Yes, that's right…
Lucas, Sam and I exchanged bewildered glances but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt Sire's musings.
Tobius suddenly looked up and stared all around him, then broke into a run. He didn't stop until he came upon an old oak tree which seemed out of place among all the pines and conifers. He carried on sniffing, and after a while began pawing at the ground, right at the base of the tree.
It's here! Of course it's here!
I blinked. Had Sire finally gone off the deep end?
Dean, look! Sam panted, excitedly, beside me.
The earth beneath Sire's powerful paws was crumbling a little, giving way and revealing old tree roots that twisted around each other in a web-like pattern. But the big reveal was the large, man/wolf-sized hole guarded by a wrought iron door that looked as if it hadn't been opened in centuries.
Are we talking about a secret entrance here? I asked, dryly. 'Cos, dude. That's just lame. Sounds like something out of a kid's story.
Tobius levelled a glare at me. It may be lame dude, but it's also useful. Crowley doesn't know about this.
Sam snuffled around the tree, checking it out for himself. How can you be so sure? Someone might have told him.
And at that, Sire looked mildly uncomfortable. Not even Marcus knows.
Sam and I looked at each other, while Lucas let loose a short guffaw. Clearly, the older Alpha wasn't at all surprised by this. Probably nothing surprised him when it came to Tobius Le Salle.
And why would that be? I drawled.
I'm the only one who knows this back way into the grounds even exists, Sire replied, a little bit smug now that the grand secret was out. Because I built it.
Sam and I stared at him in disbelief.
Don't you think the Pack Alpha has the right to know that there's a potentially serious breach in the walls? Sam demanded, obviously a little shocked that Tobius would keep a secret like that from his brother.
Tobius sighed heavily. And that's why I'm the only one who knows.
But… Why? I asked, still bewildered and staring at the underground door, noting various symbols forged into the ironwork. I'd never seen the like of them before, but something about them just screamed 'protection'.
Because, Tobius said, slowly, as though addressing a child, a clear sign of his waning patience. I suspected that, one day, someone among the elders might try to start a mutiny within the pack, and attempt to overthrow the Alpha. The entrance is there for outside reinforcements to come to the Alpha's aid.
In other words, Sam murmured. You.
Quite, Sire responded. Now, if there are no more questions… he held out a paw, indicating the tunnel entrance. Shall we?
Wait a minute! Lucas spoke up and looked at the tunnel. You'll need someone to stay behind and cover this up in case Crowley and his scum bags come looking.
Tobius immediately protested. And what if he does? If you stay behind, you'll be Type One fodder. We need you on the front lines, Lucas.
Yes, but at least we can guard the tunnel and keep him from finding it, said Lucas, firmly. Worse comes to worse, strategically speaking, we can defend the entrance from within. And besides, if I know Vicky, she'll be heading our way soon enough with Singer, Murphy and the werebears, so I might need to go out there and bring her in safely. Not to mention Cornelius. They'll all need a safe way in once the battle begins.
Tobius just gazed at his old friend in despair, knowing he was right.
We parted ways reluctantly, keeping our goodbyes short and to the point. The Home Pack Alpha stood tall, proud and fierce, then winked at us.
We'll be fine, ya ken? That bastard Crowley won't know what's hit him if he comes our way!
The other wolves growled their agreement and surrounded the tunnel entrance, crouched down on their haunches, eyes sharp, and ready for trouble.
As soon as we were underground, they would cover up the entrance and hide nearby. Scent wouldn't be a problem; being so close to pack ground, the air was saturated with thousands of combinations of werewolf pheromones.
But I stared a little fearfully at the underground tunnel. Never liked small, tight spaces. I was once buried alive under a pile of heavy rocks and nearly freaked the hell out from claustrophobia.
The door was around three feet of solid, consecrated iron, and in spite of the years, it would still have been a tough bastard to crack, even with my extensive lock-picking skills.
The tunnel was dark and dank, and smelled of rotten vegetation and long dead animals. Probably rodents.
I think I've seen more cheerful plague pits.
Seriously, anyone with Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder would have been ill advised to come down here.
Rats, perhaps disturbed by the noise of the rusted, creaking old combination lock being forced open, were skittering along the tunnel floor, making little splashes in the wet mud as they went.
Yeah, I was in hell.
Sire pushed the door open wider with his snout, and sniffed.
Hmm. Just as I remembered. Last time I came down here was to oil the locks and hinges.
I just glared at him. And when was that exactly? The American Civil War?
Tobius shook his head and stepped inside.
Not quite that long ago, but certainly the century before last if I recall accurately, he responded, either completely oblivious to my sarcasm or choosing to ignore it. Knowing him, it was both.
Actually, it wasn't as closed in as I had been dreading. The ceilings were high, and the tunnel itself was fairly wide.
I guess you needed it like this to transport weapons and ammo, right? I asked, curiously.
Sire gently bumped my shoulder, eyes glowing with approval. Quite right.
Sam was staring around with a look of happy fascination on his furry face.
You built this all by yourself? he said, completely awestruck, and looked up at the ceiling. Really?
Tobius nodded. Wasn't easy, trying to construct it in secret, let me tell you.
No kidding!
I followed Sam's gaze.
The tunnel walls and ceiling were made of large blocks of stone, probably the same stuff the pack grounds were surrounded with. Each one was perfectly shaped into a rectangle and tightly set in. It was all very neat and professional looking, and honestly, I was impressed. It would probably outlast most buildings constructed today using modern techniques.
Today's newly built houses will all crumble to dust in a few decades, but this tunnel will likely still be here.
I guess Sire picked up a lot of skills over the course of eight hundred years.
But other than that? It was fairly boring down there, especially after the first mile or two.
C'mon, let's move, I bumped against Sam, snarled at a few rats that dared to creep closer for a good look at us, and grinned smugly when the little bastards scurried off again.
Sire led the way, followed by Sam and then me, and we trekked along the tunnel, mostly in silence.
There really isn't much else to say about our underground journey. The tunnel ran for five miles in a straight line with a steady decline, then suddenly dipped down steeply, and ended at the pack wall foundations.
And boy did those foundations run deep!
How long did this take you? I asked Sire, who tilted his head in thought.
About a year, maybe two, he pressed a large paw against the foundations and waited.
A muffled, clanking noise reached us through the stone wall and we all stood well back.
Dust rained down from a section of the wall, followed by more clanking. Then a large, grey stone, set at around average human head height, made a loud grating noise, slid all the way back, and then disappeared downwards, presumably behind the wall itself.
Open Sesame! Tobius declared excitedly, proving that even eight hundred year old werewolves can be reduced to the mentality of a six year old when under the influence of gadgets.
I rolled my eyes while Sam just looked fondly amused.
Tobius ignored us and leapt up into the gap, snorted at us and disappeared into the darkness on the other side, calling out Come along, chop, chop! No time for dilly-dallying!
There came a faint thump on the other side of the wall, and Sire called out to reassure us that he was fine.
After you, I grinned at Sam.
He didn't hesitate; obviously keen to find out where we would end up. Sam followed his grandfather up the wall and through the gap, eyes bright, tongue hanging out, and panting excitedly like the big, overgrown puppy he really is.
I heard his paws scrabbling on the stone surface, and then a happily exclaimed Oh! I see now!
More scrabbling came from the gap, and Sam's black nose appeared, eyes twinkling green and blue with excitement.
You'll never guess where this comes out, Dean!
Cess pit?
Sam snorted indignantly. Try again.
Bottom of a wine cellar by any chance? I asked, hopefully.
Come see for yourself, he backed away and disappeared. There was another soft thump on the other side where he'd presumably jumped down to join Tobius.
It was a cellar of sorts, but definitely not for wine. The tunnel ended at an underground archive facility for ancient scrolls and tomes, the kind that would have Bobby Singer chewing an arm off just to get at.
According to Sire, the original Dead Sea scrolls reside here. The true ones. Apparently, the ones we all know about are faked.
It was also rumoured that the last surviving scrolls of the ancient library of Alexandria had been brought here for safety and protection. A little charred, I'd imagine, given the damn huge fire that burnt the original library to a crisp.
This place was huge. Like, St Paul's Cathedral huge, with rows and rows of bookshelves stretching away into the distance and lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It made Hogwart's library look like a tiny garden shed.
Won't it be obvious someone's been here? Sam asked while staring down at the paw prints he was leaving on the thick, dusty stone floor.
No one ever comes down here, Sire whispered, even though there was no need, especially in our heads. But the place had that kind of effect; it commanded instant respect, as though any unnecessary noise was a slight to all the ancient works that rested here.
Let me guess, I muttered sarcastically. Because you're the only who knows about it?
No, Sire padded onwards, aiming for a large, wooden and iron door set in the corner of the scroll room. But I am the only one with the knowledge to get in. Marcus felt it would serve to keep the archive safe if no one on the grounds knew the combination code. We couldn't have every man and his wolf traipsing in and out of here at will, disturbing the scrolls and ruining the texts with their oily fingers. So he entrusted that sacred code to me. And one day, he turned his head briefly towards Sammy and me, I will pass it on to the both of you.
Wow! Sam breathed, appreciatively.
That is pretty cool, huh? I started to feel a little more excited about it, I'll admit. So you're, like, The Librarian, or something?
Tobius stopped and just looked at me, the expression on his face hinting that he might be inclined to change his mind about passing on important, top secret information after all.
Hardly, he answered dryly. Do I look like Noah Wyle?
I sat back on my haunches to lend his question some serious consideration.
No, I said finally. You're a lot hairier.
Thank you, pup. So glad for the observation. Can we move on, please?
As it turned out, the archives were right next to Sire's sleeping quarters, and came up just under a small laundry room through a hatch in the floor.
This is for my own private use whenever I pay the pack a visit. No one else is allowed to come in here, by order of the Alpha. That's why this entire building remains reserved for me at all times.
So as soon as he relocked the entrance behind us, we headed straight inside his quarters to change and dress in fresh robes. There weren't many people about, and those who were, hurried about their duties, some carrying unstrung long bows, others quivers of arrows, or food, and muttering among themselves. No one noticed us; they were so intent on their own jobs.
When we got to Sire's quarters, we found our duffle bags all neatly lined up by the computer desk.
"That must mean…" I bounded over to the window and broke out into a broad grin. "There's my Baby!"
And she was. Just outside, under the window, sat a wonderful sight. Not a Buick, but the Impala, gleaming brightly as though freshly waxed.
"Told you they'd bring her in for you," said Tobius, pulling a pair of clean jeans from his duffle. "Looks like she's been spruced up a bit, too."
Sam grinned, and threw a tee-shirt my way. "And not a scratch on her," he paused to grab his worn hoodie and stared at it fondly for a few seconds before shrugging it on. "My old friend. How I've missed you!"
"It's great to be back in real clothes, ain't it?" I agreed.
"Hmm. It seems I have an email from Castiel," Tobius had sauntered over to the desk and parked himself in the swivel seat, and was now tapping away at the computer. "Sam? Would you mind taking a look at this for me? Looks like another encrypted message. Not sure why he would bother, given that Crowley's no longer on site."
But just as Sam took his place, there came a loud knocking at the door.
Without waiting for anyone to answer, Marcus barged in, a strained but happy smile on his face.
No mentioning the whole 'underage' thing, boys, Sire warned, silently, presumably having tuned his brother out of his thoughts very briefly. Marcus has enough to deal with as it is, without a couple of young pups arguing against Pack law.
I huffed but nodded discreetly, while Sam's jaw clenched. Kid didn't look up, however, just carried on examining the email. No doubt he was still feeling guilty about attacking Marcus, never mind he was drugged up to the eyeballs on Sleepworm at the time.
"Good to have you all back, safely," Marcus was saying and looking each of us up and down, examining for injury. His sharp gaze soon landed on the mostly healed scar on the side of Sam's head.
"Did Crowley do that?" he barked out, sharply, but gently ran a hand along Sam's hairline, as if his touch could sooth what had already faded.
"Nah, it was a waterfall," Sam finally looked up and answered with a wry grin. "When we both took a swan dive off the top."
"Ah," the Alpha grinned back. "Yes, I know of that particular waterfall. I've come a cropper there myself a few times."
Cropper? I raised an eyebrow.
Means he's also had a few accidents over the years at that waterfall, Tobius supplied, helpfully.
Sam blinked up at Marcus, eyes suddenly filled with sorrow. "Marcus, I…"
"I'll not be hearing any apologies from you of all people, young pup," said Marcus quietly, voice stern but expression fond. He gently cupped my brotherson's chin and stared him straight in the eye. "Morally speaking, you weren't even there. Crowley alone is responsible." He added, in a tone that brooked no argument, "Now let's hear no more of this."
Sam seemed a little overwhelmed, but Marcus just playfully ruffled his hair.
I think my feelings of admiration went through the roof for Uncle Marcus just then.
Sire cleared his throat, respectfully.
"We were just coming to find you. My boys have news of Crowley, in fact. Lucas and Cornelius of the Home Pack are outside the grounds, getting ready to defend. I should warn you, Crowley has already killed a few of Lucas' Pack in cold blood…"
Sam and I explained about Crowley's use of Sleepworm, how he could block Sam's skills, and control thought projection, of his Type One army and how we were ambushed in the forest.
Marcus nodded and breathed out a slow, calm breath, but his eyes told a different story. The Alpha was anything but calm. He was furious.
"Right, we must attend the War Council, fill them in, then continue with arrangements," Marcus said, brusquely. "Many of the families outside the walls are seeking shelter with us. They can all handle a longbow with quite some accomplished skill."
But we didn't even make it out of Sire's quarters before trouble broke out.
Castiel, with Sergeant Fisher and Captain Byrnes in tow, didn't bother knocking. They just strode in and reported straight to Marcus and Tobius.
"My apologies for the intrusion, brothers," said Castiel, abruptly. "But I'm afraid there has been an attack outside the front doors."
"What sort of attack?" Marcus demanded to know.
"My Lord, several families coming in from the outside were caught like sitting ducks on their way in," the Captain bowed his head slightly, his voice strong, though his English accent was slightly softer than Marcus. "They were fired upon by silver tipped arrows…" he hesitated, and we all saw the brief flash of sadness in his grey-green eyes.
It was only the second time I had met him, and the first time I had seen him in human form. He was a plain looking guy with ash blond hair, and looked barely out of his twenties. His tall, bulky figure was straight backed with the full pride of duty and rank, but all of us could see the burden of anger and sorrow weighing heavily on his shoulders.
"How many dead?" asked Marcus. His voice was deep, face stern, and upper lip curled in fury, as though he already knew the answer.
The Captain and Sergeant exchanged a pained look, before Byrnes dutifully answered his Alpha.
"All of them, my Lord," he murmured, swallowing hard, and his eyes filled with reluctant tears. "Men, women, pups… it was a massacre; over so fast, the poor bastards didn't stand a chance."
TBC...
Things are about to heat up as the battle commences, but are the packs properly prepared for what they are about to face?
You want to know what happens next? Then hit that review button for me...
Love ST xxx