《Mind the Line》


 Prologue

    Eleven years ago


    Whispers of a new wolf  king spread like wildfire through the halls of Princess Lilith¡¯s palace. She couldn¡¯t walk anywhere without hearing something about him. Sometimes the faerie princess wished she could forget her betrothed. Her first meeting with him was unpleasant enough. He was barbaric, but what can you expect from such a creature, really?


    She strolled past a huddle of maids with more news of him on their lips. In the battles for who would take the empty throne, John had defeated all his rivals, killing most of them and successfully became king. How unfortunate. She had hoped that when his father died, he would become a commoner and cling so desperately to her that he wouldn¡¯t know what to do with himself.


    Although the news upset her, she was more bothered by his new power. Men and power weren¡¯t a great mix. She needed to find a leverage she can use against him, preferably before they became newlyweds. That would be horrific. But where would she find this information?


    In her bedroom chambers, she rung for her lady¡¯s maid, Erin.


    ¡°Can you tell Isaac I wish to see him?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Highness, right away.¡± Erin curtsied, quickly exiting.


    A while later, Isaac entered with a cheery smile. ¡°Your Highness asked to see me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I want you to report to me everything that happens in the wolf kingdom. Pay close attention to word of their new king. Anything harming would do.¡±


    In the coming weeks, Lilith learned more about the things that happened under her future betrothed¡¯s rule and she felt sick to her stomach. Corruption wasn¡¯t enough to express the horrors she was heard of. If Isaac was to be believed and she was positive he was, then that meant these wolves sold orphaned pups. Some would even slaughter the family and take the pups to be auctioned off immediately. The women were now the rape victims, bound up with clipped ears and they weren¡¯t allowed a moment¡¯s rest without the threat of their pup¡¯s safety and life on the line. The men weren¡¯t much safe either.


    ¡°Princess, I was informed that those targeted are from a different class as the perpetrators. Your¡ª¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Their king has passed laws to ensure this type of behavior is excused.¡±


    King John wrote an edict, sanctifying his lineage to the title, King of Alphas, forever. It was the beginning of a reign of terror. The mistreatment of Betas began sporadically at first and increased over time. John, who she imagined was a man filled with arrogance and just as much greed as his past opponents, abandoned his fellow wolves to this cruel fate that he and his pompous ¡®Alphas¡¯ orchestrated and trapped them in.


    The following year, Isaac reported John went as far as making laws to hinder Betas from becoming Alphas or rising among the ranks of his soldiers or the men of his court. He therefore issued another edict sentencing anyone to death who tried. He had a deep hatred for Betas; he believed them to be weaker by blood and a burden he had to put up with. John enjoyed being surrounded by Alphas. He liked the way they groveled at his feet. He enjoyed the power he had over the powerful. Lilith had heard enough of her kinsmen telling her how much they wanted to get rid of her and how quickly.


    ¡°Oh, princess, your marriage is in a month¡¯s time. Aren¡¯t you so excited?¡±


    To which she frequently replied, ¡°No. How could one be happy about marrying a mutt?¡±


    These people were so happy to see her gone and made such a fuss about it that her father told her the king requested a week-long celebration before the wedding.


    This was the best way or so her parents kept repeating. And once again, no one is here to stand in her defense. She favored words like fight, resist but none came from anyone of import. There were no commands for her to stay. No reversal to the marriage agreement. Even after all that she had found, she didn''t think she could use any of it against him. If anything, it made him stronger. More difficult to challenge. Instead, she was to be married off to that abrasive king to abandon the place she belonged. Earlier her mother felt the need to assure her that she would feel like she belonged once she was married. Did belonging suddenly enable her to breathe fire? Perhaps she might spew fire, to and fro, destroying kingdoms like the wolves and widow herself? What just to fit in? To be accepted?


    Having been born with the gift of divination, she regretted not shuffling her cards on the day of her kidnapping. Not that it would reveal anything yet, but it brought her solace in thinking she had some control over where her life went. She resented her naivety at believing security was anything but an illusion. She saw all the atrocities of the Alphas and the king.


    Most of her days spent in captivity were filled with her reading tarot for a way out of the trap or even divining the king''s weakness would have helped her, but one day she drew the Fool and the World¡ªcards that represented a new birth. She was overwhelmed, thinking her gods were offering her a chance at freedom. She thought she would be freed except she was pregnant.


    In the years following, she planned and bided her time, raising her son to be a compassionate and just ruler, the complete contrast to his father''s disgusting and oftentimes willful ignorance.


    What she read in her cards encouraged her and fueled her with determination to build a better life for the wolves, particularly, the Betas. The Betas were a way for her to weaken her captor, steal them from under his oppression and create a new future with freedom for them and her. This reality never came to fruition, and nothing in her fate anticipated a revolution so Lilith did what she¡¯d never done before. She took her fate into  her own hands, granting herself the freedom she¡¯d starved for.


    ***


    Present


    Her dad turned around from the driver¡¯s seat and asked, ¡°Are you excited to see your uncle, Jackie?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    She nodded with a small giggle, the five-year-old excited for the trip.


    Lazarus, her brother bumped her shoulder with his. ¡°You don¡¯t even know him. What makes you so happy, huh?¡±


    ¡°Sooo? Least I know what an uncle are.¡±


    ¡°You mean, what an uncle is. You¡¯re still a baby. What do babies know?¡±


    ¡°Babies know lots like what uncles is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s are this time. Of course, you wouldn¡¯t know that because you¡¯re a baby and I¡¯m not.¡±


    Pouting over being a baby and not being able to change it, Jackie drew up her fists. Just as she was about to sock him in his shoulder, their mom¡¯s stern look caught her eye in the rear-view mirror.


    ¡°Jackie,¡± her mom said in a chiding voice, giving her the coldest stare she¡¯d seen her make. ¡°What did you tell Mommy before we left?¡±


    ¡°I said I was going to behave. Be a good girl.¡±


    ¡°And what else?¡±


    ¡°I said I wouldn¡¯t hit Laz,¡± she said in a tiny voice. ¡°But he be starting it with me. He called me a baby, Mommy. And Mommy said I¡¯m a big girl.¡±


    ¡°Right and do big girls hit their brothers?¡±


    A pout returning to her lips, she answered, ¡°...no. They listen to their mommies and don¡¯t get in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Leave her alone,¡± her father murmured, his ebony hand patting her mom¡¯s gray jean-covered thigh.


    Her mom folded her lips inward.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there, Jacks.¡±


    Jackie started to bounce in her seat. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get a uncle,¡± she sang on repeat, kicking the back of her dad¡¯s seat.


    ¡°You like him that much?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm.¡±


    ¡°What do you like about him?¡±


    ¡°Daddy said he fought beside him in the dragon war. Bad dragons.¡± Jackie deepened her high-pitched intonations in an attempt to mimic her father¡¯s storytelling baritone. ¡°The legenddiary Emieson Lyman, feesome warrior, draws his sword to take down the bad dragon army set on removing our existing from the world.¡± She balled her fists again and thrust it in the air. ¡°He made it so Mommy and Daddy can have Jackie. So let¡¯s hurry, hurry, hurry. We gotta get there and meet him.¡±


    The drive lasted a moment longer, her father pulled off to the side of the asphalt pavement, helping his little girl unbuckle her seatbelt.


    She threw her arms up for him to reach down and cuddle her into his arms, her face snug under his chin.


    Her mother and Laz came around the car to them. She shook her head, muttering about her father still treating her like a baby.


    Laz grinned at her whispered comments.


    Hearing this, Jackie lifted her head from her father¡¯s chest and asked to get down. When her feet met the asphalt, she ran toward her brother and pushed him.


    Caught off guard, he stumbled back until he tripped over a pebble and onto his butt.


    Jackie pointed and laughed at him.


    ¡°What you gonna do, cry about it?¡± she asked.


    With a triumphant huff, she thrust her chin up and made a sharp turn, skipping into the woods. She didn''t register her mom¡¯s shocked gasp and yelling remarks on her misbehavior. The child was in her own world and loving it.


    She tracked the silent seemingly hidden predators in the woods. A rufous fox slowed its prowling, watching her. She tested her growl on it. Giving a high-pitched giggle when it turned on its tail and ran.


    Her next victim was a bobcat with a squirming yellow-spotted salamander hanging from its jaws. Its sharp feline gaze scanned behind her, dropped its captured prey and fled with a sonorous whine on its lips.


    Her mother pulled her up by the scruff of her neck, cutting her giggling short.


    ¡°Jacqueline, that is enough. Your uncle is this way.¡±


    She dropped her. When she did, she spread the child¡¯s fingers and lined them up with hers before closing them in her grip.


    The awkward, rapid, and jerky movements kept Jackie¡¯s lips sealed for a while. Her focus returned to her new uncle¡ªthe brave warrior who had saved her family.


    After a short trek into the woods, a simple wooden boat appeared floating on the edge of the river. The crickets chirring grew louder as she raised her hand to cover her eyes from the beaming sun, a small grin on her lips.


    Her gaze locked onto Laz¡¯s face and saw his cypress cheeks shining. The white sun rays landed on the verdant bushes, falling over the monster-sized tree trunks beside her when she walked. Rustling sounds darted in and out of the flora. The thick shrubbery shaken by each passing animal. There were strangely so many: white-tailed deer, wood hares, groundhogs, and moose¡ªall prey, fleeing.


    Her father sailed them across the stream deeper into the forest. Its winding watery path seemed endless. Whenever they came to a bend, the towering trees on the banks appeared to be closing in on them. She feared they might tumble down and collapse, but away they sailed on and on, over more bends and past more trees.


    The mist over the water, thickening into fog as her father bowed the oars less and less.


    Soon enough, they each stepped from the boat and walked a few miles until they reached a place where she caught sight of her reflection staring back at her. Curious, she drew near.


    Suddenly, she stood before a massive mirror and as she crept toward its reflective surface, there was such a strong pull she wasn''t sure if it came from within her or from the mirror, every fiber of her being beckoned her further.


    She watched her smile widen, her insides jump as she ambled forward, thrusting her chest out¡ªan offering to be absorbed into its shimmering depths. Her thoughts strayed from the reason they had come and onto what lay beyond the mirror.


    ¡°Oh no, you don''t,¡± her mother said, snatching the little pup into her arms, stealing the air from her tiny lungs. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever go near this place again, do you hear me?¡±


    Her tone was sharp and final.


    She nodded, some semblance of wakefulness returning to her. Why were they there again?


    ¡°Emerson, my brother, my friend, how have you been¡­¡± Her father¡¯s voice tampered off, answering her internal question. Oh, uncle. Right. She peeked out from behind her mother¡¯s legs to see the legenddiary, Emieson. The hero from her bedtime stories. The dragon slayer.


    She frowned at his appearance.


    The scrawny man loomed with hunched shoulders, everywhere her eyes roamed, there were bruises. Blood leaked from his bruised cheek as he gave her father a vacant stare. His long arms dangled, one was bent in an odd angle like it hung from a loosening string.


    Her mother rushed to her brother¡¯s side and embraced him, a sob coming from her throat.


    The intense metallic aroma wafting off him called to Jackie¡¯s inner beast. Her mind drifted toward rampage and chaos. Laz¡¯s hand went up and blocked her view of them, he pulled her away from their crying voices.


    When they moved farther away, her ears picked up an indiscernible murmur. The sound called out from the mirror, she turned her head around to see if anyone noticed.


    Laz¡¯s attention was locked on the talking adults. She slipped back toward it in small steps so her brother wouldn''t notice, until the voice became clear and she could hear what it was saying.


    Come to the barrier. Meet my champion. Meet my warrior. She will save me.


    The words repeated again.


    By then, her mother waved her hand behind her, reaching for the miscreant she had lost track of.


    Jackie walked within her mother¡¯s reach and placed her hands back into her grip.

 Chapter 1: Project Funding Needed

    Checking the time on her phone, Jackie cursed under her breath and picked up her pace. She was late. Shit, shit, shit.


    Not wanting to endure that atmosphere of hopelessness again, she considered missing the meeting, but some inner stubbornness wouldn''t let her. She decided to give herself one last chance to speak her mind about what she thought they needed. So they wouldn¡¯t have to circle around the same topic over and over again.


    She sighed in relief as she rounded the corner of the Econ building. The University of New Hampshire library two blocks ahead of her.


    Her sigh quickly turned into one of dwindling patience as another person bumped her shoulder. This hustle and bustle grew with the crowd dragging her toward the stairs that led to the library. It had to be the first moment in her life where she was glad to be tossed around in a swarm of moving bodies heading in the same place as her. This was faster transportation than her feet could manage.


    The complaints were skirting past her, snags of conversations drifted past; a teacher giving out B''s for students turning their assignment in without dating it. Some other tragic guy grumbled about missing last night¡¯s party, his shouts of apologies hurting her ears.


    Living in the city had its perks, she was a wolf hidden in plain sight. Not like she could tell anyone that, but she still felt misplaced. Her home world had always called to her. It felt more comforting than her apartment, or even working in her dad''s lab. When she was younger, she used to tell her parents that "the Alphas" were watching her.


    That had freaked the whole household for a week straight and got her grounded. Such an extreme punishment for a light offense. She wasn¡¯t allowed to bring up anything relating to werewolves at home again. No one in the house did either. They¡¯d rarely even spoken about it, just kept up their human fa?ade.


    Her mom never let her forget her creepy childhood. From the way she tells it, her five-year old would just be playing in the backyard one day and when she went to the window to check, her little pumpkin was gone like she¡¯d disappeared into thin air. It took a while for her mom to recover from it. She wasn¡¯t sure she ever really did.


    The memory was fuzzy for her so she didn¡¯t know where she went or how she got there or even who took her.


    Her dad took a different approach on how to cope. He dove into research, wanting to find a connection between the world he¡¯d left and Earth. She was the motivation that her father built his career on.


    She¡¯d spent the rest of her teenage years with her dad, helping to further his research. Something about it was addictive. Addicting enough for her to follow in his footsteps. Her father was open to giving her curiosity an outlet.


    Wrapping her trench coat tighter, closer to her chest, the winter breeze brushed her already freezing cheeks.


    The crowd had abandoned her while she was stuck reminiscing.


    Her stiffened body slammed through the library doors in a rush. She just wanted to make it to this meeting.


    The wafting scent of freshly brewed coffee. Its promise of warmth dragged her toward the indoor cafe section. She joined the queue gathered by the entrance.


    Her thoughts returned towards the dreaded meeting she was minutes away from joining.


    The topic was always the same. Funding, funding, funding. They didn¡¯t have money for their aspirational adventures across the boundary. All signs pointed to them being stuck on this side of the boundary for good.


    Without revealing her sources, she wanted so badly to just tell them where she thought an entry point was. But she wasn¡¯t the best at communicating. Her words came across rude or weird without her even meaning it that way and no amount of explaining would help either. If worse came to worse, saying nothing was better than having said anything at all.


    Arriving at the front, her order exploded out of her mouth with no breaths taken in between. ¡°French vanilla latte. Do you have any more cream bagels?¡±


    Criticism written in her expression, the ginger-haired barista squinted her eyes and leaned her head back to eye her and her strange behavior.


    ¡°Um, yeah?¡±


    She cleared her throat, with a lower and calmer tone, said, ¡°Can I get one please?¡±


    A normal expression being hard to fake, she did her best in the time it took for her order to be finished and called on for pickup.


    ¡°Yes, french vanilla is me. Thanks.¡±


    Drink and bagel in hand, Jackie turned, eyes scanning for her group. The heat from the paper cup helped defrost her hands.


    ¡°Jackie, over here!¡± Robin waved her over, wildly, her blonde pigtails swishing back and forth with her movements.


    Jackie raised her cup toward her and the rest of her group before walking toward them.


    It took some time for her to notice Kenny frowning at her. His green eyes skittering away when she settled her gaze on him.


    What sounded like the beginning of a complaint coming from Kenny was cut short by Ben who held his hand up, fixing her with a disapproving glare from his place at the head of the table.


    Rising from his chair, Ben asked, ¡°Took your sweet time, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    His taller, bulkier physique was probably meant to intimidate her, but she was used to dealing with him. So she pulled out the most efficient technique she used to get him to back down.


    She gave him a helpless shrug, not giving him the fight he wanted.


    ¡°I lost track¡­?¡±


    ¡°Jackie, you? Losing track of time? No way.¡± Kenny asked. Not waiting for her reply, he added,¡° Now that I think about it, you barely participate in meetings anymore. Is something going on?¡±


    Whistling in an attempt to avoid the question, her eyes scanned the bookshelves behind him.


    ¡°She must have been busy with other projects and hasn''t had the time to join us. Things like this happen. Right, Ben?¡± Robin asked, beseeching Ben with her doe-like eyes.


    Jackie snorted, almost choking and dropping everything in her hands. She quickly rescued the falling items with her overly reliable reflexes. Robin¡¯s attempt at convincing wasn¡¯t enough, going by the seriousness on Ben¡¯s face.


    Nothing was more important than getting approval to cross the boundary. This could put their names in the history books forever. But in the meantime, while they were on their way to stardom, it might be best to take a seat before someone said something ridiculous, and she succeeded spilling her breakfast onto the floor.


    She slipped into her seat with haste, careful with placing down her meal.


    Ben cleared his throat, announcing, ¡°As I was saying, the department heads think we¡¯re fools chasing after myths. At least that¡¯s how they treat us.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ve been asking to cross the boundary for weeks now. If we cross, we can just find out for ourselves. It¡¯ll all be in our reports,¡± Jackie retorted.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s behind the boundary anyway,¡± Ben commented, his voice snapping her back into the present.


    There he goes again with his fear strategy.


    ¡°Besides werewolves,¡± Kenny whispered behind the cover of the book he held, titled: The Werewolves Who Walked Among Us.


    ¡°What matters most is our safety,¡± Robin said.


    Jackie¡¯s eyes drifted from face-to-face, noticing the unsettled looks they exchanged. The way their lips twisted with disgust each time someone said something they disagreed with.


    Just as quickly as their glares appeared, they began arguing.


    That was her cue to sit quiet and enjoy her latte. She really hadn¡¯t missed this.


    The librarian was lingering close by, her eyebrows raised with a warning every time their volume elevated slightly.


    ¡°Imagine if there are vampires¡ª" Kenny began.


    "Think about it, buddy. They feast on our blood¡ª¡± Robin said.


    "If there are dragons, do you think they live in caves? Hoarding gold? We could be rich if we found their caves.¡± Kenny suggested.


    ¡°Or we''d be burned alive¡ª¡±


    ¡°What about angels?¡±


    ¡°Let''s hope their gods aren¡¯t wrathful towards humans and sics their holy soldiers on us.¡± Robin replied, feeding the fear Ben bled into the conversation.


    Again, she felt herself falling back into hopelessness. The one thing she had come here to get rid of. She had to say something, and fast.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just submit a letter to the dean?¡± Jackie asked, blowing over her paper cup before taking a sip of coffee.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Her question brought silence to the table, cutting off their bickering.


    Robin folded her glossy lips inward and rubbed her arm.


    Awkwardness settled around all sides of the table.


    Kenny buried his nose deeper in his book, his floppy curls fell over his eyes, the only thing poking out from above the edge of the cover, his stare fixed on Ben.


    Robin¡¯s concerned gaze wandered between Jackie and Ben, they always held opposing opinions on just about everything¡ªit had been that way since high school.


    Let the rivalry continue.


    ¡°Even if we do that, Jacqueline, he won¡¯t even acknowledge it. We are his charity cases. There¡¯s no other college in the state that has majors for the supernatural except ours. That¡¯s how uninterested the world is in the research we¡¯ve been working on. He wouldn¡¯t even open our emails. Do we even have anything? We have nothing!¡±


    The librarian made a sharp and long shushing noise, they all turned to look at her. They were wearing on her patience by now.


    Their guilty gazes were met with a nasty glare.


    ¡°What do you expect us to do?¡±¡ªin a harsh, exasperated whisper¡ª¡°Produce projects we don¡¯t have? We need this approval. A decision you openly despise.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I despise it. Why can¡¯t we do it ourselves? How many months do we have to wait until we can get the proper funding for a trip like this? They won¡¯t even let us step foot in the door. You keep talking about our failures and I¡¯m starting to think you¡¯re using it as an excuse to hide your fear.¡±


    His mouth tightened, his expression sour. He looked toward the others.


    When no one spoke up in his defense, he took a seat.


    No one knew where the barrier came from; its mystical magnetic field was still a cosmic mystery¡ªthe physics majors were urged by the government to leave it alone. The small group that made up the supernatural magicks majors at her school were following right behind them and neither conflicting field made any important discoveries. One did so intentionally while the other didn¡¯t have enough resources or backing¡ªlike they currently were.


    So you can imagine how impactful it was when Ben pushed for more definitive data samples and studies. He¡¯d even managed to persuade their professor to join the ¡®revolution of humanity¡¯. This kind of rhetoric invigorated the students and professors of their department.


    Groups were formed and given separate tasks that pushed and intimidated the researching committee¡¯s president to approve their future adventures.


    Two weeks in, and reports came of students who passed the boundary going missing.


    It was around that time, Ben¡¯s demeanor changed. He started to bring up the committee¡¯s disapproval of their research more often.


    There was a new shine of fear in his eyes. His bravado was shaken, in need of repair.


    ¡°I know we''re all scared. Yeah, it''s pretty scary stuff. We could die. I want us to swallow that fear and act on our curiosity. We can''t keep allowing these measly papers and money to keep us from a world we know is worth exploring. I doubt we need money, but we can raise funding for ourselves just in case. We can ask for donations online and here on campus. Then when we have enough, we can cross the boundary.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a solid plan.¡± Robin said, nodding encouragingly toward Ben. Her fist bumped his arm. ¡°Right, Pres?¡±


    He grumbled his agreement.


    Robin and Kenny cheered.


    A heartbeat later, their eyes locked on the librarian. They flinched, shushing each other with an index finger to their lips, and opted for punching the air in celebratory silence.


    The scowling librarian nodded her approval, crossing her arms loosely.


    The meeting was over and they finally had a plan to work with, Jackie smiled. This could actually work.


    She gave her goodbye and walked out the entrance, and down the stairs with a pep in her step.


    She sprinted across the brownish yellow lawn toward her car, accidentally hitting her knee on its bumper as she climbed into the driver¡¯s seat.


    She drove home while humming the tunes of her favorite jazz singer. Her shoulders swayed back and forth to the rhythm in her head. It was time to take their research into their own hands.


    Werewolves didn¡¯t normally survive after they were revealed to the public. They disappeared as soon as they surfaced. In her ethics class, she read a case study file on two wolves that were captured. The dissection and mutilation of their dead bodies were horrifying to see. The file detailed how the early scientists in this field began their experiments with a female werewolf, referred to as Subject 034 remained in her wolf form and, upon death; she became human while Subject 035 stayed human and died that way. There was no mention of whether anesthesia was used.


    They starved them before eviscerating these poor wolves. Still, they found no leads on why they transformed or even the rate of healing for werewolves. Everything documented were failed hypotheses aside from the controversial evidence that supported the claim of how werewolves communicated with each other while they were in the form of a wolf. The tortures they detailed and disguised as necessary experiment processes were enough for me to know just how corrupt the research department truly was.


    With that thought in her mind, she shot a text to her friend, Riley.


    Meet me at my place in an hour.


    When she turned into her apartment¡¯s garage, she walked out with the same sashay to her hips and bounce in her walk.


    Twirling after locking her car then tossed her keys into the air from one hand to the other, picking up her humming habit again.


    Should I check my mailbox? The thought was washed away by her best saxophone impersonations.


    Looking up, a smile tugged at her face as she skipped up the stairs. Her door, 204 a few steps away.


    Jackie slapped her hands to her mouth, muffling a surprised yelp as the door was flung open, nearly colliding with her.


    Peering at the cause, Riley stood in the hallways¡ªhand raised to her mouth, her eyes widened.


    ¡°Oops, I heard your keys and your humming. I didn¡¯t know you were that close. I¡¯m sorry.¡± A shocked grimace on her face as she apologized.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. How did you get here so fast? I pretty much just sent that message.¡±


    ¡°Long story short, I needed peanut butter. You know how your dad sent that delicious¡ª¡± Jackie clamped her hand over her friend¡¯s mouth.


    Despite her tightening grip, the stubborn brunette moved her head around and continued to speak into her hand, although it was completely muffled.


    She would¡¯ve laughed, but something was off.


    Changing her grip to use her other hand to hold firmly onto the back of Riley¡¯s neck, she crouched to a squatting position, bringing her along.


    Anger rose in her chest.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s been here,¡± Jackie whispered darkly.


    A musky scent of wet fur hung in the air.


    She released Riley and stood.


    Walking further into the apartment to figure out what animal the smell belonged to, another pleasing fragrance filled her nostrils. It was¡­


    Blood.


    Jackie licked her lips and searched for its source.


    Kill! Kill! Kill!


    They must die!


    Whoever had invaded her home had signed their death sentence.


    Small imperceptible dark splotches of blood were splattered on the burgundy carpet, Jackie crouched down again and sniffed.


    Something was familiar about this scent, but recognition evaded her. The smell clotted the air around her.


    Intoxicated, she followed its scent to the living room. Her gaze skipped over the pristine couches that were just the way she¡¯d left them that morning and the television hung on the wall, untouched.


    The wolf smell lingering there was faint and fading.


    Jackie spun in a circle, trying to track signs of where the animal hid.


    Her desk, which sat in front of a window, was covered in the scent.


    Peering out the window and down at the parking lot, she leaned closer to the glass and inhaled deeply.


    ¡°Uh¡­ what¡¯s going on, you weirdo? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re gonna lick that?¡± Riley asked.


    A hand touched her shoulder as she whipped her head toward Riley. Urges to lunge and maul were held back with veiled restraint, a low guttural growl escaping her throat instead, a warning.


    Riley looked at her curiously, not knowing how close Jackie was to harming her.


    ¡°Hey, look at this,¡± Riley said, pointing down toward the top of her desk.


    Jackie was more interested in the scent but she glanced over anyway.


    Her research binders were open, the pages were splayed across the mahogany surface in disarray.


    It wasn¡¯t her prey, so she dismissed this and went back in pursuit of them.


    Next was her bedroom.


    The aroma of blood was stronger here.


    Everything was as she had left it, her closet door was still open and her clothes were still littered across the floor and her bed.


    Yanking the sheets away, she flung them behind her.


    Then her eyes locked on the bathroom door.


    There you are.


    She clambered toward it, sliding and stumbling as she got closer.


    Her breathing came in quick pants as she pulled the door open with a victorious grin on her face.


    Running in, skidding to a halt at the scene that greeted her.


    Riley grabbed her by the shoulders, leaning over, trying to examine her face. ¡°What''s going on with you?¡±


    Without turning to look at Riley, she flicked on the lights and lowered her head, tears stinging her eyes as they fell in the momentary silence.


    Her head was lifted enough to see Riley backing away from the sight of her roommate''s dead body. Riley¡¯s own tears turned to sobs.


    His sightless brown eyes held hers captive. It was like they were screaming at her for being alive. I¡¯m dead and you¡¯re not. How cruel. You¡¯re alive so avenge me!


    Of course, she knew eyes could not scream and it was her guilt talking.


    A faint dial tone rang in her ears, it was coming from behind her, then the sound of shaky breathing intensified, calming only when a woman¡¯s voice on the other line asked, "911, what''s your emergency?"


    "I-I¡­" Her distraught friend gave a false start before she seemed to break out of her shock enough to answer the dispatcher¡¯s questions.


    Drowning out the rest of the conversation, Jackie swallowed, biting her lip so hard she bled. She fell to her knees, tears flooding and blurring her vision.


    Simon''s lifeless eyes continued to watch her, his head crooked on the lip of the tub.


    Her hands horrified her. Killing this intruder took such a priority that she hadn¡¯t realized the blood belonged to her roommate, to¡­his name¡­Of course, she remembered his name. It¡¯s just her mind was still in a foggy state from the smell of blood.


    Crawling closer, she placed her guilt-ridden hand on his cold arm that hung outside the tub. Who killed you? If only you could speak, but you¡¯re dead.


    More tears fell.


    Jackie inhaled a steady breath, examining his mangled and contorted body.


    If only she had a power that would help her find his killer. All she had was a nose that cared more for killing than who was killed.


    Wait¡­the wolf scent.


    She glanced past her bedroom and toward the living room where she smelled the wolf. Its aroma was still in her nose, even though it was fading.


    Her eyes went back to Simon.


    The shattered tiles had blood dripping down in rivulets. His chest cavity was caved in and his mouth agape.


    Another choked sob trembled from her lips.


    He loosely held a piece of paper in his hand¡ªthe one she touched¡ªa yellow and blood-stained paper peeking out. She reached down and grabbed it.


    Opening the bloodstained note, it read:


    Cross the boundary and You''re next.

 Chapter 2: Two Kinds of Detecting

    Driving home Friday evening felt different. The crime scene, now a week old, flickered through her mind each time she got close to the apartment.


    Jackie put her car in park and pulled up a local news website on her phone.


    After she finished browsing the front page, she typed her ex-roommate¡¯s name in the search bar and pressed ENTER.


    No results.


    Frustrated, she searched, UNH student dead.


    Nothing she hadn¡¯t already seen before.


    Jackie flung the useless piece of junk into the passenger seat, tears forming in her eyes. What was taking so long? Her horn whined and cried out from her punches to the steering wheel. The violence didn¡¯t give her any reprieve so she released a restrained scream.


    After a calming breath, she removed her keys from the ignition. Exiting her car, she absentmindedly took the trek to her apartment building and took even more time up the steps to her unit.


    Outside her door, more thoughts ran through her mind. No one close to her had ever died. Death was a vague concept she hadn''t concerned herself with. Her family were all alive and so was she. They were immortals, for all she knew. Jackie heard of old classmates from high school who had passed away. But they had been just that. Old classmates. She could only call to mind minute impressions of them. Some she remembered as class clowns, others as talkative troublemakers. Death was an ever-present and a frequent occurrence; however it never familiarized itself with her. Not until now.


    Jackie¡¯s breathing quickened, and with sweaty palms, she counted to ten. Now that the aching in her chest disappeared she was ready to unlock the door and go inside. She unlocked the door, turned the knob and pushed it open.


    A dark entryway greeted her, with no enthusiasm or even relief that she made it back alive. She still hadn¡¯t gotten used to coming home to an empty apartment.


    She walked inside, standing in the foyer with her eyes closed tight. She didn¡¯t want to get used to Simon¡¯s absence. She wanted him alive. She missed coming home and complaining about the long monotonous lectures they had and comparing whose major was the hardest, or even about how they dreaded finals and hadn''t caught up on any of their assignments. Now, those stupid lectures in biology class¡ªdetailing the lifespan of a plant species had her thinking of the boy who couldn¡¯t take care of a plant no matter how hard she tried to teach him. She took a deep breath and flipped on the light switch. The lamps illuminated their¡ªno, her living room.


    His favorite beige couch was the first thing her eyes settled on. A few weeks ago, they bickered over which corner felt the most comfortable. They argued over the spoiled milk in the fridge. More and more of these petty arguments flew across her mind. With each one, she sent her apology. She didn¡¯t mean it when she said Simon was beginning to look like a fat pig. She was just angry. They were angry.


    After his death, these moments were relentless and popped in throughout the day. The police statements and her repeated answers to their questions went past like a blur in her mind¡¯s eye. Jackie regretted hiding that note, it could have been used for evidence. Except those times she had been grateful she hid it. There were enough villain stories of werewolves. The real questions were, why was someone threatening her? What had she done? She walked to her desk and pulled up the folder with all her research documents on her monitor. Jackie looked down at the sticky note she¡¯d written, marking down the pages that were stolen. She used to regard her research as a long trek of endless goose hunts, but now it was the key to solving Simon''s murder.


    The more this mysterious murderer wanted Jackie to leave the barrier alone, the more she delved. The forensic photographers snapping photos of her roommate dead in the bathtub, the detectives sniffing around their small apartment, rummaging through their kitchen cabinets, desk drawers, and the boxes Jackie kept in the closet finding zilch. The invasion ended with no fingerprints, no definitive evidence or suspects to interrogate. It wasn¡¯t yet a cold case, but it had lost its priority status.


    She found the files. The document''s title read: Theory of Lycanae Genetic Mutation. It was an early thesis of hers on the genetic variable that caused werewolves to shift forms. Jackie had a faint memory of the project¡¯s goal, but she was positive it was thrown out by one too many professors to count as significant. Just like a lot of her work at the time was. Her approach had drastically changed since those days. Jackie didn''t even know she still had these.


    She skimmed over some of the data, wincing at her grammatical errors and how unprofessionally her facts were presented. She leaned closer to the page on the screen, is that a random r in between specimens? She deleted it, restraining a groan. Using the time to refresh her recollection a bit while reading, she tried not to cringe. It was as she did this that something caught her interest, a gene-type called D-H56, a commonly overlooked category due to its close relation with genetic repair. The data didn''t have any notable changes between humans, wolves, and werewolves. Interesting but still, the change was very slight and incrementally minor. Nothing important. This document couldn''t have been the reason Simon was killed. This is ridiculous. She checked the sticky note again.


    A knock at the door broke her focus, pulling her out of her reverie.


    Riley¡¯s cinnamon apple scented perfume gave her away. Her best friend loved to wear it during Christmas or when she needed a pick-me-up.This time, it just happened to be used for both purposes. The reminder of the time of year allowed other thoughts into her mind. In three weeks, her dad would be coming with her brother in tow so they could go Christmas-shopping. Shutting that out for now would help her focus on this. She couldn¡¯t be distracted. Someone wants to stop her from crossing the boundary enough to kill someone close to her. Jackie unlocked the door and let her in. Riley gave her a brisk hug. As she was pulling away, the brunette placed both hands on either side of her cheeks causing her to stand still while Riley turned her head this way and that.


    ¡°Are you okay? I called your phone, and you didn¡¯t pick up.¡±


    Jackie pat her pockets and spoke through squished lips, ¡°Oh, I left it downstairs in the car.¡±


    Riley looked at her, a concerned look in her eyes.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t lock your keys in the car as well, did you? You sound so lifeless and distracted.¡±


    Jackie pointed at the bowl on the glass table where she had deposited her keys.


    ¡°I¡¯m not that dumb¡­¡± Jackie said then ambled back to her computer, eager to finish where she left off. Next on the list is the hormonal imbalance report Jackie submitted three years ago. She furrowed her brows, scanned the notes and found the corresponding documents. She perused its contents. These were all her failures. The things that were tossed out by their department heads. They also needed heavy revisions. Most, if not all, of these were her shortcomings as an undergrad.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Riley asked, putting her chin on her friend¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Why would anyone want these?¡± Jackie pointed at the screen. ¡°There are typos everywhere and some of my math is off. It is clearly incomplete.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m looking at, so I¡¯ll just take your word for it. But why are you looking at these?¡±


    ¡°The killer took these before or after he killed Simon and I¡¯m trying to find him¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to chase down a murderer?¡±


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    Sighing, Jackie replied, ¡°He killed Simon and I could be next.¡±


    Riley cocked her head to the side, opening and closing her mouth. She then looked skyward before her gaze returned to hers as she said, ¡°I know I can¡¯t change your mind, but can¡¯t we just report this to the police first?¡±


    Jackie gave her an exasperated look.


    ¡°Sure but I doubt anything will come from it.¡±


    ***


    She had to wrestle with Riley outside the police station door, Riley had ultimately won and thus, dragged an unwilling Jackie into the lobby. Jackie had spotted Riley¡¯s car in the driveway outside her job earlier when she was on break.


    Riley almost confiscated the sub she had been eating and threatened to reveal Jackie¡¯s deepest secret to her mom if Jackie didn¡¯t come with her when she got off work. Best friends. They knew scary details about your life. Not to mention, Riley was well acquainted with that frightening lady.


    ¡°Hello, officer. I want to know if there¡¯s been progress on a murder case. Who should I speak to for that?¡± Riley asked the receptionist at the counter, who was busy switching between typing and writing notes in a journal.


    The man looked up and called someone over. This new officer was in uniform with a refreshing set of bright blue eyes. His radiant, straight teeth had Jackie shielding her eyes. This officer had pinchable cheeks that were reddening by the minute, his eyes locked on Riley, his expression starstruck.


    ¡°I know you.¡± He pulled something up on his phone and showed it to them. It was Riley¡¯s social media page where she posted her photos and information about where her next photo shoot would be. She traveled all over the world and had millions of followers on her different internet platforms because of her modeling career. These kinds of interactions weren¡¯t as common, but there were occasions like this. Riley gave him her most charming smile.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s me. Are you a fan? Would you like my autograph?¡± she asked, and he nodded so quick and fast, his head might¡¯ve snapped right off and rolled to the ground.


    Jackie rolled her eyes, saying, ¡°Seriously? You think this is the right time for this? You gotta be kidding me right now. We¡¯re here because my roommate is dead. Not to host your next fan signing event.¡±


    Riley shushed her, casting a wink her way. It was too late, the cop was already stumbling away and crashing through a pair of steel doors. He reappeared; a magazine with Riley¡¯s face plastered on it in his hand. Her smoky black eyes gave off a mash up between grunge and emo.


    Jackie released a deep sigh. This was taking far too long. All she had wanted to do was prove her point to Riley, the police were useless and then she would go back to her own investigation like she had originally planned.


    ¡°Could you do me a favor?¡± Riley asked while signing her name. Jackie was tempted to call him Bobble Head with all the expectant nods.


    ¡°I need to talk to someone about a murder case. Maybe even the officer in charge. The victim¡¯s name is Simon McCarthy. Can you do this for me?¡±


    The officer¡¯s expression changed. He grabbed the magazine back with gentle hands, placed a hand on his chin and pursed his lips. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do¡± was the response he gave. The uncertainty was apparent in his voice.


    He walked off, and we were left alone with the multitasking receptionist, who was now taking calls. After twenty minutes passed, she nudged Riley¡¯s shoulder and jabbed her thumb toward the parking lot. ¡°I¡¯m ready to leave. He isn¡¯t com¡ª¡±


    Blue Eyes chose that moment to come jogging back. Jackie groaned at his overjoyous grin, those shiny whites blinding her a third time. ¡°He said to bring you in.¡±


    Riley gave her a triumphant look as they were guided behind a door and into a narrow hallway. Glass display boards hung on the wall with awards and portraits of supposedly honorable officers whose stern faces judged Jackie as they walked past. Curious about the hustling and bustling noises further ahead, she picked up her pace.


    Jackie didn¡¯t acknowledge the whispered exchange between Riley and Mr. Blue Eyes when she charged ahead. Her eyes centered on the cops in their black and blue uniforms watching as they scurried across the aisle of desks, passing paperwork between one another. Jackie couldn¡¯t catch any fleeting conversations because Blue Eyes veered right and pushed open a door to what looked like an office. He waved her over, making a small sound when Jackie didn''t budge. It was an office. An office that reeked of daisies.


    Jackie pinched her nostrils, and fought against Riley¡¯s iron grip as her friend pulled her into the room, her eyes seeking the source of that pungent smell. Those infuriating flowers always made her nose so itchy and runny. Her eyes were even getting watery. Jackie gazed longingly at the closing wooden door that Blue Eyes pulled shut behind them. Get me out of here, she wished she could scream this. Jackie tried to reach for the knob, but Riley was quick to swat her hand and turned her shoulders back to face the officer who was beginning to stand.


    ¡°Hello, my name is Caleb Wilde.¡± The smooth voice beckoned her eyes to meet his. His gray eyes lingered on hers as he looked from her to Riley. The cologne emitting from his uniform held a hint of daisies. Jackie breathed through her mouth and stared at him wide-eyed. What grown man wore daisies in his cologne? Did he even know? Did a brand like that actually exist? ¡°I¡¯m the detective in charge of McCarthy''s case. May I ask, what is your relationship with the victim?¡±


    ¡°No, we are his friends. I''m Riley and this is Jackie,¡±¡ªRiley pointed at her¡ª¡°she¡¯s also his roommate.¡± Riley pushed her forward and down into the armchair in front of his desk. Jackie drew back as far as the chair allowed.


    ¡°That''s rude,¡± Riley whispered and swatted her hand away from her nose. A whine slipped from her lips as Riley pinned her arms to her side. Still, she breathed through her mouth as best as she could.


    He didn''t look offended or bothered by her reaction. His brows were furrowed and his nose twitch was imperceptible to anyone without sharp senses. But nothing in his expression read, Die, you rude bitch. Instead those gray eyes stared into hers with curiosity, his head even tilted.


    Riley rubbed Jackie¡¯s shoulders and shook her.


    ¡°Tell him what you told me.¡±


    ¡°I think¡­¡± Jackie began, ¡°the killer was after me. Simon died because of me.¡±


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡±


    ¡°They might have been after my research, but I don¡¯t know why.¡± Jackie slid the fresh print-outs of the stolen documents on top of his desk. ¡°I¡¯m a biochem major and I focus my studies on werewolves. This could be what the killer was after¡­¡±


    He shook his head.


    ¡°Do you know of any other suspects, maybe an angry ex? Did he mention any arguments with a friend?¡± It was Jackie¡¯s turn to shake her head, his questions were answered in her police report. It seemed this guy hadn¡¯t read those so she slid closer to the door. Riley grabbed her wrist tight and pulled her back. Jackie gave her an exasperated look. He said he wasn''t interested in listening, was she deaf? Fine, She''ll have to prove her point further.


    Not stifling her scoff, Jackie asked, ¡°Are you really the one in charge of this case? Have you even read the case file?¡± A snarl formed on her lips. ¡°If you won¡¯t do anything, then give this case to someone who will.¡±


    With that said, Jackie handed him the killer¡¯s note. The damp spots had dried and wrinkled the paper, but the words were still legible and the threat was obvious.


    The detective sat up and grabbed the paper from her hands. His eyes scanned the note again and again. ¡°When did you find this? Why wasn¡¯t this discovered along with all the other evidence?¡± he asked. Jackie avoided his gaze. Her eyes fell on Riley who was giving her a pointed stare. What a way to show your loyalty.


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust cops.¡± That was half-true. She held a distrust for people in general. Should she tell him she knew the killer was a werewolf? She couldn¡¯t forget the smell of their wolf. No, that doesn¡¯t classify as evidence. It was hearsay and would be thrown out of court.


    Wilde turned his attention back to the note in his hand, not sparing another glance toward the documents. Jackie was getting tired of his dismissals. This was important evidence and he ignored them.


    ¡°Has anything happened recently? Did you receive any other threats?¡± He sounded genuinely concerned.


    ¡°No threats, but I''m not waiting around for this bastard to find me.¡± Jackie spoke through gritted teeth.


    ¡°What do you mean you won''t wait?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s trying to get herself killed is what she means.¡± Riley answered him, her eyes pleading.


    ¡°I''m not going to die. I can handle this. It''s just one measly werewol¡ª¡±


    ¡°And she''s been at it for a couple of days. Is this a stage of grief that I never read about? Should I get her some help?¡± Riley spoke over her, interrupting her which she was grateful for. She glanced at Detective Wilde to see if he caught her slip-up. His gaze was pensive as he stared off into space.


    ¡°This is a usual response from someone who is grieving a friend¡¯s murder. I will look over these papers you¡¯ve given me, but I¡¯m afraid they might not get this investigation anywhere. I will notify you if there are any more leads we can follow.¡± He passed his business card to them both. ¡°Here is my number if you need anything.¡±


    Jackie gave a small sigh of relief as soon as they left the detective¡¯s office. They were walking down the police station¡¯s steps when Jackie looked over and locked eyes with Ben, his lip split and his left eye swollen. She couldn¡¯t contain the laugh that slipped through her lips.


    ¡°What the hell happened to you?¡± she asked.

 Chapter 3: Reports to the King

    Detective Wilde watched Jackie and Riley leave, his tensed shoulders relaxing when the door completely closed.


    He looked down at the note on his desk. Was she really in danger?


    Releasing a deep exhale, he relaxed in his chair. This woman was making his life difficult.


    He cringed, his nose scrunching on his next inhale. Ugh, daisies were the worst, but he couldn''t have her recognizing his scent. His cover would be blown. Thank the Moon Goddess, he built a habit of wearing it while on-duty.


    Caleb spent years covering for these rampant werewolves, trying to erase evidence of their existence. It was hard work. He was growing tired of all the work piling up. Not to mention, the teenagers who went overboard and shifted in front of mortals.


    His temples throbbed incessantly. These clean-ups took too long. His main mission was babysitting his queen and it has been infuriating these last few weeks.


    Now there was an impending threat on her life. If she wasn''t his future queen, he would strangle her himself.


    She was mind-numbingly unaware of the attention her research had gotten. He had killed too many werewolves over the last few months and he was exhausted. At conventions, outside her university¡¯s science building, and her library meetings.


    His thought faded as Frankie came waltzing into his office again, bearing a childish smile. The responding glare from the other party caused Frankie¡¯s smile to grow wider.


    ¡°So what''s happened?¡± Frankie asked, rubbing his hands together.


    ¡°Fucking walking disaster, that''s what she is. Can''t she just stay low and pursue her research like she always did? Now she wants to go where? The blasted lass. She has no sense of self-preservation. The kingdom is not like any place she ever step foot upon.¡±


    ¡°Whoa there, grumpy. She just lost her friend.¡±


    ¡°¡­okay, yeah. You''re right. It''s this smell, sometimes I can''t think straight. You sure you didn''t sell me a knock-off, Frankie?¡±


    ¡°What do you take me for? When have I ever?¡±


    Caleb looked him dead in the eyes.


    ¡°Are you forgetting the flute? You promised me it was made with Siren magic.¡±


    Frankie, a renowned faerie craftsman, who sold the detective silver weapons he crafted for cheap. Cheap by kingdom standards.


    Aside from weapons, Frankie had sold Caleb some miscellaneous items he¡¯d bought from other faeries at expensive prices. Prices set so high even his king would gawk at, but then again he couldn''t imagine his king gawking at anything. The king was more a short-tempered person than a gawker.


    The Nyme elixirs he used daily to cloak his odour worked, but he had never used one with daisies. It was an irritating smell for wolves. Caleb held back a sneeze. Well, unless he planned on taking the trip himself, he wouldn''t complain.


    ¡°What? I apologized for that over a thousand times already. That''s what the faerie who sold it to me claimed.¡± The blue-eyed faerie raised his hand in surrender. ¡°It''s really not my fault,¡± he said with a mischievous grin, his deceptive blue eyes locking on the glaring detective.


    Caleb¡¯s glare must have been piercing enough to wipe the grin from Frankie¡¯s lips.


    ¡°So when do you plan on telling your king?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send a letter in the morning.¡±


    Frankie shook his head, his index finger moving side-to-side in time with the tsk, tsk, tsk sound coming from his lips.


    ¡°His queen¡¯s life is in danger now. This should be important enough for you to go there and deliver the message. Personally.¡±


    The detective mulled over the idea. Go to the king and tell him his mate was in danger. Was it worth? Would the king care?


    He looked down and read the words written on the bloodied note.


    Another sigh left his lips. He shooed Frankie out of his office and sank lower in his chair, opening a nearby cabinet.


    He grabbed the armband that he¡¯d shoved under a stack of papers and held it up for inspection. The artificial light reflecting off its golden surface, Caleb recalled the last thing the king had said to him before Caleb had left.


    ¡°I hope to never see you again, Sir Wilde.¡±


    The king wasn¡¯t going to like this. He put the band back where he found it and closed the drawer. It was time to go home.


    ***


    Passing through the boundary always felt painful and time-consuming. It felt worse than the first time Caleb transformed into a wolf. With each shift, he had gotten used to the feeling of his skin and muscles stretching and the morphing of his body. It had become as normal and comfortable as changing clothes. Now there was nothing to it. However, with the boundary, it wanted to tear his entire existence apart. It punished him for each and every crossing.


    Based on what he had heard between the whispers from his elders, the boundary tested your spirit before allowing you through. It accepted who it wanted and rejected others. The elders called it an ancient god. One that was sealed into this form to protect Infideon forever.


    It was at these times when he almost believed them. It was hard not to when your skin felt like it was being shredded over and over. When Caleb used to work in the castle, he watched as those whom the boundary rejected were obliterated.


    For most, he had to stand and watch their skin melt and their bodies dissolve until not much was left but a gooey mush. Even after seeing that, Caleb didn¡¯t break a sweat when he traveled to Earth. It could have been his arrogance as an Alpha wolf or simply a way to prove his fealty to his king.


    The castle loomed ahead as he got closer, approaching the gates. The guards stood on alert, eying him with suspicion.


    He read their intent in the way they moved. Their body language spoke for them. Their stances were angled low to the ground, their wolf instinct preparing to address their perceived threat. Had he once been like these guards? It was possible.


    Castle guardsmen held too much responsibility on their shoulders. He had gone from protector of the palace and his king to protector of its secrets.


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    He could almost bet if these guards had been in their wolf form, they¡¯d have been crouching right now. That, he could guarantee. This was one of the best times to be a guard, these were the calmer hours. Their alertness showed their competency. Caleb was impressed. Not much traffic of wolves coming in and out.


    Caleb flashed them his insignia which was tattooed on his left bicep.


    They scuffled away with a salute allowing him entry into the kingdom of Alffatir.


    He didn''t even get to walk a couple of steps before he was ambushed from behind.


    ¡°Welcome back, stranger!¡± His sister, Sophia¡¯s voice sailed toward him.


    Chuckling, Caleb reached up, held her arm and tried to break from her death grip.


    ¡°What a beautiful way to greet your older brother, Soph.¡±


    He twisted her arm behind her back with ease, freeing himself from under it. Then he gave her his best grin.


    ¡°How¡¯s Mom¡¯s sickness?¡± he asked.


    She returned his smile with an unsteady one.


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ well¡­ She¡¯s still the same as always.¡±


    Her gaze forlorn as she said this. Caleb noticed her rubbing her side where small Beta drops were on her shirt.


    He drew closer.


    His sister tried to shrink away from him so he slowed his approach. When she calmed down, he raised her shirt and saw the long slash on her side.


    ¡°She did this?¡±


    A cross between a whimper and a laugh came from her.


    ¡°It''s fine. I''ll be fine soon.¡±


    I have to check on Mom later. I need to see for myself how bad things have gotten.


    He released her and bit his lip, taking the folded research pages he¡¯d stolen in a rush from his pocket.


    Handing them to her, Caleb remembered how nervous he was that day. He hadn''t realised how important the queen''s research was or the type of impact it could have for werewolves until he had listened in on one of the queen''s Ph.D. student presentation. It was the first time he learned what her research was about.


    The morning of the murder, Caleb confirmed there was no one inside before he entered Queen Jackie''s apartment through her window.


    Immediately, the hairs on his nape began to rise and his hands began to shake. Caleb looked down at the gooseflesh spread across his arms. It was at that moment he realised she was dangerous. A natural predator. There was something about her scent that oppressed him. Everything was marked with her smell and his head felt dizzy. Every instinct inside him screamed warnings to tread with caution.


    Caleb headed toward a computer that was covered with the queen''s scent, the smell turning his steps tentative and after five failed attempts at guessing her password, he moved onto the binders in a container beside her desk. He fumbled a little while he flipped through the pages inside. The binders flopped out of his hands once or twice. Caleb really wanted to get out of there.


    Most of the jargon eluded him which is why he was looking for that specific gene-type name. She mentioned it in one of those student seminars he attended. Finally there it was. He ran a finger over it when he reached the final pages.


    Caleb was halfway through reading a couple before the sound of footsteps approaching broke his concentration.


    He sniffed.


    A wolf.


    Why was she back so early? Registering he hadn''t put on anything to cover his scent today, Caleb tried to remain calm.


    He snatched the papers he had been reading and exited the same way he entered.


    It wasn''t until he turned the corner two blocks from his job when it dawned on him that the scent he smelled coming down the hall wasn''t hers.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Sophia asked, breaking him from his reverie.


    She leafed through the sheets of paper, handling them carelessly as she turned them over in her hand.


    Her furrowed brows deepened and she tilted her head.


    She was quick to hand them back to him with disinterest. ¡°I don¡¯t understand this. It all looks like gibberish to me. But seriously, what is that?¡±


    ¡°This is the answer. It¡¯s unfinished and needs some correction but this can cure Mom¡¯s sickness. Lunacy can be cured.¡± Caleb lowered his voice to a whisper as he continued, ¡°Our future queen has discovered a way to cure it. I thought it was a farce at first but this is real, Soph. She can be cured of lunacy for good.¡±


    Her eyes widened.


    ¡°Seriously? Did you make this? Is that why we haven''t seen you for years? You''ve been helping the queen make this to cure Mom? I¡¯m honestly surprised you survived the cross, Luce must love you.¡±


    ¡°Luce?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the goddess¡¯s name, right?¡± she asked. Caleb never heard anyone give a name to the trapped ancient deity.


    ¡°I thought it was a god.¡±


    She waved her hand as if he was being ridiculous.


    ¡°It''s a goddess. I''ve been studying her origin story with Albert. The king has been taking more notice of our efforts since then.¡±


    ¡°And how did you find out it was a goddess?¡±


    ¡°That was simple. I won''t bore you with the details. I even know her name, the ancient texts refer to her as Luciferin.¡± She gave him an enigmatic smile, her blueish-gray eyes sparkling.


    They continued their walk. Caleb didn''t have much to add while she spoke about her historical findings. He enjoyed watching her pursue her passions from a distance. Much like their queen''s research pursuits, they were beyond his scope of understanding. They made it to the marble staircase that led to the palace.


    After seeing him off, his sister walked eastward where the royal library was. He shook his head, thinking, what a nerd.


    He stared after her, waiting for her to turn back like she did so often in the past.


    When it was obvious she wasn''t going to, his gaze turned to the papers clutched in his hand.


    Caleb folded them and put them back into his jacket pocket. He''d look at them later after he gave his report to the king.


    He saluted the guards outside the palace doors, took a deep breath and then made his way to the king¡¯s dining room. King Graham was having dinner, his fork halfway to his mouth when he found him. The king cleared his throat and placed the silver fork back on his porcelain plate.


    ¡°This better be urgent. I knew you were rude, but not giving notice of your arrival goes beyond anything you¡¯ve done before.¡± Graham looked anything but angry. Let alone surprised at his being there.


    ¡°You can always be rid of my presence if you terminate my assignment, Your Highness,¡± Caleb said, his tone even. He cracked his knuckles, sending for a nearby maid. When one approached, he gave her instructions to pass to the chef. When she scurried away, he turned his attention back to the king.


    There was a smile of displeasure on the king¡¯s face as he said, ¡°I never knew anyone to treat my castle like their home.¡± He waited for Caleb to sit before continuing, ¡°Now what is it you wish to report?¡±


    ¡°She is in danger.¡±


    ¡°Again, how many times this month? I¡¯m tired of hearing this. I believe you do this to test my patience, Caleb, and I would advise you not to.¡±


    ¡°The third time, your Majesty. But this time, the danger comes in the form of a threat.¡± Caleb handed him the note with the threat on it. ¡°I¡¯ve done my best to protect her and hide her identity. But I believe someone now knows who she is. I suspect they might know of your connection.¡±


    King Grahaam growled and pushed his plate away from him.


    ¡°Is that all?¡±


    ¡°No¡ª¡± A plate flew past his ear, he patiently dodged and a small yip came from behind him.


    Caleb turned. The maid he¡¯d sent to the kitchens earlier was holding my plate, steak sauce covered her clothes. She was trying to hold in her hiccups as she placed the emptied plate in front of him. Betas¡­they scared easily.


    King Grahaam often had these bouts of rage, and from the bags under his eyes and the shifting feet of the Betas, they were getting worse and more frequent.


    ¡°She wants to do what?¡±


    ¡°Cross the boundary. I received intel from the library she attends. She and her group intend on crossing whenever they gather the means to do so.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Grahaam said, his teeth grinding together. ¡°Ensure she stays in the Earth realm, Caleb. I would hate to kill one of my best.¡± His gaze was predatorial, but familiar. It was the same look Caleb¡¯s mother gave him all those years ago from the head of the dinner table.


    The lunacy was quickly growing and deteriorating the king''s mind.

 Chapter 4: Two Kinds of Duty

    Caleb must not have paid attention to the surroundings with the news he had for the king because much had changed. The gravel roads had been replaced with cobblestones. He walked down the castle steps, saluting the knights.


    He peered at the library briefly as he sprinted behind the building into an alleyway. Caleb kicked tiny stones, balled up paper and steered to avoid pieces of chewed gum. Youthful chuckles echoed through the enclosed space, he looked behind him to find their source.


    His eyes met two little snaggletooth pups, their heads leaning out from the opening, toothy grins on their faces. They turned to each other and started whispering. ¡°Is he new around here, Sal? He doesn''t know this alley is a bad place to be?¡±


    ¡°Well it ain''t night time yet¡­so he might be safe.¡±


    ¡°Hey, mister,¡± the nervous Sal said, her voice soft and cracking. ¡°This way isn''t safe."


    ¡°How come?¡± He keeps his tone friendly.


    ¡°This is where the king dumps his dead,¡± she squeaked, looking this way and that before running to him. The top of her head, the same height as his knees. She latched onto his fingers and pulled him out into the street, out of the alley in a hurry.


    ¡°Haven''t your mama told you ''bout how dangerous the king¡¯s become?¡± Caleb couldn''t hold back his smile. This adorable pup was telling him how scary the king was. ¡°You best hide in fear or you¡¯ll be next. Mama says the king kills us Alphas for sport. Don''t go telling nobody I told you otherwise. The king eats our hearts and imprisons us in his belly. That''s how Uncle Bow-leg died.¡± She shook her head, her face solemn. ¡°Mama says he had it coming for a long time. But Mama ain¡¯t like Uncle Bow-leg no way.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± the timid boy clinging to his outspoken friend¡¯s shirt spoke up. ¡°We know the king killed him. I can tell you that.¡±


    ¡°He ate his heart because he ain''t got none. And he ain''t done searching.¡±


    Caleb grumbled and walked back into the alleyway, his face upturned. They followed him down three more alleys. Wherever he turned their small pitter-pattering feet followed him. They sprinkled him with salt and tales of their heartless king.


    When they entered the final alley, he had enough.


    The ever familiar fire hydrant seemed to pull him forward, he was almost home.


    Just one more block.


    Once he turned around this last corner and made sure to be careful around the clutter of carriage in the upcoming road. He¡¯d get to open the door and see his mom. She¡¯d probably look weak and forlorn at him but eventually she would at least cup his cheek and smile.


    His heartbeat elevated and straightened his tie, in preparation of his homecoming appearance.


    Brushing his hands through his hair, he raised his hand and finally acknowledged the jabbering pups. ¡°Do you two follow strangers home often?¡±


    When they nodded, he continued, ¡°And do you know what the king looks like?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­no.¡± They exchanged looks, eyes widening as they slowly turned their gaze toward him.


    With tears in her eyes, Sal slid back a few paces, pulling on her buddy¡¯s arm and bringing her back too.


    ¡°He has blue eyes and brown hair and a slightly overgrown beard." Caleb scrubbed his own in false contemplation. ¡°A¡ª¡± Before he could finish, their panting breaths as their scuttling feet booked it around the nearest corner.


    ¡°Mommy!¡±


    ¡°Mama!¡±


    He cackled at their screeching cries. Really takes you back to the old days, being young and fearless.


    ***


    ¡°Welcome home, young master,¡± Brockley said, his frame held the white door open as he ushered Caleb inside with a tight smile on his face.


    ¡°Brock!¡± He clapped the butler¡¯s hand and pulled his prudently stiff body into an even more rigid hug. ¡°How are you? How¡¯s¡­Charlotte? Did she have the babe? Was it a boy or a girl?¡±


    Brock replied, ¡°I¡¯m fine, my wife¡¯s fine as well. Thank you for asking. She had the baby safely. Her name is Vivianne and she¡¯s eight, she works with her mother now. She was recently recommended to become the baroness¡¯s daughter''s personal maid. I have much to be proud of.¡± His grin reflected the pride of a father, causing Caleb to feel a twinge of jealousy. What would it be like to have a family and live a stable life? To be a father? He shook his head and crossed the threshold.


    Brock pat him on his shoulder and said, ¡°Seven years is a long time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see Mom,¡± Caleb told him.


    Baked ginger snaps and jam filled his nostrils, he licked his lips. ¡°Is Aava done baking? I left enough space for a meal or two,¡± Caleb said, patting his belly.


    The grand piano that he remembered in front of the fireplace was missing. Their family painting on the fireplace¡¯s mantle now had snow globes of all colours but more notably, yellow and blue. His mother¡¯s least favorite colours. She kept them out of her paintings and wore every color of dress, except those. Her aged bear rug had switched positions as well, he spotted its familiar brown shape pushed under the fridge.


    Servants passed him with jittery smiles and brief bows. The ladder that had always stayed in the yard was now in their living room, resting against the bookshelves. He spun in a circle, taking in all the changes. It wasn¡¯t anything he grew up seeing. Everything seemed old but new. Refurbished somehow. Every room they passed or entered were painted white and its ¡°refreshing¡± shade was out to blind him. He missed the wood, mostly for its earthy smell and its hardened surface. He still liked the sound his footsteps made as he walked but he¡¯d only wished the floors weren¡¯t painted. He wished nothing had changed. What was Father thinking? From as much as Caleb heard his mother wasn¡¯t stable enough to make these changes on her own. So Father had to be the one responsible for ruining the house in this way.


    Caleb frowned, confused.


    He was done looking at the new furnishing, he was already tired of seeing it all.


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    ¡°This way.¡±


    Brock led him through the kitchen, the dining room, before leading them into his least favourite room in the house.


    His mother¡¯s painting room.


    He cast the black sheer curtains away from his face. Dust motes floated around and tickled his nose until he quietly sneezed in his elbow. This room hadn¡¯t been renovated or touched. It felt out of place with the rest of the house, but to him, it was the only place in this house he recognized as home. The pine scent brought him so much peace and comfort. This was how his home was supposed to smell. He imagined his mother posing atop a stool in front of the room where the chalkboard clung to the wall while his sister and him giggled behind easels at the goofy faces she made. The memory brought a smile to his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since she¡¯s entered this room,¡± Brock stopped short when he noticed Caleb wasn¡¯t following anymore.


    ¡°It¡¯s gotten that bad?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it has. Master is trying his best to call in the best physicians he could find. He¡¯s even issued help from the royal physician.¡± Brock shook his head. ¡°How desperate he must be.¡±


    Caleb shuddered. The room was now giving him the creeps. He always hated lingering here. He marched out, pulling the door closed behind him. In the hall, Brock climbed the winding staircase, looking back occasionally to check if Caleb was keeping up. Had his parents moved rooms as well?


    Caleb grabbed the banister and followed after him, taking careful steps. He remembered the look on Brock¡¯s face when he''d opened the door and saw Caleb. How bad had it gotten?


    Trodding down the long hallways, he stressed over what he was about to face. Finally, when they reached the master bedchamber, Caleb pressed his ear to his parent¡¯s door; it discomforted him that there was no movement inside. He looked to his side where Brock should have been, only to find the space empty. He was summoning up some sense of courage when something rang in his head. It came from the pack bond, it wasn''t words but a metaphysical warning.


    Taking a calming breath, he braved opening the door. As soon as he did, a snarling wolf came springing at him.


    Caught off-guard, Caleb moved out the way at the last second, his mother¡¯s claws dragged along his waist. The smell of his blood filled the space bringing a wolfish grin to her lips, her fangs winking at him. The scent seemed to spur her on even further.


    He raised his palms, placing one foot behind him, he shifted his stance and braced himself for her next attack.


    A growl rumbled from her chest as she threw herself at him again. He yelped, her fangs embedding into his shoulder. Fuck. Her fangs sank deeper bringing a whimper from him. He didn¡¯t know it had gotten this bad. He didn¡¯t think she could get her lucidity back.


    Without any other choice, he tore himself away, dodged her oncoming assaults as a stretching feeling came over his muscles, his face, everywhere on his body. The change was overcoming him, but he fought it with all his might.


    No, not now.


    From her incensed growl, his mother¡¯s patience was thinning.


    He bowed his head. Fighting his mother was pointless.


    At that, she released him and retreated to the canopy bed. No fur in sight either.


    A numbing sensation spread over his wound, he looked down at his hand, relieved to see they were still hands and not paws.


    She advanced at him. Sunlight revealed her clouded irises, the sight unnerved him¡ªsomething off about the colour.


    His mother crashed into him while he was distracted.


    He lowered his head under her neck, feeling the guttural sounds she made.


    When he moved, she followed him, put her head atop his, her threatening breath heated his neck and along his back. Minutes passed like this until she calmed, retracting her fangs and allowing him to move about the room.


    The she-wolf sauntered under comforters piled in a corner, her tangle of hair rising until she locked eyes with Caleb, glaring and clutching the sheets to her.


    He rushed through the open bathroom door, fetched his mother some clothes and ran back out.


    She was in the same spot as before, her head whipped toward him and her glare returned.


    ¡°Mom?¡± Her gaze fell to his mouth, watching like a silent hawk. She continued staring at him, he swore her eyes were less glazed so he kept talking.


    ¡°I¡¯m home now and like I promised, I came back. I¡¯m sorry it took so long,¡± he murmured, crouched and waddled toward her at a measured pace.


    Bam!


    He jerked around at the sound to see his father¡ªthe burly man he was, his thin lips forever in a straight line¡ªdeflated his spirit a smidgen.


    ¡°Get away from her!¡± His father¡¯s shout made Caleb curl into himself. ¡°You don¡¯t need to waste your time checking on us. Your mother is being taken care of. I have everything under control here.¡±


    Caleb made an exaggerated gesture toward his mom and asked, ¡°That¡¯s what you call doing okay? Is she even aware of what¡¯s happening right now? She attacked me before I could fully open the door. For all we know she doesn¡¯t even know I¡¯m her son. Do you even care that she attacked Soph?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happened to Sophia?¡±


    ¡°Ask her yourself.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk, boy. Where have you been all these years? You don¡¯t know how long Sophia cried when you left, let alone how much more she did once your mother completely lapsed into¡­ into this state,¡± he said, ¡°Who knows? You could have saved your mother from going mad had you stayed. You know full well how your mother feels about family. But no, you do your best to appease and pacify your king. Even abandon your duties to this family for seven whole years!¡±


    ¡°Oh, what a hypocrite you are, Father. You served under King John. You of all people should understand my responsibilities. Is this not the person you raised me to become? A proper dog for the next king. Except you didn¡¯t expect the next king would be a hybrid. The king comes first, those were your favorite words when I was young. I grew up with a father who was constantly putting the needs of a nation above family concerns. It was only after King John died¡ª¡±


    ¡°My king was murdered,¡± his father outcried.


    ¡°¡ªthat brought your attention back to us. Even now you¡¯re consumed with ¡®pack business¡¯. Such a surprise that now the gracious Grand Alpha Alexander has time to spare for his wife.¡±


    Caleb¡¯s bottom lip trembled.


    His father raised his hand to strike Caleb, but his mother stood in front of her son, wearing the clothes he had given her.


    ¡°Even in this state, she defends you, she tries to protect a disobedient pup like you.¡± His father placed his hand on his mother¡¯s cheek in a soothing gesture. ¡°I won¡¯t harm the boy, my love.¡±


    For a long moment, she kept a dark stare aimed at his father. A fearsome growl resounding, it came from his mother¡¯s protruding chest. Her bloodshot eyes wide, she jerked forward and got in his father¡¯s face. The sound was mostly indiscernible, even still, the word move! came to mind. His father pulled away from her snapping teeth and shifted his gaze to the wall before moving out of her way. Determination shone in his mother¡¯s eyes as she yanked Caleb into the hall.


    She stuck her head out the door, looked at him then down the end of the hall and finally toward the staircase before slamming the door in his face. He stood there, dumbfounded. Whose side was she on? His? His father¡¯s? Had she been protecting him? Or was he the one in the wrong?


    Caleb dove deeper into his thoughts as he made his way toward the stairs. His father wasn¡¯t entirely wrong and he had vowed to himself long ago that he wouldn¡¯t turn out like his father. He wouldn¡¯t lose sight of the ones he loved. He didn¡¯t know how fast or slow the lunacy progressed or how much worse it could become. He wanted his mom back to normal and there was only one way he could see that happening. He pulled the crumpled pages from his jacket. He unfolded it and tried to comprehend what was written.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± His sister¡¯s voice rang in his head. ¡°Did you make this? Is that why we haven''t seen you for years? You''ve been helping the queen make this to cure Mom?¡± Those ridiculous questions made him feel bad that they weren¡¯t true. Why hadn¡¯t he been doing that instead of babysitting? The king came first, that was why. He shook his head. Not anymore. Not this time.

 Chapter 5: Requesting Your Queenly Assistance

    The whirring sound of the elevator shaft screeching in her ears pulled Jackie from her dream. It was a bad idea to live so close to the contraption. The darn thing was so loud, she avoided using it at all cost. There was no way she was going to willingly walk into that steel cage and hurl to her death. She didn¡¯t care what Riley said; the stairs were much safer. This line of thinking woke her up completely so she rubbed her hands over her crusted eyes, stretching. A few moments later, she took the water bottle from her nightstand because her throat was killing her. After she was finished draining the container and began making her way to the kitchen, a pounding on the door elicited a yip from her.


    The knob jiggled, she squeezed the bottle in her nervous grip as she moved closer.


    She slid behind her bedroom door and listened to the encroaching footsteps. Anger flaring as she smelled a familiar musk. She tossed the crushed bottle onto the couch, it thumped onto the carpet as she dashed past. She lurched toward the front door and almost tore it off its hinges in her eagerness to confront her late night intruder, her heart racing. But there was no one there. Just the flickering light of a nearby sconce on the wall.


    She stopped short, bewildered. She was sure there had been someone. Her senses were sharper and reliable in that way. She shook her head, thinking she should probably get more sleep.


    ¡°It smelled like that wolf,¡± she grated. Her hand twitched. She imagined she was strong enough to rip someone¡¯s throat out. If only she had the killer instinct in her. Much like the one she felt back when...the memory of Simon¡¯s blood washed over her, the lingering and memorable scent filling her lungs. Only now her instinct remained dormant and nothing inside her screamed for blood.


    She closed her eyes.


    ¡°If that fucker dared show up, I-I¡¯d rip his spine from him.¡± Clamping her mouth shut to disguise her fear, she closed the door, turning the lock.


    She began to return to her room and paused.


    She reached up to secure the chain for extra security. Just in case, she thought. It brought her comfort even if it didn¡¯t actually protect her.


    With these musings, she went back to her room. A blurred motion disturbed the shadows near her window. She squinted in the dark as it took shape, it began to look like, like a¡­


    She cocked her head, first to the left then to the right before the silhouette materialized.


    Like a person.


    Her sudden gasp was cut short. The shadow came forward and all she remembered seeing was the blurred sight of a hand coming from the darkness, a sharp pain in her neck and the darkness swallowing her consciousness as her eyelids fluttered shut.


    ***


    ¡°Wake up.¡±


    The command broke through the cloud of her dreaming, the voice sounded distorted in this foggy state. Her arms were bound. She moved her mouth behind the tape, squinting slightly. Her eyes roamed her surroundings, she was in the middle of her living room.


    Someone must have turned on all the lights in the apartment because everywhere she looked she was blinded by them. Mr. Kidnapper was definitely going to cover her electric bill this month.


    She leaned forward and the hardwood of what felt like the shape of a chair pressed against her back and the sides of her restrained arms. It seemed that a rope tied her to it. She cursed inwardly, no cushion. She cocked her head, leaning her ear outward, watching for movement.


    Without registering it fully, she recognized this scent. It had been all over her apartment the day Simon died and it was also her late night intruder.


    There was no denying it. The killer had found her. She was now in his captivity in her own home. He was going to kill her. That voice from earlier didn''t trigger any recognition in her, but he was who she had been looking for and who had been, more specifically, looking for her.


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    She swallowed hard. This was some scary shit. She didn''t want to face a killer. As much as she had been searching this murderer down, she hadn''t prepared for what she would do when he''d found her or even if she had found him.


    She instinctively flinched, her spine going ramrod straight.


    ¡°Ow!¡± She shook her hand, her claws had cut her palm. The cut throbbed and a wet trail dripped from her finger. She made a fist to stop the bleeding. Biting her lip, she grappled with her panic. Were werewolves cannibalistic? She prayed they weren¡¯t.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill your friend.¡± The voice was male. The killer was a man. Great, she could totally overpower a fully grown male wolf. Sureeee, she can. The sarcasm in her thoughts didn''t calm her nerves in the slightest.


    ¡°O-oh yeah?¡± she stammered. What a liar. Her chest heaved as her breathing quickened.


    ¡°No, I was only here to steal papers from you, papers that I later found can cure the sickness plaguing our kind.¡±


    ¡°What are you blabbering about? Quit hiding and release me, you psychopath.¡± Jackie threw herself where she heard his voice, tears rimming her eyes. ¡°You coward!¡±


    ¡°My queen, I need your help. The kingdom is in trouble.¡±


    Her eyes turned as wide as the moon. Queen? Did he mean her? The killer was calling her his queen? What?


    A crinkling noise came shortly after he continued speaking from wherever he hid, her eyes scanned for a hand or extended leg.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your friend¡¯s killer, but I did steal your research. The king sent me with an order to protect you and our kind. This was before lunacy consumed his mind.¡±


    Her eyes swept over one end of the room to the other. Lowering her chin, she asked, ¡°What is lunacy and what does that have to do with me?¡±


    He choked a bit before speaking, ¡°Lunacy devours the mind. Our previous king seemed to have been born with it, it hasn¡¯t been confirmed yet however I suspect it¡¯s hereditary. If so, there¡¯s a possibility I might have it. There has been nothing that points to specific triggers. I haven¡¯t been near the ones who have it for long enough to notice anything like that.¡±


    ¡°Okay, a mad king. Totally original and believable. I''d give you a small and slow clap if my hands weren''t tied.¡± Whatever was holding her to the chair was not rope. She could easily tear through most materials, but she was having a difficult time breaking through this one. She didn''t know what she would do if she managed to break free. Her teeth chattered, she couldn¡¯t stop her body from shaking. What could she even do after these restraints were removed? Tremble at his feet?


    ¡°I need your help,¡± he said, picking up the conversation she had lost track of. She tried to push the image of him overpowering her from her mind; grotesque imaginings of her fate if she didn''t calm down.


    She gasped as the killer¡¯s head emerged from behind the kitchen wall before he traipsed into the living room.


    The daisy detective! She gaped at him. Without even knowing it, Riley had delivered her to the grim reaper himself. Jackie always knew that woman was capable of something this catastrophic. Simon¡¯s killer stood right in front of her and all she could do was gape at him from her bound position. What the actual fuck? She took in the duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, the slightly oversized sweater he wore. She watched as he rolled up the sleeves, shoved his hands in his baggy jeans pocket and pulled out crumpled papers in one hand.


    From this distance, she could make out the title, Lycanae¡­that¡¯s my research. She leaned back and narrowed her eyes up at him, trying her best to look unconvinced. He could show her all the papers he wanted and still that wouldn¡¯t mean he was innocent.


    Great so her friend¡¯s killer wanted her help. There was no way she could. He was a murderer. Even so, he hadn¡¯t killed her yet which meant she had some time before she confronted him with the intent to kill. He wanted her research. He needed her and that gave her the upper hand, she held the control and he offered her the chance to cross the boundary at no cost.


    From the look in this wolf¡¯s eyes, he was ready to travel as soon as possible even if that was right now.


    Pursing her lips, she turned her gaze from his pleading eyes. She could always kill him after they crossed. Based off the size of him and the fact that he was a werewolf, she wasn¡¯t sure she could defeat him but she would still try.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go.¡±


    He nodded his head, the tension around his eyes eased, and it made him look a bit younger than even her.


    Her eyes stayed on the clock as seconds passed, minutes flying by before she got bored and eventually returned her gaze to Detective Wilde. She rocked back and forth, and back and forth. There was no calming the rage inside her, there was no disguising her emotions. Her pain and anger. Jackie hooked a finger around the rope binding her chest.


    ¡°So?¡±


    His head whipped towards her. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to untie me or¡­?¡±


    He walked closer and loosened the ropes around her. She thrust her forehead toward his. That didn¡¯t work, her head just lolled. She made for a punch, but her arms flailed at her sides. They were useless noodles that grew heavier with each passing minute. She narrowed her eyes at the pleased smirk on his lips. ¡°You asshole! What did you do?! Why. Can¡¯t. I. Punch. You?!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my job not to trust people. I figured you would try something like this. Don¡¯t you worry. Your strength will return in an hour or so.¡±

 Chapter 6: Two Kinds of Killers, and a Crossing

    Blue-flamed torches outlined a gravel path. Jackie followed its trail as it wound like a river up to and around a centered stone statue of a howling wolf with its chest protruding outward¡ªwith closed eyes, his head aimed toward the heavens.


    She circled the monument, her fingers trailing the paws of the immortalized wolf. The script on the stone epithet plucked at a distant memory of hers. A language, some foreign tongue that didn¡¯t look so foreign. These characters, she had seen them before. She moved her bag¡¯s strap to her other shoulder, dug for her journal.


    ¡°Our¡­destiny is not seen, it is¡­ what does this word mean?¡± Jackie struggled to read the last word, thumping her pen onto the journal. She moved a bit closer and traced over the hollowed letters, then once more as she searched her memory for its meaning.


    ¡°The word you¡¯re looking for is heard.¡± Caleb said, startling her from her fugue. Their eyes connected; his held a question. ¡°You understand my language?¡±


    She spoke the words hesitantly aloud, the syllable gliding smoothly over her tongue with familiarity and comfort that she wasn¡¯t aware of. These words made her feel empowered, almost as if she were working a spell of some sorts. ¡°How beautiful.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess that answers my question. How do you know what this says?¡±


    ¡°Growing up, my mother taught me the basics, she stopped when I became a preteen. She says it was because there was a fire in my eye and she didn¡¯t like that. She wanted me to live comfortably on Earth and not like an outsider. She and my father tried to speak the language less and less when I was around. The more they tried to keep it away the more I fought for it to stay alive and real.¡± He listened and nodded along. ¡°I probably have an elementary level understanding, but I can at least understand this much and that makes me happy.¡±


    ¡°You say that while speaking with this much fluency?¡±


    Jackie¡¯s hand raised to cover her mouth.


    ¡°What?¡± She asked, her voice breathless. Again, she spoke in the foreign language of her childhood, the language of her ancestors.


    Letting that settle into her mind, Caleb walked further ahead, leaving her behind. They needed to find the barrier. She also hoped they weren¡¯t intruding, although she suspected they were. The further they got from the statue, the more that became evident. The well-trimmed grass, the elegant gate surrounding a cottage showed signs of life and regular maintenance. Awe-struck, she took in the witchy-looking cottage.


    When they approached the door, she expected Caleb to knock instead, he stepped back and motioned Jackie toward the door. She gave a tentative knock while shooting him a wary look. Why did she have to knock? He walked in a natural and habitual way like he¡¯d done this plenty times before, so of course; she had expected him to be the one to knock. She raised her fist to knock again when she heard a ¡°Coming!¡± from within.


    The owner opened the door a crack, whispering, ¡°Yes?¡± Green eyes peered up at Jackie. ¡°Oh,¡± uttered the feminine voice. The door flew open revealing a plump woman with an apron around her waist¡ªpockets stuffed with garden tools and kitchenware¡ªthe mash-up didn¡¯t complement each other. ¡°Welcome to my garden, travelers. I am Madeline. It is nice to make your acquaintance.¡±


    The woman¡¯s speech struck her as odd and a bit old, so much so that Jackie wanted to drop down and offer her a curtsy.


    ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Jackie, it¡¯s nice to meet you.¡± Deciding not to curtsy, but to offer her hand instead. Madeline accepted her politeness and shook her hand.


    Looking to her left, Madeline said, ¡°Hello again, Caleb. What causes you to hide? Come out.¡±


    ¡°My lady Madeline, is this the welcome you give to an Alpha? Welcome, travelers? You act so unfriendly. It worsens each visit.¡±


    ¡°I will have you know, Caleb. I am a faerie and one blessed by your Moon Goddess to protect the boundary. As much as that hurts your pride, you will respect me. Your kind¡¯s customs don¡¯t affect and nor will they ever.¡± Her mention of customs peeked Jackie¡¯s interest. Even more interesting she wondered what a faerie was. She decided to save her questions for later. She found Madeline to be trustworthy because of how hostile she took to Caleb, her friend¡¯s killer.


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    ¡°Oh silly me, let me get that kettle running for you, sweetie. Come, make yourself at home.¡± Madeline motioned them inside one last time leaving the door cracked as she left the invitation at that. Caleb was the first to push the door open, he grabbed Jackie¡¯s wrist and walked inside.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a good idea to linger here,¡± His low voice pulled her from her jumbled thoughts.


    ¡°Why are we here?¡±


    ¡°Think of it as paying our respects.¡± He eyed the hall with suspicion before continuing in a whisper, ¡°Madeline is the guardian of the portal without her approval she¡¯s likely to shoot you right between the eyes before you reach the barrier.¡±


    Jackie swallowed hard. He could have warned her of all this before they had gotten here. Now she understood why it was so hard to find the barrier. What was the ratio between the people who died from crossing and the ones who were shot by Madeline just for being disrespectful? On some level, she acknowledged the possible differences of moral opinion them both¡ªbeing that killing was wrong¡ªbut the enemy of her enemy was her friend so she blocked out the fact that Madeline was also a killer. She still thought of Madeline as a possible companion. Madeline was also the first supernatural she had met and Caleb acted really cautious and scared when she was around. He¡¯d even had her knock on the door. Madeline held a power Jackie didn¡¯t have. It would be wise to stay on her good side.


    ***


    ¡°How bad would it be to cross the boundary without these?¡± Jackie held out the golden armbands toward Madeline.


    ¡°This bracelet? You are blessed to have them in your possession.¡± She said sweetly, blowing the steaming teacup she cradled in her hands. ¡°It¡¯s a token offered to me for a passage across. I won¡¯t be your guide, but you gain my favor, having one with you.¡±


    ***


    The mirror-like reflection of the boundary stood in front of them. There was a tugging feeling in Jackie¡¯s mind as if she had been there before. She felt as though she was looking through a portal into another world and that was sort of what she was doing. This was the moment she had been waiting for, she had wanted to know what was over that boundary so bad and now was her chance to finally pass through.


    Despite the mental bells going off, she moved forward. A soft hum echoed in her ears and drowned out the noise in her vicinity. The sound lulled her forward. Her feet moving of their own volition. A smile found its way to her face, stretching her cheeks. Her breathing turned shallow. Her heartbeat sped up. A little faster. Then faster still. This was it. This was the moment.


    She reached her hand out to feel the barrier that had enchanted her dreams, the very thing that brought her to this moment. She reached her hands out toward the rippling and felt an energetic pulse pulling her closer and closer into itself. She was a few feet away when ice cold hands wrenched hers back. A weird sensation passed through her, fleeing when the freezing hands covered her ears.


    At first, a white noise rang out and her mouth opened as she threw her head back and forth, hoping to get the invader to unhand her. She didn¡¯t want to be freed from that sound.


    ¡°No! Bring it back,¡± she pleaded.


    Those persistent hands pulled her head down into their chest, the comforting warmth that ensued was enough to pacify her for the moment. The motherly embrace kept her senses intact, what was her mother doing? If she had known where Jackie was, maybe her mother would worry about her.


    Calm down, Jay. It¡¯s me. It¡¯s me. Riley¡¯s voice broke through the ringing.


    Jackie pulled back from the hug, only to find nothing. Riley hadn¡¯t been holding her. In fact, nothing had been holding her. She tried not to panic at that revelation. Why had she thought Riley was here? She had heard her¡­but that voice hadn¡¯t come from a source outside of her; it came from within. Telepathy? She was still alone with a killer wolf, going on a sympathetic hero¡¯s journey to save his mom. She wondered how ridiculous that would sound had she said it out loud.


    A distorted shout drew her attention over her shoulder. Caleb¡¯s gesticulating made her giggle a bit. His eyes looked like they would soon pop out of his head. Whatever he was saying were garbled and indiscernible. She shook her head while pointing toward her ears. She couldn''t hear a thing he said.


    A cawing sound came from above her head, she looked up at the night sky in wonder. She glanced back at her world and its bright green sky high above. She sucked in a large gust of air before breathing out from her mouth. Her muscles relaxed as she did so. With outstretched arms, she spun around in glee.


    ¡°Duck, woman!¡±


    The fear-stricken yell burst her bubble of joy. She dropped to the ground in fright, instinctively reacting to the shout. Out of curiosity, she rolled onto her back. And wow...


    What looked like giant cockroaches with wings swooped down from above. Jackie fought the urge to squirm when its spiky legs got close to her. In a strange union, the insects squawked as they flew by.


    She had made it to this strange new world. Another sensation overcame her. Her sight went dark. When her vision came back, she was in the middle of a rural area with huts.


    Welcome home. Save my warriors.

 Chapter 7: King & the Moon Goddess

    Grahaam tossed and turned in his sleep, his skin feeling like it was being peeled from him. He yowled at the stinging sensation spreading over his forehead which caused him to shoot up rocket-style in his bed. This only happened when intruders crossed the boundary.


    When he was born, his countrymen believed the Moon Goddess blessed him with the gift to form a union with the boundary. For that, he became much like the Goddess herself, but other. He had a wrongness; a thirst for blood, a hunger for corruption. He wasn¡¯t sure if it would consume him, or he, it.


    He growled low. ¡°I thought I told Caleb to make sure there were no more crossings.¡± Now his head won¡¯t stop throbbing because of it. He would be expecting Caleb¡¯s report in a week¡¯s time. What could possibly be the reason why he hadn¡¯t tightened the security protocols like he had ordered him?


    You are protected, my son. You are loved by all who look upon your face. The voice sounded like his mother¡¯s, but it was wrong, wrong¡ª


    ¡°Wrong!¡± He shouted to the ceiling of his chambers, twisting around in his bed. The voice would find him and command him. Tell him to do this and not forget that.


    Now that he was in pain, it sent words of comfort through his mind. It had control over his heart and chose how it wanted to manipulate him.


    This entity, this Goddess reveled over this while she stripped away whoever he was meant to be, corroding him down with rage.


    His Grand Alphas who¡¯d hoped he¡¯d become like his father, now feared him like they had his father. They cowered whenever summoned and kept quiet in his presence unless commanded to speak. He guessed he¡¯d killed enough of them.


    More pangs pulsated through his body, wrenching a howl from his lips. He stood, clawing his wallpaper as he lumbered in the direction of the bathroom, his pained body collapsing as he reached for the golden door-handle. He lost strength in his legs.


    ¡°Madeline, you slack. How many did you let slip past your notice.¡± If only he had assigned Caleb to the guardian post, he wouldn¡¯t be having this problem. However, that was another decision that wasn¡¯t his to make.


    The Moon Goddess decided who would become her next guardian. He had assigned Caleb to regulate the unruly werewolves who¡¯d escaped to the human realm for two reasons. One, he trusted him. Two, Grahaam knew that Caleb would be a substitute ruler for the wolves there. Since childhood, he¡¯d seen how well the wolf had reinforced the king¡¯s authority whether he had been present or not.


    As much as responsibility he put on Caleb, he suffered from just as much of not more. The Alpha predator was killing more and more Grand Alphas which did nothing more than bring those worthless beings to his castle, begging for his interference. There was also Caleb¡¯s latest visit that he had been considering.


    His mate, that forsaken woman had expressed interest in this world since she was a child and he had hoped that interest would not lead her to him, except Caleb warned him that it did. With all these things pressing down on him, his headache worsened. He really couldn¡¯t get a moment¡¯s rest.


    What a good boy you have become. How strong and brave is my son. The voice, a mock version of his mother¡¯s, returned to his mind and he wished he had something to throw.


    ¡°What do you want, you blasted Goddess?!¡± His bellowing question was followed by rushing footsteps from all over the sleeping palace, making him groan. He didn¡¯t want company. He had wanted to sleep, but his bond to the Goddess woke him. She warned him of the trespassers by giving him body aches. He still hadn¡¯t figured out what he was meant to do about it. He was a king, not her guardian, not her toy to play with as she pleases yet still, she does.


    Tentative knocking resounded in his silent bedchamber. Through the throbbing aches, he got up from the floor and marched toward it, ripping the door open. He bared his teeth at his unwanted guest. It was bad enough to have a voice in his head that came in and out whenever it wanted and now he had to deal with his own people disturbing his quiet.


    ¡°What?!¡± he asked the quivering butler, his Beta status the only thing keeping him alive. His mother had taught him better than to bully the weak.


    ¡°My king, this Beta has brought your Majesty tea to aid your night terrors. If your Majesty would remember, I am Philip. The one who accompanies you on nights like this.¡±


    The king gave the older wolf a once-over. His ash brown hair was balding in the middle, his greying sideburns indistinguishable from the connecting mustache and beard were the only hair on his face that remained. The steadying, compassionate gaze the man offered him reminded Grahaam of the way his people had once looked at him when he was a pup. How genuine those looks appeared in his adolescence. His clothing was a plain butler¡¯s outfit; a long sleeved white collar button-up, black wrinkle-free vest and matching trousers. His tattered brown court shoes being the only thing tugging at the monarch¡¯s memory. King Grahaam pulled his cream-coloured silk robe closed and walked back into his chamber taking a seat on his bed.


    ¡°Remind me what you do again, Philip.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course, your Majesty.¡± The tiny man walked to the vinyl player in the far side of the chamber with ample fluidity, after a brief look at his collection, he gave an ¡°ah-ha!¡± and retrieved the record he sought and put it on, placing the needle with ease. The soothing instrumental chimes of the piano encompassed the space and in a moment or two, his pain went away enough for the king to melt into his mattress.


    ¡°Tonight, his Majesty shall travel into your memory for the time when he felt at home. A time when he wanted to learn more about the world and his identity. You can take your time retrieving the memory, my liege.¡± Philip¡¯s voice was patient and spoken in time with the calming melodies already working its magic on the king.


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    ¡°I don¡¯t think I have any such memories, good Philip.¡± He said, his voice slightly grumpy.


    ¡°You do. Your Majesty must. There was a time before you were king. A time when you were just a pup and filled with vigour. I remember hearing the stories of the brave, young Eli taking so well to his mother¡¯s teachings. The queen was such a gracious creature. Nothing like your father¡­she would keep you close to her.¡±


    At the mention of his mother and childhood name, his mood soured. ¡°Was I not a hybrid freak in the eyes of my pack? The hybrid who knew nothing of customs nor had anything to say of value. My father¡¯s men were quick to strike my every opinion down and call me submissive, too partial to Betas. There was nothing Alpha about me, I didn¡¯t belong.¡±


    ¡°No, my king.¡± There was something about the way he said ¡®King¡¯ that pulled his lost memories to the forefront of his mind even more. He thought of his mother, tried to recall her voice. How she loved to call him her prince. The prince, sent by the gods to save her from his father, to save everyone from that tyrant¡¯s reign. Mom, how I miss you.


    I am here, my prin¡ª


    ¡°There were plenty of us who remembered your words and held them in our hearts. You freed us from our bonds and fought our oppressors. You were¡ªare our champion. Queen Lilith would be proud.¡±


    Would she? He still remembered the disappointed look on her face when he¡¯d failed at something. He just couldn¡¯t remember what. Ah, yes, there was that one time when his mother never let him bother her during certain hours of the day. She called it her prayer time.


    That day, at the age of ten, Elias had accidentally interrupted her concentration. He expected her to scold him, instead she beckoned him closer and showed him what she had been doing. There were cards in her hands. She had placed a dark purple satin blanket on the floor which she sat upon, facing the east. She''d surmised it was an appropriate position for any reading.


    Part of her wanted to test if he was born with any faerie gifts. He would sneak around her when she prayed aloud so he was well aware of this. Sometimes she¡¯d will the gods who were hidden to show themselves.


    When he was older, she told him that she silently hoped that inviting him into her divination would conjure something inside him. Maybe the gods would be merciful for once and grant her son their protection.


    Each day he¡¯d grown older without showing signs of faerie gifts, she had become convinced the gods only gave her their grace during prayer sessions so she obsessed over them for a time.


    Those times, she would disappear on him or send him with his uncle for some lesson lacking in substance. He could admit, it had kept him distracted.


    She returned her halcyon amber gaze to him; he was smiling from ear-to-ear and slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet; she reached her hand out to smooth his raven locks but withdrew it, running it through her tresses instead.


    ¡°Well, love, aren''t you a curious one? Come closer, my dear. It''s time for you to learn how to read fate.¡± She gave him a lengthy lesson on the cards and their meaning, demonstrating how to shuffle them¡ªin what ways would make the gods pleased with him, and in what ways it would make them upset. The cards were her way of communicating with them, and it fascinated young Elias.


    She told him stories of how sometimes her dreams revealed the future, or the past. She lightly teased him for his astonished reactions and excited exclamations as she told him her connection to the gods was fueled through her cards or her bag of bones.


    Puffing out her chest, she said, ¡°I can use anything made for divination to read the fates of others and myself. I have no limitations to the information I receive. My only limitation is time. The door to my psychic powers would be closed forever if I didn¡¯t have the dreams or visions to guide me.¡±


    She shook her head at some stray thought.


    ¡°Now, my prince, you try.¡±


    She bit her lip, watching in anticipation as he scooted closer to the cards. He took a moment to stare, admiring them. They were more than just pieces of thin cardboard. They were the answers to all that he might face in life, or give insight into a past that she was familiar with, a past she witnessed as he grew from a baby to a young boy.


    Unaware of his mother''s growing impatience, he grabbed the cards from the table. He shuffled the large stack that could barely fit in his smaller hands around. As hard as he could he tried to imitate what he had just been taught, being careful with his method.


    His eyes darted to his mother when he''d finished, unsure of what came next or if he''d done something wrong. She almost lunged toward the cards. After she had them in her palms, she took a breath to regain her composure. She gently flipped over the first three cards, lying them next to one another. She ran her eyes over them in haste. Her expression became drained of emotion. She looked disappointed. Elias inwardly berated himself. He knew he''d done it wrong. He''d been trying to follow his mother''s movements exactly, but it was hard and he had no skills at shuffling. It seemed simple, but he couldn¡¯t say with confidence he''d done it as elegant and deft as his mother had. She closed her eyes. After some time, they opened to look into his own.


    She gave him a small smile.


    ¡°My son, the gods have blessed you with a mate and she is very special.¡±


    It was the first opinion of his mother¡¯s he grew to despise. Mates, they didn¡¯t exist.


    His lovely mother, a queen by right. When she was around, the burden of the crown evaporated from his mind. He wasn¡¯t a hybrid prince with a weak countenance nor a prince who should never have been born. As his father had called him, a vile creature who coveted a throne that would never be his until he learned to put his foot on a Beta¡¯s neck, until he learned to kill one. As much as he detested his father, he clung stronger to his mother.


    Pulling his mind from the past and its unending rule over him, he stared up at the ceiling. The soft D sharp trickled in, breaking him from his memory, soothing his agitated nerves. Unbeknownst to him, he began to nod along to the tune.


    ¡°There be nothing against the king with my saying, you have ruled the kingdom much as it has never been seen before. This Beta doesn¡¯t intend to pry unnecessarily but what does it feel like to be bonded with our Goddess? Is it an honour?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve grown accustomed to the sound of a woman¡¯s tears; I awaken to it and am lulled to sleep by it. There is always a woman who screams in horror when it rains. She¡¯s in pain. She¡¯s alone. She¡¯s scared. I¡¯m scared for her. Her cries have a razor edge. Her pain feels too real. It feels like mine. Even worse than the torment I¡¯ve survived. She is haunted and so she haunts me. Most nights, her screams chase me to hell as her soul shatters, over and over, her screams reaching me in the form of storms inside the nightmare the thought of her sends. Other nights it¡¯s as if she belongs within broken memories, whether they are my own or hers, I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Speaking of her, brings the dreams into his mind. He can see her physique in his mind¡¯s eye. Her eyes, the colour of lapis. With tawny curls that fell gracefully to her hips, she had a statuesque beauty. An illusion; her beauty was unreal. She was a goddess and just as enchanting as you would expect. He remembered being confused and curious, thinking, Who could she be? Who do I see when the lightning strikes? Whose voice do I hear in each of its screeching clashes as it meets the moist ground?

 Chapter 8: A Heart Devourer

    Outside a neighbouring village, bored guards dragged their feet, kicking up dirt; the wooden gates to their pack standing behind them. Two did their rounds while the other four played with cards and cracked jokes. Their laughter erupted, Joslynn bent low to the forest floor, her eyes squeezed shut, a mental command ran through her mind. Fur sprouted from her hands as her fingers¡¯ bones clicked and altered their shape for paws and she fell back onto her hind legs. Her eyesight sharpened. The Alpha guards came into view, the sound of their merriment grew louder, her furry black ears perking up at the sound. Joslynn inhaled deep, wincing as a new piercing sound she couldn¡¯t distinguish but found it unsettling.


    Torture wasn''t the best background noise and it was atrocious that it had haunted her waking hours for these past few days. She was finally done scoping the strength of this new pack base.


    A midnight-coloured blur cut through her line of sight, the figure steadying as the massive wolf blocked her view of the gates. Sloanne, her second-in-command, sauntered forward until his muzzle touched her own. She squinted her eyes at the creature; she maintained eye contact long enough to connect with him. In the smoky depths of his pupils, she could make out the shape of his soul. The blue fiery smoke of it shined back at her. She opened her mind to his¡ª


    Predator of Alphas, Sloanne, son of Dashon greets you.


    May the Moon Goddess guard your heart, I am listening.


    I¡¯m done scouting. Battle preparations are ready for tonight. The time is ripe for your next orders.


    The bond momentarily meshed their minds together. It was a blessing from the moon goddess to show her favor of her race of werewolves.


    These Alphas hadn''t realised it yet, but they wouldn¡¯t live to see the next moonrise. The others she killed in the past were the same. All of them, so carefree and stupid. Baring her fangs, she stretched and prowled back to her camp in a pleasant mood. This was it.


    Frigga awaited her with a towel, and clothes cradled in her arms. She had turned twenty winters recently. This was her third year in Joslynn¡¯s pack. Her former Grand Alpha crawled on the floor and as he bled out Frigga tapped her shoulder, asking if she could join them. She cooked them meals and did their laundry to express her gratitude. Joslynn couldn''t break Frigga¡¯s habit of serving others so she made sure to help out instead.


    She¡¯d sometimes send the others to take on a large portion of Frigga¡¯s workload. Frigga wasn¡¯t here to be anyone¡¯s maid. She wasn¡¯t going to be treated like a Beta under Joslynn¡¯s watch. Betas were lower class wolves, they served Alphas and made up most of the wolf population. Their previous king exploited his father¡¯s heroism to oppress and enslave many Beta wolves.


    The Alphas were the upper class¡ªonly wolves born from certain bloodlines were allowed the respect of a Alpha. They had titles and land in the pack. Joslynn hated them for that, more so, she hated being regarded as a Beta. Each time she killed an Alpha she enjoyed their whimpers and watching them cower. The weakness they showed her was mind-boggling when she first started but now it became addictive. She had soon gained a pack from the Alphaless Betas who didn¡¯t know what to do. Her pack was different, they weren¡¯t forced to obey because lineage or customs demanded it to be so. As their leader, she had proven herself worthy of her position.


    ¡°Jos, are there many of them?¡± Frigga asked.


    Six per entrance, Joslynn answered, sending the thought through the pack bond.


    Then Joslynn entered her tent, once inside, the pin-needle feeling came over her as she transformed, becoming a human again. She took her time dressing and released a soft whistle.


    The guys began filing in. Ogarr and Ty, stoic as always, were the last to walk in. They headed to the back of the tent and the pair laid down by her cot.


    Harry plopped down across from her, Sloanne took a space to her right and Ronan settled in on her left. They were smushed together around her small wooden circular table.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go gather some firewood, please excuse me.¡± Frigga cast her a worried look before pulling back the flap and walking outside. Through the slit, the rebel leader kept her eyes on Frigga¡¯s retreating figure until she was out of sight.


    After everyone got comfortable, Joslynn began, ¡°They¡¯ve lowered their defense. So let¡¯s go over the plans, some things have changed.¡±


    Ignoring their confused expressions, she pulled a cloth map and laid it on the table. Her eyes followed the winding black ink on the map until she found the destination she wanted to pin.


    Picking up a thumbtack, she trailed her index finger past those dumb dragon¡¯s volcanic dwelling, Stormaais.


    ¡°This is where we¡¯re heading to Varrym after we¡¯re done here.¡± she said, her finger hovering over an area near Alffatir.


    Sounds of disapproval and excitement came from the men.


    ¡°What? Why are we going there? Joslynn, it¡¯s too close to the castle. You know well enough why that¡¯s a risky trip.¡± Sloanne¡¯s words earned him a blank stare. If it hadn¡¯t been for their discussion the night before she would have fallen for his ploy.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna do this again? You came up with the idea. I''m the one who told you it was risky.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you did. But you still haven''t answered the question.¡± His voice brimmed with jesting. He jokingly bowed his head.


    The Beta leader shook her head a little with a smile on her face, Sloanne was a riddle all on his own.


    ¡°I understand the dangers. You don¡¯t have to remind me of this. That¡¯s why we aren¡¯t going inside the kingdom¡¯s walls, but close to it. We¡¯re running low on food and we need a place to lie low for a while. Varrym is the only sanctuary left for Betas to go.¡±


    ¡°How do you even know that?¡± he asked.


    His question coaxed a laugh so loud, Jos had to clutch her stomach. After some time, she composed herself enough to answer.


    ¡°I have my sources.¡± You¡¯re the one who told me, idiot. Her smile was infectious and sugar-sweet.


    ¡°And they are reliable, yes?¡±


    She chuckled, paying him no mind while she went back to pinning tacks into the cloth.


    When Jos was done, she dusted off her hands and gestured toward the map.


    ¡°So,¡± she said, ¡°what do you think?¡±


    Sloanne stuck his entire face into the map and asked, ¡°What are we even looking at?¡± His tone was riddled with impending questions.


    Shooing him away, Jos pushed him toward the flap of the tent. She couldn''t take him seriously and she shouldn¡¯t have to put up with his stupid questions for this entire meeting otherwise they would get nowhere. It was taking too long already; the sky was growing darker. Night was charging forward, uninterrupted. Scattered chuckles came from behind her.


    ¡°Go help Frigga. Be gone, brainless.¡± Sloanne flashed her a grin as he ran off in a general direction.


    ¡°Okay, Ty and Ogarr. You two take the patrolling guards on the inside of the pack. I¡¯ll need Ronan to handle the Betas. Offer them comfort or help, whatever is needed. Check the basements for captives. Harry¡­¡± Jos met his eager stare. ¡°You can cover the front and back entrances with Sloanne. I will go after the Alpha.¡±


    ¡°As expected from you, Alpha predator,¡± Harry said. His humorous tone was grating on her nerves today. It was too soon after he interrupted her kill of that last Grand Alpha. The one who sold newborn Beta pups. She growled at the memory. There were a lot of horrors she couldn¡¯t undo, no matter how many Alphas she killed. It didn¡¯t change the fact that Harry stole that kill from her and if he was anyone else, he would be dead. But Jos liked Harry. He was a lot like her. He was familiar with a certain amount of darkness and they had that in common. She summoned that part of herself to the surface often with seldom regrets.


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    Joslynn tried to read their expressions, searching for any signs of anxiety. Ogarr and his brother, Ty laid flat on their backs. Their eyes fixed on the ceiling of our tent. They were both tossing yarn into the air while the other caught it. Their game repeated and became hypnotic. Joslynn barely managed to tear her gaze away. Those two were fine, she didn¡¯t expect much nerves coming from them. Harry flashed her a ravenous smile. He was definitely thinking about blood and guts, for sure. Coming as no surprise to her, Ronan¡¯s eyes were the only ones that shifted. Jos sighed.


    ¡°Come here.¡± With a firm hand on Ronan¡¯s shoulder, she said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Someone needs to look after Frigga, she can¡¯t hold down the camp alone.¡±


    ¡°B-but you promised, I¡¯d join this time.¡± He thrust his chest out with a small smile, and said, ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    She nodded, the sliver of determination in his eyes convincing her. It would be enough to get his claws red, when he sunk them into a Alpha¡¯s eyes for the first time and that adrenaline rush consumed him. The realisation that they were just like him. That belief of strong Alphas and weak Betas would dismantle in his mind. Jos wanted to be there when that worldview alteration occurred to him, but she¡¯d be busy with this pack¡¯s leader.


    ¡°Alright, boys,¡±¡ªclapping her hands¡ª¡±Let¡¯s hunt some Alphas.¡± Ty and Ogarr took a long look at the map before leaving the tent behind the others. Frigga¡¯s tired face greeted them on their way out. Jos walked over to her, taking the pot from her hands. ¡°How is the hunt for food? Did you and Sloanne find anything?¡±


    Frigga¡¯s tight smile excused her from answering. Joslynn cursed. We had to end this hunt now. A couple rabbits would do just fine for the seven of them, she hoped they found something edible soon. They were all tired and hungry. Their water supply was running low. Jos ran her fingers through her tawny auburn hair and gripped their strands.


    ¡°So who¡¯s next on the list?¡± Sloanne asked, rubbing his beard.


    Schooling her features, Jos dropped her arms to her side and entertained him.


    ¡°This slimy fat bastard, Walter Fleming. He used to work in the castle under the duke. He de-fangs his wolves and he''s commonly known to massacre them, young or old. Only to request new imports from the king.¡± She gestured for Ronan to pass the binoculars that were on a table behind him¡ªhanding them to Sloanne.


    He growled.


    ¡°I could shoot him now.¡± He pulled his sniper up and tracked the Alpha¡¯s movement. Joslynn laughed and took it from him, causing him to lift his head and meet her gaze.


    ¡°We don''t need to rush. I want to see him face-to-face.¡±


    It¡¯s been days since she¡¯d gotten a wink of sleep, their hunting spirits becoming impatient, insatiable and starved. It bled into the pack bond that linked them. The only one who didn¡¯t seem agitated by any of this was Harry. A smile was glued to his face as he jabbed punches and kicks in the front of the guys¡¯ faces. His false blows didn''t land. The only one to flinch was Ronan. Harry changed his target to inanimate objects when he accidentally tried to do this near Sloanne. Sloanne almost knocked his head clean off. Both warriors were agile and strong. She tried imagining them in a serious battle. Joslynn tilted her head. Sloanne¡­? Harry¡­? She shrugged. They¡¯d both lose against her and that was really all that mattered. Harry was now bouncing up and down, making circles around a nearby tree. Before he could smash his fist through the trunk, she called out to him.


    He gave his leader a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. ¡°Sorry, Jos. The nerves are getting to me.¡± He was practically ready to start the raid now. He really needed to chill. She contemplated whether she should knock him out and wake him when it was time. It was nearly night, so that wasn¡¯t an option. Frigga approached Jos from behind, her arms filled with a stack of firewood. Placing them down beside her, Frigga sat on a small stool made of pine wood and grabbed her half-knitted sweater.


    ¡°Preparing for winter already?¡± Jos asked.


    ¡°Yeah. I hope this is the last time we go hunting. We don''t have enough to keep going. We have to return home. This is getting us nowhere.¡±


    She was right but¡­


    ¡°One last kill,¡± she promised.


    Jos lifted her hand in the air, making the sign of war. They surrounded her in the blink of an eye. Frigga gathered her hair and tied it in a simple ponytail. Jos turned back, and they were in position, waiting for her command. She sprayed the Nyme elixir she¡¯d swiped from the last Grand Alpha¡¯s home, it would cloak their scent. They all put on masks as Sloanne and Harry ran ahead, tossing noxious gas bombs at the front gates. Within the smoke, Harry wielded his sword and sliced three heads off. Now that''s a way to start a riot. Joslynn smiled as she ran inside the gate alongside Sloanne. Ty and Ogarr had branched off toward the side entrances, dragging Ronan with them as well. Entering, she frowned at what she saw. Junk crowded the pathway. There were wolves living outside.


    The cabins didn''t look any better. Their doors were open and hanging off their hinges. The insides were empty aside for more junk. Dilapidated. Most homes they passed didn''t have roofs. The wolves walked the streets. A couple of teen wolves were hanging out against a gate, chatting. No canines in their mouths. They looked skinny and malnourished, their weary eyes tracking their movement. They shrank under their gaze. There was no other explanation for this.


    Anger boiled inside her.


    I can see a big house ahead. It looks clean. Sloanne''s thoughts entered her head. Jos nodded and ran ahead. It was the Grand Alpha¡¯s home, a green two-story mansion, well-kept with white flower boxes under windows. His door had a bronze knocker. His porch was swept and had two rocking chairs on each side. She walked up the steps and kicked in the beautifully-crafted door. Startled noises came from within. When Jos crossed the foyer, there were some fumbling sounds from above. She gave a sarcastic laugh as she took in the couches, coffee tables. There were lamps. Someone was cooking in the kitchen. Another wolf straightened the couch pillows, pausing in his duty, he noticed her. ¡°Who are you to disrupt the Grand Alpha?¡± he asked, his voice quivering. A brave one.


    ¡°Go home. All of you!¡± Jos shouted, injecting power into her voice. The wolves scattered.


    Thundering and rapid steps descended the stairs accompanied by a high-pitched voice.


    ¡°Stanley! I told you no one is to disturb my afternoon nap. Were those orders not clear?¡± His massive body emerged and his eyes widening when they fell on hers.


    ¡°Who are you? Are you a new Beta? I''ve never seen you before. Where is Stanley?¡±


    He squinted at her. ¡°Are those fangs I see?¡± he asked.


    Not responding, she walked to the kitchen and grabbed the pot that was still brewing on the stove. There was soup inside. Jos picked up the pot and walked back out.


    ¡°Oh, is it supper time, already? I''ll excuse your insolence this time. You seem new.¡±


    She sloshed the liquid on his face.


    He screamed in horror, holding his burning face in his hands.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a member of your pack.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he asked, incredulous. The flesh was already beginning to heal. ¡°You''re killing my guards. I can feel their presence fading from my mind. Their screams are all cut short. I thought it was those blasted Betas, but you''re good. You really killed my men. Do you know how hard it took to get Alpha soldiers as guards?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± The Alpha charged toward her at a slower pace than Jos was used to. His weight must have been bearing down on him. She smacked him with the pot when he was finally in range. This was fun and easier than she¡¯d imagined.


    ¡°A bastard like you doesn''t deserve to live! You de-fanged your Beta servants while calling yourself their superior! Is this the way your king should rule his kingdom? Is this the way he should handle a vermin like you?¡±


    ¡°How dare you speak of our king that way! Who gives you the authority to utter these words? Our king would never. He protects his Alphas because we are stronger, dominant and more efficient than you Betas could ever dream of being,¡± the Alpha said, ¡°Your hands are covered with the blood of my brothers. I heard of you. You''re the Alpha predator. You and your pack are worthless Betas. It¡¯s a surprise no one has wiped you all out.¡±


    She opened her mouth to retort but his hands were shaking and his voice had cracked. For such a proud and ¡®strong¡¯ Alpha, he sure had weak nerves. She grabbed his thick throat. His inhales became sharp and desperate.


    ¡°These worthless Betas will bring an end to you and your tyrant king. I will make sure of it. You are not stronger than me.¡± Crushing his windpipe, she watched him choke as saliva dripped from his gaping mouth. Jos savored the look of surprise and anguish on his visage. ¡°I will personally resign every last one of you ¡®Grand Alphas'' and then your beloved king is mine to kill.¡± She punched her fist through his chest and yanked out his heart. It pulsed in her hand once before stopping altogether. Joslynn stared at the bloody organ for a moment, before biting into its flesh. She devoured the Alpha''s heart. His power didn''t consume me immediately. It was just a drop compared to the strength she gained from eating the other Alphas¡¯s hearts before him. But how was a man like this able to enslave so many?


    Sloanne appeared. Jos raised her head before returning to lick her hands, she kicked the dead body of her recent kill. Should she shred his body up or leave it for the Betas he spent his existence terrorising? Her mind wasn¡¯t yet made up when Sloanne walked over to her and sat down, pulling her hands from her mouth. Jos snapped her head toward him. Slo¡­Sloanne? ¡°What?¡± she asked.


    He shook his head and peered deeply into her eyes.


    ¡°Are you okay? How do you feel?¡± he asked.


    Jos tilted her head at him, confused as to who spoke to her. Her thoughts flickered in and out of her head, but mostly, none came. Her mind was blank. Nothing coherent shook her back to conscious thinking until Ronan came running inside, his panting breaths stealing her attention. He crashed into the couch, tumbled over it before falling in front of where Sloanne and she sat. He was such a klutz. The thought came to her with ease. Energy was buzzing off of him, his excitement palpable and a prideful smirk unmistakably stamped on his face. What was prideful about that fall just now?


    ¡°I killed one of those Alpha bastards.¡±


    She gave him a sardonic smirk.


    ¡°You? You killed someone.¡± Jos looked over at Sloanne who laughed.


    ¡°Yeah, I bit his fucking head off.¡±


    Ty and Ogarr walked up behind him.


    Ty came over and gave Ronan a comforting pat on his back.


    ¡°It''s okay, kid.¡±


    ¡°No wonder, I only killed five,¡± Ogarr said faintly.


    You don''t have to stick up for him, she sent the thought to Ogarr. She hadn¡¯t intended to bully him so Ogarr¡¯s comment was unnecessary.


    Jos walked over to Ronan and put her hands on his shoulders. ¡°Even if you didn''t kill anyone, I''d still let you join the hunts.¡±