Chapter 6 — The Wild Ones
1570 Words
The forest was alive with the sounds of tearing flesh.
Five wolves surrounded the carcass of a deer, their shoulders hunched and teeth flashing in the pale moonlight. The animal had not stood a chance. Its body lay torn open on the damp ground, steam rising from the warm meat into the cool night air.
One wolf growled as another tried to pull away a larger piece of the rib cage. Their shoulders slammed together, claws scraping against bone.
Hunger made wolves impatient.
Hunger made them dangerous.
Not far from the carcass, sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, a man dressed entirely in black watched the scene quietly.
He held a long hunting knife in his hand.
Slowly, methodically, he dragged the blade across a whetstone.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
The sharp metallic sound cut through the forest like a whisper of steel.
Unlike the others, he did not rush toward the carcass.
He waited.
He knew they would bring him his share.
The man’s dark eyes moved across the forest around them. Tall trees surrounded the clearing, their branches forming a tangled roof above their heads. The moonlight filtered through the leaves in silver stripes across the ground.
They were deep inside the territory of Alpha Elliot Tate.
At least they should not have been here.
Normally any rogue wolf entering pack territory would be hunted down immediately.
But things had changed recently.
Elliot’s patrols had grown weaker.
And the wolves guarding the borders had grown careless.
All because of one person.
Kevin Tate.
The Alpha’s son.
The young heir had little interest in discipline or responsibility. He preferred drinking, fighting, and showing off his power in front of weaker wolves.
Patrol routes had become irregular.
Hunters left gaps in their watch.
And wolves like these noticed such things very quickly.
The man in black sharpened the knife one last time before testing its edge with his thumb.
Perfect.
Footsteps approached through the leaves behind him.
Another man stepped out of the darkness.
He carried a heavy piece of the deer’s hind leg in both hands.
Blood dripped slowly from the torn muscle onto the forest floor.
The man extended the meat toward the one in black without speaking.
The leader took it calmly.
Then he sank his teeth into the raw flesh with a low growl.
Warm blood ran down his fingers.
The taste was sharp and wild.
For several seconds neither man spoke.
They simply watched the others eating.
Five wolves.
Five survivors.
Once there had been more.
But the forest had claimed the rest.
Or the packs had.
The second man finally sat beside him on the fallen tree trunk.
“This is the first real meal we’ve had in days.”
The man in black continued chewing.
“Yes.”
The others were still fighting over the remaining meat. One of them dragged the deer’s head away from the group to gnaw at the neck.
Another wolf crouched low over the ribs like a starving animal guarding a treasure.
The second man watched them with tired eyes.
“We cannot live like this forever.”
The leader swallowed another mouthful of meat before answering.
“We have lived like this for ten years.”
“That does not mean it must continue.”
The man in black said nothing.
Instead he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.
Carefully he wiped the blood from his mouth and chin.
Even after years in the wild, some habits never disappeared.
The second man studied him carefully.
“Elliot is becoming careless.”
The leader shook his head slightly.
“Not Elliot.”
He folded the cloth again and placed it back in his pocket.
“His son.”
Kevin Tate.
The name hung in the air between them.
The second man nodded slowly.
“I saw his patrol today.”
“And?”
“They were drinking.”
The man in black allowed himself a small smile.
“Exactly.”
He glanced toward the others again.
“Kevin believes strength means never fearing consequences.”
“And you think that weakness will destroy the pack?”
“No.”
The leader took another bite of meat.
“I think it will create opportunities.”
The second man leaned forward slightly.
“Opportunities for what?”
The man in black did not answer immediately.
Instead he studied the moon above the forest.
After a moment he spoke quietly.
“Revenge.”
The second man’s jaw tightened.
“When?”
“When the time is right.”
“For ten years you have said that.”
The leader’s eyes slowly turned toward him.
“And for ten years you have followed me.”
The second man lowered his gaze.
That was true.
Ten years ago they had been warriors.
Pack wolves.
Men with homes, families, territory.
Then everything had collapsed.
The leader tore another piece of meat from the bone.
Finally the second man spoke again.
“When are you going to take revenge for what they did to us?”
The leader did not look at him.
Instead he spoke calmly.
“If your wife had not betrayed us…”
The second man froze.
“…none of this would have happened.”
Silence spread between them.
The wolves behind them continued eating.
The second man stared at the ground.
His voice became quieter.
“The plan to overthrow Elliot was foolish.”
The leader laughed softly.
A cold sound.
“No.”
He turned his head slowly.
“The plan was good.”
“What failed then?”
“Trust.”
The leader stood up slowly.
Moonlight reflected in his eyes.
“Trusting the wrong wolves.”
They had once been part of the Red Hollow Pack.
Respected warriors.
Close to the Alpha himself.
But power always attracted ambition.
And ambition created enemies.
Someone had betrayed them.
Someone had warned Elliot.
The coup had failed before it even began.
And the punishment had been swift.
Exile.
No territory.
No pack.
No protection.
The second man spoke quietly.
“There were eight of us.”
“Yes.”
“Now there are five.”
The leader looked toward the wolves eating the deer.
Five survivors.
The forest had taken the rest.
Winter had taken one.
Another had died fighting pack hunters.
Two had simply disappeared.
Such was the life of wild wolves.
Recently they had moved closer to the border between two territories.
The lands of Alpha Elliot Tate.
And the lands of Alpha Anthony Clark.
Two powerful packs.
Two very different rulers.
Hunting near Anthony Clark’s territory was nearly impossible.
His borders were guarded by veteran wolves.
Experienced hunters.
Warriors who had spent their entire lives defending the White Hunters Pack.
Even rogues respected those borders.
But Elliot’s lands…
Those were becoming easier.
Kevin Tate’s arrogance had opened gaps in the defenses.
The leader finished his meal and threw the bone aside.
Then he wiped the knife clean against the grass and slid it back into its sheath.
The others had finished eating as well.
They approached slowly.
Four men.
Scarred.
Thin.
Eyes burning with the wild look that came from living too long outside the law of packs.
Yet they still waited for him to speak.
Even now.
Even after ten years.
The leader crossed his arms.
“You are thinking about the pack again,” one of them said.
“Of course.”
Another wolf spat onto the ground.
“Elliot is weak.”
“No.”
The leader shook his head.
“Elliot is tired.”
“There is a difference.”
“Yes.”
“But tired leaders make mistakes.”
The wolves exchanged glances.
“What about Anthony Clark?” another asked.
The leader’s expression changed slightly.
“Anthony Clark is not a mistake.”
The others nodded immediately.
Everyone knew the reputation of the White Hunters Pack.
Their warriors were disciplined.
Their patrols precise.
Their territory heavily guarded.
No rogue survived long inside those forests.
“That Alpha is different,” the leader said quietly.
“He is young,” one wolf replied.
“Yes.”
“But he is not careless.”
The leader looked back toward the distant forest.
“Which is why we hunt here.”
The others understood.
Elliot’s land was becoming weak.
Anthony’s land remained strong.
But weakness always spread.
The leader turned back to them.
“Soon something will happen.”
“What?”
He smiled faintly.
“I do not know yet.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It should be.”
The wolves waited.
The leader’s voice became colder.
“All great disasters begin with something small.”
A mistake.
An insult.
A foolish action by someone who thinks himself untouchable.
The leader looked again toward Red Hollow territory.
“I only need a reason.”
The wolves watched him carefully.
“And when you have that reason?” one asked.
The man in black smiled slowly.
“Then I will know exactly what to do.”
The moon rose higher above the forest.
And somewhere beyond the trees, in the quiet halls of the university library, a red-haired omega girl closed the last book of the evening.
Florence Drake had no idea that wolves in the darkness were already waiting for the moment her existence would become their opportunity.
And when that moment came…
Blood would follow.
- Writer
