Rise of the Underdogs: JACOB

Arrival

The descent into Russia felt like slipping into a dream stitched together by fire and frost. As the plane dipped beneath the clouds, the landscape unfolded beneath me—vast stretches of forest dressed in autumn’s final blaze, trees burning with copper and crimson, their leaves swirling in slow, deliberate spirals across the wind-swept earth. The sky above was a pale, aching blue, the kind that hinted at snow without yet surrendering to it.

I leaned into the window, forehead brushing the cool glass, watching the world tilt and settle as the wheels met the tarmac with a muted thud. The vibration rolled through my chest, but I barely registered it. My focus was locked on the horizon, where the edges of the training compound stood like sentinels. Not lively, but stoic, asymmetrical areas carved into the land with a precision that felt almost sacred.

There was a stillness here, not the kind born of silence, but of intention. Everything felt measured. The air, even through the sealed cabin, carried a weight I hadn’t expected. Crisp and clean, but ancient somehow, like it remembered every footstep that had ever crossed it.

As the plane taxied toward the terminal, I caught sight of the perimeter guards. They stood in formation, black uniforms sharp against the russet backdrop, silver crests glinting faintly in the fading light. They weren’t Howlers, but they moved with the same discipline, the same quiet authority. I respected that. I understood it.

My hand tightened around the strap of my carry-on, the contents inside more than just items—they were pieces of home. A care package from the pack founders, filled with familiar comforts and quiet reminders that Valik was still tethered to us, no matter how far he’d gone. I wasn’t just delivering supplies. I was delivering presence. Proof that the Howlers remembered. That we never forget our own.

The intercom crackled overhead, first in Russian, then in English, but the words blurred into background noise. I was already standing, heart steady but alert, the kind of readiness that came not from nerves, but from purpose. This wasn’t a vacation. It wasn’t even a visit. It was a promise in motion.

When the cabin doors opened and I stepped into the open air, the cold greeted me like an old rival—sharp, unapologetic, and bracing. I inhaled deeply, letting it burn through my lungs, grounding me in the moment. Somewhere beyond these gates, out in the wilderness of the country, Valik was training harder than ever, pushing himself past limits most people couldn’t even name.

Pulling out my phone, I thumbed off airplane mode and watched the screen light up with a flood of missed texts and calls. They contained everything from pack updates to security pings, and a few emojis from Wynter that meant don’t die. Thirty thousand feet had felt like thirty thousand miles, and now that I was grounded, the weight of everything I’d left behind settled in my chest like wet stone.

I dug through my bag, fingers brushing the edge of the care package, then stepped toward one of the perimeter guards. Even from a distance, I could tell—Vampire. The pale skin, the rigid posture, the red-ringed irises that didn’t blink nearly enough. They didn’t move like wolves. They didn’t breathe like us. They watched.

‘T? You up?’ I asked, the words silent but sharp in my mind.

Thorne stirred, his presence curling like smoke behind my eyes. Loyal. Sarcastic. A little too dramatic for my taste, but he’d saved my ass more times than I could count.

‘Not that I want to be, but yes. I can smell the undead,’ he muttered, voice dry as ash.

I stifled a laugh, lips twitching. ‘Seriously? They’re not undead. They’re mosquitoes.’

The joke was a throwback to when Stanley once asked why I wasn’t afraid of them. when he’d asked, I started laughing like crazy. Then, when all was quiet, I told him that Vampires were the human equivalent of a tiny, flying, blood-sucking insect.

Did he absolutely lose his s**t and start laughing his ass off? You bet he did.

Thorne snorted. ‘Mosquitoes don’t wear tailored coats and pretend they invented etiquette.’

Duh! Of course, I snickered at that one.

The guard turned slightly, eyes locking onto mine with a flicker of recognition—or maybe curiosity. I didn’t flinch. I was a Delta of the Howler pack, and I’d come with purpose.

Reaching the guard, I stood closer than most normal people would when faced with an Apex predator. “Yo.”

“You are long way from home, Wolf,” the guard said, his voice gravelly and grave. Looking me up and down, he scowled as if trying to find the translation of his native Russian in English. “You… seem familiar.”

I blinked, “You probably saw me three, almost four years ago at the battle to save the Breakwater clan.”

“Ah,” he exclaimed suddenly. “A friend of Lord Stanley Valencia, then?”

Oh, thank the Goddess he knew at least one of the members of the Valencia family. I nodded sharply, “Yeah, but I’m closer to Vincent. Stanley’s more my sister, Wynter’s, preferred friend because of their prank wars back home. By the way, Lords Harold and Micah asked me to pass on their greetings.”

He looked at me questioningly, his head tilted to his side. “Izvinite?”

“Sorry, I don’t speak Russian,” I said.

His face took on a concerningly questionable look, “I said pardon me? You have a message? Speak!”

‘Oh, you poor, pathetic fool.’ Thorne scoffed in my head. ‘Does he not think you can take him? We didn’t spend hours sparring against Vince and Peter just to fall to this one.’

“Harold said: Touch the Delta wolf, pay in blood. Micah said he’d let his cousin Logan come wreak havoc,” I answered, my tone clipped and set just right.

Several others were watching the exchange now, and it was hilarious to see them whispering hotly behind hands that could snap a branch like a twig.

Drawing myself up to my full height, I c****d a brow. “I am Delta Jacob Grey, founding member of the Howler pack and lead Tracker. I’ve sparred with Vampires twice your calibre, so, if you have any common sense, you’re going to pick up your communicator and call it in to Prince Blaze that I’ve arrived for a scheduled visit. Otherwise, I’m calling in Alpha Prince Lord Logan Pierce, and he can handle this… issue.”

Blinking innocently, I let the realization that he was faced with a rarity by Werewolf standards sink in. Not just that, but I noticed the exact moment my name-dropping hit a nerve. As soon as I mentioned Logan by his true birthright title, the already pale man in front of me turned the colour of printer paper.

“You are one of Lord Logan’s? Why not lead with that!? We do not wish to go to war with someone who can shift into a wolf and use his Vampire power at the same time! Hold… hold a moment, yes? Bjorn! Bjorn, you were in the Breakwater Battle, yes?”

He called over another guard, who’s confused eyes fell on me before his face split into a grin. “Ah, Delta Jake, correct?”

I nodded.

“I fought beside you when a few Rogue Vampires got through the defence system just as the last of the Breakwater’s was sent through the portals. That little one you took a blade for, she was your sister?” He asked, his eyes bright.

“Yeah, she’s fine, and it was only three stitches in my shoulder,” I answered. “So, I’m trying to get to Valik Pierce. He’s here training, but I’m his best friend and visiting from Newfoundland, Canada. My contact is supposed to be General Blaze Shield.”

While the first guard scoffed, the second one nodded vigorously. “I’ll give him a call to get his current location.”

“No need,” another voice, this one far more familiar, echoed over the chaos of the bustling airport.

I turned, “Val!”

“Dude, you made it in one piece, but I gotta say,” Valik started, his blue eyes shimmering with contented pride. “I kinda pestered the General into letting me tag along to get you. So, ready to see what I’ve been up to? By the way, one of my roomies is a girl, but she’s lesbian and has a Mate back in her hometown. The other roomie is a guy who is as down-to-earth as you can get, but he also likes practical jokes.”

Hugging him tight, I shook my head. “Like I care about any of that. How much do you trust them?”

“Why-for you ask that?” He said, falling into our shared routine.

“Cause your position is set in stone, and Logan’s expecting you to find a team that’s fast, efficient, and friendly.” I told him.

“Then my team here will be perfect, I just don’t know if they’ll be released with me or at a later time. Don’t say anything to anyone, though. It’s not, you know, set in stone,” he advised.

Again, I blinked in that same innocent way that screamed I knew more than I spoke. “Tell who what?”

“And this is exactly why we’re best friends,” Valik commented.

He led me out to a slick-looking army Jeep. Another, younger Vampire poked his head out, offering a hand to me. Valik jumped into the back with my bags, taking a seat on one side. He motioned for me to follow.

“Vern’s quiet, but he’s one of the fun ones,” Valik said softly, seemingly more at peace than I’d seen since before that b***h rejected him. “Vern, this is Jake. He’s my best friend and the Delta of the Howler pack.”

“Ah, the infamous boy who makes his family crazy making things vanish?”

“Damn it, V! Anyway, where are we going?” I asked.

The driver, an older Vampire, barked a laugh. “You will enjoy Camp Katya, young Master. Lots of young ones looking for challenges. You fight?”

“Like the devil’s advocate,” Valik confirmed before I could speak.

Little did any of them know, he was right.