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Chapter 13- Slade, ten years ago

All my aches and pains are forgotten as I chase the scents and the screams. The rogue’s scent is so fresh and heavy in the air, like a rotten taint, he must be close by. Our pack stays alert, searching for any signs of him, any disturbed moss or snapped twigs, or rustle of an underbrush too large, any whisper on the wind that tells us our prey is here. It is likely the dishonored one is trying to lay a trap for us, because he is not the type to run from a fight. But he will try and even the odds, separate pack members to pick us off and play to his strengths. The rogue is fast and fights without mercy or honor, many do not see him until he is already upon them. And by then it is often too late. But our hunter band is the best among us and we are superior, we can best the feral and avenge the moon. He will fall on this day.

The smell of his cub and human mate also fills the swamp air and they too must be near. We pick up their tracks in the soggy ground, small human shoes, and one little bloody barefoot pressed into the mud over and over along with the rogue’s prints from both the skins he can wear. My paws do not fill his tracks, as he is much larger than me, but I fear not. With my pack at my back, I will rise to meet any challenge. I will kill the rogue and recapture our cub and his human mate, return them to the pack where they belong. The human girl now falls under our protection and we protect what is ours. It is our moon bound duty to protect what is ours and what is weaker than ourselves. Though I do not hate humankind, I do not believe they have a place among wolves, but the moon and the pack has made a claim on her and I will respect that. Besides, as it was one of our rogues that ended her parent’s life, that also makes us responsible for her now. It is the law of the moon and the land.

My sensitive wolf ears pick up a subtle movement of disturbed brackish water only seconds before a larger splash and a yelp cuts through the swamp. I turn to see a large dark wolf lunging at the member of our pack at the back, my packmate and kin, Wolfe. The attack comes quick and viciously, and the rogue’s jaws clamp down upon Wolf’s neck and drags him beneath the murk. Wolfe thrashes as he goes down and the other creatures in the water flee. It is as if a wraith of shadows has dragged the wolf down into the darkness. Clay, Hawke, and our head beta are closest to our fallen brother and give chase, diving down below the water, while Hollis and Leif anticipate where the rogue will remerge when he is forced to come up for air. They separate and run along the edges of the river basin going downstream.

Unlike most of the water in this swamp, which stands still or moves lazily, the rogue chose to attack our pack at the mouth of a river that cuts through the swamp. It leads all the way to the ocean where freshwater meets saltwater.  With his dark coat, and the depth of the water, the fast-moving current, the rogue blends in with the river, and he is keeping Wolfe pinned beneath it, making it harder to spot them both. The rogue is going with the flow of the water, not fighting the current, and letting it carry him and his prey downstream rather than aiding us to find them by his movements in the water. He must have our brother thoroughly immobilized or worse.  Ignoring the thread which pulls me north and away from the black river, I move to dive into the water myself to aid the search for our fallen brother and the rogue, but River butts me in the side with his snout.  I snarl at him as he places his own body in between myself and the river’s edge. He nudges me again with his head, pushing me away from the dark waters.

He is reminding me of my orders, the job our beta tasked me and him with yesterday. And is likely the same job the moon has given me as well. River and I were ordered to find our cub and her human sister, to be responsible for getting them away to safety and the protection of the nearest pack, to the Tidelands, where we will await further orders until our pack rejoins us. I was angered at first that my beta wanted to keep me out of the direct fight with the rogue, because of my lack of experience and disobedience of a direct command on our last hunt. But I had not argued or questioned that direct order, I knew I needed to prove myself in my father’s eyes, but now that it has come to pass, I’m torn with indecision, and I do not like being sidelined from the fight. I would rather be following the river to save my kin and kill the rogue than playing nursemaid to young pups of any species.

But it doesn’t seem River or the moon is going to let me shirk those duties, as both are urging me away from the river and towards the girls.  After a few more seconds of hesitation on the bank, watching my kind in the water swim downstream, and my pack on land disappear from view, with a final growl of indignation and frustration, I turn from the river and run towards where my instincts are pulling me.

River runs along beside me, shoulder to shoulder to where our fur nearly touches, keeping the pace and his nose to the ground. I do not need to let scent guide me. That thread guides me along to the place we must go to find the girls. It attracts me north and I smell the decaying wood before I see the human dwelling and I know inside we will find our cub and the little human. I am met with both a sensation of relief and terror that I cannot explain. I know both of them still live, for we would smell it if they did not, but I am apprehensive and fearful for reasons I do not understand. I freeze on the cusp of the decaying shack.

River thinks to shift back into his human skin. And he stands naked and freckled in the sunlight.

“If you wear your fur in there, cousin, you’ll likely scare those poor girls to death after all they’ve been through.”

I know he speaks true, but still I struggle to shed my fur. It acts as a barrier for me and I’ll feel naked in more ways than one without it. But I do not want to terrorize them further still, so I force the shift to come. I also force a snide smile onto my lips.

“You walk in there like that cousin, and you really will scar them for life.”

He snorts, “The lesser of two evils. Now let’s go get these girls to safety. Move slow and try not to scare them. If possible, let them come to us and avoid removing them from here by force.”

I nod. It’s good advice and they’ll likely be skittish and afraid. They probably will be wary and not trust us which is to be expected. My heart beats solidly in my chest and I wonder what kind of state we will find them in. it’s unlikely to be good and I doubt the rogue took proper care of them. Humans are fragile and I suspect the older sister will be worse off than the younger.  I have faced down rogues, bears, panthers without batting an eye and yet the thought of facing an 11-year-old girl scares the fuck out of me. I would prefer to face a full-grown black bear at the moment to be honest. I force myself to get my shit together and put one foot in front of the other.

I follow River up the crumbling stairs, across the porch riddled with missing planks and jagged gaps, and through what I assume was once a door. Now it lies in broken pieces, leaving the shack wide open to whatever predators pass this way. I’m already enraged at the thought of Bale leaving the girls so unprotected while he hunted us. A bear or panther could have gotten in and mauled them to death.

River slowly enters first, careful to where he puts his bare feet, and trying not to make sudden movements. I have to admit, River is probably the least threatening looking of our hunter band, with his freckles, easy smile, and fire red hair, calm demeanor. I, on the other hand, come off to humans as a shady emo type with questionable morals looking to rebel. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a flash judgement, I don’t wear black all the time or eyeliner or chains or listen to Indie bands, I actually prefer classic rock, but I do like to wear my brown hair in spiky points and I’m 6’2”, so it’s probably a good thing River goes in first and the Jolly Red Giant is the first one those poor girls lay eyes on. And he’s good with kids and other small creatures.

“Hello? We aren’t here to hurt you,” he calls out, “we’re here to help. To take you somewhere safe.”

I enter right behind him, and my eyes scan the shack. I’m greeted by broken furniture, moldy old food cans, a backpack that smells of Jack Cross with its contents strewn over the floor, a silver-plated knife I know belongs to Bale, and where he bedded for the night in his nest of moss and sticks. I don’t even see them on my first sweep, but I hear a little whimper and my eyes go to where a rope leads under the bed. The mattress on the old metal frame barely covers it anymore as it was torn apart by scavengers, but its just enough to cast under the bed in shadows. I make out four eyes gazing at us, one pair golden, and the other midnight blue. I’m frozen. I can’t move another step or look away. The thread inside my chest pulls so tight I can’t even fucking breathe. I fight the urge to claw at it.

River inches closer, putting on a calm smile, and drops down to one knee, “Hi. Sloane and Celeste, I take it. We were sent to rescue you.”

A deep breath lets out from under the bed and the golden set of eyes close as the cub buries her face.

 “Why should I trust you? How do I know it’s not all a trick?” askes the older sister. Sloane.

River smiles patiently, “That’s a smart question. I’m River and this is my cousin Slade. And we know a dog named Max who will be very happy to see you both. He’s waiting for you.”

“Max is dead…The bad wolf killed him…”

“I have good news for you Sloane. We found Max at your house on Cherry Tree Lane, we got him help and he’s almost as good as new,” explains River.

“I…I…don’t believe you. And you’re not wearing any clothes just like him. Your just like him aren’t you? Monsters!”

I move forward when anger overrides my confusion and immobility, “We are nothing like him!”

A head with messy black hair peaks out from under the bed further, a rope tied around her neck, a clay-stained cheek, covered in bites and scratches, one hand holding a pocketknife. The girl waves it at us with a fire in her eyes.

“Stay away from me and my sister! You aren’t touching her!” she screams.

And just like that, when I get my first unobstructed view of her dirty, marred face, when her eyes meet mine, everything else fades away. The air is sucked from my lungs and my legs go weak. I stumble and grab onto an old chair to keep myself upright. But I am far from balanced.  I’m hit with an intense rush of emotions and feelings. Protect. Keep safe. Make happy. Get her far away from here. Mate.

I suck in a deep breath and River takes his eyes off the girl, off my mate, long enough to cast me a worried glance. I struggle against the onslaught of feelings towards a girl I’ve only just met, and a human one at that. My wolf is screaming in my head and my eyes are probably glowing. How can I feel so much for someone instantly? I want nothing more than to scoop up my mate and carry her off to safety. To make her smile and laugh and provide for her and keep her safe always. I already love her in the same way I love my brother, my kin, my pack.

“But…but your human…” I stutter.

“What else would I be?” she asks, “I knew it. You are like the bad wolf. Why should I trust you?”

My mate is tied up around the neck like a dog. Rage and desire to rip Bale apart courses through me. But my first duty is to get my mate and the cub to safety. No matter what other feelings I currently have. What conflicted emotions are waging a war inside myself between my wolf side and my human one.

River tries to get control of the situation, “Sloane, there are good wolves and bad ones, just like with people. We’re some of the good ones and were sent here to rescue you and Celeste. To get you somewhere safe where he can never hurt you again.”

She shudders, “He won’t let us go.”

I stagger forward, “He won’t ever touch you again. Because we’re going to kill him. My pack is out hunting him right now. He won’t get away.”

“I wanted to be the one to kill him,” she responds, “it looks like he already got to you too.”

She eyes the bruises and cuts that pepper my skin. And despite it all, the seriousness of the fucked-up situation, of me finding my mate in a human, of Wolfe possibly being dead, of the rest of our hunter band chasing the rogue down the river, of finding the Cross girls dirty, injured, and cowering beneath a bed in fear of our kind, I can’t help but smile.

“I’m sure you would have one day,” I tell her.

I need to find a way to put her at ease, to convince her to come with us willingly. The thought of dragging her out of here kicking and screaming and terrified doesn’t sit well with me. The little cub will follow her sister’s lead, so if we gain Sloane’s trust, the little one will give us no problems.

 The moon hates me I think, this has to be its way of making me eat crow for all the years I professed I would never have a mate and that humans and wolfs didn’t belong together.  But I can process and fret over all that later. For now, River and I have a job to do. We will get my mate, Sloane I force myself to think of her as instead, and our cub out of this swamp while our hunter band does their part and puts down the rogue. The girls will be safe with the Tidelands pack, with River and I also watching over them, until we can return them to Shadow Ridge. I’ll see to it that their dog Max is reunited with them as well as he currently still lives with the Blue Moon pack while he recovers.

The gleam of Bale’s knife catches my eye. The rogue has used it in the past to inflict injuries on our kind to torture them, even back when he still lived in Shadow Ridge. I usually carry one in my own boot, though more for defense in the chance of running into unfriendly or enemy packs, or even rogues when it’s not safe to shift into my fur to fight back. I pick up the discarded knife and walk back over to the bed. Sloane is still indecisive and deciding if she will trust us or not. Half of her body is still tucked under the bed, she continues to hold that little knife in front of her, and the cub has yet to come out at all.

I hold the knife up to show her, “Silver. It hurts our kind.”

I make a shallow cut on my palm as her wide night-colored eyes watch and I hiss as the blood bubbles where the silver has touched. It hurts like hell, like the bite of a swarm of fire ants. I hold up my sizzling palm for her to get a better look.

“See,” I say through gritted teeth, “It works much better than the little knife you got there. You can have it.”

I crouch down and sit it on the rotting floorboards near her. At first, she makes no move to pick it up. Probably thinking I aim to trick her.  With everything Bale put them through, I understand her mistrust of our kind especially. She has only seen the worst of us. She scowls at me.

“This is my Dad’s knife.”

“Well two knives are better than one. Keep them both,” encourages River, “we can help cut you free of that rope if you want.”

She eyes us for several seconds longer, before a filthy little hand swipes the knife. She doesn’t take her eyes off us and several minutes pass. Then she looks back at the cub shaking under the bed and holds out a hand to her little sister.

“Come on sunny bunny. They’re here to rescue us. Take us far away from here. It’s okay.”

An even smaller hand, but equally as filthy, grabs onto the lifeline she is offered. River and I back up to make room for the girls to come out and not to scare them anymore. We keep a healthy distance as they crawl out from under the bed. The little one practically hides behind her sister, but she peeks out at us curiously. Seeing her in the flesh I can see the resemblance to the rogue. She has his eyes and shade of hair, the slope of his jaw, though her chin is a softer version and not such harsh lines.

 In the full light of day, I notice several things that make my stomach sick and return my feelings of hatred and wanting to kill Bale. Both girl’s clothes are filthy, and they stink of swamp water, their exposed skin are covered in scratches and bites, but it’s the sight of the rope around my mate’s neck, the scabbing over claw marks down her left cheek, and the bloodstained shredded sock on her right foot that nearly makes me come undone.  I clench my fists and try and channel my rage. It’s the last thing these girls need to see.

Sloane tugs at the rope around her neck and I know it has to be uncomfortable. I can see the marks its left upon her fair skin.

“There’s clothes in my dad’s pack. Put some on and make yourselves decent. My sister doesn’t need to see you naked,” orders my mate.

River laughs and I smile. My mate is already giving us commands. She’d make a fine Luna someday. I stop myself before I consider it any further. I will never be Alpha and I’m not sure I will ever claim her as my mate when she comes of age. It goes against my beliefs and my vows. I chose a life of being a hunter forsaking all else. My wolf is not happy with my thoughts or the idea of rejecting my mate when she’s old enough to feel the mating bond.

“That sounds like a good idea,” agrees River.

He rifles through the clothes on the floor. I force myself to tear my eyes away from the fierce little human who watches us like a hawk. I know how she has survived this long with the rogue, she’s tenacious and plucky as fuck. She has the heart of a Luna already. Even grown men would be broken by now after five days in the hands of the sadistic feral. But the scrap of a girl who is barely five feet tall at that, and no more than eighty pounds soaking wet, stares down two wolves triple her size with her head held high and with a defiant gaze. A sense of pride washes over me. My mate. My wolf is satisfied too.

 I pick up a pair of grey sweats and slip my long legs inside while River chooses a pair of mesh shorts and a tank top. I also find a t-shirt with an old rock band I actually like and pull it over my head. I look around the floor to see if there is anything else useful to bring along on our journey out of the swamp. We obviously can’t leave the way we came. We’ll have to go on our human legs to get the girls out and return to where our hunter band left the vehicles.

It will be no easy task for many reasons. The girls are tired and weak, I can tell they have lost some weight by the way their clothes hang off them. It will be a long way for them over many miles of uneven and waterlogged terrain. And Sloane only has one shoe, her barefoot is badly damaged I can tell even through the remains of the bloody sock crusted to it. She won’t make it far on that bad foot and with no protection on her feet.

Not to mention slipping the girls undetected through the swamp, avoiding the game warden out searching for the feral, and then into our vehicle under the noses of the law enforcement still swarming Waycross, will be a miracle in itself. That doesn’t include making the several hour journey to the Tideland’s pack land in without being spotted along the way. We will have to stop for gas and to let the girls go to the bathroom and to get them food, all of which are opportunities to be sighted. Everyone in the whole damn country is looking for the Cross sisters. The case has blown up and coverage is worldwide. The humans are captivated by the story and it’s the number one internet search for the past several days now. They will be easily recognizable, and luck isn’t on our side. I have to keep believing the moon is though.  It led us here after all. We can sort all the rest out later. I pick up a canteen and sling it across my shoulder.

“Don’t think this means I trust either of you. But I know if you wanted me or CeCe dead, you would have done it already. I know how fast and strong you werewolves are. And I’m warning you, if you hurt my sister, I’ll use this knife on you,” declares Sloane.

“That seems fair. But you don’t have anything to worry about when it comes to us. We are only here to get you and your sister to safety. Would you let me cut that rope off from around your neck? It looks very uncomfortable,” River’s brow scrunches with sympathy.

She thinks it over, then her midnight eyes finds me, “He can do it. But I’m warning you, no funny business.”

I don’t know why she seems to trust me over River and chooses me for such a task. Can she sense the mating bond? I know she’s too young to feel the things I do, but maybe she feels traces of it in some way. Regardless, I’m not going to question it and I uptake the task carefully. I don’t think I breathe as I cross the distance between us. She cranes her neck to look up and me and I could count all the freckles across her nose, can see the quick rise and fall of her chest, hear the frantic beats of her heart. She’s scared of me. But at the same time, she holds the pocketknife out for me to take with a steady hand.

The cub presses herself fully behind her sister, but my mate watches me without retreating. The brush of my fingers against her palm is like a jolt of electricity. It startles me and I nearly pull my hand back. If she feels it too, she makes no indications. I take the knife from her hand slowly.

I clear my throat, “Thank you. Hold real still. This will only take a minute.”

I try to make as little contact with her skin as possible as I delicately cut away the rope. I’m terrified I’ll cut her soft skin. I don’t want to be shocked again or scare her. I can hear the calming of her heart, even though I have a knife close to her neck, before I even cut the rope all the way free. Behind me, I can hear River doing the same thing I did only moments ago, scavenging for anything that may make our trip across the swamp and back towards civilization, a bit easier.

I can feel her swallow against my fingertips, the quick thrumming of her pulse as I cut the last thread free and pull the rope away. I frown at the burn marks marring her ivory skin. I want to make Bale pay for every wicked thing he has ever done, but mostly for the marks he’s left behind on my mate’s skin. And I’m just as angry and worried about the ones we can’t see.

She rubs the raw skin of her throat, “Thanks for that. Where are you going to take us? My sister needs something to eat. It’s been a couple days since the wolf gave her any food.”

She brushes back hair from her face and tries to smooth it into place. Her eyes are round and luminous, the shade of the peak of night, blue-black, my favorite cover, and are breathtakingly beautiful. And I swear I can feel her looking right into my soul. I’m again hit with an avalanche of feelings that I nearly get lost in. And I can’t breathe. All I see is her. All I want is for her to be happy and safe. To never want for anything or be hurt ever again.

It's River that breaks the trance I’ve fallen into. He shakes a bag of dried fruit he found buried in the pack.

“It’s not much I’m afraid girls, but it can hold you over until we get out of this damn swamp. And then we’ll get you whatever you want to eat. Whatever your heart desires,” he smiles.

The lines around my mate’s mouth soften and she nods. I look away, as she is almost too painful to look at and my heart can barely take it. She turns back to the little cub behind her.

“Time to go CeCe. We’ve been rescued and they’re taking us somewhere nice. We can have ice cream and pizza and get you a nice dress. A purple one, okay? You don’t have to be afraid of the bad wolf anymore.”

I hear a sniffle before a blond head looks out again. The cub looks to be in better shape than my mate, but I can tell by the way her plumper cheeks look less full than her photos, she is malnourished, and she needs water by her cracked lips and pale skin. Besides the scratches dotting her arms and face, I can’t see any other visible signs of injury.

River drops down to the little cubs eye level, “Hello there. I’m River and this is my cousin Slade. And we are going to take you out of this smelly swamp. We’ll get you whatever kind of ice cream you want, and Slade will buy you a dress in every color. Are you ready to get out of here, little one?”

I chuckle at my cousin’s promise.  My mate gives her sister a nod and a warm smile. The poor little cub is traumatized to say the least.

“You have mermaid hair,” she finally says to him, her voice a whisper.

And then my mate laughs. The sound is warm and sweet, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes it to hear it again. To be the cause of it.  She pats her sister on the head.

“She’s talking about the Disney Princess Ariel. It’s the first thing she’s said in days. It’s one of her favorites,” explains my mate.

River grins broadly and shakes out his red locks, “I get that a lot. Do you mind if I carry you, little one? So, we can get out of here faster?”

The cub nods. I can see what Sloane is thinking. She has no intentions of being carried like a baby. I see the stubborn lock of her jaw. And even though she only has one shoe, and a sliced-up foot, I don’t doubt my mate would make it the whole way out of this swamp by sheer will and determination. She must come for sturdy stock to have survived the rogue.

“I’ll walk. I can make it,” she says.

Riv doesn’t look too thrilled at the idea either and we pass a look between us. We won’t do anything against her will, and though it’ll likely gut me to watch her hobble along in pain, we will respect her wishes and let her try. Our feet look as human as hers at the moment, but our skin is tougher and made for walking barefoot across harsh terrain. Our skin is thicker too, and a natural bug repellant, all of which are compliments of the moon.

“Okay. But if at any time it get’s to be too much for you, just let us know,” replies Riv.

Then my cousin picks up the little cub and she grips him tightly around the neck. My mate follows after them towards the door, carrying the bag of dried fruits he handed her. She pops one into her sister’s mouth on the way. I notice she doesn’t take any for herself, though I figure she must be as famished. The limp in her step makes my heart hurt and desire to rip Bale limb from limb all over again.

 I trail behind, bringing up the rear. Nothing will get close to my mate or the little cub. I’ll rip apart any threat that dares to try. I push all thoughts of my hunter band and revenge from my thoughts as I keep my senses wide open. Nothing will get past me. Nothing will ever scar my mate again so long as I live.

Just before we leave the clearing to enter the brush, as the birds trill up in the trees, and the crawdad’s sing, my mate turns to look back at me. Up ahead, River bounces Celeste up and down, making pony noises and turning it all into a game. But the older sister doesn’t have the same luxury of forgetting or playing pretend.  There’s something older in her eyes I know wasn’t there before she watched her parents get murdered and was taken by the rogue. Even matted and dirty, Sloane’s black hair shines, and she gives a smile meant only for me. 

“Thanks for coming. I don’t know how much longer we could have survived him. I didn’t think anyone would ever find us,” she confesses.

My voice is thick, my eyes blur, “I’ll always find you. No matter what.”

She holds my gaze a few seconds more with a thoughtful expression. She lets out a relieved breath. Then turns back to face the path ahead.  I follow my mate into the swamp. I would follow her anywhere. And I know my life is changed forevermore.

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