Thanks to their driver’s licenses, we identify the dead parents as Jack Cross aged thirty-seven, and his wife Ava, thirty-four. A paper trail of old leases also tells us the family moved to Camden four months ago and has moved many times over the past several years. The lockbox contains the girl’s birth certificates, placing the oldest Sloane at eleven and Bale’s child Celeste, at only four. We try to put the pieces together about how Bale fathered a cub with the human woman who was already married and had a six-year-old daughter by the time the little wolf was conceived. With the way he acted around Star, I have to wonder if it was consensual.
We reach out to Grady to help us get those answers we seek. But since the bodies haven’t been officially called in yet, his hands are tied before he can do some digging for us without raising too many suspicions. Our inside detective makes sure an anonymous tip is called in about the dead parents after we leave the farm at 1722 Cherry Tree Lane. We were careful not to leave any evidence we’d been there behind.
We take to the road to make for our nearest allies, the Blue Moon Pack in the hills of western Kentucky. There we plan to regroup and officially make the call for aid to help find the Cross girls and Bale before it’s too late. Having one of our own in danger, will help convince the packs to rally together to get our cub back, and take a dangerous threat to our kind off the streets once and for all.
In the meantime, we do some research on our own to try and connect the dots. An internet search generates a hit, and the pieces start to click together forming a grim picture. Five years ago in Northern California, Ava Cross was sexually assaulted in a violent attack that left her hospitalized. Her assailant was never caught. Grady looks into the case as soon as its safe to do so and finds some video footage captured from the parking lot where the assault occurred. It’s grainy, but we can make out Bale, now in hindsight knowing what we know. Not to mention the camera captures a man entering on foot and later a large wolf runs out of the lot from another exit.
He must have been interrupted during the rape of Ava Cross, because we firmly believe he would have kidnapped the poor woman afterwards and forced her into a life of being his unwilling mate. Before Bale got his chance to take her, the family moved away when she was released from the hospital. And they had kept changing addresses every several months for the past five years. The timeline of events all matched up to Bale’s whereabouts at that point in time and the child’s birth nine months later.
Father blames himself for not catching this all those years ago, but how could he as the attack wasn’t his old pack mates usual style? Bale typically didn’t leave his victims breathing. Grady promises to keep us in the loop of any developments about the Cross girls or the rogue that comes his way. With two young girls with him, it will be nearly impossible for Bale to stay off the grid permanently. And especially with all the media coverage the case is generating, it is only a matter of time before they are spotted somewhere. The girls smiling faces are plastered on fliers and billboards across the country, with a twenty-thousand-dollar reward being offered to the public for their help in finding them. The Feds have also gotten involved in the search.
Our pack are far from the only ones looking for them. Father pleads to the council and sends word out to packs around the country to keep an ear to the ground and be on the lookout. Leif and Hollis accompany several hunters from the Blue Moon pack to search nearby woods in what we believe is the area Bale is headed. Around the country, packs answer our call and conduct searches of their own.
But as the hours tick by, I hate the feeling of sitting on my ass and not out there actively searching for the girls. Clay and Wolfe distract themselves with mateless she-wolfs on Blue Moon pack lands, but I can barely, eat or sleep, let alone fuck. I can’t stop thinking about those girls and the anxiety is driving me fucking crazy. I know that Bale won’t intentionally hurt his own cub, but I’ve seen the product of his rage, and he could inadvertently hurt the little wolf or worse.
I fear more for the human sister, the one we’re convinced Bale took as his next mate. Thoughts of what that sick rogue could be doing to her make me physically ill. I pray to the moon he isn’t doing to her what he did to her mother, that even though he claimed her, he plans on waiting until she’s older to physically mate the poor girl. That’s why we need to find her especially before that day comes. No doubt these girls are already damaged and will carry the scars the rest of their days of all the horrors they’ve seen thanks to the depraved rogue, but we need to save Sloane Cross from the unspeakable fate that befell her mother. And perhaps an even worse one.
I feel like I’m going to jump out of my own skin. I search the internet, even resorting to chat rooms where the public claims they’ve sighted the girls. I watch the news channels all through the night and next day. The wait, the unknowing, is killing me, fucking torture. But my helplessness comes in a close second. I develop some kind of connection to the older sister, because Mace is around her age, and my mind goes to dark places of what if it was my brother we were all searching for? I think of the box of horror movies hidden under her bed and her drawling’s of movie monsters. I gave her stuffed bee and the little one’s bear over to the Blue Moon pack so they could imprint their scents.
In all this fucked up shit though, there is one silver lining. The dog, Max, is recovering well. Between River’s blood and the pack healers, the animal made it through the night. His will to live is strong. He barely made a sound the whole ride here, even with the bumps of the road, the pain of his broken bones knitting back together. I gave him morphine to help with the journey and water from a sponge. The pack healer Lily says the dog is going to pull through. I’m glad the girls will be reunited with their pet when we find them. River takes a liking to the dog and spends lots of time with the animal, helping to care for it while it recovers. He has a tenderness about him not all that common to wolfs his age, and I know he’ll make a good father to his cubs someday.
I burn off some of the tension and restlessness by shifting and running through the hills of Kentucky. Though I don’t stay in my wolf skin for too long in case Grady calls with a tip. When I arrive back at the cabin we are staying in, bathed in sweat, and still naked as the day I was born beneath the snow moon, Father waits for me on the porch.
“We need to talk son,” he says not unkindly.
My fingers bite into the porch railing, “Did they find the missing girls?”
I’ve been dreading hearing terrible news. That their bodies turn up somewhere. But I try and hold out hope we’ll find them safe and alive. Bale took them both for a reason, as they have some value to him. If he didn’t, their blood would have stained the walls of that farmhouse just like their father’s. Or in the case of the little she-cub, like the man who raised her.
“Not yet. But we will. It’s you I want to talk about son. I’m worried about you. I know this case is hard and taking a toll on all of us, but you need to take better care of yourself. You’re of no use to those girls or our hunter band, weak, starving, exhausted. I need you in good shape and ready to go when we get that call, Slade.”
He has a point. I’ve been neglecting myself and my basic human needs. I haven’t slept in going on over two days and the last thing I remember eating is the pizza in the motel hours before we found Bale’s latest victims. That was nearing forty hours ago. I haven’t been hungry or able to stomach anything since, and I’ve been too amped and restless to close my eyes. Too many thoughts keep my eyes open. But the pack is counting on me to do my part when we get a lead on Bale and the Cross girls. I owe it to them and myself to be at my best. Mistakes out in the field chasing rogues led to death and second chances are rare. The moon has already granted me one and I can’t well expect the moon to keep in me in its favor if I keep tempting fate.
I nod, “Okay. I’ll have a bite to eat and catch some sleep. Please wake me up the moment you hear from Grady or any of the other packs. The moment you hear anything.”
He squeezes my shoulder, his amber eyes shine with his inner wolf coming through, “You have my word. But if you don’t follow my orders to rest and eat, you’ll remain with the pack here and not rejoin the hunt. Do I make myself clear?”
“Is this coming from Beta Alder or my father?” I remark, a bit stung.
“Both. Now go get some rest and a hot meal. We’ll catch up later to discuss any developments.”
“Yes, Beta Alder. Understood loud and clear.”
I try to put my feelings aside as I march off to the kitchen. This isn’t the first time being my father has clashed with Alder Ironclaw also being the head beta of the hunter band, and I doubt it’ll be the last. I’ve never cared much for the pack hierarchy, but it’s just the way it is. Rank and respect have to be fought for, earned, and can be even harder to keep. But I know he won’t show me favoritism and being his son won’t save me from getting kicked off the hunts and possibly the wrath of the council if I disobey direct orders.
I find a she-wolf named Brooke cooking up the largest pot of beef stew I’ve ever seen. I eat two helpings and a chunk of bread. Then I shower, make a quick pit stop to check in on the dog Max or Little Alpha as Clay has renamed him, and then find an empty bed. I stare at the wall and try to clear my mind, so sleep finds me. Wolfe thinks he’s being helpful with my insomnia problem when a naked she-wolf with blonde hair down to her knees, shows up in my room.
“Wolfe thought you needed some help to fall asleep. I can help with that,” she says in a sing-song voice.
I exhale a deep breath. She’s pretty enough and I can already smell her arousal leaving me to wonder if she touched herself before she entered my room. It’s a tempting offer. Her breasts are peaked and full and she runs a hand across them, then all the way down between her thighs. She fingers the dark curls and spreads her legs apart to let me watch.
Hell, I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, no I hate myself already for this, but I’m not in the mood to fuck her. A good fuck can help me fall asleep, but now I think it might have the opposite effect on my over wired brain.
“Fuck,” I groan, “you’re hot and all, but tell Wolfe no thanks. Because if I fuck you now, I’ll want to fuck you all day and night long, and then I really won’t get any fucking sleep.”
She continues to stroke the wetness I can smell spreading from her apex, “Are you sure? The moon created mating just for this. To help our bodies relax and rest and bring pleasure. Who are we to question the wisdom of the moon?”
Damn, she makes an excellent point. It would be easy to slip inside her, as she’s already wet and wanting, but I have too many frustrations and tensions to work through to satisfy that need, and still follow my beta’s command. If I fuck this she-wolf, it could mean the difference between me having my packs back and doing my duty to find the missing girls or blowing off the responsibility for an easy lay. If the call comes, and I’m not ready, Father will make good on his threat to leave me behind. This is a hard choice I make, but just one of many sacrifices I’ll make because of the hunter life. I choose this life and all it brings with it. I will follow the command of my beta and await further orders.
“I’m good thanks. But if you’re still horny and wanting to follow the wisdom of the moon, go find one of my cousins Clay or Wolfe. Both would be happy to help. But steer clear of River, or his mate will likely tear you apart,” I warn.
Not that River would ever betray his mate like that in the first place, but I thought I’d save the aroused she-wolf that trouble.
She scoffed, “Your loss. You displease the moon and me.”
And then the she-wolf disappears without another word, giving me a nice view of her perfect ass, further letting me know what I’ve just missed out on. I curse myself and turn my face towards the wall, counting the shadows there as dusk settles in. At some point the moon shows mercy and sleep claims me. I’m awaken by Father’s familiar scent, like cedar and pine nuts, and his voice echoes across the darkened room.
“Slade, it’s time to get up. Grady just called. The moon has kept us in its favor. A vehicle registered to Jack Cross has just been found abandoned less than three hours from here in the Smoky Mountains. We shift in ten.”
The haze of sleep clears immediately as I all but jump out of bed and shove my feet into my boots. This is the first solid lead we’ve had in a couple days and we owe Grady big time. He might not be a wolf, but we have his loyalty and that’s hard to come by in the human world. Finding humans to trust are few and far between, influenced by a long and bloody history between our kinds. Many lives have been lost on both sides, and even in modern times, we are hunted by those who fear what they do not understand. Their hate and prejudice run as deep and plentiful as the underground spring back home which provides for the pack. That is yet another reason humans and wolfs do not belong as mates as our very species despises one another and cannot live in peace and harmony.
But it is also our duty to protect all the moon’s children, even the ones who can only wear one skin, and would put a silver bullet through our hearts just because of their fear. We protect our own and those weaker than ourselves, just as the moon intended when it brought forth life. And so, we give our blood, our lives, to protect the tuniculas, when they would not do the same for us. When they slaughter us often targeting the she-wolfs so no new life can be created, when they steal our cubs to train to hunt down their own kind, to turn into enslaved pets, still we fight and bleed for them.
Even now, despite deep rooted beliefs among some of our kind who believe that wolves should rule the Earth as we are the most favored and blessed of the moon’s creations, who are tired of hiding ourselves and being fearful for the future of our cubs, they come together to help find a human girl, to help stop the slaughter of her kind. We come together for a purpose bigger than ourselves, to lay aside hatred and prejudices for the common good. Tonight, we are one, united under the moon.
Bale already has a significant head start on us, but with the two girls along, his progress will be much slower than if he were traveling alone. In wolf form, a Lycan can easily cover a hundred miles a night or more. Even packs can roam through half that distance, with their unshifted cubs, when needed in the time it takes for the moon to rise and set. Bale’s little cub will likely adjust to the forest quickly, as her natural instincts will take over, but the human sister will not be so lucky. Her body is not made for it, but her misfortune will be to our advantage as it will slow our prey down considerably.
With the help of the Blue Moon pack, and any whom can make the journey here fast enough, we’ll make quick work of all that ground to cover in the mountains of Tennessee. Our wolf forms can cross the distance in less time than gas powered engines, so most of us will wear our wolf skins tonight. Instinct tells me, the feral has taken the Cross girls into forest country. A wolf is most at home among the trees and the concrete jungles are no friends to us. We coexist in the human world, as we are part human, but we are not of their world, and their ways. A wolf prefers to die alone, to go off into the forest, and slip from this life into the next in much the same way he entered it. Our she-wolves give birth among the trees and its considered a good omen when a cub is born at night in the presence of the moon.
I just pray to the moon we aren’t already too late. That the girls have not been returned to the Earth. As I step out into the night, the moon is round and nearly full in the sky, and its light will guide the way. Soon, it will be the holy night of the month when we all take to our blessed skins to honor the moon in our most natural forms. But tonight, the moon seems ready to answer our call for aid, for protection, for its favor.
In its light, I say my prayer and ask for its blessing. I shed one skin for another. Our brethren are thirty strong tonight, with several more who will remain in their human skins and make the trek on wheels to bring supplies we have use of in the human world. We await shoulder to shoulder for the signal from our beta. A howl goes out, we take to the trees, and the hunt is on.
We drive through the remainder of the night in the stolen truck, because when I open my eyes again, the sun shines brightly through the windows. For a moment, I forget where I am and all that has happened. But all too soon, it all comes flooding back to me, like a tsunami crashes inside my head, the kind Dad and I watched a documentary about once, and I wish I was still asleep. I don’t feel good. I ache in a lot of places and I wish Mom was here to take care of me. She always knows what to do to make us feel better when we’re sick. But Mom’s not here. And she never will be again because the monster killed her. She’ll never make me soup or ice pops or sing me to sleep when I feel bad ever again. That thought hits me hard and I nearly cry out. But I hold it in. Because I don’t want to scare my little sister. We only have each other now, and I will take care of her. CeCe is staring at me, as she fidgets, holding her small hands between her legs. It’s her need to potty dance. But she doe
Nothing compares to the feel of the wind coursing through my fur beneath the light of the moon, through the trees, the naked ground beneath my paws, with a pack of my brothers running alongside. The freedom, the simplicity of it, is the closest my kind will ever get to Heaven on Earth. I do not let these feelings override our mission though, do not allow myself to get lost in the euphoric emotions the merge brings, of the beauty of each vine, the masterpiece of every flower, the sounds of the birds and other creatures dancing among the trees, the rich smells of the moon’s creations, because the moon must be avenged, and our own cub returned to the pack. Violations of the worst kind have been committed against the moon’s children, both those that walk on two legs or many, and blood is the price to be paid from the transgressor. The moon demands blood, and as moon favored and the strongest among its creations, we will make sure that debt is paid in full.Our strong legs carry us through
While we stumble through the woods, Cece’s lips are so dry they begin to crack and bleed, and my own aren’t too far off as my tongue is too dry to even wet my own lips. The air is hotter here, the bugs are out and thriving in this climate, and our thirst and hunger are no longer the only things which bother us. I’m soon covered in bites and welts that sting, and I give up on swatting away the mosquitoes from the patches of my exposed skin. I’m grateful my little sister doesn’t seem to be liked by the biting insects as much, but neither of us escape the scratches from thorns and vines that snake out in the path. Both of us are soon exhausted and miserable as the wolf forces us to walk through the night. And the wolf isn’t the only thing to be afraid of out here.Things move in the brackish water that smells foul. I figure out pretty quickly these woods led to a swamp. I’ve watched enough documentaries with Daddy to realize this, to know it’s likely man-eating alligators that move thro
About forty miles from the Florida line, in Waycross Georgia, I pace on the side of the road, gritting my teeth, and kicking at loose gravel with my boots. Our hunter band is caught up in the traffic of a road closure and I’m losing my damn mind at being forced to be idle and stand by. Once again, the tuniculas are fucking everything up, hindering our search of the rogue and the Cross girls, and making us lose valuable time. Every second counts in this hunt. We’ve already burned enough daylight, and with three a.m. quickly closing in, another night will pass for those poor girls in the company of their depraved captor. Only the moon knows what is happening to them. And I shudder at the thought.The law in this county as well as the Feds have created a roadblock in and out of Waycross, where Bale slaughtered eight humans only hours before. They aren’t making our job any easier as their closure has made traffic a standstill and pretty much blocked our access to the town. Not that we nee
My little sister and I struggle through the swamp, our progress even slower by our lack of food, water, and proper rest for the past couple days. By the branches that snag our hair and clothes like thorny hands, roots tangling around our feet, animals slithering and darting into the brush around us, terrifying CeCe especially. Luckily, most of the big animals are asleep this time of day, or hide in the shade, only coming out when the ground cools and night falls.But the monster I fear the most is the wolf who stole us from the only life we ever knew and murdered our parents and dog, the one which can also wear the face of a man. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him there ready to pounce. Imagining those glowing eyes as the last thing I ever see before he rips out my throat with his sharp teeth or breaks my neck like a twig. To take me down the way he did Daddy, Mom, and those poor people at the gas station. I can only hope he sleeps the day away like most wolfs do
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 litt
I have lots of questions for the wolves, but every step I take is so much agony, its hard to focus on anything else. I bite my lip bloody to keep from crying out, but sometimes I can’t help but wince, and stumble when I step on something sharp. Every time I falter or hiss with pain, I feel the brush of fingers against my back to steady me, I hear the brown-haired wolf, no Slade, suck in a breath between his teeth. But still, despite the sweat that coats my brow, and the tremble of my body, I pull myself up straighter and continue down the path we make through the soggy ground and dark waters.River carries CeCe up ahead, naming the things we see around, the types of trees, wildflowers, the creatures we encounter in the underbrush both big and small. He knows a lot about the swamp. He plucks a salamander from the mud to give us both a better look and encourages us to feel its smooth skin. CeCe does so, but I shake my head, as I know this isn’t a picnic in the woods. I ache in so many p
As I stand running a hand through my hair in the girls section of Walmart, I realize my decision to have River stay with the girls, was a hasty one and I’m clueless and so far out of my element. My cousin would have been much better at this task, seeing as Riv has a little sister, my cousin Lark, whose ten now. I know nothing about girls clothes or sizes. And now I’m regretting my decision to leave him to watch over the Cross girls all because I didn’t want to be left alone with my mate. She’s the most intimidating, perceptive, and terrifying creature I’ve ever met. And she is all of eleven, weighs less than an unsheared sheep, and is very, very human. If my pack knew, I would never hear the end of it.Our hunter band left the vehicles in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour big box store where they’d be unlikely to get towed. That would be some serious explaining to do if our rides got searched and we’d likely wind up on some terrorist watch list. Not that a werewolf can stay in pri