Fifty.

Zane

Harlow’s men hadn’t been wrong when they said nothing was here. It was like a ghost town. Every house had seen better days. Many had broken windows, tiles missing from their roofs and doors hanging off their hinges.

Harlow leads me through the tall grass towards the packhouse. “I’m not sure what you are expecting to find, Zane.” He lets out a deep sigh and eyes up the large, very square packhouse.

Fallen leaves and dirt covered the steps that lead up to the house, the wooden roof of the porch had rotted through. Weeds had control of the path between us. If there was someone here, they didn't want anyone to know.

“It doesn’t matter what I am expecting to find. Now lead the way.”

He rolls his eyes at me, trudging through the overgrowth like it was a jungle. His hand hovers over the door handle. “I haven’t been here since…”

“I know. You have already said. So time to get a grip and pull on your big girl knickers.” I was quickly losing patience. How the hell he had made it as an Alpha