the feral virus. He could not kill his own mate. He preferred letting Drew go.
In his heart, he’d always known it might come to this. He’d avoided the spirit wolves’ social gatherings for this exact same reason. A mate meant affection, and love automatically brought pain with it.
“I’m sorry,” he told Drew.
Drew shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s quite understandable.”
The pain had morphed into aloofness, and the passionate mate who’d writhed under Valerius turned into the cool doctor. Valerius didn’t know what to think about that. He knew from experience suppressing one’s emotions never brought about anything good.
When they did burst out, they did so with a bang. Case in point, himself, and his near bite of his human mate.
Trent gaped at both of them, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t be serious. Surely you don’t mean to give this up.”
Valerius sighed. He liked Trent’s innocent optimism, but he could not see any other way out of this.
Drew ignored Trent and stared at Valerius, and Valerius had the peculiar sensation of being analyzed under a microscope. Oddly, he found both sides of his mate arousing, and much to his distress, the wolf inside him reemerged, demanding that he break Drew’s façade of control.
But Drew’s next words distracted Valerius from any sensual pursuits. “I have a question,” Drew said. “Under normal circumstances, what would you do with a human who found out about the spirit wolves? I assume this is not the usual treatment he or she receives.”
The cool sarcasm in those words irritated Valerius. True, Drew had every right in the world to be pissed, but Valerius was only trying to do the right thing. He’d thought his mate would understand. He prepared a scathing reply, but it froze on his lips when Drew offered him a sad smile. “Sorry about that. It was uncalled for, and a low blow.”
Valerius shook his head, his heart melting. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s a very stressful situation. But to reply to your question, usually, by now, your memories would have been erased, and those of any others who might have witnessed anything suspicious regarding our nation. Should your location be in any way compromised to the ferals, you’d be relocated and given a new life, a new name, everything.”
Drew gaped at him. “But what of our loved ones, our friends?”
“Your closest kin would be taken along. As for the rest, the usual procedure is to have them all think you died.”
“You can do that?” Trent asked, visibly shocked. “But how? I didn’t think it was even possible.”
Valerius grimaced. Once, he hadn’t thought it possible either. But the abilities of the spirit wolves went way beyond what hunters used for the purpose of finding their prey. “It is a skill I learned for my position as a Judiciary, but theoretically speaking, all spirit wolves can attain it, once they reach a certain age. I don’t recommend it though.”
Trent looked puzzled. “Why not?”
“It’s not…pleasant.” Valerius rubbed his eyes. He’d never shared this with anyone in his life, the burden he’d been forced to carry since taking his current position. He knew he shouldn’t complain. All Judiciaries had the same tasks and responsibilities, but it seemed to Valerius most became immune to the true meaning of what they were doing. Essentially, they were hurting humans, even if the entire purpose of their struggle was to avoid it. Once a Judiciary wiped a human’s memory, the mind never fully recovered. In his heart, that person would always know he’d lost his real identity. Some humans even remembered, too attached to their previous existences for the compulsion to work. On occasion, they ended up in madhouses, rambling about their real selves, fractured between the life that had artificially been inserted and the one they’d actually lived.
Valerius would have preferred to allow them to live on like they had before and just
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