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Authors: Marcy Jacks
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the reason for Rhyan’s blanching face.
“All of them?” he asked. “He was buried together with the rest of those people? They killed him! Why would you put them together?”
“They weren’t put in the same grave.”
Blasius turned at the new voice that had unexpectedly added itself
to their conversation.
Tristan, that omega werewolf that Blasius had seen around on the odd occasion, was practically hiding half of his body behind the side of one of the cottages, as though attempting to keep out of Blasius’s sight.
Blasius understood his fear. He had to be told the story from another werewolf after his confusion continued to mount over the
behavior of the young wolf.
The body that Blasius currently inhabited, an alpha wolf formerly
Taken by the Alpha Wolf 53
named Deacon, had once attempted to force the omega into becoming a part of his harem, and would have succeeded had the boy’s mate, a hunter of all people, not come to his rescue before the initiation could
commence.
Before Blasius had been annoyed when the omega had avoided him, even after nearly every other werewolf on the land had begun to warm up to Blasius’s presence. Then he heard that and understood. He’d left the omega alone, not so much as coming to him to make innocent conversation.
Blasius would not wish to be near a man who looked so much like
an alpha who had attempted to do such things to him either. If he ever met another wolf, human, hunter, or any such creature who resembled the alpha responsible for Rhyan’s death, he knew without any doubt that he would kill the man.
Yet now Tristan was here, attempting to help Blasius as he struggled with the odd moods of his mate.
“What do you know of this?” Blasius asked.
“I was one of the men put in charge of burying the bodies,” Tristan replied, hesitantly stepping out for them to see.
Blasius’s brows came together. “And odd activity for an omega.”
“Who cares?” Rhyan said, stepping closer to Tristan. “Can you take me to where he is?”
Tristan nodded. “Yeah, follow me.”
Tristan turned and began walking toward the northern side of the land and then behind the alpha’s house.
Blasius had no need for any sort of invitation to go along with them. He was Rhyan’s mate, and in charge of his safety in these dangerous times, so of course he would follow as well.
That did not stop him from being angered that Rhyan had not so much as asked for Blasius to accompany him.
They walked into the trees, the hill sloping as they traveled. Blasius could hear the steady thump of Rhyan’s heart, especially as the sound got to be louder and louder.
54 Marcy Jacks
Something was making his mate act this way. The closer it was they came to the grave of the human, the more frantic Rhyan’s heart became.
Then they were on the spot. There was naught there to give away that any bodies were buried in this area aside from the scent of recently turned earth. Even new small plants had been placed to give the illusion that there was nothing amiss.
To human eyes, anyway. Blasius could still tell the difference.
Rhyan’s senses were still improving, and he searched around the area, inhaling deeply through his nose. He could smell the turned earth but could not see that the graves were right at his feet, it seemed.
“Where is he?” Rhyan demanded.
“That’s the grave of the hunters, right there,” Tristan said, pointing to the spot just in front of Rhyan’s feet in the center of the clearing.
Rhyan stepped back when he realized was he was nearly standing upon. “Jesus Christ!” he cursed.
Then he stepped forward again, staring at the place where Tristan had pointed, the ferns and small shrubs and new weeds poking out of the earth hiding the grave quit well without making it too obvious that someone was attempting to hide something.
“You
“All of them?” he asked. “He was buried together with the rest of those people? They killed him! Why would you put them together?”
“They weren’t put in the same grave.”
Blasius turned at the new voice that had unexpectedly added itself
to their conversation.
Tristan, that omega werewolf that Blasius had seen around on the odd occasion, was practically hiding half of his body behind the side of one of the cottages, as though attempting to keep out of Blasius’s sight.
Blasius understood his fear. He had to be told the story from another werewolf after his confusion continued to mount over the
behavior of the young wolf.
The body that Blasius currently inhabited, an alpha wolf formerly
Taken by the Alpha Wolf 53
named Deacon, had once attempted to force the omega into becoming a part of his harem, and would have succeeded had the boy’s mate, a hunter of all people, not come to his rescue before the initiation could
commence.
Before Blasius had been annoyed when the omega had avoided him, even after nearly every other werewolf on the land had begun to warm up to Blasius’s presence. Then he heard that and understood. He’d left the omega alone, not so much as coming to him to make innocent conversation.
Blasius would not wish to be near a man who looked so much like
an alpha who had attempted to do such things to him either. If he ever met another wolf, human, hunter, or any such creature who resembled the alpha responsible for Rhyan’s death, he knew without any doubt that he would kill the man.
Yet now Tristan was here, attempting to help Blasius as he struggled with the odd moods of his mate.
“What do you know of this?” Blasius asked.
“I was one of the men put in charge of burying the bodies,” Tristan replied, hesitantly stepping out for them to see.
Blasius’s brows came together. “And odd activity for an omega.”
“Who cares?” Rhyan said, stepping closer to Tristan. “Can you take me to where he is?”
Tristan nodded. “Yeah, follow me.”
Tristan turned and began walking toward the northern side of the land and then behind the alpha’s house.
Blasius had no need for any sort of invitation to go along with them. He was Rhyan’s mate, and in charge of his safety in these dangerous times, so of course he would follow as well.
That did not stop him from being angered that Rhyan had not so much as asked for Blasius to accompany him.
They walked into the trees, the hill sloping as they traveled. Blasius could hear the steady thump of Rhyan’s heart, especially as the sound got to be louder and louder.
54 Marcy Jacks
Something was making his mate act this way. The closer it was they came to the grave of the human, the more frantic Rhyan’s heart became.
Then they were on the spot. There was naught there to give away that any bodies were buried in this area aside from the scent of recently turned earth. Even new small plants had been placed to give the illusion that there was nothing amiss.
To human eyes, anyway. Blasius could still tell the difference.
Rhyan’s senses were still improving, and he searched around the area, inhaling deeply through his nose. He could smell the turned earth but could not see that the graves were right at his feet, it seemed.
“Where is he?” Rhyan demanded.
“That’s the grave of the hunters, right there,” Tristan said, pointing to the spot just in front of Rhyan’s feet in the center of the clearing.
Rhyan stepped back when he realized was he was nearly standing upon. “Jesus Christ!” he cursed.
Then he stepped forward again, staring at the place where Tristan had pointed, the ferns and small shrubs and new weeds poking out of the earth hiding the grave quit well without making it too obvious that someone was attempting to hide something.
“You
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