Unmarked Mates

Chapter 3: "A journey of thousand miles begins with a single step"

Mae's bar above

Terry POV

I finish collecting empty glasses, it's late, and it's high time to close the bar.

The last customers slowly leave as I wipe down the counter clean. Another typical day is over. But I won't be lying that my current situation doesn't make me content. I got used to here; I got used to a daily routine, daily everyday problems like supplying, bills, persistent customers, small talk, and Mae's preaching. I got used especially to being around her; I guess I can now call her a friend.

Although everybody thinks that I'm her nephew, the first time I called her Aunty Mae, it was meant to be a joke, but somehow it came so naturally that I haven't called her differently for the last ten years, and she seems to like it too. I guess we get fond of each other companions, and it's no longer because we don't have anybody else in the house.

Peaceful silence is the thing I have found here, and I won't be lying in saying that I like it. I like that all my days look the same, I like Aunty Mae's beckon and eggs, I like that Doggy got fat, I like that I haven't made anybody bleed for so long, I'm glad that I don't kill anymore for living.

Although my memories are still there, the shadows of the past keep haunting me. After all, I was born a hunter, my grandfather was a leader of our clan, my father was a bounty hunter targeting werewolves, and I was a hunter for almost ten years. Not only a hunter but also the heir to the clan.

I was a trained killer, and I have much on my consciousness, which will never change. The hate was so long in control of me. Since the day the band of rogues killed my parents in front of me, I let it grow, and I was proud of it. I believed it had made me strong, but now I'm unsure if I have ever been strong. I lost my sister because of my hate.

Among all who killed alongside me, my uncle Jordan was the cruelest. My father was a killer, but he was a clean killer, but my uncle Jordan was a crazy sadist. He loved breaking his victims, making them beg for death, doesn't matter if it was a man, a woman, or a child, as long as it was a werewolf. I did things under his guidance, things I will never forget, no matter what. For the first couple of months here, I was sure I would be recognized by someone and killed sooner or later, and yet Aunty Mae was right; I was forgotten. Terry Nightingale, once the feared hunter of his clan, was forgotten. Nightingales, once the feared hunter clan, was erased ten years ago and was forgotten; hunters, in general, seemed to be forgotten in this part of the country.

Sometimes I think about my sister; I wonder if she has forgotten me too. I know she is happy with that mutt she has chosen because Aunty Mae has some connection with Howl Pack, and they are the allies of the Black Moon Pack where Celia and her mate, the Beta, live so she can obtain some info for me from time to time very discreetly.

It's already been ten years, but honestly, I doubt I will ever see my sister, niece, or even Danny again. Well, the best I can do for their lives is to not take part in it anyway, so I guess it's alright how it is.

I hear minor scratches at the back of the bar where I left trash and something else a few minutes ago. It is back again, and it makes me a little worried. I spotted the animal around a week ago digging into our dumpsters. At first, I thought it was a normal wolf because it was skinny and small. It looked starved and scared, so I took pity and threw some meat, and it took it a run. It returned the next day and the next, so I had time to take a proper look.

Through the last few years, I have seen rogues passing by, but they have never stayed long because Howl Pack is famous for not being too fond of rogues in general. But that one rogue has been staying here already for so long and seems to be in its wolf form all the time, which is very uncommon. Rogues usually travel and live in their human form, trying to blend into society as much as possible, using their wolf form to feed, attack, or protect themselves, and they usually aren't that small and vulnerable; if they are, they die quickly. So I know something is wrong because if it is still here, it means that, for whatever reason, it can't leave.