The Lost Wolf

CHAPTER TEN

Val was slowly walking to practice. They were supposed to meet Zack before school and she had a feeling she was going to get lectured again.

Daphne had gone full berserk on her the previous night, and she was mentally drained. Round two with Zack wouldn't help.

Usually, she would stare down to avoid the weird looks she'd receive. Most people stopped as time passed and it got clear that she was a werewolf, but she could still feel the persistent stares of a few.

Not today.

This time everyone's attention was cast elsewhere.

What happened at that lake shook the pack at its core. Apparently, the attacks had never been this frequent, and never so severe. Warriors would die from time to time but the scouts would always spot the rogues before they got too close to the rest of the pack.

But according to Zack, there wasn't just one attack, there were two. The scouts sniffed out a group of four wolves at the other edge of the packs' territory and they attacked. They managed to take them down without any casualties but were too late to track the ones at the lake.

Now they had doubled both the scouts and the shifts.

Wolves, vampires, witches: they would all come to Zack for answers. Since Alpha dearest wasn't there to calm everyone, that burden was cast down to the Beta of the pack. Like everything always was.

What sort of Alpha ignored his pack at a time of need? What kind of an Alpha was he?

Some chose to stay in the safety of their homes while others tried to move on. No one would forget, but if that were enough to tear this pack apart, it would never have existed in the first place. Not this one and not any of the others. At least she hoped so, because she had a feeling they were supposed to stay this time, and the though of the only place she might finally be able to call home being reduced to a desert town had her reeling.

She would see people crying for the lost souls and walking to where she presumed their ashes were to be scattered. The bodies crumbled to dust a little after their death; it was a way to protect their world from humans. And vice versa.

Some fought their emotions out; trained themselves 'till their legs shook and blood loss had them swaying. It wouldn't bring their pups back, but it would keep the wolves from breaking out of their skin. It would keep them from becoming the very thing that killed them.

Zack had said some couldn't handle it. They had to be put down.

She tried to keep her hearing to a human average, but she could still hear them. Weeping, breaking down. Her hands curled into fists.

She hadn't talked much with the others either, and they didn't push her; surely they had their own problems to deal with.

The few scratches the wolves had managed to give them had already healed with no trace of them ever existing. That was a plus, at least.

They all walked into the large space to see Zack glaring daggers at their heads. She thought she saw fur sprout from the back of his head.

"Line up," he grunted. Val saw Sam flinch from her right. They followed his order and waited.

"Do you think this is a joke?" he growled, eyes blazing and feet furiously carrying him back and forth into a straight line. They slowly lowered their heads, baring their throats. Val kept her head high; that beast in her mind cracked an eye open, watching — observing. She would not apologize for wanting to save that girl. "Do you think I told you to stay away for nothing? What would have happened if the scouts hadn't come? If — we — hadn't come!" He moved in front of her.