XXIV

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"Do you think we're safe here?" I asked Roman in a small voice.

We were at the site of Uncle Victor's latest project, the mending of an old bell tower and everyone had left knocked off already.

I had stayed behind to keep Roman company. He was in charge of transporting any left over equipment.

I sat in the passenger seat of his truck swinging my legs out of the open door. I had a notebook and pen in my hands because I was supposed to be writing a report for my English class on 'The Little Red Riding Hood'. The most hated book around here. Go figure.

But I got easily distracted as I watched Roman load up another tool box.

"Safe where?" He asked. "As in here in Woodfell?"

He had taken off his outer shirt leaving him with a wifebeater on underneath.

Sweat glittered on his face and I couldn't help but stare at his toned arms as he worked.

"Yeah." I responded. "The war wasn't that long ago. Don't you get scared sometimes? About what could happen if one of the defeated packs decided to rise against us?"

Roman closed the back of the truck seemingly done with loading up everything important.

"Have you been watching that creepy apocalyptic show again?" He asked as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm serious, Ro."

He walked towards me and placed himself in between my legs.

"The war is over, babe." He spoke.

I looked into his stormy grey eyes and couldn't help but wonder which of his parents he had gotten them from.

I had never asked because I knew it wasn't something he would want to talk about.

"Why are you so worried about a potential doomsday now anyway?" He chuckled.

I shrugged. "Everyone is talking about the unrest with the Reece pack."

There were rumours going around that the Reece pack was threatening to breach the Werewolf Union terms agreements and attack Silvercrest if Tristan didn't increase their rations.

"The Reece pack's alpha is a lazy freeloader. If he's so tired of getting rations from this pack, he should find a way to feed his own." Roman scoffed.

"And as for attacking us," he reached forward and picked up his bag from the floor of the truck. He rummaged in it until he took out a small square box.

He opened the box and took out a thin white strip with what looked like black stickers on it.

"What's that?" I asked curiously.

"I'm actually not supposed to be showing you this but they're called surveillance patches." He explained turning over the strip with the three black circles. "We're learning how to use them in AAP training. They're still in development but I could put one of these on your backpack or on the walls of your room and I'd be able to not only track your location but hear everything you say on an appropriate device."

I took the strip away from Roman and studied it carefully. I was intrigued by the thing, wondering how something so small could possibly do such advanced stuff.

"So you're telling me we spy on other packs?" I asked incredulously. So many questions on morality sprung up.

Roman took the strip away from me and carefully placed it back into the box.

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