Wereology

№21|International Phone Calls

Barron growled, clenching his fist. Medusa rolled her eyes, “he’s in a box, hun, he can’t hurt me. Even if he did, I could take him.”

“I know you can.” He smiled up at her. “I just don’t want you to get infected.”

“There’s a box surrounding him, Barron.” She reminded him before blowing him a kiss, “I’ll see you later, my love.”

With that, Medusa walked out of the room. Barron sighed, dialing the first number.

Somewhere in Mainland China, the phone began to ring. Golden medium tanned callused hands wrapped around the phone, “hello?” a manly voice replied, his lips curling around a piece of sushi.

“Yes is this,” Barron looked at the caller list, “Ambrocio Zhao? Alpha of the Zhao pack?”

“Speaking,” his voice grew serious, “is something the matter.”

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve been having trouble with the recent Fury Virus-”

“You know my Luna got infected by that.” Ambrocio clenched his cup of sake, “I haven’t seen her in two months. Do you know what it’s like to have to watch your Luna writhe in pain and not be able to do anything about it? Do you?”

“No sir, I barely found my mate this year-”

“So you don't know what it’s like to watch the person you love throw herself against a box cause he mind can’t comprehend any other emotion other than rage? Do you know what it’s like to have you and your mate be divided by a thick box of plexiglass? Do you?”

“I don't, sir…”

“Then why are you calling me, Whiteclad?” Ambrocio growled, the cup began to crack.

“Sir, I’m calling a summit to inform all the wolf packs of the information we have on the virus.”

“What information do you North American wolves have that us Asian wolves don’t?” Ambrocio scoffed.

“We have Patient Zero.”

“As in-”

“Yes, the first carrier of the Fury Virus.”

Ambrocio snarled deeply, the cup in his hands shattering, “you have the person who started this?”

“That’s correct, alpha.” 

“The Zhao pack will be there.” Ambrocio said before hanging up. He slammed his fist on the table “this darn North American wolves! Of course one of them would start this… they always do stupid stuff like this.”

His anger began to reside when his daughter peaked her head into the room, “is everything alright, bàba? (dad)”

She had beautiful medium golden skin and pale midnight blue eyes. Her jet midnight blue, almost black, hair was pinned up into a ponytail as the rest flowed freely down her back.

“Yes, Dechen, I’m fine,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “just some alpha stuff, don’t worry about it.”