Patricia looked equal parts pale, frustrated and scared.
"Please don't kill him, Alpha," she chose to plead first and later she would put Wilder to his senses. The priority was to save the boy. She didn't want Wilder to get killed. Yet.
Arthur scoffed. He would never kill a pack member. He knows what being an Alpha entails. His duty was to protect, provide and procreate. The sight of the young man lying in bed was making his blood boil and his temper rise. I must leave before my wolf decides to come forth.
"I will not. I am not a killer unlike him."
Patricia's eyebrows reached her hairline as her eyes followed the back of fuming Arthur. The Alpha's absence shifted her focus back to the pressing matter. Her eyes turned towards Wilder. Keeping her sharp gaze on him, she questioned harshly – "What the fuck did he mean by that?"
Wilder shrugged innocently. Patricia knew better than to believe him out of all people. He was always the culprit.
"Do not test my patience, Wilder. What did you do to him?"
The man in question rolled his eyes and answered with a lot of attitude – "I did nothing! Maybe someone spat in his food in the morning."
At her wit's end, she pulled her hair before releasing a long breath. "We will talk about what you did to him later. In detail. For now, let the doctor see to your injuries."
Wilder's eyes darkened. "No."
"Yes."
"NO!"
She cannot exactly force him to do anything but there was someone who could.
Seeing Carson still hovering over the door, she called for his attention. "Go to the Alpha office, take Grey's cabin's number from the black leather diary in the second drawer and call Phineas. Tell him it's Wilder."
Pacing will not help, Arthur realized after doing it for the past few minutes but he could not bring himself to care. He was very angry. Maybe breaking a piece of furniture or two would help. However, he was not that sort of person and he would never change that because of someone like Wilder.
"Alpha?"
"Yes, come in please."
"I need the phone number diary from your desk's drawer. May I?"
Arthur moved his hand in a go-ahead motion. Carson shuffled to the desk and in no time was dialing Phineas Grey.
"Phinny, hey."
"..."
"Yes, I am fine. You?"
Arthur was more agitated than before Carson's arrival. He was using the office phone to chit-chat with friends. How unprofessional? About to interrupt he fell quiet when he heard Wilder's name come up.
"He is sort of bruised and with Dr Harry. Do you think you could come here real quick?"
"..."
"How bruised? Uh...not much? Please come immediately though."
"..."
"See you. Bye."
"Who is Phinny now?"
Carson jumped at the voice. He didn't think the Alpha was paying any attention to him. Arthur was one scary person, he must admit.
"Phineas Grey."
"The father?"
"The brother."
Arthur nodded once and fell silent. Carson took the silence as his cue to leave; his work in the Alpha office was done.
Protecting Wilder even as a pack member was filling the Alpha with rage. He did not want to protect a killer. The kid murdered his brother, for Luna's sake! The world needs saving from people like Wilder, not the other way around.
Arthur undid the latch on his office window and jumped outside, shifting mid-air. He needed to cool down before he took drastic measures like throwing the kid in the pack's cell or worse - mauling him to death with his razor-sharp teeth and claws.
People moved out of his way as he passed them, his heavy, angry steps a warning to stay away. He did not want to make such an impression on his pack members when they already did not trust him, yet here he was doing the very thing. Only this once, he promised himself. He was allowed to feel this way at least once for his brother was lying six feet under. Although he was certain the boy would test his patience time upon time, he would not let his anger get the best of him. Practice makes a man perfect and he has the will to practice patience.
Picking up speed, he ran faster, zooming past the trees and stopping at the edge of a cliff finally. How far have I come? I do not remember a cliff within miles of the Blackwater pack. The top of the cliff overlooked a deeper forest than what his land holds. Not a piece of land was visible anywhere among the trees. It was very quiet, not even a bird was singing nor a cricket chirping. No sound, as if he was the last man roaming the Earth. The solitude was almost akin to peace there. Almost. Werewolves cannot stay without packs. They go rogue and eventually rabid and crazy, that is not the definition of peace. Peace lay with the pack and family. Adrian was family. Before the past could consume him fully, he turned and sprinted back to the pack. To his new family.