Page 129 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

Chapter 8

Jace

Morning broke with a beautiful sunrise, but my heart was heavy. As nice as the day looked it would be, I couldn’t be at ease. Too many stressful things were happening today. Kirsten, Harley, and Tinsley were still asleep, having been up until nearly three in the morning. When I’d finally come home just after midnight, they were still chatting and laughing. Kirsten’s eyes had lit up when she saw me, and her warm smile had lifted my spirits. Maybe I hadn’t screwed things up too much after all.

Now I sat, sipping coffee, waiting for the others to arrive. It was a big day. Reese was bringing the county coroner up, and Abigail, Langston, and Waylan would be joining us to discuss the shifter who’d attacked the house. After that, the surrounding alphas in the area would arrive. Today was the day I informed them that I was challenging Eren. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had my plate so full as alpha.

Abigail and Reese arrived first, pulling up my driveway. The coroner, Raymond Fowler, was in the backseat of Abigail’s car. A few moments later, Waylan and Langston came trotting out of the forest, shifting into their human forms as they approached the house.

“Morning,” I called as Abigail and Reese got out of the car.

“Hey,” they said in unison.

From the rear, Raymond extricated himself and walked toward me. The man was human, but handled all deaths in both shifter and human communities in the county. He understood pack dynamics and the need for meetings like this.

“Hello, Jace,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Raymond. Sorry this had to be so early, but I wanted to discuss it as soon as possible, and I’ve got a busy day.”

He shrugged it off. “No problem. Just means I can get my day going a bit quicker. Who knows, I might punch out early, get in nine holes of golf this afternoon.”

I smiled grimly at him. “Sounds better than how my day’s gonna go.”

We all took seats on the porch.

“How’s it going with identifying the wolf?” I asked.

Raymond adjusted himself in the rocking chair and shook his head. “Langston helped me get the body back to the forensic center, and I did what I could, but there’s been no luck. With him remaining in his wolf form after death, I can’t identify anything.” He gave me a pointed look. “You know as well as I do there’s nothing about the wolf body we can use to make a connection.”

“What about the nose?” Waylan asked. “Wolf and dog nose prints are as distinct as fingerprints in humans.”

“Yes,” Raymond said. “This is true, but there’s no database with shifter nose prints like there is for fingerprints. Both humans and shifters have their prints logged, but nothing like that exists for nose prints. There was some legislation put forth a few years ago, but several shifter senators shot it down on the grounds that it infringed on their autonomy as creatures who stand outside the normal laws of physics. Plus, it is very rare for a shifter not to shift back to their human form after death. It’s always been a non-issue.

“We could do a blood test,” he suggested. “That could possibly give us a hit. Problem is the state has to run those, and they’re always backed up on stuff like this. Could take weeks to get an ID, and that’s if their DNA is logged in a system somewhere, which is not a guarantee.”

“Damn,” I hissed. “That’s too long. In a month, this will all be over. Hopefully. Any other possibilities?”

“The markings and colorings don’t ring a bell, either,” Langston offered. “When I search that, too much comes up. Though, that’s not surprising. Coloring and markings aren’t as distinct as fingerprints. There could be dozens of shifters within a hundred miles who look similar.”

“Maybe this is what Eren wanted?” Abigail suggested. “Maybe he sent the wolves here on, like, a suicide mission. If they succeed? Great. If not? Then we can’t figure out who they are and he’s still off the hook. No one can point to him being the culprit.”

“But the wolf smelled of his pack,” I said. “That alone would be enough for us to connect him to the attack.”

“Not necessarily,” Waylan said. “Just because he smelled like Eren’s pack doesn’t mean he belonged to Eren’s pack.”

“What do you mean? Was this guy a captive or something?”

“I’m not as well-versed in shifting as you all,” Raymond said. “Could you capture someone and then force them to shift? Somehow make them stay like that until they go mad? And then, if they’d gone feral, how would you control them? Wouldn’t they bolt into the wilderness as soon as you set them loose?”

I shared a look with the rest of my council, but none of us offered any information. How would Eren do that?

“Raymond, is there anything else about the body we should know?” I asked.

He shook his head and took his glasses off to wipe them. “Not really. I’ve informed the local police, as is procedure.” He gave me a wry grin. “Though, as always, they consider this a shifter problem and want nothing to do with it.”

“All right, then.” I stood and shook his hand again. “Thanks for coming up. I hate that I dragged you out here for nothing.”

“It’s not a problem. Glad to help all I can.”

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