Page 1 of Blood Pack Beginning

PROLOGUE

Fingers draggedacross the surface of the vertical glass tank, the liquid within the deep burgundy of a finely aged wine. However, this fluid would never be found in a corked bottle. A pity, since only the finest vintage of blood had been used. Only the best would do.

A hint of movement within the enclosed capsule gave hope and led to a whispered, “Soon, my love. Soon we shall be together.”

Regeneration took time, especially with grievous wounds. However, there were ways of speeding up the process. Hence the need for only the most rare and delicious of blood.

A whisper in the mind hinted of hunger, indicating a need to refresh the contents of the tank.

“Patience. A fresh supply shall be arriving momentarily.” Acquiring subjects who would donate to the tank had become slightly more challenging, as those being hunted now took more precautions.

The brief moment of connection faded. At least they’d been happening more often of late.

Long strides brought them from the vault protecting the tank. It clanged shut behind and hissed as it sealed. No chanceswould be taken, for death had already come much too close to the one cherished above all.

The many barriers, installed to protect, opened and shut behind with but a thought. No key existed for these portals by design. Only those accompanied and with permission could enter. The servants used to perform maintenance didn’t retain any memories of their chores. None could know, not until the time was ripe.

Rising to a level above brought them to the preparation area where they collected the precious and necessary blood. Or would have collected, if not for the empty cages. The last of the subjects had been drained. Soon, though, new donors would fill those spots. They’d sacrifice the ripest among them to the tank, while those who lacked the right kind of richness to their blood would be put to other use.

Past the blood collection chamber, they entered the transformation wing, also sitting empty, the last of the latent Lycans either transformed or dead. The process to change them had proven tricky. The torture protocol hadn’t been difficult to conduct. Even better, the enjoyment found in making the subjects scream and plead for a mercy that wouldn’t be forthcoming. It was the other element of the transformation recipe that had been more elusive. The transformation required pain, that of the body and soul, as well as a true mating to activate a latent’s dormant wolf.Many dormants failed to make the transition, not because they didn’t scream in agony but more because the true mates of the latents proved difficult to find.

Hence why, unlike Morpheus, they expanded their scope. While dormants would still be acquired, it was time for the Lycans to also do their part. Already some thralls, their minds initially captured by Morpheus and Roderick, remained nestled amongst some of the packs. Working from within, their subtle treachery moving the plan forward.

Those that didn’t feed the tank would grow the army that would soon be unleashed upon the world, starting a war neither Lycan nor humanity suspected—or could stop.

The time for living in the shadows had passed, even as many on the vampire council refused to accept this new truth. Fools. It would seem in the centuries they’d spent buried in their dark prison they’d learned nothing. The explosion of social media and cameras capturing every event of people’s lives made keeping the secret of vampires and Lycans next to impossible, so might as well force the revelation and get it over and done with.

If all went according to plan, though, there would be no repeat of the era where pitchfork and torch-wielding peons hunted nonhumans almost to extinction. The mundane that multiplied like roaches might have access to weaponry and greater numbers, but it would take only a few key players in government to hamstring any attempt at defense.

A scuffing approach had them whirling. Shadows gathered as a cloak to cover them head to toe.

The young man who entered sniffed and looked around before calling out. “Master?”

The shadows were released to reveal their presence. “What do you want?”

The groveling dog, barely more than a pup, threw themselves prostrate at their feet and, with face pressed to the floor, reported, “The hunters have reached the town of Moon Dew.”

As planned but obviously something had gone amiss. “What is the issue?”

“One of them is questioning your orders.”

That raised a brow. It would seem one of the conscripted Lycans pushed against the command planted in their mind. “And what do we do with a disobedient dog?”

The boy shuddered before whispering, “They will be handled.”

A crouch brought them close to the quivering pup. “Do you have an issue with my order?”

“No, Master.”

“Good. Now, run along and ensure my command is carried out. I expect to see the cages full by morning.”

“Yes, Master.” The young rogue scampered off. Obedient and eager to please. The young were always so much easier to turn. Mature men, often set in their stubborn ways, fought hardest against the vampire control placed upon them. Their ability to resist, though, made them still necessary. Children, while much more malleable, lacked the strength and skill of their elders. Not to mention, the youngest and most trainable were still needed by the beloved.

Such a shame they’d been harder to acquire of late, as the dog packs rallied and closed ranks. While they didn’t understand the true nature of their foe, they grasped the threat, unlike the dormants. That ostracized and banished group had no warning. No pack to protect them. Even better, some of latents had chosen to gather into their own communities, such as the one in Moon Dew. How kind of them to cluster in one place for the culling that was about to come.

It wouldn’t be long before humans and Lycans alike began to realize something was amiss, but by then, it would be too late. Once darkness consumed the world, there would be only two choices left.

Serve, or die.

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