Page 25 of Ravaged Wolf
“You Munroe?” my guard asks.
The older male nods. “This him?” he asks, his ice blue eyes narrowing with contempt as he looks me up and down.
My guard grunts.
“Does Madog want him dead?”
“He didn’t say that. He said leave him here.”
Munroe sniffs. “I guess he works behind a desk?” His lip curls with derision.
My guard shakes his head. “He’s low rank. He’s in facilities. Some kind of mechanic.”
Munroe takes a second look at me. “What kind of mechanic?”
He’s asking me, but even if I wanted to answer, I can’t speak. My throat is too tight, my tongue too thick, and every word I know is a scream.
“He fixes shit,” my guard volunteers. “Supposedly, he’s good at it.”
“That right? You fix shit?” Munroe asks.
No. I fuck shit up beyond repair. I destroy lives. I hurt the people I love. I should be put down.
“He don’t talk?” Munroe snorts. “He’s got that going for him, I guess.”
“We good?” my guard asks, clearly done with the conversation. The driver didn’t even get out of the van. It’s clear they don’t like being on foreign pack territory.
“I guess so.”
My guard doesn’t need to be told twice. He hops into the van’s passenger seat, and they pull off, tires squealing.
The three of us are left alone, staring at each other. The young male breaks the silence.
“What did he do?” he asks.
“His female and her people wouldn’t let him mount her,” Munroe says. “So he went into rut and attacked her.”
“Why the fuck would they do that?” The young male glares at me like he’s trying to see what’s so wrong with me, but he’s not going to be able to see the weakness from the outside.
Munroe jaw tightens. “Who knows why those fuckers at Moon Lake do anything they do. They wear suits and sit at desks all day, trying to figure out new ways to sniff human ass. I tell you this, though, he should’ve put that bitch on her hands and knees as soon as he scented her. He wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t listened to a female. The minute you give them an iota of power, they will stab you in theback. Every single time. Mark my words, Leith. Every single fucking time.”
My wolf growls atput that bitch on her hands and knees, but he’s too deep down for anyone but me to hear. The talk turns my stomach—all of it does—but if I could speak, what would I say? Ishouldhave taken her away. I should’ve made the decision she couldn’t make. I was weak and wrong, and she is paying.
Leith nods as if Munroe is only telling him something he already knows. “What are we going to do with him?”
“He can fix shit. We’ll drop him at the Camerons.”
“Increase their numbers?” The young male questions his elder like he has the right, and Munroe lets him.
“That wolf’s no fighter,” Munroe sneers. “If he was, he wouldn’t be here.”
Without waiting for a response, he turns and begins the hike back through the rusted, leaning gates and up the rutted dirt road leading to the collection of squat concrete building and dilapidated clapboard houses that cluster along the river flowing down the mountain.
Leith stares at me. “You can run if you want,” he says. “I won’t chase you. The ferals will get you by dawn if you stay in one place and make some noise.” His tone is light, and his eyes are dead.
Then he turns and follows Munroe.
Behind me, in the wilderness that sprawls in all directions, unearthly howls rise as if Leith summoned them.
