24. Deacon

After the questioning is completed, they allow us to shift and run our wolves. Leadership understands putting a bunch of testosterone-filled Alphas together is tenuous at best, but not allowing us to run our wolves is a recipe for disaster.

Two of the guards explain the boundaries and remind us of the rules about attacking other cadets.

Sure, the other cadets aren't worth bonus points.

With my reputation, I do not doubt that the target is clearly on my back. Thankfully, I also know most of these cadet's wolves are no match for mine.

Most senior Alphas leading packs don't have a wolf that would have the ability to beat me. These undisciplined and minimally trained cadets wouldn't have a chance against me one-on-one.

And there lies the actual threat. Strength in numbers.

Avoiding the main path, my wolf trots south, weaving between the trunks. My mind wanders while he controls our run, finding scent trails to chase while avoiding the other cadets. The quiet makes me miss Grace. Chasing her through our territory was my favorite pastime. While her wolf wasn't comparable to mine in strength or size, she was nimble and deceptively fast. Her smaller stature benefitted her in choosing routes I couldn't follow.

Cutting around a large rock outcropping, I tail a ground squirrel. My paws push hard into the packed frozen ground, propelling me faster. As I dance over a few larger boulders, I hear low conversation coming from ahead, which pulls my focus.

My wolf slows, hiding downwind to avoid the people catching my scent as I eavesdrop.

"Alvarez was a fool. His inability to restrain himself gave away the element of surprise. Now Dieci will know we tried to eliminate him." The whispered words come out in a rush, and I try to identify its owner.

"Taking out the new kid was our best shot at getting him out of here. Marlo's wolf is the strongest here. Beating him in the challenges will be next to impossible." Another voice chimes in.

"Six weeks is a long time. We'll have another opportunity. You all need to calm down. Clark. Kent. Your part starts tomorrow. McCormick, work on the new guy. They looked cozy in formation, but the kid must need alliances." A voice I recognize orders.

Hello, Conner.

Conner Saint was the eldest son of the East Texas Pack—a legacy pack known for financing most of the elections in the LLC. I'm surprised to find him getting his hands dirty, especially when his daddy has paid so much money for his less-than-desirable incidents to be swept under the rug. Rape. Mutilation. Murder. Trafficking.

The irony of the Saint name isn't lost on me.

I"m not sure how I ended up on his radar, but he's a psychopath. I haven't run into him since I was fourteen at a mating retreat my father dragged the pack to in hopes of aligning us with the Saint money. Both he and I were too young to participate in the festivities, but that didn't stop him from having his own party. Using command on local high school kids like they were his entertainment, to the tune of four dead bodies and several more in the ICU.

My wolf growls low, his want to take out the asshole at the forefront, and I move to confront the group, lay eyes on those who believe they have the power to best me.

"What was that?" a female voice asks, causing me to slow my pursuit so I don"t miss the conversation.

"Let's get out of here before someone finds us," Conner whispers quickly, and I hurry, hoping to see their faces before they disperse. The sound of retreating paws follows before I catch even a glimpse, and I attempt to distinguish how many were gathered. Stopping, I hear at least five distinct patterns, all moving away from my location.

Fucking cowards.

Heading back toward the camp, I shift and change back into my discarded clothes before strolling into the barracks, schooling my features to appear to be without a care in the world. Conversations drift my way, but I avoid focusing on anyone and instead plop myself down on my cot, throwing my arms behind my head and crossing my feet at the ankles.

My eyes glance over at Stone's bunk to see he hasn't returned.

Wonder how he did with the adjudication?

My time in that room had been nothing short of exhilarating. I told my story about Alvarez's attack and subsequent elimination honestly, and as it really happened, knowing the bloodsuckers would see the truth anyway. As soon as I saw his lilac irises, I knew they were taking this investigation seriously down at the LLC.

There go all my tall tales…

I sat and allowed him to ask his series of questions, refusing to give any information about myself or anything that danced outside of the purview of the investigation. No, I don't believe you need to know my relationship with Alvarez. He's dead. I didn't kill him. Move on. I also don't see how questions regarding my Awakening, my nickname, or my preparation for this training are relevant to the matter at hand.

Nosy bastards.

When Alexander moved to verify my version of events, I allowed my eyes to shift, not because I lost control but because I wanted them to be afraid of me. They needed to understand that this interview was happening because I was allowing it and for no other reason.

What I hadn't anticipated was the complete lack of tension from the vamp. His smirk made his eyes dance with interest, his expression revealing his intentions. I was like a toy he wanted to play with.

Hard pass.

Stickman reacted exactly as planned and got in my face. It's not my fault the cold hands made me throw my head forward, busting his lip open and causing him to swing on me. I was merely protecting myself when I caught his fist in midair, my claw shifting out and slicing open his knuckles.

Whoopsie daisy.

"Oh, I love a good A positive. Are there cups?" Alaric's comment broke the tension immediately, his head scanning the room, but damn if the fear that flashed in Rodriguez's one good eye wasn't just what I wanted.

Any. Fucking. Time.

My wolf growls, squeezing the fist hard enough to force more blood to spill before I release him, a fake apology spilling out with my laugh.

"Terribly sorry, Twigman. Reflexes and all," I cough out, shrugging as I relax back, enjoying how his neck turns crimson as his fury builds. My eyes meet Alexander's amethyst set, silent understanding passing between us.

He nods, amusement shining from his face as his hands slide to my temples. The memory flash happened quickly, and he made no additional comment before dismissing me to the hallway beyond and the guards who gave me the shifting rules and allowed me out.

"Hey, Marlo," a female voice interrupts my inner dialogue, causing my gaze to shift her way.

Megan Clark.

My expression stays neutral despite the urge to snarl at her after what I heard in the woods, and I don't waste my energy responding.

What exactly is your angle, bitch?

"I heard you would be joining us. It's been what? Two years? How've you been?" she asks, crossing her arms in an effort to accentuate her chest, after flipping her obnoxiously long platinum blonde hair out of the way. I don't take the bait.

"Just peachy."

"I'm so glad to hear it. My dad was talking about reaching out to your pack so we can host another retreat since so many of us are turning eighteen this year," she prattles on, losing none of her enthusiasm despite my short and monotone responses. "Your birthday is coming up, right?"

"Your point?"

"Oh, it's just cool to think about. The fact that we all will be able to find our mates soon. My birthday isn't until…" I tune out the annoyingly bubbly sound of her voice, focusing instead on the fluttering of the thin skin at her jugular and calculating how long it will take her to bleed out if I tear it out.

"... but I'm not sure if I'll get to fly home from our apprenticeships because apparently it"s against the rules, but my dad is going to call Alpha Rodriguez. He knows him from the LLC Committee meetings…" She continues before being interrupted by a voice I recognize.

"I'd imagine sticking to the rules isn't a concept you"re too familiar with," Stone interrupts, causing Megan to snap her mouth shut and glare at him.

"And who are you? Scholarship kid? Seems they'll let just anyone in these days." The disgust in her expression looks like she smells something rancid as she attempts to get me to agree with her, which I do.

My eyes flip to Stone, repeating her words, but with a completely different context.

"Oh, they just let anyone in these days," my tone drips with sarcasm, and Stone smirks at the obvious dig to our dippy chatterbox friend who completely misses the insult, smiling like she won something.

"Be careful, D. I know they forced you to be with the charity case, but alliances are important, and he has nothing he can offer you here." Her look is sympathetic as she turns on her heel, floating back to her bunk halfway down the aisle on the opposite side, rejoining her shadow Veronica.

Stone's jaw flexes as he works through that statement.

"Thanks for helping with pest control. I owe you one," I say, meaning it honestly.

"No sweat, Dieci," he says, turning to his bunk, his defenses firmly in place.

"Dieci is the reputation that proceeds me. I prefer my friends to call me Deacon." I say, reaching into my bag to get my notebook so I can write Grace.

Another day closer to our forever.

I love you, Tails.