Chapter 1
He crouched low atop the decaying warehouse on 23rd street, eyeing his latest batch of prey. A small group of thugs, dressed in purple and green. If the robbery they were committing wasn’t an actual crime, then the offensive fashions they wore damn sure were.
“Hey boss man, the runts are getting reckless.” rumbled the voice of his most trusted friend and advisor, his beta; Malik Jones.
“You’re breaking my concentration. Tell them to keep scouting on the Upper East side if they want dinner tonight.” Dante barked back in a no nonsense tone.
He loved his pack but they were all a bunch of knuckleheads when he wasn’t around.
“Alright but don’t come crying to me when they start fighting each other because they’re bored. Nothing’s going on with that side of the city.”
“Which is why I keep sending them there and you to the dangerous parts.”
“Now what did I ever do in a past life to deserve such kindness from my dear Alpha.” A brief smile ghosted Dante’s lips. Dante wouldn’t put just anyone on the Lower Westside of Saint City. Only someone he trusted to handle business–someone he knew was tough would be allowed to go.
Scowling at the noise across the street, Dante watched the young punks carry out a tv and gaming system from an apartment. The apartment smelled of mothballs and sweaty gym socks, jasmine and faded gold. An elder and their kin by Dante’s conclusions.Dante couldn’t pick up the faint heartbeat of anyone other than the group of thieves. At least that meant no one was home.
This next part would be easier because of it.
He pulled up his hood and mask, inhaling the familiar leather and metal as he leapt from building to building. His cousins in the mountains had it easy. Forests and mountains to get lost in, hunt to your heart’s content. Those are nice but Saint city? That was his territory, his hunting grounds and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Stealthily landing behind one of the boys, he gently tapped him on the shoulder.
“Huh? What the-”
Night was his best friend as he used the darkness to hide from the boy’s sight as he searched around for the source of touch. One hand to his mouth and nose to muffle, the other around his throat to choke him out. Ten seconds and he was out like a light.
One down, three to go.
The two carrying the flat screen tv were easier targets, though Dante loathed to damage anyone’s property. He opted for a diplomatic approach instead.
“Lower the tv to the ground and no one else gets hurt.” He said from the shadows, body just on the edge of their vision so they could make out his silhouette.
“The fuck–who are you?” they stopped but thankfully did not drop the tv.
“Right now I’m the garbage man. Here. Think this trash is yours.” He tosses them the body of their unconscious friend. Then they drop the tv and immediately reach for their back pockets. Metal? No, plastic. 3D printed guns had flooded his city; a new supplier must have been dealing them out for cheap. Seems like every asshole he came across nowadays was strapped.
The boys pulled out their guns aiming sideways with one hand at Dante.
He sighed, “I really…don’t want to do this the hard way tonight.”
“Ayo, I think I know who this guy is.” One thug spoke quietly to the other, a slight tremble in his wrist.
“Who?” his friend whispered back.
“They call him Dire Wolf on the news. Wolf ears, claws, all that shit. He–”
“Oh word? I can’t believe some cosplayer took out my boy Ricky! The disrespect–”
Beneath his mask, Dante rolled his eyes but let them continue.
“Nah, nah, you’re not hearing me! He–”
The confident one clicked his tongue and released the safety on the gun, aiming at Dante. The white eyes of his mask closed slightly as he eyed the gun, the boy and back.
“It’s rude to cut your friends off. Listen, I’m hella tired tonight. Put all the stuff back and I’ll forget about you all, wolf’s honor.” He taps the pointed tips of his hood.
The one who spun the tale about him put his gun away and started running. Smart.
“Tsk. Whatever. He might be scared of some weirdo, but I ain’t.” He pulled the trigger and missed Dante by a mile, and Dante was a big man at 6 feet 7 and 280 lbs of muscle and grit.
“Okay, no more freebies.”
Dante was big, but he was fast. On the boy within the blink of an eye, he ripped the gun away and crushed it in his hands. Two fingers to the temple sent the punk flying into the brick wall behind him, leaving a person-sized indent.
One left. Would he be smart or foolish?
Dante’s nose crinkled as a horrible stench hit him like a freight train. It smelled worse than baked sewage and pig intestines which could only mean one thing.
A Feral was somewhere nearby. Ferals, otherwise known as Thetas were werewolves that had lost their sense of self and let the beast take over completely. Normally balance is easily maintained between a shifter and their wolf but in a Theta’s case, something triggers them into a deep spiral of negative emotion. Occasionally, Thetas can be saved–as long as they haven’t bitten anyone and infected them. Universal Pack Law says any Theta that bites someone is to be executed on sight.
One bite from a Theta could start an epidemic, making more feral wolves out of humans, shifters–anyone really.
Dante held his breath and pushed himself into the shadows, heading towards the horrible stench. His wolf, Basco, was whimpering in his mind–not from fear but from the knowledge that they’d have to deal with this one.
And they almost didn’t survive the last fight with a Theta.
Dante glanced around a corner to an alleyway, seeing two things that made his heart race.
He’d found the last member of the thieves, the kid looked younger than the others–smelled like his balls hadn’t even dropped yet. The second thing was the Theta, in full wolf form, foaming at the mouth and growling like an unholy beast about to pounce on the poor human.
Basco scratched at the corners of Dante’s mind.
“Shift. Hybrid.”
“Can’t do that bud, need to keep us hidden.”
“But the boy–”
“I’ll get him out, don’t worry.”
That’s exactly when Basco would worry, unfortunately.
The boy had his hands braced against the wall, scratching at the bricks looking for purchase. Dante could see it, feel that he wanted to run. If he weren’t about to fight the Theta, it would make Basco want to chase him, anyway.
“Aye…AYE! Help me! Somebody!” the poor kid called out.
“Kid, DUCK!” Dante called out, using his speed to jump and grab the Theta by the back of the neck just as he leapt for the boy’s throat. The Theta was new, strong but untrained by the amount of trouble Dante had holding him in place.
The good news is that the child had ducked. The bad news was that he’d ducked too slowly. So, instead of biting his throat out, the Theta grazed the thin skin of the boy’s neck–right over his artery. A pool of red started to form under his feet as the teenager slumped to the ground.
Unfortunately, even a graze is enough to infect someone.
“Shit!” Dante groaned, working fast. He twisted the Theta’s head around, snapping its neck and tossing its body to the side.
“Put pressure on it!” Dante commanded the trembling kid. Their eyes locked, and something bitter stirred within Dante. He could just let this boy bleed out, bury the body. He was an Alpha; responsibility was baked into the title. No one would think ill of him for letting a thieving human die.
“M-my s-sister…N-Nazari…please.” Watery big brown eyes tore at him.
“Damn. Alright, listen, kid. I’m gonna save you, and I want you to hold on to this feeling–hold on to Nazari. Understand?!”
“If the boy holds on to something he loves, then he won’t become a Theta too. We won’t have to kill him, Dante.”
Dante mentally nodded, in full harmony with Basco.
The boy held his left thumb up and choked back a sob.
“Good. Now do me one thing…tell me your name.” Dante soothingly said, leaning in close to him–eyes turning bright yellow beneath his mask–matching the moon overhead.
“My name is…H–Hunter..”
—--------------------------
“Hunter James Smith! What the heck did you do to your clothes? They’re nasty and torn and wait–what the hell? Is that blood?!” Nazari said, rushing to pull her brother into an empty room within the quiet closed doors of the community clinic.
She was just about to finish up for the day, but when she got a call from her little brother, an urgent tone in his voice–she dropped what she was doing and told Doctor Williams that she needed to close the clinic for an hour–take her lunch early. He didn’t bat an eye.
“Strip.” She commanded, not bothering to give him any time to be bashful.
“What? Man…” Hunter mumbles to himself as he takes off his shirt.
“No back-talk! You’re 15 years old and you’re still out here runnin’ these streets with your little friends that don’t care about you.” She yelled at him, the same thing she’s been yelling at him since he was 10 years old.
They’d lost their parents in a mysterious fire at a young age. Nazari was a young freshman at the time,18 and ready to become a doctor. She had scholarships and jobs lined up to ease the burden of student debt off her hardworking parents’ backs.
But none of that matters when you leave school to become a guardian to your little brother at 18.
“Worked three jobs to put you in a fancy-ass school, sacrificing myself and my social life just to care for your ungrateful behind–” she stopped when she felt his hand grip her wrist as she reached to help him undress.
“You’re right.” His voice was lower than normal, calm, as if the boy in front of her had aged up beyond his years recently.
“I...what?”
“I said you’re right. I’m a screw up and I need to listen to you more. No, not that I need to listen to you, I will listen to you. Imma do better sis, I swear it.”
Her heart ached, her bottom lip trembled as she reined in her emotions.
Nazari sighs and pulls the young man into a hug.
“What’s this for?” he mumbled, encircling her.
“Shutup and let me be nice to you.” She bit back, hugging him tighter.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Pulling apart, she grabbed some spare scrubs they had. She tossed them to him and motioned with a flick of her hand to get dressed. Silently, he put on the outfit and tried to grab his bag on the way out.
“Nah uh. Sit yo behind down. You ain’t going nowhere until you tell me what happened to you.”
Hunter bit his lip, hands scratching at his wrist–a telltale sign that he was about to lie to her face.
“You said I needed to make better choices in friends…you were right. I got into trouble with them tonight.”
Nazari’s eyes narrowed like spotlights on him, making him sweat.
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that police get called to–”
“BOY! I swear to God if you–”
Hunter held up his hands, palms spread. “Easy, sis. We robbed a place with nobody home…and we couldn’t even do that right.”
Forehead vein throbbing, Nazari pinches the bridge of her nose and steps back, regarding him fully.
“Didn’t know I was raising a real banger. Damn, guess I failed mom and dad after all.”
Hunter’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. Nazari knew she was hitting his weak spot, his love for his parents and his desire to honor their memory. It was necessary, he needed to wake up because the route he was taking currently was going to do the opposite of honoring them.
“It’s not..look, I admit I messed up. Zee, I’m sorry! Will you at least hear me out about the rest of it?!”
Blowing out some air, she tied her box braids up into a ponytail and side-eyed him.
“Assuming the next thing out of your mouth isn’t about the police catching you…what is it?”
“So, you know about that vigilante right? Dire Wolf?” The tone in Hunter’s voice made her wary.
To be a kid involved with hood rats and yet still idolize–nevermind. It suddenly dawned on Nazari that a violent vigilante is exactly the kind of person Hunter would idolize.
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He’s the reason I’m still alive. Dire Wolf saved my life big sis! And now…now I wanna be just like him!”
She was about to open her mouth and dissuade him from making an even bigger mistake when a knock on the door of the clinic made her pause. Irritated and tired, she pointed at the closed sign on the window.
The knocking continued, steady as before.
Her back was turned so she didn’t see who was there. Groaning low, she spun on her heels and pointed a finger at the person knocking, mouth open, ready to chew him out because Nazari had enough on her plate already.
Her finger went limp as Hunter rushed to unlock the door and let in the most gorgeous man she’d ever met.
“Excuse me. Are you Nazari?”
She gulped, too stunned for words at the moment. All she could do was nod as his dark brown eyes put her in a chokehold.
“Y-yes, I’m Nazari.”
“Good. My name is Dante Jones. You and I need to talk.”
