Lone Wolf (The Wulf Pack Book 1)

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Chapter Forty-three

When Rage awoke he knew what he needed to do. The thought the first thing to grace his consciousness, like it was the most obvious answer.

His body felt fresh, relaxed for the first time in days, his mind clear and sharp, ready to devises a plan.

“Well, good morning,” Ally greeted.

“Morning?” frowning he looked around, surprised to find the room slightly shadowed, he had assumed it was dusk.

“Yes, morning, it’s five o’clock, Thursday morning,” his frown deepened as he looked out the large sliding glass doors, they were facing south so he couldn’t tell where exactly the sun was at.

Twenty-six hours was a very long time to sleep.

Allison sat at the table, one leg pulled onto her chair as she sipped her coffee, watching him. The shin in her eyes hinted on her eagerness for mischief and mayhem.

“Did I miss anything?” Rage had a feeling he knew the answer, but one could hope.

“Nope,” he nodded, grabbing a muffin and a mug he poured himself some coffee, not really needing it, and took a seat across from her. She watched him silently, smirking over the rim of her mug.

“What?” eyes borrowing on the golden girl before him. She only giggled.

“There is a look in your eyes, you’re plotting something,” He didn’t bother to hide his devious smile.

“It’s time we get some answers,” he paused to take a sip of his too-hot black coffee, “the way I do best,” her wicked smile mirrored his. She set her mug onto the table before her.

“When do we leave?” her eyes glowing with the excitement at the anticipation of a hunt. She straitened herself in her seat and he could almost see her jumping in her skin like a pup.

“When we get Ethan, Wrath and Dare, see who wants in,” her head bobbed excitedly in a nod of agreement.

Ethan and Wrath crouched on either side of Rage as they watched the scene before them unfold. Allison was actually a good actress.

The sentry was dim if he thought some random she-wolf would just happen to be on his rout, injured and crying, in very little clothes.

This close to the camp, the wolves patrolled singularly, only crossing paths occasionally or during their shift change. They didn’t have much time for this to play out, Ally had to be quick. They had no idea when the guard would show up, sometimes they moved swiftly, board and wanting to chat with the other guard for a time, while sometimes they moved slowly, meandering around in their own little world.

She was swift as she knocked the male out with an elbow to the temple. Within a minute she had him pulled into the trees, lying on the ground before them.

“Great job, swift, clean, no blood, you, dear cousin, would make an excellent Enforcer,”

“Let’s get out of here before one of his buddies shows up,” with a unanimous silent agreement, Wrath lifted the male and slung him over his shoulder. The wolf wasn’t large, he was thin, lean, feral and slightly sickly, like most Rogues.

The male stayed unconscious until they reached the shed where Henry stated was their “jail”, that is until Wrath smashed his head on the iron bars of the cell. Ally full-out laughed as the male was dropped onto the floor, Wrath’s intended action.

The male groaned at Wrath’s feet and he turned, a cold smile on his face as he looked at the three of them behind him.

“Looks like we can start first thing,”

Ally turned to Rage, face stark white, just as Dare’s had when he heard the plan.

“You don’t have to stay and watch,” her older cousin said, she didn’t want to watch what would come next. Hunting, fighting and killing were one thing, but torture, that was something else, something she wasn’t sure she could stomach.

Rage gave Wrath a single nod once Allison was outside.

Wrath seemed eager to get started as he pulled the male up, strapping him to the metal chair in the center of the ten-by-ten cell.

He had never seen Rage in action, never seen what his brother was truly like, the darkness that lurked inside his soul. Hunter had seen, Dare and seen, but only Fury had stood witness to the darkness when Rage let it take over, let his dark side loose without restraint. Even Hunter had not been able to stay until the end, until he was finished with his victim, Dare had left not long after the first blood had hit the floor.

He wondered if this set of brother and cousin, would be able to last, would be able to stand until the end as Fury had.

Rage pushed his thoughts away to let the coldness take over, let it seep over his skin, into his bones, as everything else retreated in its wake. His heart was the last to take the chill, the last place his emotions and feelings lingered before he locked them away, he couldn’t do this with a warm heart.

“I warn you both now,” he glanced between Wrath and Ethan, before his cold eyes settled on his prey, “this will be hard to watch, no one will judge you if you leave, even Hunter and Dare were not able to witness my actions,”

“How long did they last?” Ethan asked as he watched Rage shrug out of his leather jacket, never taking his eyes off of the male strapped to the chair.

“Dare lasted ten minutes,” he blindly handed Wrath his jacket stalking into the cell, the smell of fresh urine already coming from the male, “Hunter lasted almost an hour,”

“And Fury?” Wrath asked as he retreated to the hall next to their cousin.

“Fury stayed through it, ’til the end, the death,” Rage leaned forward, gripping the male’s chin in his hand, he looked into the males fear-filled eyes, “he is the only one to witness me after I was done with my prey, after they have been bled dry and I finally grant them the death they had been begging for.”

Both males looked at each other, eyes wide. They knew he was dangerous, knew he was a killer, a torturer, but those were just words, bringing them mild images of their definitions. Neither had heard what he did, his methods or any details of how he did it. But now, neither was quite sure they wanted to know.

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