~LONE WOLF~

~CASSELBA'S POV

"I SWEAR, THAT'S ALL I KNOW!" Travis says, shivering under me.

His voice is more of a mewl and I almost pity him. Almost.

He had been rambling on about his pack for the few precious seconds my grip was on his throat. A single black claw from my forefinger was sunken deep into his neck. The sharp nail was the only thing that held back the blood from rushing out.

Travis had quaked under me as he told me about Hiram and the Feral pack, their modus operandi and where they nested. He'd given away everything I needed to storm the place.

I had all the vital informations necessary for my revenge. The time had come for their destruction, and my wolf and I had never being happier.

"Good boy," I mutter close to his face and lift up his thighs. "Now, you ever mention this to anyone and when I come back next time I won't do this.."

"Do what?" he voices in paranoia.

I open my mouth and scream the same moment I remove my claws from his neck.

"Help! please, someone's bleeding."

The moment I withdraw and my claws leave his jugular, blood rushes down his neck, soaking his clothes. It comes out in spurts so bright and red and I feel for him, but I guess that's what happens to bad guy's henchmen.

A group of men run over and hold him down. They press heavy clothes to his neck while waiting for his healing powers to kick in. I walk out silently without anyone noticing I'd even been there. If Travis does talk, the only thing they'll know is that a biker lady named Tanya visited the MC joint.

I just hoped Rain had taken the hint to start a new life someplace safe, away from men who only wanted a piece of ass.

I walk out the bar and the cold night greets my eyes. The distance to my bike is a blur as my mind replays all of Travis' fearful rant. I mount the black machine bulk and ride off into the darkness.

The wind bites at my skin but my hand is steady on the handlebars. As trees and houses whip past my vision, I begin to go over the facts.

The first thing Travis had sputtered was the number of the Ferals. They were mostly men. The few women they admitted into the pack were lost chicks they could control and slap around.

The Feral pack numbered twenty five sturdy werewolves. It was a great number I couldn't hope to best alone or in a single fight. Marching to their camp would be suicide as the Ferals didn't have any qualms about killing. I even suspected a few of them were cannibals, leaning into the crude ways of Shifter feeding.

Rather than feed on steaks and other forms of roast like most packs, the Ferals were rumored to devour human flesh. The thought alone almost made me retch and my hands gripped harder on the Harley.

Travis had also unwillingly divulged the Feral pack's location. I knew it was only a matter of time before Hiram got to him. The boy might've survived my little 'talk' with him but Hiram wouldn't be merciful in dealing with him. I should've just spared him the horrorful fate and killed him myself.

The one thing Hiram hated more than women were rats. 'Pussies' as he liked to call them. There wasn't a single word that flowed out of the man's mouth that wasn't derogatory to women. It was either the subtle reference of weakness attributed to the female kind, or on some occasions, an open display of male dominance over female-populated packs.

The Ferals loved control. Power wasn't a bad thing but in the hands of those pricks, it was deadly.

The few words I could make out from Travis' mumblings as he'd convulsed under me were Alpine Yard, the Feral's current domicile.

Alpine Yard was a small ridge off the express; a few kilometers off the road into the jungle. No human was foolish enough to hike over there.

If the massive 'DO NOT TRESPASS!' sign wasn't enough warning, the red deer antlers hanging from the trees surely sent whatever wandering human to their heels.

I had been out the Alpine Yard a couple of times but at the time I visited, it was just a serene wild environment dotted with a few Cabins and apartment Lodgings.

It was normally a resting place for Shifters who wanted a time away from the human world to run wild across the acres of greenland around the ridge. I definitely hadn't expected the Ferals to take control over the place.

Alpine Yard was a free-for-all Eden, until the Ferals that is.

Knowing Hiram Arespoulos, I could just imagine how the place would look. He would have turned the thriving werewolf haven to some freakish jungle justice Neverland with huge Feral dogs obeying his every command.

The truth was that I could not go over there. Not yet. Even my rage wasn't enough fuel to take on such monsters. They would happily hang my hide from their doors as a trophy; a mockery to any spirited female to deigned to lift up her head at their patriarchy.

I'm still contemplating a wiser way to destroy the Feral band of Idiots when the motorbike rumbles into the curb of my house. I bring it to a halt in the mild lighting of my garage and I rev it for a moment before I let my hands still on the clutch. I unmount and move for the main residence.

A hot shower is steaming down my skin before I can finally banish the Ferals and my quest for revenge out of my head. I stand still under the tingling rain and recall the few precious times I had spent with my pack.

Their deaths were brutal, sudden, and heart-wrenching. It pained me to my bones that I couldn't protect them. My eyes turn misty as their faces pass over my vision; the vapors rising over my body seem to blur with their faces.

The faces of the women as they took pride in me; a woman who'd become an Alpha—a position so named for a man. I saw the grins of the men; free-spirited souls not wrathful at the fact that a woman of color was chosen to lead them.

Then I saw their deaths, the horror of their broken bodies, curled in twisted angles on the cursed earth of Los Padres.

The Ferals had swarmed during one of our hunts, taking all of us by surprise. They'd let no one escape. With their heavy bulk and frothing lips, they rent apart my pack.

The women were tiny in comparison to their gray pelt and wide jaws. The men stood no chance against the open fury of vile men. I had watched with terrified eyes as the Ferals tore through my men and women like butter.

The Woods ran red with blood, blue corpses hung from tree branches, the earth turned moist but not with dew, scratch marks from claws peeled the tree barks, and the stench of cold death lifted high in the air.

I'd fainted at the sight. The only wolf left to behold all the appalling horror.

The pain filling my thoughts becomes too much and I turn off the shower. The steam dissipates as I grab a towel off the bath rack. I push open the sliding glass and move for my bedroom. I desperately needed something to make me forget my pain.

The only people who could do exactly just that weren't talking to me. My human mates. Caden and Ryan.

My absurd suggestion to have them both with me at the same time must've upset Caden. I got why it did. Ryan was his son. The suggestion was strange but nevertheless what I wanted.

I hadn't heard from him for days now but my wolf really needed some kind of release. We both did.

Unfortunately, I don't smoke. I don't drink either. That leaves only sex in the picture; the kind of rough intercourse that makes one forget everything else. Exactly what I need to dispel the gloomy thoughts from my mind.

I pick up my phone off the bed. As I scroll through my contacts, I pass over Caden's number. Then Ryan's. My finger stills over one that sings to me.

Clarence's.

I'm about to dial her when my phone buzzes with an incoming call. I peer down at the Caller ID, and an instant smile forms across my lips.

Caden Hallow was calling. I tap the receive button and hold the phone to my ears.

"Hello! Mr. Hallow," I whisper into the phone.