12. Calder
Calder
I stood before my pack, their faces grim in the dim light of my living room.
Twenty pairs of eyes fixed on me, waiting for guidance, for reassurance I wasn't sure I could give.
The murder of Marcus Greer had shaken them all.
A human death in our territory wasn't just a tragedy.
It was a threat to everything we'd built.
"We know what we're dealing with now," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
"This isn't just some rogue passing through.
He's hunting deliberately, sending messages. "
Patrick leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "You think it's the same wolf the Elder Council's been tracking? The one with the... signature?"
I nodded, swallowing hard. "The pattern matches. Heart and liver missing, precision cuts. But this is the first time there's been a message."
"I see you," Trevor quoted, his usually jovial face solemn. "What the hell does that mean?"
The words sent a chill down my spine as I remembered the photo Elias had shown me.
The carved flesh, the blood. And all I could think about was Ethan's face, his excited text when I agreed to our date tomorrow night.
"It could be meant for anyone investigating the attacks," I said carefully.
"The farmer was talking to local law enforcement, reporters... "
Trevor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Like that journalist you've been hanging around with?"
A low murmur rippled through the pack. I felt their eyes on me, curious, concerned.
My wolf bristled at the scrutiny, but I kept my expression neutral.
"Ethan Murphy is new to town," I said, choosing my words with precision.
"He's covering the cattle mutilations for the Portland Gazette.
Yes, he interviewed Greer, but so did others. "
"Did he have any new information?” Patrick asked. “Anything more than he put in the paper?”
“Not that I know of,” I sighed. “Or at least not that he was willing to share. He seemed like he was holding something back… that’s why I’m going to keep pushing.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, boss?” Trevor added. “I mean… won’t the Elder Council be upset about you spending time with a human? And a journalist at that?”
“The Council wants answers just as badly as the rest of us do,” I replied, trying to make it look like there was no personal connection between me and Ethan. “They want these attacks to stop. The more information we have, the faster we can bring this rogue down and get back to our normal lives.”
Miranda, one of the younger wolves, leaned forward, her voice trembling slightly. "And what if we can't find him? What if he kills again?"
Her question hung in the air, voicing the fear that gripped us all.
I met her gaze, trying to project confidence I didn't entirely feel in this situation that was far out of my comfort zone and realm of control.
"We will find him," I said firmly. "Starting tonight, we're implementing round-the-clock patrols.
No one goes alone. Teams of three, rotating shifts.
" I moved to the coffee table where I'd laid out a map of Portland and the surrounding areas, marked with the locations of the cattle mutilations and now, Greer's murder.
"I've divided our territory into sectors.
Each team will take a quadrant." I tapped the map.
"The attacks have been concentrated here, north of town.
That's where we'll focus most of our efforts. "
Patrick pushed off the wall, coming closer to examine the map. "What about the human authorities? They'll be all over this now that there's been a murder."
"Which is why we need to be careful," I replied. "No shifting where you might be seen. If you catch the rogue's scent, you call for backup immediately. Do not engage alone. Patrol in wolf form, that way it’s easier to slip away unnoticed should you come across any humans. And keep to the shadows.”
"And what about the journalist?" This from Samantha, one of our older pack members. Her gray-streaked hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, her eyes sharp with suspicion. "If he's poking around where he shouldn't, he could expose us all."
I felt my wolf bristle at what sounded like a quiet threat toward Ethan, but I kept my voice level. "I'll handle Murphy. As I said, he might have information we need."
"Handle him how, exactly?" Samantha pressed, her tone making it clear what she thought I should do.
My eyes locked with hers, a silent battle of wills.
"By keeping him close. Steering him away from dangerous lines of inquiry.
The demon liaison is aware of my approach.
" That last part was a half truth, but a necessary one.
I couldn't have my pack questioning my judgment or, worse, taking matters into their own hands with Ethan.
“The important thing," I continued, addressing the whole room again, "is that we find this rogue before anyone else dies.
Before the humans start hunting for answers we can't afford for them to find. "
Trevor nodded, stepping up beside me. "Patrol assignments are posted on the kitchen door. First shift starts at midnight. Check your phones for the schedule. I’ve texted those of you up first.”
The pack began to disperse, breaking into small groups to discuss their assignments.
I caught snatches of conversation here and there.
The pack was worried about the patrols cutting into work hours, concerned about what to tell human friends they wanted to protect, and fearful of what might happen if they encountered the rogue.
Patrick sidled up to me as I folded the map. "You sure you know what you're doing with this human? Getting involved with a journalist is playing with fire."
"I'm not involved," I said, the lie bitter on my tongue. "I'm just keeping an eye on a potential threat."
Patrick's gaze was skeptical, but he didn't press further. "If you say so. Just be careful. Humans are fragile, and this one's already in the rogue's sights. The last thing we need is another dead person on our hands.”
The thought made my stomach clench. I nodded, unable to form words around the sudden tightness in my throat.
As the last of the pack filed out, I stood alone in my living room, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.
The clock on the wall showed just past ten, less than twenty-four hours until my date with Ethan.
A date that was becoming more complicated by the minute.
I moved to the window, watching as my pack dispersed into the night.
Some headed home, others toward their patrol sectors.
The responsibility of their safety weighed on me like a physical burden.
Twenty lives under my protection, and now, inexplicably, Ethan's too.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, half expecting another text from Ethan, but it was Elias.
Meeting with the Council tomorrow. 10am. Updates required.
Perfect timing. Right before my date with Ethan. I texted back a quick acknowledgment, then pocketed my phone and headed for the kitchen. I needed a drink.
The whiskey burned pleasantly as it went down, warming me from the inside out.
I leaned against the counter, allowing myself a moment of weakness now that I was alone.
The image of Greer's mutilated body flashed in my mind again, followed immediately by Ethan's smiling face. The juxtaposition made me nauseous.
"I see you," I muttered, rolling the phrase around in my mouth like the whiskey.
Who was the rogue watching? Me? My pack?
Or was it Ethan, the curious journalist who couldn't help but ask questions? Was someone else on his tail? Maybe he meant the police? I had no idea. But the phrase carved into that farmer’s body haunted me.
Trevor's patrol team would be leaving soon. I knew I should join them, check the perimeter myself. It was my duty as Alpha. But something kept me rooted to the spot, staring at my phone, at the last text from Ethan.
Can't wait for tomorrow :)
Such a simple message, yet it sent warmth spreading through my chest even as cold fear gripped my stomach. Whatever was happening between us was becoming harder to deny, harder to control. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, torn between the urge to protect and the instinct to claim.
The doorbell rang, startling me from my thoughts. I set down my glass and moved cautiously to the front door, my senses on high alert. The scent that greeted me was familiar. It was Trevor.
"Thought you'd be halfway to your patrol by now," I said as I opened the door.
Trevor stood on my porch, his expression troubled. "Can… uh… Can we talk?”
I nodded and stepped aside to let Trevor in. His usual easy-going demeanor was replaced with something tense, almost nervous. He fidgeted with the keys in his hand as he entered.
"What's on your mind?" I asked, closing the door behind him.
Trevor paced a few steps before turning to face me. "It's about Ethan Murphy."
My wolf instantly went on alert, hackles rising. "What about him?"
"I did some digging," Trevor said, his voice low. "After you met up with him. Something about him seemed... off."
I crossed my arms, trying to appear merely curious rather than defensive. "Off how?"
"He's not just some random journalist, Calder." Trevor pulled out his phone and showed me a screen. "Before Portland, he worked in New York state for a small town paper. Got fired after becoming obsessed with a story about animal attacks upstate."
My stomach dropped. "Animal attacks?"
"Yeah. And get this. He claimed they weren't animals at all, but some kind of monster. Went full conspiracy theorist, according to his former colleagues. Got committed at one point and lost everything."
The whiskey in my stomach turned sour. "How did you find all this?"
Trevor shrugged. "I've got a cousin in New York.
Works for one of the police stations. One phone call and he gave me the whole story.
" He paused, watching my reaction carefully.
"Calder, this guy's been hunting creatures like us for years.
His father was supposedly killed by one when he was a teenager. "
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Ethan's reluctance to discuss his past, the way he'd tensed when talking about the cattle mutilations, how he seemed to know more than he was letting on.
"You think he knows?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I think he suspects," Trevor replied. "And I think he's been looking for proof ever since his father was killed." He stepped closer, his expression grave. "You getting close to him… it could expose us all.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest as Trevor's words sank in. The warm feelings I'd been nurturing about Ethan suddenly seemed dangerous, foolish even.
"You're suggesting I break contact," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended.
Trevor ran a hand through his hair. "I'm suggesting you be careful, Calder. If this guy has been obsessed with finding monsters before, what's to say he's not playing you now? Getting close to gather evidence? Or worse…"
My wolf bristled at the implication that Ethan could be manipulating me, but the rational part of my brain couldn't dismiss it entirely.
The timing of his arrival in Portland, his interest in the cattle mutilations, his eagerness to get close to me…
it all looked different through this new lens.
"Have you told anyone else about this?" I asked.
"Just Patrick. Thought you should know first before we bring it to the pack."
I nodded, grateful for his discretion. "Let me handle it. I'll... find out what he knows."
Trevor's eyebrows shot up. "You're still going to see him?!"
"If he is hunting us, cutting him off suddenly will only confirm his suspicions." I was rationalizing, and we both knew it. "Besides, better to keep him close where I can watch him than let him run around town unchecked."
Trevor didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Your call, boss. But if he starts asking the wrong questions..."
"I know," I said grimly. "I’ll take care of it.”
After Trevor left to join his patrol, I stood in my living room for a long time, staring at nothing.
The whiskey bottle called to me, but I resisted.
I needed a clear head to process this. Ethan Murphy wasn't just some random human who'd caught my eye.
He was potentially someone who'd dedicated years to exposing creatures like me. Someone who believed a monster had killed his father. For all I knew, he could be a werewolf hunter in training. Such a thing had existed once and the Elder Council knew the hunters weren’t extinct yet.
And I could be Ethan’s next target.