Chapter 25 BLAST FROM THE PAST
RAGNAR'S POV
“Find out who did this!” I roar out.
“I want reports and I want them on my table before sunrise tomorrow!” I bark out my voice echoing like thunder off at the distant pine trees.
The warriors all shift with unease at the grotesque scene of the dead rogues twisted like an oddly shaped pretzel.
“They couldn't have just appeared here,” I growl looking around my warriors for any suggestions. “No one, no pack or wolf gets this close without being seen or scented first by any of you!.”
Ava barks orders at the others, her sharp tone cutting through and rousing them from the murmurs.
There's something I can’t quite place.
My claws flex against my palms as frustration burns hot through my veins.
Something I'm seeing but I'm just not getting.
“They can’t just appear here without anyone bringing them,” I continued, my eyes narrowing. “Someone led them here, rogues are never this coordinated.”
“Alpha,” one of the scouts says, her voice trembling. “We’ve checked the borders and even past them. There’s no scent trail leading in or out. It's almost like they walked straight out of the shadows.”
I snap my head toward her. “Then check again.”
Ava strides up beside me, her nose twitching with eyes narrowing. Her usual calm is gone, replaced by seriousness.
“I caught something,” she says to me finally. “A scent. It’s faint… but it doesn't smell like a rogue..”
I look at her sharply. “Where?”
She tilts her head toward the east, her expression grave. “It’s coming from beyond the stream near the old willow ridge.”
Without a word I turn around and rush towards there.
The tremor of Ava’s paws behind me signals she's following.
We run fast. Ava is a really strong wolf but even she is having trouble keeping up with me.
The forest is reduced to a streak of dark shadows from the trees and moonlight flashing in.
The scent of the forest deepens as we go even further but mixed in it is a smell I don't recognize that shouldn't belong here.
It doesn't smell like anything or anyone from my pack so it definitely should be the intruder Ava was talking about.
Then suddenly, nothing.
The trail ends in the middle of nowhere.
It vanishes from thin air.
I stop short growling as my claws gouge deep into the dirt.
Ava circles behind me, her snout sniffing the air furiously.
“It just disappeared,” she says as disbelief is heavy in her voice.
“Like it never existed.”
“That’s impossible.” My hackles rise.This was all becoming too eerie by the minute.
“Nothing hides from me.”
She glances at me, concern flickering in her eyes. “Maybe it wasn’t–”
“Don’t even say it,” I cut in, baring my teeth. “We don’t speak of curses or stupid prophecies from crazy rogues. Not now.”
Ava nods reluctantly.
The last thing we need is even more public panic.
I turn away my eyes scanning the treeline one last time before ordering “Scatter the warriors and let them search every inch of the territory.
If even an ant or anything breathes where it shouldn’t, I want it dragged back here dead or alive.”
“Yes, Alpha.” She lowers her head respectfully and runs off into the trees.
I remain still for a moment, the silence pressing in deep, then shift back to my human form.
My breath fogs the air and my hands won't stop shaking even though I won’t admit why.
It's easier to hide the shaking from people in wolf form.
On the way back, the night feels heavier. The whispers from the pack on my way back are disgruntling.
Low voices that fall silent as I pass, wolves look away too quickly with judgement or pity filled eyes.
It reminds me of something I've not seen in a while.
Suspicion.
They’ve heard.
The words of the dying rogues have spread faster than wildfire.
The Moon will judge.
The Alpha will fall.
And already, they’re starting to wonder if the Moon is turning against me.
I ignore it as I pass. I have to, if I stop to even correct anyone it’ll reduce everything I’ve built and build suspicion.
I reach the pack house steps then stop.
No, not there.
Not now.
I couldn't see Sebastian like this.
I can't let him see me like this.
So instead I veer off toward the training grounds.
My chest is burning with restless energy that can only be released on the field or in bed.
And with the current state of my relationship with Sebastian coupled with tonight, I'm not sure I'm feeling up to it today.
The area is empty with moonlight spilling over the sand and wooden dummies sprawled around.
I turn back to my human form heading straight to the men's locker room where I snag a free change of sparring clothes before I begin my warm-up.
I roll my shoulders, crack my neck and start to hit.
Repeatedly.
One perk of being a wolf has to be the inexhaustible strength I have.
Each strike from me lands with a dull thud, echoing through the room.
Over and over I punch.
Harder and harder I continue until my knuckles split and blood stains the wood.
I don’t stop, I can’t.
My rage and guilt twist together inside me, until I can't tell which is which before choking everything else out.
The Moon remembers.
Her voice–her last scream–still claws at the edges of my memory.
My late mate liked talking about how the moon remembers and how we wolves were stupid to always ignore and not listen to the moon when it's talking.
Earlier on, I almost stopped in shock when the rogues said the exact phrase she liked saying. It wasn't a coincidence.
What if she was still alive?
I mean it couldn't be right? I mean I buried her.
I mourned her for months wasting away on booze and even tried to kill myself repeatedly.
Yurik was the only reason I am still alive and standing right now as he forbade me from committing suicide.
But why now?
After all these years, why is she back now?
Or rather why is her memory coming back now that the moon goddess has given me another mate?
And if she's alive, how do I have a different mate?
I hit it again. Harder.