Page 2 of Locke

The very few that were left in the bar look on strangely. Pity hangs in their eyes as I glance toward them, but I sling myself out the door, taking half the wall with it.

Why aren’t they coming after me?I need to be put down. I would hurt innocent lives. They would all be in danger.

But not a single person steps out of the building. Not one wolf or bear emerges to take me on; to head me off, to kill me.

I knew I was strong, and would be difficult to manage, but it should have never come to this. Never! They knew my wishes - it was an order! They disobeyed a fucking direct order from their alph… president.

I was never their alpha. I was just… a president. My word is like a human’s. They could choose to obey it, or not, because Ididn’t really hold any authority. None. I held no authority over any of their animals. Nor over them.

The woods smell fresh and cool to my wolf as he bursts into the forest, leaving the bloody chaos of the bar behind. His body races with a wild, primal energy that I’m sure he hasn’t felt in years. Each breath carries the promise of freedom and a chance at redemption.

But little does he know it isn’t coming. Nothing is coming. This is the beginning of the end for the both of us.

With every step deeper into the trees, the nauseating guilt and self-loathing gnaw at me. The memories of my failure hang heavy, like a net trapping me and reminding me that I’m not a wolf running free; that I have gained my animal again and I will soon be human once more.

None of that will happen.

I was once a leader, a president responsible for the safety and well-being of a band of rogues that had nowhere to go. This is how they repaid me. To let me suffer. Was I ever really a leader to them? Or was I just the fucking scapegoat the whole time? I just was here to watch everyone suffer and let my guilt eat me away because I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. They wanted me alive to watch it all go to shit.

My wolf’s paws hit the soft earth and he feels the discomfort of his deteriorating body; the hair loss, the uncontrollable hunger and the gnawing loneliness.

Finally, my wolf is seeing that not all is fucking sunshine and roses.

My wolf howls a mournful cry, a mixture of pain and loss echoing through the forest. He will now have to accept the truth that he is alone. We can never connect; to speak to one another.

He will only know me as… a feeling.

As we continue deeper into the forest, we see a doe and its fawn. My wolf’s hunger surges at the sight, and he watches them as they graze, taking in their every movement.

I groan, not wanting to watch. I have hunted many times in my life, but I always spared the fawn. At a young age, all shifters were taught to spare the young so they could grow and bring new offspring, but I know immediately what my wolf is going to do. And I’m not going to like it.

My wolf snarls as his sorrow has gone and hunger has taken over. Primal animal instincts rise above the training we had done together over the years. He is a rabid alpha. He is truly an animal, one that I no longer recognize as part of my soul.

The doe senses it as well, and suddenly realizes its danger. It turns to bolt, but the fawn is slower.

My wolf lunges at it, tearing its throat out in a single swipe. It is brutally efficient, leaving behind a mess of gore and broken bones. Its cry for help is short-lived, being silenced by the vicious beast that had once been me.

But, as I watch the fawn take its last breath, I realize I have lost more than my wolf. I have lost myself. I’m not a leader, a president or anything else. All of that is gone. All that remains is the animal.

Chapter One

A month and a half later…

Emm

Irubbed my right eye as it did that funny twitch when I’ve been awake for too long. I slapped my hand on the wheel and wiggled my hips to bring the blood flow back to my butt. If the numbness wore off, then the pain in my lower back would come back and would help me stay awake.

Not that I should have trouble staying awake, as it was broad daylight. But I’ve been driving for days, and I haven’t had over four hours of sleep at a time.

A week ago, I got on the dark web and hunted through the hundreds of bounties for my next target. I knew I had to besmart about it. I needed a load of cash, and the smaller jobs wouldn’t do. It would take longer, but the payoff would be big.

The problem was that it was a bigger risk, but it was a risk I was ready to take. My experience was better than most. I’d never been caught, not ever left a trail and I wouldn’t start now. I scrolled through the listings one night as I hunted for the perfect job, and it popped up, practically highlighted on the screen.

No picture, just a name, a few details about them and a chunk of change beside it. There were big, bold letters struck out as well that would further complicate things.

Locate target. Wanted Alive.

There was no picture, plus a live capture wasn’t easy. I could request a few extra zeros once he’s captured if they wanted him alive so badly.

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