Page 143 of Untamed

"What's wrong, my luna?" Mactiir gathers me closer, despite the stiffness in my joints. I wrap myself around my male and look toward the female out of the corner of my eye. Her eyes burn in her face like two black holes. She isjealous; covetous, resentful, greedy.

"You are mine, Mactiir," I whisper to him fiercely, my lips just next to his ear.

A shudder wracks his body, making me quake, too. "Yeah, I am, kitten," he returns my whisper in a husky, deep tone. The dark scent of male wraps around me, and my lips curve into a smile. He is thinking about thesex.

Icanplay the game, Father.

"I can't watch this without cringing," Old Alpha says. "You're both just pups," he mutters, shaking his head. "Your mama is going to murder me," he tells me solemnly.

I blink at him for what feels like an eternity before I realize that Old Alpha is teasing me. I laugh, and Mactiir even lets out a lone chuckle before it cuts off.

"Alpha, Alphaso- Alpha," a male jogs up, an expression of pure horror in his eyes.

"Asher?" Old Alpha acknowledges the male.

"The GriMaw Alphason has your... shit! Your parents, Alpha Jax... I'm so sorry. You need to come see this."

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We all stare at bodies. Even in life, the old wolves were feeble if I were to judge, with paper-thin skin pulled tight over purple veins. Eyes, void of life, stare sightlessly at nothing. Old Alpha is trembling, his fingers unclenching from his fist to skim across the cheek of the old female.

The pack is silent behind us. These two deaths are no mystery. Under their slack faces are gaping holes where rubbery chicken-necks used to be. These wolves have been killed by having their throats ripped from their bodies, the wounds so deep that only their spines are holding their heads to their bodies. In the wounds, little white bodies squirm and crawl. Maggots.

I force my eyes away from the wounds in their necks. I can see every muscle under skin that no longer has the elasticity of life. The old male has scars from long ago wounds, but the strength he once had faded long ago, giving into old age. The female is softer, even with her body seized into stillness forever. Lines and grooves dip in and out of her flesh; a female, like her male, who had a long life.

Lives that ended cruelly.

Old Alpha, crouched over their corpses, stands back up slowly as if he carries the weight of their dead souls on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Alpha," a young male, another alpha, if I'm correct, stands over the bodies."We weren't allowed on BlueSnout land when we arrived for the Challenge. Instead, we were given your former alpha and luna and asked to leave." I frown at him. I don’t like him as much as I like Young Alpha. This one is unbendable and brittle, like a fossilized tree, dead on the inside.

The male who came to fetch us is twitching, rubbing his hands together. The softest bit of whine comes through his voice when he speaks. "Your parents were reported missing. WhiteLun called to let us know that they left over a week ago. They should have been home by now. But..."

"I didn't know they were coming back here," Old Alpha says in quiet disbelief.

"Time of death is two-to-three days. Apparently, they had news for us. We can't nail down exactly when they disappeared," the Laughing Male walks over to us, a thin black box held to his ear.

"I spoke with my Father a week ago," Old Alpha shakes his head.

Laughing Male nods. "Devel says he last spoke with him then, too. That was it. They left that same day. No one heard from them after that, but we had no reason to believe that they were coming here or in danger."

A low, dangerous rumble comes straight from Mactiir's chest. His eyes narrow. "Macon would have driven right through BlueSnout. Blout has struck first," he says. His fists are clenched again.

"Blout?" I ask him, suddenly remembering.

"Bliss?" Mactiir turns to me intently, "how do you know his name?"

"Rooster told me... that the Hollow Moon... Jessie... has been his... I don't remember what he said, Mactiir!"

"Shh, my luna, easy. Just tell me what you do know. Who is Rooster?"

"The one with the skinny legs," I tell him absently, wracking my memory from that terrible time in the grey room. "He set me free so that I could save his sister, Abbi-wolf." I look around helplessly, "maybe she knows something?"

"Abbi-wolf? My niece? Thank the goddess you didn't change her name, too, sweetheart," Old Alpha nods to Laughing Male, who jogs off, presumably to find my friend.

"Blout," I mumble, "Rooster called him the spider. He doesn't know about me. The spider doesn't know about me."

"He doesn't know about your male's beast, either, darling," my Hunter-Cousin grins crazily. He looks at Mactiir, "how does my cousin know all this?"

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