***Every story needs its hero. And its villain. And its monster.” Amie Kaufman*
***Third Person POV***
Eyes, red as carmine, perused over the reanimated corpse of his puppet. The cadaver is motionless as a statue, put upon a steel table scintillating faintly under fluorescent lights. The owner of the ominous eyes cracked an amusing smirk, lips hiding the terror behind them.
The plan was working smoothly. His spider-like fingers traced the stitches of flesh, held together by a delicate string. Sharp nails nicked the slowly rotting dermis, the ooze of shamrock green dribbling out like droplets of rain. His marionette isn’t ready for its grand appearance for there was much to do. The thought of having what he always wanted aroused him, the vivacious heart of the one so close he could almost taste it.
Restless as he was, he knew the value of patience. He mustn’t act too hastily for his plan to work. He must take time. The waiting was mind-numbing, but it would all be worth it.
“My lord.” His head gently turned to see one of his many living, breathing puppets standing at the door to his morgue. “Many of the undead hellhounds returned to their cages. Our numbers suffered in the attack against Zircon Moon. What are your orders?”
The man grunted in amusement. “My little lambs will continue to construct more hellhounds. I’m not finished with those wretched dogs. They have something I want, and I won’t stop until I get it. The ashes of the deceased rogues are plentiful. No worry about the depleting numbers.”
“How many?”
“Quadruple the number of hellhounds we have. Sextuple, if you must. The more we have, the more we overwhelm our enemy.”
“Very well, but have you discussed this with Nadia? You know how she feels about being left in the dark.”
His lord’s face hardened; lips pursed. “She is to work on the hellhounds with my other lambs as instructed. Do not bring her name up again, Lucien.”
Lucien wanted to say something. So desperate and needed that it punched at the base of his throat, demanding an escape. However, he was agonizingly aware of his lord’s wrath at the mere mention of that name. All he could think about was the poor woman slaving over enchanted ashes and rotting stiffs of failed pack dogs. He wished he could say how Nadia was of value to him, not only for his blackened heart but for his soul. The touch of a beautiful maiden could do him wonders to steer him off this chaotic path.
In the end, he forced the words back down. He couldn’t risk his safety. With a last nod, the bleach-blond man left his lord to cogitate in his darkness. The stench of his toy was enough to trigger intense nausea.
As for the mysterious lord, he ran his hair through the puppet’s darkened hair, matted from his illicit resurrection. He was the centerpiece of his ambition, the key to his victory.
To get what no one else would claim.
*The Moon will be his*.
***Neron***
The rogue attack two days ago left more questions than answers. As my Beta and Gamma sat in my office to discuss the aftermath, the end of the battle preoccupied my mind. It had persisted, pestering my thoughts day in and day out.
That howl. The howl that caused the ceasefire. I’ve heard it before. But it couldn’t be who I think it is.
“Those rogues weren’t ordinary. They reeked on death and decomposition.” Kwame spoke, pulling out his tablet. “After a thorough examination of the corpses by the pack embalmers, reports state each part of the rogues were in various stages of decay, some more advanced than others.”
“That brings forth another question,” Valerian spoke. “How are they able to have such immense strength during battle? Their fortitude was up to par with fully trained, full-bodied wolves. If they are rotting away, they should not have the tenacity to withstand our blowbacks.”
“The zombie rogues are under the control of someone,” I spoke up. “Armies always have a commander calling the shots from behind the chaos. The mysterious howl called back the rogues that escaped unscathed. This poses a problem if we’re facing an enemy we cannot see.”
“Magic must be involved.” I pull my attention to my Beta. “Maybe a witch is behind the attack.” He shot a childish smirk at me. “Pissed off any witches lately?”
“Not since my last visit to The Witching Hour a few months back.” I laugh to myself. The Witching Hour was a club in Las Vegas, frequented by the supernatural, a party hub for us to let loose. In all seriousness, I highly doubt a few butt-hurt elemental witches have enough power to pull off an attack of this caliber.
This attack was calculated. Whoever’s behind this madness was cowardly enough to hide their face. Anger
sizzled in my heart at the thought of my mysterious contender in hiding. The bastard attacked my home, putting everyone I care about in danger.
My pack.
My friends.
My family.
*My mate*.
The lively thoughts landed on Kiya for the umpteenth time today. As usual, she continues to avoid me like the bubonic plague. One-word answers were the norm for her. My presence offended her so much that she distances herself than be in the same room as me.
I don’t blame her. She still carries a lot of pain from the past, especially from me. Yet, I knew for a fact she feels the sparks of our bond whenever we touch, I cannot be the only one. Onyx was still restless for her. He wanted her resting in our arms where she belongs. However, claiming her heart as mine proved to be a bigger challenge.
Well, lucky for me, I love challenges.
Clearing my throat, I force my thoughts back on the situation at hand. “Magic is a strong contender in why the undead rogues are the way they are. The pack embalmers will continue to examine the corpses to discover more about what we’re dealing with. We need to find this puppeteer because I have a strong feeling that we’ll see more attacks like this.”
“I suggest we consult the Alphas of the other packs that have been attacked,” Kwame spoke. “If we could find a link between the onslaughts, we could assume we’re facing the same enemy.”
“Agreed. I’ll contact the Alphas; you both will go to The Witching Hour club to speak with witches. The last time I checked, using magic on the dead is a forbidden practice. The more insight we get from them, the closer we will be to getting answers.”
Witches were extremely strict with the ethics of magic. They can honor and bring peace to the dead, but never to use for maliciousness such as this. If I were a witch, I’d demand answers if a sacred rule was broken.
Valerian shot me a look. “You’re asking me to go to a club known for being a hub for the supernatural to ask witches for answers about zombie wolves?”
“Is that a problem?”
“It is, considering many of those witches are known to seduce wolves. Raina would go on a rampage if I come back smelling like a witch.”
Kwame shrugged. “Lorelai does not have that level of extreme jealousy, but she’d be concerned too.”
“Talk to your mates first. You both will leave tonight. Have two guards with you in case.” Despite their initial protests, both agreed to the assignment before leaving my office. The work to expose the identity of this challenger will be extensive, but it was all for the betterment and safety of the pack. I couldn’t be a weak Alpha.
These wolves needed a strong leader, and a strong leader I will be.