6- Calming My beast

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Joe

'Den' is what we call our dungeon. Every packhouse of every pack has one, where we pull flesh from bone sometimes to get answers. As a member of my pack, Sloan has to deal with our primitive law, and not human law.

Lucky for us, a member of my pack was in the station when Benita Meadows went to give her statement about her former boss. Officer Penn had not been the one to meet the girl, but he did in fact erase the report after I instructed him to.

See, human law would have possibly given Sloan a penalty then he walks free but me; no. Our barbaric ways will either mend him, or he dies. But he will admit to his errors which we do not condone- especially heinous acts and two; he did it to my woman.

My wolf is uneasy now. Just as before- he is seething with the mention of Sloan and now that he knows we have the leech, he is pacing inside me- growling in a threatening manner. Most eager to come out.

My beast is like a maniac, with mood swings. One second, he's like a strawberry covered with chocolate, then in another second to, kill-kill-kill.

Reagan and the others must be near the packhouse by now, so I must head there.

Sloan has been in hiding since his unfortunate episode with the girl. As a member of my pack, mistakenly, his dirty thoughts slipped and mind-linked with Seth, in his excitement to have the girl.

But how brave of him to even dare to touch her when he knows the story of us. When he knows she and I are destined to be- however much I refuse to accept her as mine. She still is mine. Just as I am hers.

Yes, I dared play with fire but Sloan- oh-ho-ho, Sloan had jumped into the pits of it. I could not wait to hear his sorry excuses. "Sorry Alpha, I thought you did not want her."

Or possibly; "Sorry Alpha, the girl begged me to take her," which I know is a lie, but I also know how sleazeballs think. I have dealt with a few.

Sorry, hah. He sure will be. His filthy hands touched my- I closed my eyes feeling the wolf threatening to come out. As if my Benita will want him. Anticipating the lies ahead, I feel my more dominant side, seeping at the edge.

Calm beasty, calm.

Opening my desk drawer, I retrieved a small vile and opened it, swallowing the contents in one gulp, and closed my eyes waiting for the effects to take place. To calm me. If I don't, I will tear Sloan's limbs apart from his body one by one, his screams would excite me building my adrenaline more. The smell of his blood, the sight of it spilling out of his body would be an exhilarating experience for me.

Beasty has been so active recently that I find myself thinking we are two different people entirely. He even has me slipping sometimes and I think it is because he had sensed her even before she got here. Sensed the pull I mean.

It, not he. It.

Benita and I are tied souls- meaning she is made of me and I for her. It works this way with us- with humans too but they are impatient and too many, so I get the part where they 'fall in love' and settle.

With werewolves it's ten times more heightened and since we normally are in packs, and fewer, we find each other more easily than humans find their soul partners.

Ten times more, is almost a frenzied state, this is why I had no choice in the matter but to snooze him- of sorts. Snooze that part of myself. With a purification charm.

Maddie is a siphon and the only werewolf in our pack who possesses this gift.

She is a subsection of witches- her father a werewolf, her mother a witch, making her a hybrid. Born without the ability to generate her own magic but obtained a rare power that allowed her to siphon magic from other sources and use that magic as her own.

Needless to say, she was kicked out of her own family the day she was born to her mother. Her father was allowed to keep the babe, if he promised to leave the woman he loved. Legends tell of a tale that werewolves were descendants of scorned witches.

Witches that gave birth or conceived while practicing dark magic.

So, we are cursed in the minds of witches. Me, however, I do not believe in that nonsense. Believing in that is believing my bloodline is an abomination.

Maddie has accepted her faith whether she truly believes in the tale or not. I can only believe what she tells me. I cannot read what is in the depths of a heart.

The fact is that her mother abandoned her at birth. She sees it as I see it. Why would the Moon God choose a witch as a mate for a Dire wolf? Why would a God be involved with an abomination, to begin with?

Questions. No true answers, just fabrication. So very few important questions needed to be asked for the answers to be found. But nobody wants to seek the truth.

It takes another minute, after swallowing the contents in the tiny vile, for my wolf to retreat then I make my way downstairs. And the joy my beast felt when he first saw her coming up to the conference room, earlier, returns when I hear her voice at the front door entrance as I am making my way downstairs.

Now that she is at a somewhat safe distance from me, I allow myself to admire her, through the upper part of the glass door slightly ajar.

I feel elated and prideful.

"Bullet holes in the front door, blood stains on the carpet, metal detectors at the entrance. Yeah, this looks like a great place to have a few drinks and let my guard down."

I feel my beast grinning widely. He is me and I am him. Unlike regular werewolves who say they could have a conversation with their wolves, I cannot. My beast and I are one. My entire pack of dire wolves are the same.

We feel each other's thoughts and emotions, though sometimes- rare- like now, where the beast can overpower me. He does not do so now because I have numbed that part of me, but I can sense he could when it comes to Benita, his mate.

My mate.

But I act on my more human side, whereas he will do so on instinct- animal instinct. To take claim of whichever he believes is his. When this happens, it's like I take a backseat to my own being. Yes, I do have some sort of say there but it's sort of like being high- the power you feel just fuels your adrenalin, numbing everything else.

In humans it's mostly sex, right? In us werewolves, it's blood and gore.

And right now, as I wait on the upper floor, stuck on the stairway until my newly owned hymen leaves, my beast is trashing around inside me because her scent is driving that part of me, crazy.

Sheila pushed the door closed then, saving me.

I've tried explaining to myself that I cannot simply just go up to her and start doing the dirty that my beast is shaking to do. We have to court her slowly- painfully slow. To me, it is almost normal, but my inner animal is accustomed to just shagging- at least this is what his instinct lets him feel.

He sees mate and boom- shagging.

This is why I refused to see any picture of her in the last few years. I just requested an update which was given to me on a need-to-know basis, by another trusted member of my pack. Samson. And the only reason why I chose him is because he was mated to someone.

The others are a no-no, because they are single and can sense when a wolf is in heat. That is trouble when their beast takes over and no harm can ever come to my Benita. I could possibly burn the world for her.

That's bad.

Benita's situation did hurt me a bit but not much. It was like being human- a selfish part of me, was punishing her father for keeping her away from me. I watched her suffer for years and did nothing but offer her a job at one of the cafes I owned.

Most of the buildings belong to me on that particular street. If I did not own the building, then I would own some of the people that ran businesses.

While Sloan was supposed to give her any extra shifts she wanted and Seth made it abundantly clear to him, to 'keep a good eye on her', Sloan used the term to his advantage and almost-

Roaring loudly, I clench my teeth, making my way out through the back exit. 

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