Mating Season

John Doe

Prepare for a time skip in this chapter! Are you eager to see the new and hopefully improved Amber? 

How about Lucas? <.<

Chapter Five (John Doe)

Six Years Later

He wasn't moving.

He lay on the ground, face down, soaking in a dark pool of his own blood. The full moon cast eerie shadows about the forest that manifested into frightening, wraithlike figures on the forest's floor. In Amber's mind, she imagined the nightmarish figures reaching for the male, ready to devour him. The night's heavy breeze made the barren trees sway and creak, the last of their tanned leaves scattering away. A spot of moonlight eerily engulfed him.

It was a scene from a horror movie that raised her hackles.

Amber stepped out of the shadows and edged closer to the dead body, suppressing a shiver. The horrid stench of aged corpse stung her nostrils and burned her eyes. Her wolf reeled. Gaspard walked past her and stopped just in front of the body. With his foot, he nudged the male onto his back. Claw marks had been carved deep into his chest with every intention to kill, exposing his abdomen and what lay beneath. A fatal wound. Amber moved closer to examine the wound. Glassy blue eyes stared back at her, robbed of the twinkle known only to the living. The werewolf male had long brown hair and a stubbled face.

Never had such a thing happened in the Raven Wolves territory. Theirs was a peaceful pack of rogues and misfits that were unwanted anywhere else. As long as no one messed with them, the Raven Wolves did not mess with anyone and took special care not to incite or provoke any other packs in the vicinity. After all, it had taken them years to find this patch of unclaimed land to settle on.

"It's faint, but I can smell another scent on him. Werewolf." Gaspard's face was set in stone, his eyes fixated on the dead body.

Amber nodded once. She could smell it too. Although barely noticeable by anyone that didn't have a trained nose, there was a distinct male werewolf scent all over the dead body. It had to belong to the murderer.

The alarm had to be raised. For a dead body to be left by someone at the heart of their lands with no one the wiser until it was cold and decaying meant two things. One; that someone had infiltrated their territory without them ever sensing it. And two; that this person was strong and skilled enough to enter undetected by even her, which also meant whoever it was could pose as a potential threat to her pack.

The thought of harm coming to her family caused dread to unfurl in Amber's guts. If any of them were to fall prey to a heartless killer who would kill them in such a way...

She shivered.

Gaspard's hand snaked around Amber's waist and he pulled her to him.

"We'll find the bastard." Gaspard, as always, spoke with a conviction and a certainty that she sometimes envied him for. She was grateful for it now.

"We have to," she said, leaning into him for support.

****

Michael watched the two male and female werewolves snuggled intimately from a safe distance, the blood boiling in his veins. His eyes fell on his former comrade and pack member. Eric had sent an urgent, telepathic S.O.S message just before going off the grid a couple of weeks ago. After days of running, Michael finally found the Shadow Hunters' Beta. Or his butchered corpse, that is.

And his murderers now stood over Eric's body, admiring their handiwork.

From where he stood concealed behind some dense foliage, Michael could only see their backs. He sensed that they were strong, possibly Betas or even Alphas. He couldn't fight them on his own.

But now he knew where to find them, and he would be back with reinforcements.

He had to let his Alpha know as soon as possible.

****

A near-full moon decorated the night sky tonight.

Amber absolutely hated the few nights of the week when the moon would slowly but surely become full. Werewolves' senses heightened to their full potential on nights of the full moon, which was part of why she hated them. For instance, she could hear the twins in the basement jamming atrociously on their new set of drums. Outside, she could smell Antonia cooking her latest invented recipe to use in the diner the pack owned.

Then there was the other reason why she absolutely loathed full-moon nights.

It was because every nerve, every fiber and every cell in her body were tuned in, waiting to sense just one individual. Every month it was the same. The wolf in her wanted –needed—someone she could never have. She stirred and purred restlessly, aggravatingly, for someone she absolutely refused and would not allow herself to think about on other days of the month.

These past six years, it had been like this; an unceasing, merciless cycle that knew no end. It didn't even get easier with time.

Because it was a near full moon tonight, she'd been unable to attend the meeting she'd called herself. She was afraid her pack members would smell... her need.

Amber loathed the full moon. She loathed it with a vengeance.

She turned away from the window to find none other than Gaspard splayed out on the orange leather couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table right next to her evening nacho snack.

Few people were capable of sneaking up on the Alpha of the Raven Wolves, and fewer still could do it without fear of retribution. Completely hiding one's presence was a very complicated, very difficult skill only someone worthy of becoming an Alpha or a Beta was capable of.

She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It read 11:37. The meeting had ended half an hour ago and it had taken a little less than two hours.

"So how did the meeting go?" Amber asked, moving to snatch her bowl of nachos off the table before something horrid from Gaspard's mud-caked shoes fell into it.

"I told the pack about the dead body and the curfew."

She'd seen it best to put up a curfew at ten in the evening, considering the circumstances. That way, there was less chance of any of her pack members coming to harm. Amber would not be able to handle someone precious to her meeting such a wretched fate.

"And?"

Gaspard chuckled, "Derek complained. A lot."

Amber rolled her eyes. It was so like young Derek to protest at the thought of taking away even a little bit of his precious 'space' and freedom, even if it was for his own safety. She could picture the younger, dark-haired rebel in the meeting being the first to voice his displeasure very candidly. "And?"

"We set up a patrol schedule like you wanted. Three people in the morning shifts, four in the evening. We'll work around the ones with jobs and shifts at the diner. I told all of them to especially watch the borders since that's where we found our John Doe."

Amber's mind simply wouldn't dispose of the corpse's gruesome image. It kept coming to her every time she shut her eyes.

She settled next to her Beta with the bowl of nachos, a smaller bowl of chunky salsa tucked in its midst.

"How long will we have this up?" Gaspard asked with a mouthful of nachos. Though he looked indifferent, the tone of his voice told Amber that her Beta was just as unsettled and anxious about this sudden ordeal as she was.

She met his hard gaze. "Until we can be sure we're safe again."

They both fell silent. 

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

A storm is brewing. Can you foresee what lies ahead? 

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