Hunted

Chapter 25

Dedicated cuz I recently rediscovered her work and just went and read through it all again while wondering how the heck I had managed to get so behind with reading her stuff... By the way, you realllyyyyy need to update ;P

Chapter 25-Amias' POV

I stared at the head for a few moments, not able to believe what I was seeing. My brother... He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be! I’d only sent him out on patrol a little while ago. He’d sent me a scathing look, grunting about how he shouldn’t have to take orders from his little brother. And now he was-

                “What happened?” I asked. I meant for my voice to come out strong, but I sounded like a scared little boy. I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze away from Alec and up to Malkolm, who was as quiet as a mouse. His features were pinched with despair.

                From the corner of my eye, I noticed all of my pack crowding around us in the middle of the clearing, but I paid them little attention. While they had been whispering in shock before, they were silent as death now.

                “What happened?” I roared, my composure slipping. Malkolm’s green eyes held mine steadily, sadly, before sliding down and focusing on Alec’s head. I followed his gaze.

                My older brother’s lifeless hazel eyes captivated me like nothing else had. I had become so used to their expressive nature that it seemed so abhorrent to see them empty now. These eyes had looked at me with happiness, sadness, hatred and love. And now they were just...blank. 

                It was probably the shock of the situation that made me fail to notice it. Once I’d seen it, I didn’t know how I could have missed it. After all, it was pretty hard not to notice the carving on my brother’s forehead.

                Against my will, my feet carried me closer so I could get a better look. It was sick, horrible, and made my stomach roll dangerously, but I had to get closer. I had to see for myself what had happened to him so I could retaliate in kind...

                Engraved into my Alec’s forehead was a leaf. When I looked closer still, I realised that it wasn’t an ordinary leaf. The leaf was on fire. Which only meant one thing.

                War.

                Growing up as an Alpha’s son, you were taught all about common symbolisms between packs. A lotus flower symbolised peace after war – a truce. A simple cross with the initials of a pack under it meant that a pack needed help. A circle (which represented the moon) was the sign of a Shaman. And a leaf set aflame? It meant a pack had declared war on you. It meant that they hoped you, your pack and your land all burnt to the ground until there was nothing left of you but ashes.

                Usually the symbol was engraved into a stone and tossed into the enemy pack’s territory at one of its members (who were typically on patrol). Sometimes the pack even went as far as pissing on the stone just to further anger you. But White Falls – and I knew it was them; the little WF signature underneath the horrific artwork told me it was them – White Falls had taken it a step further.

                These dicks were serious.

                Did Alpha Roark seriously think that this would deter me? If anything, it made me angrier. It made the hatred I already had for him bubble and boil. He’d murdered the only family I had left in this world and then tried to steal my mate from me?

                My rage grew in time with my grief. I trembled from the force of emotions rushing through me, wanting, needing to release them somehow before they consumed me. But they stuck to me, feasting on my rational thoughts until all that remained was a beast. A blood-thirsty, furious beast that desired nothing short of a bloody retribution.