The Hunted

Five

Red

"I don't like this, Red."

Henry dropped the report, pages scattering across his desk as he folded his head into his hands. The motion made him look younger than normal. Sometimes it was easy to forget that they were the same age. Only twenty-six but Henry was prone to shouldering the weight of the entire pack on his back and there were days that Red looked at his Alpha and saw an old man. Someone whose eyes were much too heavy and stressed for how old he truly was.

Red collapsed onto the couch. "Me either. But I checked again this morning and the hole has definitely gotten larger. Lehna reached out and said that she's messaged some of the other faerie Courts. She's just waiting on responses now but she has no idea why it would be breaking down unless it was an intentional hit."

"So, what you're saying is that we should be readying for some kind of attack? From who? We haven't made any enemies recently that I'm aware of."

"None on my radar either. I checked in with Monroe earlier. She's going to send out some feelers to other packs. See if any of them have experienced the same. It'd be nice to know if we're dealing with something broad-scale or if it's an isolated incident."

"Good. That's good. How are our warriors looking?"

Red hesitated. The truth was that it had been too long since any of them had seen any sort of action. There had been no inter-pack conflicts in over a decade and the end of the Shadow World War – which saw beings of all kinds pitted against each other for territory and hunting rights – had been centuries ago. They were a strong pack but not the strongest out there. A happy medium, like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Not too weak, not too strong.

But now Red was worried that the lack of conflict and strength was going to be a severe hindrance. It was the first time in his life he'd felt that kind of fear.

"Green," he said at last. "Most of them are young. Haven't seen any kind of fighting before. The older guys remember what it was like when there was the intense conflict with those rogue bands but we haven't had to deal with them in a few decades, long before our time in charge. Our most experienced warriors are the ones like us who fought at the Creek."

A senseless, bloody battle. The first Red had ever been a part of. It had taken place a nearly decade prior when Red and Henry had been sixteen. Henry's father – Adrian – had still been the Alpha when he'd grabbed the two of them and towed them out to the Alder Creek pack in California. They'd been dealing with a vampire problem and had requested aid. Adrian had consented, bringing along two dozen warriors, his son, and Red.

Though Henry and Red had been brought along only to witness and learn, eventually being charged with guarding those who could not fight, they had found themselves in the thick of the fighting when the Alder Creek's Alpha was slain.

Without thinking, they'd plunged into the fray. Red had trained for years for that moment but he would never forget the tang of blood in his mouth, the snarling fury that boiled the blood in his veins, as he'd fought and guarded Henry against meeting the same fate as the dead Alpha.

In the years that had followed, even after Henry had been named Alpha, the Sanguis Ridge Pack continued to send aid wherever it was asked, but always cautiously. Volunteer fighters only. That courtesy extended to Red as well, in spite of his Lead Warrior status, but he'd never been one to back away from a fight. He'd always gone and stood tall and proud, leading as was his job.