Mine

Chapter 6

The acidic burn in the air had me wanting to cover my nose and resisting the urge to gag tried to work out where I knew it from. There was a certain degree of rotting about it, and the only thing that came to mind was the back of the farmers market Nate and I went to on Saturdays to get our fruit and vegetables for the week. I hated going there because the bins full of old produce reminded me of the orchards in the pack lands. Not all fruit was picked, and not all that was got used or sold on. Instead it was left to compost either in the similar bins to the ones at the market or under the trees where they fell. Breathing in again it was as if I was inhaling the tiny little pores of mold, I could taste the bitter tang of decaying oranges and opening my eyes I quickly closed them as memory of the stench turned out to be more fact, than something from my mind.

I was back in the packs land.

There was another smell too, the metallic scent different to the more dominant fruity aroma’s. This smell had my wolf growling and as I slowly walked in the darkness, I bumped into something above me that had the clang of metal echoing in the roof. I knew where I was now and this time I did throw up, unable to hold it together and trying to get in fresh air to help settle my stomach was hopeless. It was the shed they used to kill the cattle for human consumption. Sometimes they would hunt down the cows in wolf form; happy to feast and strengthen the bond between our two souls. For the most part, the pack ate as humans and since we lived on a farm they are also very self-sustainable.

Collapsing back to my knees I threw up again until I was doing nothing more than going through the motions. My throat was on fire, I felt dizzy and I’d kill for some water right now. Staggering to stand up, I soon realized I didn’t hurt as much as I expected to. Being picked up by the four shifters hadn’t been too brutal until it was time to get on the plane. My wrist had been bound and the red headed man had a needle, which when they had injected it felt like fire was being injected into my veins. I had passed out then.

Maybe that was all they did or maybe I was just still in shock and the pain hadn’t caught up to my senses yet. Looking around the damp, metal room I wondered how long I had actually been in here for. I couldn’t tell if it was still daylight or if was night time. If it was getting dark, how much time did I have? Closing my eyes, it was my wolf who used her senses to find the tiny crack of fresh air in a corner and from there we found the door handle. Surprisingly it was unlocked.

The door opened with a creak and pausing, the rush of fresh air had me feeling giddy with hope. No one came, there was no one outside the door and sliding through the gap I was glad I had an idea of where I was. Sure enough, an empty holding pen was to my left and I knew outside the bins that explained the rotting fruit smells would be lined up.

I had to get out. Leaving the shed, the sun was gone and the twilight between the day and night had the sky melting from the pale blue, streaked with orange to the inky darkness of night. I was running out of time and looking around, the few paddocks that greeted me were empty. Then I smelt it, breaking through the death that hovered around the shed – smoke.

It was a tradition of our kind to burn our dead under a full moon, ensuring their soul is released into the afterlife under the watchful and protective gaze of the moon goddess herself. Alpha would be having his sendoff once the full moon began to rise and I didn’t want to know what they had planned after that.

Keeping low, my wolf refused to let me shift. I thought I would be able to move around better in her form, but apparently not. The next hill lead into one of the orchards and moving amongst the farming equipment was glad the night gave me the ability to hide. I had planned on leaving, avoiding the main house and the bonfire – until I sensed that Nate was here.

Creeping closer, the majority of the pack seemed to have gathered around the pyre as the torches that lit up the area Nate’s’ birthday marquee had once sat, were put against the wood and hay instantly lighting up in a rush of orange and red flames. Where was Nate?