The Hunter's Wolf

Fallen Archer

Fallen Archer

Valentino's POV

"Alpha, there have been sightings of a group of rogues by the Southern Border. Five men and two females, over the age of 20s, coming from No Man's Land."

"Gather squadron one. Round them up and interrogate them."

"The Crescent Pack just called. They want an update regarding the business transaction."

"It will proceed as planned. Do apologize about the delay, and inform them that the shipment will be delivered in person. I may have a word or two to exchange with the Alpha."

I glance up from my paperwork, now noticing the horde of fellow wolf mates sitting around the long table in my office, some already leaving from the orders that I just barked out, while a few others are discussing on pack matters. I turn my head towards Bree; Captain in hand-to-hand combat, and asks, "Where is Nathan now ?"

She shrugs, "Left through the Western border."

My mate is being held in the West Wing of the pack house.

I exhale a breath of sigh and try to mind-link either one of the twins, 'Steven, status report.'

'The Luna is asleep. She skipped dinner.'

'It is fine, Steve,' I say, hearing the anxiety in his mind, 'Contact me if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary.'

'Always, sir,' he answers, and closes the mind-link.

Nathan is not someone to be taken lightly of. When everybody seems to believe that he has left the pack's territory, but being the Alpha and ruler of this land, I can feel the vibrations of his foot as he steps on my grounds, somewhere hidden amongst the thick woods just near the border.

I can feel him; his breath, and even his unbeating heart.

He seems to have figured out a way where he can achieve his target alternatively, without my objection nor my intervention.

Bree takes my attention back with a whisper of her voice, "It's rare to see you like this."

I glance up at her and raise my eyebrows questioningly, "Like what ?"

"Agitated, worked-up, bothered," she spouts out everything that seem to describe me out of her point of view. She leans her back onto the seat and asks, trying to keep an open mind, "A penny for your thoughts ?"

I grin. "No, you'd want your penny back," I say, "Besides, it's personal."

The smile on her face seem to fade away. She knows what and who I am talking about; the subject of the matter that seem to occupy my mind and make me lose my composure, but she keeps a closed mouth, along with her opinions.

A set of knocks on the door pitch the atmosphere between us away, and my enhanced senses pick up the scent waiting on my doorstep.

"Took you long enough," I scold him playfully as the blond-haired, blue eyes pubescent boy enters my office, his clothes and half his lower body covered in dried mud.

He scratched the back of his head, brown leaves from the Autumn falling from his ruffled hair. "Sorry," he apologizes, "I got caught up by something."

I eye him up for a bit longer, him fidgeting and squirming under my gaze, then I decide that he is telling truth, so I nod at him in acknowledgement and lower my voice.

"Report."

The debrief is the usual routine for him. "Thirty percent of the deserters have declined drastically through the week, their movements seem to be a sort of evacuation. With the hunters occupying almost a quarter of No Man's Land, deserters are either seeking refuge or sanctuary from willing packs. The remaining of them are fleeing North, to the Outlanders."