Under Investigation

Chapter 1

Roberto Lee paces the length of his office, my eyes trail after my fathers form, on edge. Even if we do share blood, he makes my skin crawl. My wolf, Nera growls softly to me, angered by his presence. His tall, muscled build encased in a simple, elegant gray suit. "Where's Anthony?" My father pauses at the window, his stern features overcast, like the pack, in an ominous gray cloud. "We're supposed to be in a meeting." At that, he turns his shadowed black eyes on me.

His direct stare makes my wolf glare, disgusted as he tries to hold rank over us. "I'm not sure, last I heard he was on his collection rounds." I offer a bland expression and an uninterested shrug. The pack would be better off rogue, away from the greedy man. He siphons any and everything from the pack, hoarding it for himself and his status. To keep them all trapped. Paying to be under his 'guidance'; to pay for his abusive, narcissistic mistreatment. How kind of him. He stares at me for a minute before his brow flicks up in annoyance.

"Go find him then Adira." He nearly spits my name out with a growl, hating to use it. It reminds him too much of mother after all. A constant reminder of his actions, a fit of rage at her disobedience killed her. She was in cahoots with the council, against him in his eyes. Unacceptable to have his own mate disowning his ways. It was too easy for him to kill her, to leave her to rot as if she were no better than a rogue on trial for killing a pack member. He's a disgrace of a man.

Nera released a silent snarl at the thought, he's evil, always has been, always will be. So riddled with greed no amount of love or warmth could break the frigid shell of him, nor his wolf. "As you wish." He offers a sharp glance and a low growl in warning as I bow mockingly and step from the room. The tightness in my skin of my bristling fur slowly eases with each step I take from the office. We'll never make it right with him here. I hate to agree with Nera, but I know she speaks the truth. No matter how many times we've tried to right the wrongs of his ways, we're always steps shy from making a difference.

It'll always be that way. Nera snorts her disgust. Father keeps such a careful eye on me it's impossible to talk with the pack, to do anything really. We're prisoners, just like them, if not worse. The bland walls echo an impossible lifelessness, a dull cry of sorrow, strict order and hatred. A lack of decoration has always left this house a prison, even when mother was alive. The only difference between the cells and these walls is the expensive furniture bought with stolen money.

Built from the pack's poverty. How can you live with yourself? I may not whip the members of the Blood Lust pack, but I share a name with the devil himself. To some, I'm just as evil, just as tainted. Some days, I'm not even sure I know the answer to that. Maybe I am just as bad as he is, possibly worse. I hide behind the thin guise of 'attempting' to protect the pack, in all reality I've caused just as much pain. Who's the bigger evil?

As I step from the grand mansion I pause and let my eyes scan the clearing before me. The barren landscape, even in the middle of spring, always looks as if it's on the cusp of death. Brittle and sickly yellow grass is tinged with an invasive brown. The trees are barren, branches stretch wide, grasping at the air like bony fingers. It's rare to see the ill trees with a canopy, even when leaves do grow, it's a thin meager greenery, destroyed by the weight that's settled over the pack grounds.

Nothing about this pack is inviting. People only come to this pack because they've been banished and pray the rumors are false. Going rogue is almost less of a death sentence nowadays; at least you can find others to make a pact with. Father is a horrible dictator. He makes an example out of anyone who doesn't bow down to him immediately. Our world has changed, not for the better either. We're devolving, more feral than our predecessors who were more wolf than us.