Obsidian Night Pack

63

The week after I killed Castle, Region, or I guess Vincent now, decided to use me. I didn't know if he had been planning this all along or if it was suddenly an opportunity that he was fully prepared to take advantage of.

He saw me broken, more broken than a werewolf with no wolf. He saw me confused and scared and used it, all of it. He kept me in the basement of the Battle Creek pack, not alone though. There were corpses. The smell burned my nose from half of the corpses rotting away while the others were being soaked in formaldehyde. Some were tossed in corners while others laid on tables.

Vincent told me this was where I would stay and that I had to earn my keep. I was the one that cut the bodies and I had no idea why.

At first, I was reluctant to cut them, go near them, but the more Region pushed me, hit me, and didn't feed me the more I was persuaded that disgracing the dead was better than joining them.

It got to the point where sleep was of little use to me solely because I didn't gain anything from it that I needed. The rest was overrated. What I needed, or wanted was food and water and I could earn those through breaking down bodies. The more I went through the more I got fed. Until even that wasn't enough to satisfy Region's need to torment me.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing I knew I was resting on the couch in the packhouse's living room. Rooms such as these were usually filled with wolves rotating in and out. Either resting from a day's work or waiting for a friend to meet up with. At least that how it was in Bright Moon. Maybe they did it differently here though because this room was completely deserted. It seemed as if the entire packhouse was abandoned.

"What the living fuck happened!" I heard Alaric whispering in an agitated voice to I could only assume was the pack doctor. We hadn't been out of his office for half an hour and he was already being called back into service right around the corner in the kitchen.

"A panic attack, Alpha, whatever she went through over there it had a lasting effect."

"How do we treat this what do we do?"

"There are some medications that I can look into, but I won't know exactly how to treat these if you won't let me treat her." The pack doctor emphasized the word treat as if I had refused it just moments ago.

"She's not ready to talk about it, she fucking almost died a moment ago from me explaining our findings on who abducted her!" The stress in Alaric's voice rang out as shots fired.

"Alpha, I say this with the utmost respect, but the Luna is my patent. Perhaps she just isn't ready to talk to you about what happened, but talking about it or at least going into therapy is what I highly recommend right now." Growls of frustration could be heard in response to what the pack doctor had said to Alaric.

"However, Alpha, the Luna is not my only patient, I am also concerned for your wellbeing as well."

"I'm fine!"

"Alpha, again I say this with the most utmost respect for you, but even an Alpha as strong as yourself would suffer being separated from his mate for so long. Especially if she were not to complete the mating rituals."

"I. Am. Fine. Mention this to anyone, especially the Luna and I will have your throat. Are we clear." Not a question, but an order.

"Patient pack doctor confidentiality, Alpha." The conversation ended and I could hear the small, shuffling footsteps of the old pack doctor who was most likely use to the titles being thrown in his face now and then.

My head hurt, not only from all the information Alaric had thrown at me about Vincent and the Iron Providence pack but also about the information my brain was trying to process now. It felt slow though, like walking through molasses or running in a dream and never getting anywhere. The words the pack doctor and said to Alaric about himself. Was Alaric okay? Not, the pack doctor was worried.