Mate Mysteries

Chapter 53

Hearing Krey Graymer's name had caused a huge stir between the Rogues. Pip cowered awkwardly as their curiosity turned to a deep hatred. Pip wondered what lies Debra and Jordan fed them over the years. He had no choice but to stand in front of them all and face it.

Pip had seen that look so many times before, on his aunt and uncle, Pack members, Mark, Crescent Town locals, and now someone he thought was a friend, Debra.

Her hatred hurt the worst, like a spear straight through his heart. Pips legs suddenly weighed a ton. He would have fallen to his knees and curled into a ball if the Rogue didn't grip him tighter. Pip suddenly wanted to cry, he felt tears swelling, his throat closing, and his mouth watering.

So much hatred for simply being.

Pip dropped his gaze. He couldn't stand the judgement. "Tie him up," ordered Debra. "We'll move him on later."

Pip was heaved through the cave. His heavy legs struggled to clamber over the uneven rocks. Rogues scurried out of his way as Pip was pushed into the side of the cave. He sank to the floor and a rusted chain was tied around his right wrist.

Pip's eyes followed the chain and any hope of escaping soon blew away with the wind. The chain was bolted into the stone. Pip wondered if they often kept prisoners. Quick glances left and right gave him an answer. Two men were tied up on either side of him. They both stared down at Pip with blank and lifeless eyes. Pip knew they were werewolves. He felt the presence of their wolves the same way he felt the Rogues; a deep uncomfortable churning in his gut.

He wanted to ask how long they had been in the cave, and why they were tied up. Their gaunt expressions and deprived bodies answered him. Pip was too scared to speak, especially when the Rogues found him so interesting.

Everyone looked, even shifted werewolves lifted their tired heads. Pip wondered if he would ever not feel singled out in a space full of werewolves. He was brought into their world by a bond that found him, so why did Pip have so much trouble fitting in?

Though, who would feel normal in a cave full of starved werewolves, seeking comfort in a human driven crazy from grief?

* * * * *

Krey informed the rest of his pack what was happening when he was halfway to the South. His pack also informed Krey that Francis was doing well but refusing to rest.

While running as he spoke, Krey couldn't care less about Francis. He only had eyes on the dark woods in front of him, and a panicked heart calling for Pip. "Tell her that if she dies, I'll never fucking forgive her. She can rest or piss off. She doesn't have time to die." Krey hung up and glanced behind him. His Omegas were still in wolf form and sticking close together and close to their Alpha.

Krey knelt in the cold dirt, digging his fingers among the dead autumn leaves. As he shifted, his Omegas surrounded him, sniffing the air for enemies.

Their run to the South was long and tedious. Krey passed at least 5 humans, but he didn't care. Authorities would tell him off, but he would happily tear through a city in his wolf form if it meant finding his mate.

At dawn, they reached Shadow Packs second base. The Packhouse grounds were overgrown with wild weeds tangling everything in its path. The building itself was only years from falling apart, with an old roof full of missing tiles and a few boarded-up windows. After a year and nine months of living in the place, Krey expected better.

His Aunt Saphine and Uncle Brandon stood at the entrance with solemn faces, either for his mate or for dealing with Krey Graymer so early in the morning.

Krey shifted and their frowns only deepened. He stormed to them, not bothering with politeness. "Did you find the bunker?" he asked.

Saphine, being an Alpha, clashed with Krey's presence immediately. "Not yet. We're looking."