ROWAN.
“Of all the things you have done, this has to be the most reckless!” I snap as I intentionally increase the pressure in a particular wound.
He winces before sending me a glare over his shoulder.
“I am already hurt!” He snaps. “You don’t have to make it worse.”
“Of course I do. How else am I going to get into your head how incredibly foolish your actions were? He is rabid. You said it yourself. Rabid! You know how unnaturally strong those wolves can get. And you still fought him. He could have killed you!”
“But he didn’t.”
“But he could have!”
My heart had almost flown out of my chest when he had walked into the room, holding his sides.
It was torn, deep cuts from claws ripping through his skin. The wounds are still very fresh, showing his muscle and sinew, with the blood still flowing.
His face is swollen and bruised, especially around his jaw where a punch must have hit.
A cut above his eye bleeds down his cheek, mixing with dirt and sweat. His clothes are torn and drenched in blood.
His arm is hanging at an awkward angle, obviously broken while he holds onto his ribs with his other hand, grimacing in pain.
His eyes meet mine, filled with pain but also a fierce determination. He’s in bad shape, but I can see he’s not ready to give in to unconsciousness.
Rabid wolves… like dogs are meant to be put down.
It can be said to be a mercy
In that state, everything they hold dear is corroded and corrupted and destroyed by the innate savageness of the wolf.
Whatever humanity, love, or care they might have once had would be wiped away by the overwhelming urge to assert dominance over everything and destruction over those who would not submit.
And for someone like Dominic, who was already a bastard, this was a fucking problem.
And the worst part is no one knows how it came about or how to cure it.
Only death.
Pure, merciful death.
“Why?” I whisper. “Why did you fight him when you knew he was rabid?”
He stares at me for a few seconds before turning away.
“I got cocky,” he says after a long silence. “I thought I could handle him. And I was also angry. A lot of things have happened these past few days… I wanted him to hurt.”
“You are supposed to be Viktor Thorn of the Vale pack. The most ruthless and dynamic wolf. The one most wolves fear. With the way he has wounded you now, some of that mysticism would fade. Viktor… we can’t have that. Your reputation must remain the same or even better. We have to do something that will give him pause.”
“You want a retaliation.”
“Yes. And not just because we have to maintain your reputation but because I am beyond pissed. He hurt you. He would have killed you. I want to hurt him as well,” I tell him as I dab more ointment on his wound.
“What do you have in mind?” He asks before wincing at my touch.
“I don’t know yet. There are very few things that Dominic holds dear. His reputation is among them. If there is a way we can bring that even lower. Make him look more weak and pathetic…”
“I see. We have decimated his reputation by the way he deals with those outside, so there is not much we can do on that front. But if we can show just how terrible of an alpha he is to his members, that can work.”
“And we can’t use the wolves that fled from his pack,” I infer. “That would just put a target on their backs and that is the last thing I want them to go through.’
“Hmm. It could also end badly for us. If Dominic puts enough pressure on them, they might say that we had fixed them into this situation.”
“But they were the ones that left the pack, they said the renouncement pledge. No one could have forced them to do that. How would they be able to blame us?”
“It might not stick,” he murmurs. “But it will still be mud. And we don’t want it flung at us. In this fight we are in, we must try to remain and continue to appear as the aggrieved party as much as we can. So that any action we take on him, will be seen as justice and not flat out vengeance.”
“Hmm. Fair point. Maybe we can ask the wolves -the escapees- of his treatment in the pack. We could…”
“No. We can’t ask or use whatever information they give. They left, Rowan, and they renounced their pack. Whatever information we are going to get has to come from within his pack or from people who might be looked upon as traitors.”
“That sucks. If those who have escaped can’t speak up, how is there supposed to be any justice? Where would those from within be able to talk to? This system sucks!” I mutter.
“I know. But it is what we have now and it is what we are going to have to make do with.”
“Ugh. Fine. So, how do we get information from a pack as tightly clamped as the Obsidian pack?”
“We will have to send in spies. Find out information…”
“Wouldn’t that be the same as getting information from the escaped wolves.?” I ask. “And in addition to the Intel coming from an outsider -an enemy pack, no less- we will be accused of doing the same thing as he did. Spying on packs.”
“Hmm. You have a point.”
“Maybe… we can turn someone.”
“Turn?” He asks with a grunt.
“From his pack. Someone who resents him enough to want to see his downfall. But in order to find out who that person might be…”
“We still need to send in a spy,” he finishes.
“Exactly. So. Who do we send?”