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Chapter 2: Derailed plans

The full moon sat in the night's sky like a polished pearl button on a black coat, casting rays upon an alley where Grey stood. His hands in his pocket and hood over his head.

He was hunting tonight like every other full moon. But this night was special for he hunted not an animal but a demon in human form. In a breath, he pulled-in the night's spring air, one distinct scent stood out. He followed the trail, walking through bends and turns till he arrived at the black steel gates of a house.

He banged on the gate with his fist and took a step back to wait. He waited and waited but there was no answer. His fist came on the gate to knock again...

"What do you want?" A voice rang behind him. Grey turned towards the man, a smile under his hood like a predator finally sighting its prey.

"You know what I want Hermes!" Grey said not sparing the harshness in his tone.

"I don't have it!" The demon said griping a dagger with glossy black steel behind him. A middle aged man with pure black eyes that could tear through a soul.

"Who has it?" Grey asked. His long history with demons, one long reoccurring lesson on never trusting a demon. He needs the Obsidian blade, the only weapon capable of killing a god.

"The sword has a new guardian, they knew you would come for it!" His voice didn't shake, solid and cold like look on his face.

"If indeed it was moved then you knew I would be here. I hope for your sake you prepared enough!" Grey brought a hand out of his pocket.

"Wait... I can help you! I can tell you how to find it!" Hermes said his whole cold expression changing to one of dismay.

"Speak!" Grey woke fire in the pit of his palm.

"First you must give me your word to let me live!" Hermes said his worry visibly turning to total fear.

"I will kill you! All I can promise is to make it quick!" He kindled the flames brighter with the movement of his fingers.

"Then you die!" In a swift motion he threw the dagger getting Grey's left shoulder and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Grey winced in pain slowly pulling the dagger out. The edges of the bleeding wound glowed like embers of a dieing flame but did not heal as he expected. Instead black veins spread outward from the wound...

"Of-course, Obsidian ore!" He swore under his breath as his whole whole arm went numb.

He pushed his right hand into the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, limping back the way he came followed by drops of burning blood on dirty alley tiles. He came out to the streets full of cars and people running after numerous Taxis on the busy road.

He flagged a taxi and got in away from the prying eyes of the people around him.

"Grace'affe hotel!" He said. Without another word the car was in motion. Good for Grey the cab driver didn't ask questions but took him directly to the hotel he was staying.

Sliding in his key paired with a quick turn of the handle, the door came ajar to a small room decorated with splashes of royal blue against the yellow wallpaper. The furnitures modern under white light fixtures.

He went straight for his duffel bag on the bed and pulled out a glass jar full of green luminescent paste. A broken smile spread across his face as he thought of his pack doctor and best friend. Allen had given him a cure to all poison with pride and smiles. 'The nine herbs of wonder' he called it.

Pouring a rich amount on his fingers he jammed it into the wound massaging the insides. He bit down hard on a torn pieces of his hoodie as his face flushed red with pain. Once the wound began to sizzled he pulled out his hand falling down to the bed.

His knuckle white from clasping his fist together with great strength. The wound slowly knit itself back together till there was nothing but a thin line of red skin.

Grey let out a sigh of relief as he pulled the gag out of his mouth. 'Tonight is not a complete failure' he thought holding up the bloody dagger. He stared at the fine Obsidian stone carved into a perfect knife with two smooth and sharp edges held by a red leather wrapped handle.

He took the blade with him into the showers to wash off blood and get himself clean. walking out clad in a black sweat shirt and tracksuit pants, he closed the blade into a black wooden box which only he knew the combination to open its locks. He placed the box in his duffel bag zipping it securely.

Laying back on the bed he thought of the old days. The time before his pack, the time before he met Lana. He was free but nevertheless lonely with nothing but unending time on his hands. He never figured out the reason he couldn't die. Even when his beating heart was taking out of him, he woke the next day in no pain without even as much as a scratch.

As time advanced he never cared for demons with hunger for destruction, werewolves with gifts from their wolf spirits, witches with their un-balanced power and short temper or even got too close to humans as he dominated a part of their world.

By day he ran the biggest chain of art galleries and auction houses in all of America. Buying luxury homes and being able to do or get whatever he wanted in the snap of his finger. By night he was a wolf thundering through rough woods hunting down prey or howling at the moon, his only true companion.

He was never one for pack life till he met Lana. He swung his thought to his beta. Cautiously avoiding the image of Lana trying to pop into his mind.

His nostrils suddenly caught an in-human scent. In a jolt he took off from the bed and got the box out of the duffel bag. Planting his heel into a floor board it elevated giving him enough room to stash it away safely.

The scent rode the wind again but this time stronger from different directions.

"Werewolves!" He said in a whisper as he turn of the lights. He stood in between the door and the window. Ears keen, listening for sounds. He heard quiet footsteps approaching the door and stood still. Under normal circumstances he would never be worried about werewolves because they were his kind even though they could be brutal. He worried because this wasn't his territory and trespassing is a crime punishable by death. Especially now that he is a lone wolf without a pack.

The footsteps coming in closer, one by the window. Two by the door. His fists up and ready as he wondered which one will breach first. He payed unwavering attention while the dust pouring down on the bed from the ceiling above went unnoticed.

The door handle turned gaining his focus. It slowly moved inward and Grey crouched ready to spring the attacker. All of a sudden the door was pushed open and on its cue a man dropped from a broken hole in the ceiling. Before Grey could react three darts had gone into his chest. The other men ran in at the precise time his body hit the ground. They took Grey's limp body up to a kneeling position. He was awake but couldn't move a muscle even if his life depended on it. and it did.

"Alpha Grey, by decree you are to be brought before the Alpha council to stand trial for the murder of the wolves in your charge.." The Man covered in dust from the ceiling started holding a sack with both hands. His mask concealing his face perfectly like every other one of them.

"You will be held in the Shadow Lake pack where you will stand trial till your sentence has been issued." With a wave of his hand the sack was pulled over Grey's head and he was dragged out to a waiting Van...

____

Grey felt the hard shove that landed him on stone surface both beneath and behind him. He heard the loud sound of metal against metal and the clinking of keys as locks turned. The tranquilizer had started to wear-off giving him a little control over his limbs. His hand when to his head and tugged off the head sack. Getting used to the dark his eyes roamed the cold dungeon made of stone and sealed shut by painted silver bars. He was not alone as his eyes soon found a woman sitting in a lotus position. Her eyes shut delicately with strong eyelashes standing guard. A deep scar ran from under her left eye towards her ear covered by black hair held in a ponytail, a scar that told a story of the violence and war she had been through in her life. Her lips were thin and free as she exhaled radiating pure serenity in her sports bra and tight yoga pants. Grey wondered how it was that someone would radiate war and power but at the same time a calming sensation of peace.

"So, I guess you are someone Alpha Gerald doesn't like much!" She said, her tone sweet to the ears and equally commanding. He was so fascinated by her entire demeanor he couldn't find a thing to say. Instead he remained silent.

"Quiet type! I get it!" She stood to her feet without a glance at Grey. Stretched all the way backwards till she was on all fours but upside down.

Maintaining the position for a hot minute she came back to her feet with ease as foots steps echoed.

Three guards came, one of them held chains with leather gloved hands while the rest held batons made of pure silver, a wolfs one weakness.

"My ride is here, we will continue our little chat in a bit!" Her hands went through a gap in the bars as the chains were strapped on. She didn't flinch even when her skin sizzled. All she had gone through in her life had gotten her stronger than the pain of mere silver burn.

"Hey Ten, the alpha has some new toys he just can't wait to show you!" A Fourth guard walked in with a smile. Grey caught a scent befitting a beta but with the smug look on his face you would think him the alpha himself.

"Aaron, you are with my entourage today? Lucky me! I guess your father wasn't very happy about the previous ones!" She said, her tone signed by mockery. The bars were yanked open and she was dragged out by her arms.

The brute power in her spirit kept Grey fascinated with a smile as he stared into the stone roof of the cell. For once since his pack he let himself think about Lana. The duo they would have been causing mischief all over. But she wasn't here anymore. She wasn't here to wade through life with him anymore. She wasn't here, his all calming link to love and peace was no longer with him. His smile faded as a single tear ran down his cheek, for the first time he let himself mourn. He let himself mourn his mate..

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