Chapter Thirty-eight

**GABRIEL**

For the past few weeks, the air around the pack had felt tense, filled with apprehension and uncertainty, suffocating. All that increased when the first dead body showed up on our doorsteps.
I looked down at the mangled body of Asher. His neck was hanging on by a thread, and several claw marks marked his torso. His drawn claws signified that he had put on a fight,
“What happened?!” I asked as I knelt over his body.
“We don’t know…” his sister replied.
“Where was he?” I asked, confusion clouding my mind as I stared at the dead body.
“We were chasing each other in the woods, and then I heard him scream. He sounded like he was fighting someone, but by the time I got to him, he was like this and there was no one else there,” his sister said, pushing out all her words in one sentence, her eyes filled with tears.
I looked around the pack, almost everyone was gathered, dear and panic on their faces. Mothers held their children protectively, and teenagers looked at the dead body in worry. I stood to my feet and sighed, worry eating away at my chest, I refused to let them see that. They trusted me with their safety, and I swore on my life that I would keep them safe.
Her words tumbled out in a rush, her eyes brimming with tears. Luna had always been close to Asher, and seeing her brother like this, mangled and broken, was tearing her apart.
I stood up, feeling the weight of the entire pack’s gaze on me. Almost everyone was gathered now, their faces etched with fear and panic. I forced myself to remain calm, to show no sign of the fear clawing its way up my spine. They trusted me to keep them safe. I had sworn on my life that I would, and now I had to live up to that promise, no matter what.
“Everyone, get back to your houses!” I ordered, my voice steady, even as worry gnawed at me.
The pack hesitated, murmuring amongst themselves, their fear palpable. I clenched my fists, tamping down the frustration building inside me. Whoever did this to Asher wasn’t finished. I could feel it.
“Now!” I barked, and that seemed to do the trick. Slowly, they began to disperse, retreating to the safety of their homes, though many cast uneasy glances back at the body.
Once the crowd had cleared, I knelt beside Asher again, examining the wounds more closely. The claw marks were vicious, and jagged, like they’d been made by something wild, something far more feral than any wolf I’d ever encountered. But it wasn’t just the savagery of the attack that disturbed me. It was the absence of any other scent. Whoever had done this had covered their tracks completely.
Finn, my beta, approached from behind, his expression grim. “This doesn’t make any sense, Gabriel. There’s no trace of anyone else. No scent, no footprints, nothing.”
I exhaled sharply, rising to my feet. “I know. But someone did this. And I’m going to find out who.”
The second body appeared three days later. A young female wolf, barely sixteen, named Mira. Like Asher, her body was found just outside the pack’s borders, her torso slashed to ribbons, her throat torn open. By the time we got to her, the scene was just as barren as before. No scent. No tracks. Nothing. It was as though the killer had vanished into thin air.
Finn was livid, pacing back and forth in frustration. “This can’t be a coincidence. Two wolves, both slaughtered like animals, and we have no idea who’s doing it?”
I remained silent, staring down at Mira’s broken form, my hands clenched into fists. My gut told me this wasn’t random. There was something deliberate about these attacks, something calculated. But what? And why?
“We’ll find them,” I said through gritted teeth. “Whoever’s doing this, they won’t get away with it.”
The third body was discovered the next morning. Thomas, an older wolf and one of our fiercest fighters, was found dead at the edge of the river, his body torn apart in the same brutal fashion as the others. Three bodies. Three wolves died in a week. My pack was being hunted, and I still had no idea who was responsible.
The tension in the pack was growing unbearable. Fear had taken root, and I could sense the unease creeping into the hearts of even my most trusted warriors. They were looking to me for answers, for protection, but I had none to give.
I retreated to my cabin that night, desperate for a moment of solitude. But there was no peace to be found. Not with the weight of three deaths on my shoulders. And then, as I sat in the darkness, a terrible thought struck me.
My father.
He had always wanted control of the pack. For years, he had tried to undermine me, to chip away at my authority. Could he be behind this? Could he be so desperate for power that he would kill his people? The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. My father was ruthless and manipulative. He would do anything to get what he wanted.
I stood abruptly, anger burning in my chest. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed answers. The night was cool as I made my way to my father’s estate. The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows over the path, but I pushed forward, my heart pounding with rage.
When I arrived, the guards at the gate tensed at the sight of me, but they stepped aside without a word. They knew better than to get in my way.
I stormed into my father’s home, not bothering to knock. He was waiting for me in his study, lounging in a chair with a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up as I entered, his expression unreadable.
“Gabriel,” he said smoothly, as though he had been expecting me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I didn’t waste any time. “Three of my wolves are dead. Slaughtered. And I know you’re behind it.”
My father raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Accusing me of murder now, are we?”
“I’m not accusing you,” I growled, stepping closer. “I’m telling you. I know you’ve been trying to undermine me for years. You want the pack, and you’ll do anything to get it. Even if it means killing your people.”
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the mask of indifference slipped, revealing the cold, calculating man beneath. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Gabriel. But you’re wrong. I don’t need to kill anyone to take what’s mine. The pack will come to me willingly. They always do, in the end.”
Rage flared inside me, and before I could stop myself, I lunged at him, my fist connecting with his jaw. He staggered back, but quickly regained his footing, his eyes blazing with fury.
“You think you can challenge me?” he snarled, his claws extending as he bared his teeth. “You think you can beat me, boy?”
I didn’t hesitate. I shifted in an instant, my body morphing into its wolf form, my claws slicing through the air as I charged at him again. The fight was brutal. My father was a skilled fighter, and for every blow I landed, he struck back twice as hard. But I refused to back down. I couldn’t. Not when my pack’s safety was on the line.
We tore through the room, smashing furniture and shattering glass as we fought, neither of us willing to yield. Blood splattered the walls, the air thick with the scent of rage and violence. But finally, after what felt like hours, I gained the upper hand. With a vicious swipe of my claws, I knocked my father to the ground, pinning him beneath me.
He struggled, his eyes wild with fury, but he couldn’t break free. I had him.
“You’ll never have my pack,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “Not as long as I live.”
My father glared up at me, his chest heaving with anger. “You think you’ve won?” he spat. “You’re nothing, Gabriel. You’ll always be nothing. And one day, I will take what’s mine. And when I do, you’ll be crawling back to me like the pathetic mutt you are.”
I stared down at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to tear him apart, to end this once and for all. But I couldn’t. No matter how much I hated him, he was still my father. With a growl of frustration, I stepped back, allowing him to rise to his feet. He straightened his jacket, wiping the blood from his mouth, and gave me a cold, calculating smile.
“This isn’t over,” he said, his voice dripping with venom.
I didn’t respond. I simply turned and left, my chest tight with anger and frustration. But as I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. This wasn’t over.
The fourth body appeared the next morning.