Into the Wolf's Den
Renee’s POV
I quietly walked out of my room before dawn, careful not to make a sound that might draw attention.
Every step felt deliberate, the silence thickening around me as I moved through the pack house. The hallway was longer than usual, not because of its size, but because I was trying to be as discreet as possible.
Alpha Williams had agreed to let me go, but on one condition: someone has to follow me at a distance. He wanted to make sure I wasn't entirely alone out there, that I'd have backup if things went wrong.
But I couldn't afford jeopardizing this mission. And besides, they need all the help they can get to capture Marcus.
Marcus… The thought of him escaping still gnawed at me. How did he manage to slip away when we locked down the pack house? Could there be an accomplice? Or maybe there was a secret passage we missed?
I pushed those thoughts aside. The others will figure it out themselves. Right now, I need to focus.
I reached the garage and mounted the bike, my fingers gripping the handlebars tightly as I sat there for a moment. The cold earlier morning air brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
The address sent by the kidnapper was probably in some abandoned building or warehouse. He'd want a place no one would stumble across–a place where he'd have the upper hand.
I searched the location on the map and sure enough, I was right!
Before starting the ignition, I checked my tracker to make sure I have it, just as I promised Alpha Williams. That way, they will follow me to the den of the rogues so we could clear them once and for all.
The plan was simple. If I'm to be blindfolded and taken away, the tracker will notify Alpha Williams so they can follow up.
I took a deep breath and then twisted the key, the engine coming to life with a low growl. The sound echoed in the garage, breaking the tense silence of the morning.
As I pulled out onto the road, I kept my eyes on the horizon, the path ahead feeling both familiar and foreign. I stayed focused, trying to keep my mind sharp as I navigated through the winding road.
The forest and trees began to fade behind me, and the cityscape came into view. The journey felt like it stretched on forever, each mile I covered drawing closer to whatever lies between me and the kidnapper.
My heart pounded steadily, a rhythm that matched the hum of the bike beneath me. Despite the tension, I was focused. This was it.
After what seemed like hours, I finally reached the outskirts of the town on the address. The abandoned buildings came into view, their windows shattered, graffiti crawled across the crumbling walls.
This was the place. I slowed the bike to a stop, scanning my surroundings. The air here was heavy with an eerie stillness, like even the wind had decided it didn't want to linger too long.
I parked the bike behind a stack of old metal crates, making sure it was out of sight. I hesitated a bit but waved it off when I felt the tracker in my pocket. With a deep breath, I stepped off the bike and began walking towards the buildings, checking the descriptions to see the one that matched the address.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me and covered my head with the hoodie as I stepped through the door. Inside was dark, the air was thick with dust and the floor creaked under my weight. My senses were on high alert, every sound amplified in the stillness.
“Cleopatra,” a voice echoed through the darkness. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to adjust my vision to the dark room. I couldn't see who it was, but I could feel his presence. He was close.
“Come on in,” he called again, his tone mocking. “I've been waiting for you.”
I steadied myself, pushing down the dread that threatened to rise. This was it. The moment I destroy this rogue for good.
My hand brushed against the knife hidden in my boot as my senses picked up a noise from behind. But before I could lunge it, a hand pinned me to the wall.
“Wrong move chica,” he growled mockingly and paused when he sniffed my neck. “You're not Cleopatra!”
I used the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and blended into the shadows. I could make out his features clearly. I watched him crouch down, listening intently for me to move or make a sound.
I jumped at him within a heartbeat, slashing him with my knife and quietly slipping back into the shadows. I could hear my own breath as I crouched in the shadows, my knife still warm with his blood.
His chuckle echoed through the room, dark and twisted, like he found some sick amusement in the situation. “Feisty,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “Who are you anyway?”
I stayed silent, blending deeper into the shadows. He wasn't an ordinary werewolf. There was something more to him–something that made him dangerous. The way he sniffed my neck earlier, instantly recognizing that I wasn't Cleopatra, told me he was more than just a brute.
Either that or he knows Cleopatra personally. Could that be possible?
“Come on little wolf,” he called, his voice carrying a taunting edge. “You don't really think you can hide forever, do you? Didn't you come for Alex?”
I didn't respond. I needed him to get closer, just a little bit more…
But before I could make my move, something shifted behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I realized that there was someone else in the room. I turned too late.
Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me back. My body collided with the cold, damp wall, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Before I could fight back, a cloth was pressed against my mouth, muffling any sound I might have made.
I thrashed, kicking and struggling, but the hand holding the cloth was stronger and a sickly sweet scent filled my nostrils. Chloroform.
The door burst open, and more of their men flooded in. All this for Cleopatra? I tried to blink the sun out of my eyes, but it was too bright, too harsh.
Well, this was part of the plan. My limbs were growing heavy, the strength draining from my body. In a last move, I slipped my fingers into my pocket and pressed the tracker, signaling Alpha Williams. We've got you now, bastard.
But then I heard it…a sharp, crunching sound. I forced my eyes open, barely holding onto consciousness.
Through my blurred vision, I saw him, the kidnapper with the tattoo. His grin was wide, twisted, like he knew something I didn't. And in his hand… was the tracker.
My tracker.
With a slow deliberate motion, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it under his heel.
No.
His laugh was the last thing I heard, dark and menacing, as my world faded to black.
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