11: Houston, we have a problem

**Tristan**

After a long day of playing, "Avoid My Mate", I finally clocked out and got ready to leave. Walking was much easier than driving my car, however after a day of running around, I decided that I'd perhaps bring it along tomorrow. As I walked away from the Morningstar Advertising building, my mind began to drift off back to what Lucien had said earlier on. Was that man really the founder of the Vixen Organisation? *Him*? He seemed too completely oblivious and nowhere near serious enough as one had to be to run such a successful and secretive organisation. It was, perhaps, the only impressive thing I found about the man, and as such, I pleaded ignorance to knowing about the Vixens. I didn't need to stroke his majorly inflated ego.

But the thought of him also reminded me that I had a confrontation awaiting me with my father who I'd completely ignored the entire day. And so, after giving it some thought, I decided to go and give him a visit. My first stop, however, would have to be home. I needed to get out of these soiled clothes. I was honestly just about ready to *kill* Lucien. There was no part of me that found him pleasant to be around. My body, however, found him extremely pleasant, and although the man annoyed me beyond comprehension, I found myself *wanting* him more than I've wanted anyone else. Even now, I could imagine the feeling of his skin against mine, immediately sending a throb between my thighs and a wetness forming in my underwear. If only he could keep his mouth shut, then I wouldn't mind having him around.

My home was quaint and comfortable with a small yard, green and lush with lawn and bushes. The walls of it were a pale blue colour and every single window was cloaked in thick, dark green curtains. The front door led straight into the lounge area and from there you could reach my room by entering the passage alongside it and passed the kitchen. Once inside my room, I began shrugging my clothes off before deciding to take a quick shower. Thereafter, I got dressed into a pair of sleek black trousers and a loose pale pink blouse. I paired it with a pair of black wedges and then grabbed my car keys as I exited the house and proceeded to my car. It wasn't anything fancy, just something reliable that I could drive.

My father's pack grounds were an hour and a half or so away from where I had to stay and the drive was nothing if not tiring, but in a way, I found the long, winding monotonous roads quite relaxing and it gave me a little more time to think about everything. Once again, my mind began wondering off to Lucien. He had no business hiding the fact that we'd met before, at his brother's engagement party, and yet he had. On top of that, he had said that he'd tried to save me from getting fired when I tried to defend myself in front of Damon. It made no sense to me. Why did he help me? Most importantly, why did I care?

My father once taught me that although love was not something sacred, mates were. He told me how he never rejected his mate, despite his disappointment in her and, on many occasions, he advised me to do the same. Mates were, as he said, the key to our strength and love was a one-way ticket to weakness. And although this statement stuck with me and rang over and over in my head again, I couldn't quite say I felt stronger now that Lucien was in my life. I did feel... strange though. It was though I was always in a state of wanting something I couldn't really place or define. Something I was still yet to discover.

The pack grounds were nothing if not grand with tall, bricked walls fencing off the entire area and a grand steel gate at the entrance. On guard was my father's trusted Faustus and his fellow warriors, Trent and Ivan. All three were tall, strong and heavily muscled men, each of great, immense strength. They were in charge of making sure that the only wolves entering the pack grounds were solely rogue wolves, since our pack specialized in recruiting the poor, lost souls of rogue wolves who roamed around packless. As a result of this, our pack had become one of the largest in existence, but could not afford the pleasure of bragging, especially since we were made up solely of rogues. And so, we kept our existence as secret as we possibly could... until the time was right, of course. Everything now depended on me succeeding in this final mission of mine. Once we infiltrated the Blood Moon pack, we could finally expose who exactly we were and merge the two packs. Then, if my father kept his word, I'd be the Alpha of the most powerful pack in existence. My very own pack of rogues. The power it all promised was mind-shattering, something I often lay awake fantasising about in utter excitement.

"Beta Tristan! We didn't expect to see you back so soon," Faustus said with a surprised look all over his face. I rolled my eyes at him, internally. Although Faustus was a good warrior, he and I had a long-running feud. He wanted to be Beta and so did I. Unfortunately, I was much stronger than him, and he never lived that down. Clearly, he was hoping my early return was due to my failure.

"I'm just stopping by to see my father. There is something urgent I must discuss with him." I said.

Faustus scoffed in disbelief but questioned me no further. Instead, he began opening the heavy gates, allowing me entrance into the pack grounds. Much like the Blood Moon's pack grounds, our was filled with modern homes and vehicles with some of our rogues working out in the human world, like myself. Unfortunately, our pack needed to be funded with money and so quite a few of us worked to provide for it, sharing much of what we had. I also tried to contribute as much as possible and, like a few of the other pack members who'd grown up here, managed to get myself an education and a degree. But being a Beta of such a large pack and helping my father was a full-time job.

Unlike the Blood Moon pack though, our pack grounds still consisted largely of many bodies of water including two decent sized lakes, streams and a large river which flowed into the ocean just a few miles from here. The place was densely populated with greenery and growth and the sub-tropical climate helped us with growing crops and food. Although there was a large modern influence over the way we lived, we still tried to be as traditional as we could, celebrating every single werewolf festival, praying to the Moon Goddess, participating community gathering for full moon shifts and often we went out as a pack to go hunting in the nearby wood.

Although our lifestyle seemed peaceful and serene, my father and I prided ourselves on our ambition and, we often tried to obtain as much power as we could- often by brute force. We often targeted smaller packs, rampaging through them and destroying them so that what was once a pack of wolves soon turned into a bunch of homeless rogues who had no choice but to join our pack. It was brutal, yes, but it was the only way to grow in power so we could stand superior to the five strongest wolf packs. We needed to have a voice too in the running of the werewolf community, now more than ever as werewolf tradition began to further fade into history.

I arrived at the front of my home which I used to share with my father and his sister Ruth before she and her brother Ryder- Oliver’s father- were tasked with years of journeying to recruit more rogues. It was a large, three-story home, probably one of the largest homes here, painted in a soft silver colour. There was a beautiful, neat patio with a wooden-framed canopy leading into the home. I walked the stairs to the patio and began making my way to the door where I knocked a few times.

"Father." I uttered out.

It didn't take long before the doorhandle twisted, and the door opened, revealing my father, who stared down at me surprised. "Soldier? I didn't expect to see you back so soon. Come inside."

He moved to the side, leaving space enough for me to enter. The first thing that caught my eye was a photograph of the two of us, hanging against one of the walls. My father was never one for sentimentality and so that had been the only photograph he'd put up. It was his favourite.

We made our way to the living room and to my surprise, my eyes caught sight of a familiar pair of hazel ones.

"Oliver?" I uttered.

"Hello there stranger. I didn't expect to see you here," he said, standing up from his seat and walking up towards me. Immediately his arms wrapped around me, and I responded by embracing him as well.

"It's good to see you," I whispered against the fabric of his shirt.

"Likewise, my Tiger."

Oliver had grown up with me and although he spent most of his life as an egotistical pain-in-the ass (much like most of the men in the Michaels family), the two of us had grown to like each other and his behaviour towards me had changed from a deep resentment and disrespect to admiration and respect- mostly because I'd kicked his sorry ass so many times. Oliver was perhaps the only person, aside from my father, toward whom I felt more than just a deep sense of indifference.

We parted from one another and took seats on the soft leather couches. My father soon joined us and then asked, after clearing his throat, "So why are you here, soldier?"

I waited a moment before saying, "Father, we have a problem. It seems Lucien Michaels is my... mate."