Chapter 25: 25: Crossing the Line

MAX

We’re making our way to the edge of the Canyon Ranch Pack’s territory. The night sky above us is a blanket of stars, a sight that’s uniquely Montana.

But there’s an unsettling quiet that’s hard to shake off. I can tell I’m not the only one who feels the tension in the air.

Brock breaks the silence, jogging up to my left. “Max, does the air feel strange to you? Maybe it’s just me, being used to the dry heat of Texas.”

“I feel it too, Brock. It’s too quiet. They can’t possibly know we’re coming. But I don’t even hear the usual sounds of the night, like an owl or a rustling in the underbrush.” I admit, a chill running down my spine.

“Hmm. I’ll fall back. We’ll just stay alert.” Brock decides, retreating to the rear of our group.

The woods grow denser as we venture further. I have our map and I know we’re close to the border.

Any moment now, Seth, our tracker, should be returning. It’s nearing midnight and everyone’s patience is wearing thin.

I wish we could wrap this up quickly and head back to the vans. We’ve been on foot for about four hours.

Navigating without the sun as a guide is a challenge, especially now that we’re deep in the woods and the North star is hidden from view. I raise my hand, signaling everyone to stop.

I strain my ears for any sound, especially for Seth. He’s probably quieter than a mouse, but with the silence around us, I might hear him approach.

I decide we won’t move until he returns from his scouting mission. Hearing nothing, I turn to my men, “Let’s take a break here and wait for Seth. Keep it down, grab a bite, and hydrate. We won’t be stopping again till we reach our destination.”

Everyone finds a spot to rest and I walk over to Brock. “I think we should wait for Seth. If I’m reading the map right, we’re less than an hour away. He should be back any minute now.”

Brock pulls out his map, checking our location. “I agree. How long do you want to wait? A mile isn’t even fifteen minutes at this point, if we stay on the right path and don’t get turned around again.”

We had once ended up walking in circles because of the darkness and unfamiliar terrain. Even with our werewolf vision, we sometimes miss things.

“I told him to go as far as he could until he spotted the patrol, then to come back and report their location. I doubt they are exactly on the borderline.”

I hope I’m right, because we’re too close to be sitting ducks if they are right on the border. “Let’s wait thirty minutes and if he hasn’t come back, we move. He had an hour lead on us and we got lost. He’s a tracker, so I am sure he didn’t get lost.”

We share a laugh, even though it wasn’t funny at the time. I lean against a tree, taking in the scent of pine needles and damp earth.

I try to pick up other scents, but there’s nothing. Maybe the animals sense our presence and have fled.

A few minutes later, I hear an owl hoot in the distance. That’s a good sign.

I was beginning to think there was something strange about these woods. There are stories of witches living here centuries ago, but I’m pretty sure they’re all gone now.

I shake off the thought, chuckling at my own paranoia. Seth has fifteen more minutes, then we move.

I can’t help but feel anxious about Seth’s delay. I can’t let my pack sense my unease, and I certainly don’t want Brock to notice.

Brock comes over and sits next to me. “What are you thinking, Alpha? I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t know your tracker, but aren’t they usually faster than this?”

I sigh, giving Brock a sidelong glance. “Yeah, they are. Let’s start getting everyone ready to go. We need to stay alert, eyes in all directions. I’m thinking we might have to shift once we reach the border. We’ll decide when we get there.”

I’m weighing our options. If we shift, we can move faster, but we’re more agile in human form if a fight breaks out.

We cover another mile and stop to check our maps. I can faintly smell Seth’s scent.

He must have shifted and marked the tree to ensure he knew his way back or so I could pick up his trail. “We’re on the right track. Seth has been here. Once we cross the border, no talking. Use hand signals or mind link only. Remember, Brock can only understand our hand signals. If we need to shift quickly, you’ll have to ditch your clothes. Everyone packed a change of clothes, right?”

I look at each one of them and they all nod in agreement. “Stay alert. I’m not sure what we’ll encounter, but Seth should have been back by now, so let’s hope he just lost track of time.”

Everyone nods and we line up, two by two, maintaining a distance of about ten feet. We move silently through the forest.

I can hear some animals now, which is somewhat comforting. An owl hoots in the distance and a squirrel scurries across our path.

We’re probably half a mile into their territory when one of my warriors mind-links me. I signal everyone to stop. “Do you smell that, Alpha?”

He’s about twenty feet to my right, barely visible in the moonlight filtering through the trees. A sense of dread twists in my gut as I move toward him.

I do smell something. It’s the metallic scent of blood.

I join my warrior and we slowly approach the source of the scent, not uttering a word. As we emerge onto a path winding through the woods, we stop.

The scent is stronger here, and there’s a puddle of what I’m certain is blood just a few feet ahead. I crouch down, swiping a finger through the sticky liquid and bringing it to my nose.

It’s definitely blood and it’s fresh. As I inform everyone of our discovery, we stand still, listening to the forest sounds, trying to pick up any scent other than pine, earth, and now blood.

I want to know if there are other wolves nearby before we proceed, because this is not a good sign. As we stand motionless, I don’t detect any other wolves but us, so I signal to move forward.

As we tread down the path, I hear a sound like a dripping faucet. Drip. Drip. Drip.

I pause, trying to locate the source of the sound. ~“Alpha, there’s something dripping on your pack from above.”~

I come to a halt, slowly pivoting to look up. My eyes land on a sight that ignites a fury within me, a fury directed at the Canyon Ranch Pack.

Suspended above us, bound to a lofty branch, is Seth. He’s hanging headfirst, his throat brutally cut open.

The sound of dripping is his blood. To add a further blow, a silver dagger is lodged in his chest.

“Bring him down,” I command, my voice a low growl. The sight of one of my own treated in such a manner is a bitter pill to swallow.

Seth was a decent guy, a top-notch tracker. His family will be devastated.

Brock, myself, and two other warriors form a protective circle around the tree. The rest of us ascend the tree and gently lower Seth down.

He’s laid on his back and that’s when I notice it. A note is attached to the knife.

I grab it and hold it up to the moonlight. The note says, “We’re coming for you. Get off my land.”

It’s obvious they know we’re here. The uncanny silence of the forest suddenly makes sense.

They’ve been keeping just enough distance to stay out of our sight and smell. We can’t afford to be sitting ducks, we need to move.

I delegate the task of creating a makeshift stretcher for Seth to the six warriors. Meanwhile, Brock and I push further into pack territory.

I’m eager to know how far the patrols reach, but maybe we’ve already discovered that. Perhaps Seth was captured right at the patrol boundary.

Brock signals me to stop and points Northeast. We spot four wolves in the distance, heading our way.

That’s the patrol. Now the question is, do we confront them, seeking retribution for Seth’s death?

Or do we pull back, gather the others, and leave the pack land as quickly as possible? It’s four against two, but I’m an alpha, and Brock is one of the largest betas I’ve ever come across.

No, correct that. He’s one of the largest werewolves I’ve ever seen. We both crouch down, silently discarding our backpacks.

“What’s your take?” Brock asks. “We can take them. I’ll mind-link the others to retreat to the van, and you and I can handle this situation.”

Brock gives me a quick, hard look, then shifts his focus back to the approaching wolves. With a grin that can only be described as bear-like, Brock nods at me.

“Let’s do it.”