Cory stepped into the airport terminal; blue linoleum floors, basic metal rows of benches and a few overhead flatscreens depicting flight departures and arrivals. There were few people in the airport terminal, which he couldnow easily understand. Blackwood was barely a halfway station to a more significant location; his framed hazelnut eyes carefully scanned every face. He did not want to be where he currently was. He took a subtle sniff of the air, nothing smelled familiar.
But he kept his suspicion sharp. If he had learned how to disguise his scent – they probably would have discovered a similar method… Although perhaps less dangerous than Cory’s method.
He walked calmly to the exit, casually glancing around as he wheeled his suitcase along. He tugged up his black hoodie, hiding his grown-out scarlet hair that he had tied into a loose ponytail – some strands falling free and framing his face. Cory had tried dyeing his hair multiple times and multiple colours, nothing took. After around two days it was back to its regular red – despite having gone through relentless bleaching. He considered that another property of his paranormal leneage.
Time seemed to have stood still in the town of Blackwood. He was conflicted about that quality. He liked knowing that his planned escape routes had remained the same, he hated the frightened memories he had associated with various buildings around the town four years ago.
It would be quick, he’d say his goodbyes then get on the next flight out of town.
No mess, no fuss.
He climbed into an available taxi and instructed the driver to take him to a café not far from the cemetery grounds. He needed to do recon, he needed to analyse the most effective and quiet way in and out; he also needed some general social ques that would help him blend in further.
It had been three days since Joy passed. The day she did, Cory fainted in the middle of the library – as if something inside of him cracked with her spirit. He saw her peaceful face, her kind brown eyes glisten over and a small smile on her lips as if she was watching him watch her. That very day he got on a plane.
The town wasn’t particularly close to his ex-pack’s lands, but it was still too close for comfort. He watched faces as the cab driver drove down familiar streets and unfamiliar streets. Eventually coming to a stop at a nonchalant, unremarkable café named Kismet. He paid the cab driver and got out, wheeling his suitcase along with him.
Cory chose one of the tables outside lining the front the café. He tucked his loose scarlet strands behind his ears, hiding them under the cover of his black hoodie. His eyes scanned every face that passed him, ordering an Americano he took out his phone.
He looked at a detailed map of Blackwood. He had never been to the cemetery before. He knew that Joy was laid to rest in the Blackwood cemetery because pack custom dictated that only pack members could be buried on their land. So, he knew the pack would choose to just bury her in the nearest cemetery – hoping that they weren’t cruel enough to just bury her in the outskirts of the woods.
He knew Sky and Aiden would never allow that.
But, Grayson was Alpha now. Anything was possible in those monstrous hands.
It was a footstep among a slow stream of other footsteps that caught Cory’s attention. It had intent behind it, it contained purpose.
He slowly lifted his eyes, looking at the unfamiliar black haired male that scanned the sea of faces outside the café. He was clearly looking for something. He took a sharp inhalation, scanning the faces again. He scanned Cory’s and then continued scanning.
Cory picked up his coffee, hiding his mouth and nose behind the mug before taking a sniff of the air himself.
The man had the scent of a werewolf; like freshly snapped twigs and rich soil.
Cory had anticipated that his former pack would be on the lookout for him. Revoking clanship and becoming a rogue wouldn’t ordinarily lead to a manhunt. But, Cory rationalised the frantic search for him through two points. First, the scarlet-haired, twenty one year old had met both the previous Luna and Alpha. He had been inside the pack house, and so he assumes the pack suspects he would have some sort of valuable information. Secondly, his ex-mate was now the current Alpha.
His ex-mate that, last Cory had seen him, held homocide in his blue eyes.
Cory remained calm, knowing the man hadn’t recognised him nor smelled his scent. But, it was too close a call. The man walked into the café, a distant look in his green eyes. He was using the pack link to communicate with the others. Cory had never been able to develop the pack-link, a type of hive mind that connected all the wolves in a pack together in thought. He had discovered a few years ago as to why he couldn’t.
The man emerged from the café and walked right passed Cory and several other people seated at other tables outside. In some ways, the mindless chatter among the other patrons helped divert suspicion from the scarlet-haired male that sat alone in a suspicious black hoodie.
“Not here either?” A calm voice asked.
Cory stiffened ever so slightly as he recognised the familiar voice. Familiar was fatal. The calm, rational voice belonged to Lucian – Grayson’s best friend and second in command of the Lightpaw pack. They were a few feet behind Cory, he couldn’t see their faces and they couldn’t see his.
He nonchalantly took out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the table for the server, he then stood up, got his bag and started walking calmly to the corner of the block away from the two werewolves; getting closer to the cemetery.
He had just reached the corner of the block when a gust of wind mockingly blew passed him, loosening scarlet strands from behind his ear. They escaped from the cover of his hoodie. The infuriatingly unique red hair danced in the brief gust.
“Wait…that was-” Lucian spoke in the distance.
Cory knew the Beta had seen his hair and so, he ran. They would easily catch him in a chase. Cory’s eyes frantically searched his surroundings as he sprinted passed them. He heard the heavy footsteps behind him, they were getting closer. Grumbles and curses were thrown at the werewolves as they shoved passed annoyed and oblivious humans.
Cory took a sharp turn into an alleyway. He was greeted with a solid wall in front of him. The familiar grimy brick wall, a cliché alleyway. He spun around sharply.
Lucian and three other pack members had him cornered. Cory’s brown eyes held panic as they bounced from one pack member to the other. They finally settled on Lucian’s familiar brown ones. Cory’s chest was bouncing while the men who had calmly chased him were, by all appearances, indifferent to the exercise.
“Cory, we’re not going to hurt you. But, you need to come with us”, Lucian spoke calmly.
Cory watched as a human walked passed the alleyway, curious as to what was happening but didn’t bother to observe, “I haven’t taken anything or told anyone anything. You have no right to do this”, Cory countered keeping the panic in his voice.
“We know, but Alpha’s orders are to bring you directly to the pack grounds”, Lucian calmly explained, taking a step forward – narrowing their twelve foot distance.
“Don’t take another step, Lucian”, Cory warned softly.
“We aren’t going to hurt you”, Lucian reassured again, taking another step forward. The human had finally walked passed the entrance to the alley – out of sight. Cory dropped his head.
The farce is over, Cory commented internally.
He lowered his hood, revealing his shoulder long, scarlet hair and looked at the four werewolves in front of him calmly, dropping the mask of panic he had kept up, “I told you not to take another step”, Cory said clinically – coldly. His voice had abandoned the feigned panic like a seasoned actor switching characters.
This made Lucian falter.
The Beta narrowed his eyes, “Grab him.” He ordered the other three wolves.
Cory calmly took off his glasses, closing his eyes as he heard the approaching footsteps. He snapped them open and pointed directly at the ground. All four werewolves fell to the ground on their knees, as if they were about to pray to an obscure deity. Cory liked to think that their prayers would centre around forgiveness – he preferred that because the contortion of their bodies was obvious. It was an unwilling motion of knealing, arms flailing before freezing as knees tried to shift until their necks craned up in surrender.
They stared at Cory with wide eyes, his right eye retained its brown, hazelnut colour whereas his left eye… had shifted to a cold purple.
Lucian’s mouth fell agape in shock as he stared at Cory, unsure of what to even say or ask to make sense of the cold purple in the smaller male’s left eye. Subconsciously his limbs fought against whatever force had made the Beta kneel on the ground. But it felt like there were invisible ropes tied around his arms and legs, keeping him kneeled on the ground – perhaps even cement in his limbs.
“I let you think you were trapping me, when in fact, I was trapping you,” Cory explained in that detached voice he had developed over the years, “I’m just here to bid Joy goodbye and then I will be gone. Tell him that when you wake up.” Cory instructed coldly.
“Wha-” Lucian tried to speak but Cory clicked his fingers and the four werewolves instantly collapsed to the ground – dead asleep. Just as Cory had so many years ago when he first met Joy, when she put him to sleep to talk privately to Aiden and Sky.
Cory wasted no time leaving the alleyway his breath was laboured and he felt light headed. Putting four werewolves, who were obeying Alpha commands, to sleep was no easy task. Especially so if one of those wolves was a Beta. To hide his distinctive scarlet-hair Cory pulled up his hood, and walked slowly towards the cemetery gates.
This doesn’t feel right! His mind warned.
Cory stopped just outside the gates. Cliché in appearance, it had a gothic steel gate attached to sturdy, neat brick walls that bordered the eternal resting place for the deceased. However, it was his instinct which had kept him alive for four long years. He sighed softly and turned sharply to his right walking quickly across the sidewalk for a few blocks. Turning onto several new blocks and bumping into a few strangers to muddle whatever scarce scent they had now collected on him – despite the impossibility of that happening – before entering a train station.
Automatically his eyes landed on the times of departure and arrival. One train left in five minutes. He could make it. He was third in line, he felt himself getting jittery – whether from the coffee or the anxiety it didn’t matter.
“How can I help you?” A kind lady finally asked Cory as he approached the counter.
“Yes, hi. One ticket for the-”
“There you are!” A familiar voice called. He flung a strong, heavy arm around Cory’s slim shoulders to keep up the guise of friends. Cory’s entire being clenched as he stared forward, not lifting his head to meet Grayson’s blue eyes.
“Are you still boarding today?” The lady asked in polite confirmation.
“Yes!” Cory spoke.
“No!” Grayson said at the same time.
Grayson pulled Cory to the side, “Sorry ma’am, he’s got a...conditon, if you understand what I’m saying.” The taller male smiled at the woman charmingly. Cory rolled his eyes as he could practically hear her heart skip a beat from the sociopathic charm.
Grayson steered Cory away by his shoulders toward the exit, Cory eyed everything around him.
“Don’t.” Grayson warned lowly, keeping his eyes on the exit.
But Cory didn’t care, he ducked down to break Grayson’s grip and immediately turned around to run but the white haired male had anticipated this and grabbed Cory’s wrist, “I said ‘don’t’.” Grayson reiterated behind a forced smile he aimed at some strangers who’d stopped to look at the awkward exchange.
Grayson continued dragging Cory toward the exit by his covered wrist.
Cory spotted a police officer near the exit, “Let me go or I’ll make a scene.” The scarlet-haired male threatened.
“I don’t care. Go ahead”, Grayson growled back lowly, calling Cory’s bluff.
Cory narrowed his eyes in anger, “He has a gun!” He shouted. Everyone started screaming and running in fear. Grayson muttered a string of curses and flung Cory over his shoulder; he speedily jogged out of the station and into a waiting black car. He threw Cory in like a ragdoll and got in after him.
Cory scowled and looked out the window; he had been caught and was probably going to be executed for either being male or for being half of what he was or for being both. In these moments of realisation, do people recount the good times or settle on the dread?
“Inducing public panic is a serious crime,” Grayson snarled from the other seat, glaring heatedly at Cory. The scarlet-haired male didn’t care and didn’t look at his ex-mate.
“Add it to the list of whatever crimes you’re planning on charging me with,” Cory muttered while looking out the window at the passing buildings. He shrunk against the window to put as much space between him and the despicable, towering, hateful Grayson Lightpaw.
“You grew your hair out,” Grayson commented now looking out his window as well.
“Surprised you even noticed the colour of my hair before you rejected me,” Cory spoke back coldly.
The pair sat in freezing silence as the car drove along a rural road that would eventually lead into the pack lands.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, I was just going to say goodbye to her… She deserves, at the very least, a goodbye”, Cory commented emotionlessly as his bounced across the landscape.
Grayson looked at Cory briefly before speaking up, “Turn around. Go to the cemetery.” He instructed the driver in that deep Alpha tone that Cory once flinched at. Grayson noticed that the scarlet-haired man didn’t react to his tone. He just kept staring indifferently out the window.
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