Lycer's POV
"Malum was a healer once, thinks he's a scientist now. Those rogues you've been dealing with? All of them have been genetically modified in one way or another through their blood. I call them the experiments."
All those of position in the pack surround me, all men - typical. Rarely have I crossed packs with women or gender-non-conforming wolves in positions. There's a pack on the west coast that's a feminine community. I've never seen a pack so organized and peaceful, though they did tell me they sometimes get threats from low lifes of other packs. They were always happy to put others in their place when necessary.
"How do you know him?" The question comes from the brooding one, Jacob. Always seems to have a frown on his face, except when it comes to the smaller long haired boy beside him. I know a man in love when I see one and Jacob is more than fallen.
"Met him in a bar once, drunk as shit. Crossed him several times over the years while he was still close to sane."
"At a bar?" Jared, the beta, asks. "How old are you?"
"Old enough," I say with a roll of my eyes.
"And these experiments," Xavier pipes in. "Can whatever he's doing to them be undone?"
"Probably not but I'm not much into the sciences myself. What I do know is none of them live for too long, a few years at most. It's what irks him most." They nod. "Malum has managed to increase their strengths and abilities. They aren't the easiest to take down-" Xavier scoffs. "But," I continue, "it's not impossible."
"We took down a group of them a couple of months ago. Nasty things."
I nod. "Yeah, the experimentation isn't without a price. It marrs them, makes them look. . . Wrong," I say, deciding it's the best word for it. "I'm sure it affects them on the inside too. Hence, why they can't live for too long after."
"Why they don't have scents," Josh trails.
"Most of them." I inhale, trying to keep the rancid scent I knew from some of them out of my mind. "Malum uses the ones who do for his patrol internally. Those who don't can venture out."
"So how do we stop them?" Xavier seems to be agitated this morning, tenser than he usually is. I study him for a second. He glances at the door. Hm.
"Take out Malum and no more will be made. Then we either take them out individually or wait for them to die. Without him, many of them have no direction. I was friends with one of them and he said-"
"Friends?" Jacob looks disbelieving, tapping his fingers on his opposite arm. "How could you be friends with someone holding you hostage?"
I wince, quick to defend, "He didn't do anything." Other than keep me as sane as possible in that hellscape. "He said that some of the experiments can't even speak. That they wander almost aimlessly, taking any orders or direction but not having much preference for anything. No say of their own."
"Can you friend help us now? Get us intel or something?"
"No." I think back to that last day when Ian helped us escape. The sound echoes in my head, making my stomach turn. "No, he can't."
"Where would Malum go? Does he have another hideout?" Xavier traces his hand over the map as if it'll answer his question.
"Not that I know of. And there's too many experiments to hide them somewhere small."
"I say we go back to the mountains. Try to trace them from there," Josh offers.
"Even you wouldn't be able to trace them through the snow." The snow hadn't stopped falling for the past few days. It stuck to the ground in several clumpy inches, melting just enough to make it hard instead of the fun soft snow I remember from my childhood.
"We can't just wait," Jared insists.
"And we won't," Xavier assures him. "We'll send a group of warriors to poke around the markets. A small group, discreet. Ask around about Malum and Christopher. See what we can dig up and go from there." Everyone nods. It seems like the only course of action possible. "Thank you gentlemen, you may leave."
I'm the first out the door.
Alpha Xavier's office is probably my least favorite spot on pack grounds. It's overwhelmingly him. I get the strong sense that he doesn't like me much, even though I can tell he puts on a performance that says he's totally fine with my being here. I think, if he sat down with me for even an hour, he would see our thoughts lie much the same. It's my fault Celestial was taken. . . I blame myself for it every time I see her struggle with her arm. Every day I see her with bags under her eyes because she barely sleeps. I barely sleep too; my head too filled with memories of being there. She says she doesn't remember most of it but I think it comes back to her at night.
I go straight to my room, sitting down at the desk and pulling out the notebook Celestial gave me. It's a small brown leather thing with a belt clasp that I never leave closed but do leave inside a drawer at the desk in this room. Inside lay a neatly folded map of the world with red marks jotted down over several countries. As far as I can remember, these are the sites my father said the originals once were. They won't be there anymore, I know that. They never did stay in one place too long. Not even dear old Dad. His last house is marked here in the US in blue. I spent many days at his place before Mom died. When she passed. . . I'll admit it, I ran. At first to him, but he didn't seem to care. Talked about taking me in but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted her back. He couldn't give me that of course. So I ran from him too.
He traced several letters to me for several years. Fae, vampires, and other creatures would approach me with a blue envelope in hand. At first I read them but they were usually just filled with calls home. No 'Hello son, how are you?' No 'I miss you.' Simply, 'You have a duty. Come back.' In my opinion, I didn't have to do shit. What was I except his living blood inside a new body? Eventually, the letters stopped. I haven't heard from him in a long time.
If I could find one of them, any of them, I could find him again.
I don't even know what I want from him.
A hello.
A welcome home.
An answer for how long this could go on.
Maybe all that time with Malum poisoned me. Maybe I'm just answering to what Malum wanted. The thought brings a sick turn to my stomach. Malum would need to be taken care of first or else he'd follow me. Get what he wants. I refuse that.
A knock on the door brings me from my mind. I fold the map, placing it gently between the pages of notes. Celestial immediately comes in and sits herself on my bed. She wraps her hand around her knees, pulling them to her chest. I raise a brow. "You okay?"
She's quiet for a minute, picking at a string on her sweat pants. "Shia and Zay both agree, there's nerve damage in my arm." My shoulders slump and I make my way to her, sitting beside her.
"Do they think it's permanent?"
She lets out a huff. I watch her in the corner of my eye. Tears brim in hers and she wipes at them before they fall. "They don't know."
We sit in the silence for a while. I lean my head against hers, our sides touching when we inhale.
"What are you thinking?" I ask in the quietest of whispers.
She lets out a huff of laughter. "Kids," she confesses. "Wesley, for starters. I could barely hold him."
"But you can hold him?"
"With help," she says dejectedly.
"Is there anything wrong with help?"
"No, but. . ." I can see her getting frustrated. She rips out the string and it bunches a bit of the fabric around her knee.
"But you don't want it." I know this about her. Celeste is a quick learner because she tires of needing help. She doesn't like it but she'll accept it when needed.
"Yeah."
"So what's the solution? Suck it up?" She lets out a laugh, nudging me in the side.
"No - uh, Zay and Shia said they could try a surgery. Together."
"Have they ever done that before?"
She shakes her head. "No. Zay wants to do more research first. Talk it all through with Shia and figure out each step before they even think of actually doing it."
"Better safe than sorry." She bites her lip, tears continuing to well in her eyes. "Hey." I turn to her. "It'll all work out. Magi are a wise species." My eyes trail to where my notebook sits on the desk.
She continues to wipe at her tears. "So are Zays."
"So trust in them."
"You're right." She nudges me again. "Stop always being right. Goddess, even Xavier is wrong at least once a day."
"I am greater than he will ever be." I huff out my chest, sticking my chin up. She leans over her shoulder and grabs a pillow, whacking me in the face. I succumb to the force, flopping dramatically off the bed. And she laughs. And that's all that matters.