Pack's Runt

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A cold breath escaped my lips.

I stood outside in the dark, my hands wrapped around my shoulders while my head moved left and right, hoping to get anyone's attention. But there was no one. Everyone in the pack house was dead and anyone who was outside the pack house was also dead. All of them were murdered by the werewolves that entered.

How was it possible?

I heaved in a breath and raced away and onto the empty streets of Frostshire. From the corner of my eyes, I caught a glimpse of something moving. My heart skipped a beat and I slowed my steps before hiding behind a small building.

The werewolves were still here and they weren't from our pack.

Someone was invading our land and killing our people just as the storm had promised.

There were no sounds of car driving or people walking. It was a dead town with bodies spread everywhere. Innocent blood washed away with the heavy rain. I lifted my hand over my head and stepped away from the building. Fear fogged my eyes as every step I took was counted and careful.

I forbade myself to make any noise that could get the attention of the attackers. With the rain heavily pouring onto the streets, it became slightly easier to wander around. Everywhere I looked, there was a werewolf glancing, looking for its next prey and the werewolves were larger in size compared to the wolves in our pack.

Where did they come from?

Just two blocks away from the pack house there was a small housing community where my family lived along with several other pack members. I needed to see them. I needed to know if they were fine.

I walked behind the local school while thunder split the night sky. Part of my cheek pressed between my teeth as I paved my way quietly toward my Dad's home. A small flicker of light appeared in front of me and I glanced up. A small, involuntary gasp escaped my lips upon finding fire in some of the houses inside the community.

Oh no.

I rushed on my feet quicker, reaching my Dad's home. The wooden door was torn and the windows beside were broken. I stepped inside without another thought. Droplets of rain escaped into the living room and soaked into the leather couches my Dad had bought just a year ago. Glass creaked beneath my boots as I looked around, searching for my family.

Had they already escaped?

It could be possible.

"Dad?" I whispered for him as my heart cried, expecting the worst. My speed quickened, and I dashed into his bedroom and quickly stepped back upon finding my Dad on the ground with his chest torn. "Dad!" Tears welled in my eyes as I fell onto the floor. My hands went to his chest, below the wounds as I shook him.

He was dead. Long dead.

As much as I hated him, I never wanted him to die a brutal death.

I let go of him and searched the rest of the house for my brother. He had to be somewhere around here.

My fingers quivered from the cold as I took the stairs up to my previous room and to my older brother's room, who had been the reason why I was thrown out by Dad. The door creaked as I opened it. I expected to find my brother but instead, I found nothing. It was empty.

My brother was gone.

No.

I rushed out of the house when I realized my brother was still alive and around here. If he knew I was here, he would kill me with his bare hands and cheer for the rest of his life. He couldn't know I was alive. With everyone dead in the pack house and with Dad dead, he was certainly going to kill me.

He hated me.

Rainwater soaked my hair and my clothes as I began running away from the community. The ones who were left alive had already fled the town. I wasn't sure if the Alpha was alive, but with the surprise attack, I assumed most of the people in the town had died.

I hoped to return to the pack house and stay there for a while, or at least until the morning came. Then, I'd figure something out.

Once I reached the driveway of the pack house, I stopped on my tracks and smelled the air. There was trouble in it. I could smell him—my brother, searching through the house to find me and kill me. My eyes traced across the dark windows and froze when I saw a shadow racing on the ground floor.

Bile rose up in my throat along with panic. I scurried from the driveway, but wherever I went felt unsafe. Anyone could be lurking anywhere. I needed to hide, hide from my brother and the other werewolves that were scouring through the town.

"It's time to fucking leave, Gerald!" I heard a voice from the house before a man stepped outside on the porch.

I stilled and hid behind the large SUV parked in front of the pack house. Panic and bile collected in my throat as I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'm not going to leave until I find that fucking runt. She was supposed to be here, dead, but she isn't." That was the sound of my brother as he stepped out of the house and stood with his friend.

"And if we stay here, we are going to be killed. Let's take our lives and leave this place. The other wolves are still roaming around and they'll kill us," The friend's voice was known. It was Asher, his high-school best friend. "Did you see Todd? He was ripped and in the literal sense."

"No," My brother responded, his voice fuming in anger. "I'm not going anywhere until I find that runt. She's supposed to be dead and I'll have to make sure of that. Search the grounds again and if she isn't here, then we'll leave."

I stumbled back, the cold side mirror of the car pressed against my neck and I quivered before looking around. Gerald and his friend began searching the driveway and the backyard of the house, finding my dead body.

I couldn't run, not with him in such close proximity.

He'd kill me. It wouldn't even take him a minute.

My lips parted slightly while my head shot left and right. Any sound I'd make would grab their attention. A moment passed, I grabbed onto the car door's handle and slowly opened it before hurrying inside. My knees scraped against the leather seats while dirt from my boots left a trail over the mats beneath.

Lowering my head, I hid beneath the dark tinted windows and stayed there with my knees pressed against my chest and my arms around it.

Even in complete silence, I could hear my brother and his friend shuffling around outside.

"There's no one here!" Asher said, not too loud but not too quiet. "We should leave." He repeated again.

My brother was always persistent, "No, she must be here." He raced around, looking behind the bushes and underneath the cars parked outside.

"Everyone's dead inside. She wouldn't have made it anywhere alive. Leave it, Gerald. I understand your father is dead—killed, but finding her isn't going to change that."

"That runt fucking deserves to die. I'm not going anywhere until my hands are soaked in her blood." He responded, anger clear in his voice.

They continued to quarrel. I sank my head lower and closed my eyes tight. There was a benefit of being a runt—I didn't have a scent, at least not until I could shift.

My brother could never find me.

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