Pack Wolves

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Samantha's POV

     The sound of men yelling and feet shuffling stirs me from my sleep. Growling and what can only be described as flesh hitting flesh can be heard right outside my door. I open my one un swollen eye in hopes of any sign of what is going on, but what little vision I have is blurry and unfocused. For a moment, everything goes silent, then I hear keys jingling in the lock to my cell.

     "Holy sh..." a man's voice says before a thump can be heard. I scoot my broken body up so I'm as far from the voice as I can be as I blink rapidly to try to gain more focus. My body protests from the movement and I struggle to move my leg. Two men stand in the doorway like sentries. The only difference would be that the smaller of the two men was hunched over a little and holding his abdomen like he just took a blow. The bigger guy slowly starts to approach me and I am finally able to distinguish their scents. These two are not any of Michael's men.

     In fact, they're not even rogues, these guys are pack wolves. Sitting on my bottom, I tuck my legs up close to me. To them it'll look like I'm making myself as small as possible. Like I'm timid. When he's close enough I use the last of my energy to kick out aiming for his left knee cap. A loud crack can be heard and he goes down hard, swearing. The smaller guy starts to inch towards me. He holds his hands up and out and attempts to show me that he means no harm.

     "Edward, go check the perimeter and make sure we got them all." I peek over the smaller guy to see a third man standing in the doorway. The man named Edward limps past him and my attention goes back to the smaller man still approaching.

     "My name is Marcus Randall and we are from the Red Moon Pack. I am a field medic and I just want to check how bad your wounds are. We won't hurt you... You have my word." His voice is calm and soothing. The scent of cedar fills my lungs as he gets closer.

     His eyes steal my attention and I let out a gasp when I see that he has Heterochromia. His left eye is a soft lavender, and his right eye is an ice blue color. Something about him seems to calm my wolf as he grows near. My body eases and I'm struck with the thought of what his eyes look like when his wolf is present.

     He kneels before me and I slowly let my hands fall to my sides so that he can examine me. Marcus stays very clinical as he only touches what he needs to, and only with the slightest bit of pressure. His ministration gives me the motivation I need to relax as he works. Looking at him, I now realize that he isn't really small. All the men were wearing shorts, but Marcus had a heather gray zip up hoodie on that really didn't cover much as he left it unzipped.. A telltale sign that they had shifted recently.

     The lack of clothing exposed his long legs and gave me a good view of his slender build. It wasn't that he was scrawny. No, he had a well toned body. Every muscle was defined like he spent hours in the pool every day. My eye trailed his abs down to where they hid in the waistband of his shorts. "Hisss," I groaned as he touched the wound on my inner thigh. "Sorry," he mumbles, but his eyes never leave my body and what he is doing.

     His head is tilted down and I find myself staring at his locks. The soft black is slicked back with every strand perfectly in place. It doesn't look greasy or hard from hair products. No, this is the type of hair you get from years of care and treatment with expensive products.It makes me a little jealous and I suddenly feel the need to run my fingers through it, just to mess it up. Not able to fight the urge, I lift my shaky hand to his hair.

     His hands still and a small smile appears on his face. My hand moves back and forth, messing up his perfect style. His eyes look up at me and his grin widens. His low laugh brings dimples forth and I find my cheeks warm a little at the joy in his eyes. My bottom lips burns in the corner as I try to smile back.

     When he's content with what he sees, Marcus takes off his hoodie and wraps it around my naked and filthy body. I snuggle into the warmth as the scent of cedar fills my nostrils. "I'm getting you out of here," Marcus says. My skin prickles at the idea of him holding me. "Do I have your permission to carry you?" His hands hover near by, but don't touch me as he waits silently for my permission.

     My wolf is purring in the back of my mind and I take that as a sign to trust Marcus.....for now. Wanting to be out of this horrible place, I fight the burn of my split lips and give him a small smile and nod my consent. He gently curls his arms under me and picks me up. He carefully adjusts the hoodie so that I am covered as much as possible. Even with his care, my body still wants to rebel to the movement as I let out a whimper.

     "I'm sorry that you're in pain, but we need to get you out of here," Marcus says in a deep timber. Not as deep as Gabriel's I think to myself. Giving him my consent, we make our way out of my prison. I'm blinded as soon as we get outside and my hand comes up to shield my good eye as I try to adjust to the sunlight.

     Bodies are spread out and I count six, but none of them are Michael. My voice is raspy from lack of use when I ask," are these all of the men?" Marcus doesn't bother to slow his steps as he talks. "There are five more over to the side."

     "Can I see them?" I ask. A few men are walking around us, but no one turns our way and I appreciate the lack of stares as we make it over to the side. We stop in front of a pile of bodies. I recognize most, but none are him. "He's not here," I say, fighting back the tears.

     "Who's not here?" Marcus says as he walks us towards an SUV. "Michael..... their leader." I sob out through tears, unable to hold them back. I cuddle in closer to his chest as I just let it all out.

     Nobody says a word as Marcus gently lays me in the back seat. He gets in and puts my head in his lap. The man I kicked limps into the passenger seat and a man I haven't met gets in the driver's seat. The third guy from my cell gets in on the other side and lifts my feet to his lap. I tense up and it takes a moment to realize that all he is doing is gently rubbing my achy feet.

     There should be wariness for the fact that I'm injured and in a car with members of the Red Moon pack, but I'm too tired to say or do anything. Marcus's hand caresses my head and between the two men's ministrations and the movement of the SUV, I am soon lulled to sleep.

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