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The wooded area belonging to the Crescent Blood Pack was large, spamming several miles on every side. It offered a good range for finding rogues and, to those properly trained, a good hiding spot.

Leanna was fully aware of the advantages her pack had but, at the moment, she was entirely lost. She was relying on her wolf's senses to lead her and her worry was causing her to forget the basic rule.

Always be on your guard.

She glanced around half-distractedly, her wolf telling her to run east toward the creek she frequented in her leisure time.Setting off in a jog, Leanna focused on her wolf who was nervous and nearly whining, almost sure something was wrong with their mate.

The thought made Leanna nervous but she knew Vincent was strong.

She had no recollection of him from her youth before he left, but the stories teh adults often told the children were that their Alpha was strong and terrifying. He could kill a group of rogues alone and appear as though he was never attacked.

That his thirst to kill rogues was never quenched.

The thought made her slightly nauseous and she shook the thought away, focusing on the target.

Pushing herself, she ran for nearly ten minutes without a break until she heard the faint sound of trickling water and distant voices.

"Vincent," she whispered to herself and forced her legs to move faster, breaking through the trees.

The sight that met her left her silent.

Thirty bodies were scattered across the ground, blood pooling beneath their bodies. The one closest to her was nearly shredded; his chest had slash marks so deep she could see bone and a bite mark to his face. 

She glanced at the others, and noticed her own pack members among the dead. Three she immediately recognized as Weston, her former neighbor who had two children but lost his mate a few years back. He was physically thirty-seven but because of the way werewolves aged, he appeared twenty-six. 

The second one was Riley Ale, a girl about twenty-two. She wasn't close to her at all but Brandon was. They were the best of friends, though unlike Brandon, she hadn't found her mate. 

The third was Garrett, a young boy about thirteen and one of the pack's Omegas. She didn't know anything about him but if he had been treated like Zachary, no one would miss him when word got out.

Among them there were only  four other pack members, and everyone else was a rogue. And they'd all been killed similarly.

Heavy claw marks in them, ripped skin, snapped necks.

She hadn't realized how tightly clenched her stomach was until she was ran off toward a tree, falling to her knees and throwing up the food she'd eaten earlier.

Warm hands pulled back her hair, Vincent's familiar touch and scent calming down her wolf. She shuddered, her eyes watering.

"I-I felt s-something was o-off. It felt wr-wrong," Leanna gasped softly, leaning back against him.

"Shh, love. Just breathe," he murmured gently, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

She closed her eyes, taking in several deep breaths. It was becoming quite clear to her that no wolf would've reacted like this unless they were a child.

Rogues attacked all the time and the usual end result was death.

She knew that.

But this... 

She'd never seen anything like it.

"Let's get you home," Vincent said gently and picked her up in his arms, shielding her view of the bodies.

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