Imperial Moon [Complete]

Chapter Sixteen - Cal

"Okay, Tate. I get this looks bad." Kat winced.

Tate growled.

"I'm going to get out of the car, and my friend is going to just drive himself home. Is that alright?" She spoke to him calmly. Lucio huffed.

"Don't you start." Kat shot him a dark look. He nodded.

"I'll see you soon." Kat squeezed his hand.

Tate muttered a death threat.

"Shut up, Tate."

But it was too late. Lucio was out of the car and standing in front of the beta before Kat could even blink.

"Don't make idle threats, boy. You don't want to start a war you can't win. And trust me, you won't win."

Kat jumped out of the passenger side running to put herself between the two men.
Tate shivered, his anger rolling over him.

Kat put her hands on Lucio's chest, "Please. Stop this. I'll see you soon."

"Stop. Touching. Him." Tate gritted his teeth. Kat was surprised at his anger, he was usually much more mellow. 

Lucio looked at Tate, smiling. Then, he swooped down and kissed Kat full on the lips, pulling her into him. Kat pushed her hands against his chest, pushing him away.

There was a cracking of bones as Tate shifted but before he could attack, Lucio was in his car, speeding off into the distance. 

Kat rolled her eyes at Tate, "Come on, angry beta. Lead me to my mate."

Tate nodded his head solemnly, unlike him, leading her into the ImperialMoon territory.

Kat shifted as they ran, her desperation to see Cal giving her a speed she'd never felt before. Tate barked, as he fell behind. Kat laughed at him over her shoulder, pushing forward.

After a few hours running, Kat whined at Tate, needing a break. The wolves settled down and slept for a few hours. They woke and shook the sleep from their fur.

Tate looked at Kat sadly, again. She looked at him in confusion, before keeping pace with him as he raced for the pack house.

They came into a clearing near the eerie village of mate-less wolves. The silence deafened her. Something felt wrong. Kat stopped as she realised the gate was down, metal twisted and mangled on the floor. She looked at Tate. He stared at the gate, then at Kat, and turned towards the house, walking slowly.

Why isn't he worried? Why isn't he picking up the pace?

Kat turned into the wind and stopped again. The scent chilled her to the bone. A scent she had grown accustomed to, a scent she could recognise anywhere. Iron.

Blood.

Kat rushed forward. Tate speeding up to catch up with her.

As she got to the house she was greeted with the most horrific scene. Red soaked grass spread in every direction. Battered human bodies lay cold on the ground. Men, women and - Kat retched - children.

Tate shifted beside her, grabbing a robe for himself from the back of the house. He held one out to Kat.

She shifted, falling to her knees with a sob.

She hugged her knees, crying, naked, in the blood of her pack.

Tate draped the robe over her shoulders. He was silent. There were no words.

She sat there for ten minutes. Lamenting the loss of such vibrant life, before Tate cleared his throat.

She looked up into his tear streaked face.