THERON (Book I In The Ancients Series) [SAMPLE]

FIVE.

Long after Lucan had left and Lina had fallen asleep, Theron knew it was time. Shifting to his human form once he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he scanned the area for the phone. He should have already known of its location as he paid attention to details more than most, however the one time he had been in this room, he was too focused on Lina to notice anything else.

A burner cell would be better, safer, but beggars couldn't be choosers and apparently, Lucan lived too simply to own such a device. Theron briefly wondered why Lucan had chosen the life of a rogue but swiftly pushed the thought away. It was not his concern and frankly, he didn't really care enough to ask.

His eyes landed on a pair of sweatpants, folded on the table next to the phone. Running his fingers over the soft cotton material, he couldn't help but chuckle. It had been quite some time since he had needed material to cover his human form. He preferred his wolf over the other two, and spent the majority of his years in America as such, going unnoticed among the humans here.

His only mistake had been falling asleep after a three-day insomnia bender. He had grown sick of the nightmares and chose to avoid them by not closing his eyes for as long as possible. That decision had cost him dearly. Exhausted and too deep in sleep for his advanced senses to alert him to danger, he had been captured and brought to that horrific facility.

Their mistake had been forgetting one dose of sedation medication.

Only one.

It was a fatal error on their part.

Theron quickly stepped into the sweats and tied them loosely around his waist. He didn't plan to be in them for very long. He dialed the only number he knew by memory alone and waited patiently for the other side to answer his call.

Three and a half rings later, a gruff voice chimed in from the opposite line, "DeLoren."

"It's me," Theron replied, speaking low so as not to wake the other two occupants of his temporary sanctuary.

"T?" DeLoren asked, doubtful. He was used to his brother's need for seclusion but Theron tended to check in with at least one of them once a month. When eight months had passed with no word, DeLoren and the others began to worry. They hadn't felt a break in their bonds so they knew he was still alive but it was unlike him to go so long without contact. His surprise gave way to annoyance and now he wanted answers, "Where the actual fuck have you been, man?"

"Not over the phone," Theron whispered, "Look, I need you to meet me at the foothills of the Smokies. Come from the north only. Do you understand? Avoid all other sides, it's vital. Stay in wolf form—"

"What's going on, T?"

"I don't know... just... just two days, okay? I'll find you."

DeLoren sighed, he knew he would not get any answers that Theron wasn't willing to give at the moment. It was something he had learned about him very early on in their time as warriors. So reluctantly, he agreed to Theron's terms, "Okay, two days then."

Theron didn't even say goodbye. He put the phone back on the receiver and turned around, hands on the waistband of the sweats Lucan had loaned him. He was ready to shift and return to Lina. How he didn't scent her before he turned around he'd never know but there, standing in the doorway was that tiny blonde, staring at him with her wide, brown eyes.

Theron froze.

His breath caught inside his lungs as his mind went blank when called upon for action. He had been busted and he was now scrambling for an excuse. How would he explain this? Lina would not take kindly to a stranger in her den. Unfortunately, he ended up resembling more of a deer caught in the headlights. He was blank. He had nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada.