The Unfortunates | COMPLETED

Part 44

With Freya and Sam safely in a bunker, Avery quickly flew through interviewing some of the other volunteers.

She only spoke to the ones whom the guards found useful, which was three out of eighty.

It would seem that anybody who had heard anything ever about York was coming in to suggest that it could be the reason for the attack on him.

She was straight up not having a good day.

She had spent two hours with Freya, comforting her and sitting in silence with her. She had sent a counsellor to them, and a teacher for Sam to distract him while his mother got some help for a while.

Her heart clenched at the thought of how many other women the pack could be failing, and she had made an order for three nurses to go through every file and pull out any rape or suspected abuse files.

She would look at them later, maybe with the help of Kathleen or her mother, and allocate funding to help for a crises centre. Which should have been done long before this, and she could have sworn she had ordered it before.

"What's it like being in control of everyone?" Kathleen asked as they walked to the next interview, and Avery rolled her eyes.

"Shit, just like it was six years ago," she chuckles, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"While I'm in this one, I want you to track down a list of possibilities as to who could be Freya's mate. There are penalties for not filing the paperwork, and although it's nothing compared to what he did to her, I want him to pay as much as I can make him," Avery grits out, and Kathleen nods.

"Perfect. I'll do that, and then I can sort out the files the nurses are sending over. We can sort them by age and gender and sexual orientation," Kathleen nods, more speaking to herself towards the end.

"That sounds perfect, Kath," Avery smiles, squeezing her best friend's hand before she goes into the final interview room, where a man is pacing up and down.

She's instantly hit by the stench of rogue, and Avery gags, pulling back towards the door at the unexpected reek.

"You're not one of my pack members," she states the obvious, and the man rolls his eyes.

"No shit," the man mutters, scowling a little.

"Why are you here, rogue?" Avery asks, straightening up a little, and making eye contact with the pale guard in the room.

"You lot wanted information, and I have it, don't be dense," he smirks, continuing his pacing.

"Would you like to sit down, Mr..." Avery trails off, and the rogue looks vaguely insulted.

"Just call me Byron," he sighs, flinging himself into one of the metal chairs, and almost sliding off it.

"Okay, Byron, what do you have to tell us?" Avery asks confidently, sitting down opposite him as her senses adjust to his scent.

Yours might; because mine haven't, Sonya grimaces, I really hate you for the situations you put us in.

Avery ignores her wolf entirely, staring intently at the rogue instead.

"Promise I'll be released unharmed?" He asks, "And nobody can know I gave you this information."

Avery rolls her eyes, but nods her consent, merely responding with "deal."

"I have heard rumours about a coven reforming," he shrugs, sitting back in his seat.

"Rumours don't help me, Byron. I need names or a location," she shrugs in reply, continuing to stare at him.