Wolf Bound

Chapter 10: Amaury's Wolf

The dagger I'd been accused of stabbing Amaury with was still bloodied to the point I could hardly see the silver blade anymore. That was the work of someone out for blood. I wondered if that thirst had been quenched. It was a special kind of dagger. One with a gold handle, that had a plethora of beautifully patterned designs showered in black, drawn into it. Its style and length was the same as the average straight eighteen-inch dagger.

"Are you satisfied now?" Vincent lowered the Ziploc bag he'd been keeping the dagger in, back onto his desk. His eyes bored into mine as I chewed on my bottom lip, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes," I said, nodding.

"Good," he said.

I didn't think he'd agree to let me see the dagger. I'd asked him if I could see it for myself because I wanted to see how much blood it was covered in. I wanted to know if Amaury had only been nicked with the blade or if it had done more damage. And I'd surely gotten my answer. I should have known it was more than a small nick. He was bleeding out far too much.

"Did your brother have any enemies?" I asked the first question that came to mind.

Vincent tensed, rolling his neck around. He picked up the Ziploc bag and stashed it back in the top drawer of his desk. "Not that I know of. Amaury was loved and adored among the pack."

"Oh," I mumbled, "not even outside of Calamitous?"

"Out of the packs we're close with? No. I can't think of any shifter who'd want to send my brother to an early grave. He had no enemies. At least, none that were vocal about him." Vincent watched me plop down in the seat across from him.

I folded my legs over each other with my hands stuffed between them. This had been the fourth time I stood then sat down in the same repeated cycle. I couldn't help it. I was frustrated. So frustrated, I wanted to pull my hair out.

"Were any pack members sent to investigate the area where the incident happened?"

"Yes, we searched within a five-mile range of the woods the night we found you"—he leaned forward on the desk, folding his hands together—"then we returned the day after to search the area again. But further."

"And?" I urged.

"Nothing in particular but what we found beside you, was there."

"Great. So, the dagger is the only piece of evidence I have to work with for a lead. . . Are you sure there were no fingerprints on the dagger?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Vincent exhaled.

"Wait, um, how exactly did you find us?"

"Amaury stepped out earlier in the day to take care of some alpha business. However, my brother never returned. My father sent out a search party for him. That was how we found you. With the scent of his blood and the scent of yours. It led us right on your trail. . ." Vincent paused and swallowed a breath. "He was dead on arrival."

"So, there really was no other scent. . ." I sighed, stroking the bottom of my chin.

That meant two things. Either the person's scent, whoever it was that placed the dagger near me, was masked or they had been long gone before Vincent and his pack arrived. I'd heard stories about people using natural materials to cover their scents while hunting, as to not alert animals. According to my father's friends who'd gone deer hunting before, rubbing pine needles, leaves, dirt, and other natural smells over their clothes helped.

It'd have been easy for the culprit to cover their tracks then, especially against wolves who had a strong sense of smell. Obviously, this person knew about animals and their weaknesses then. Maybe they knew a bit about hunting too. Could it have been a run in with a poacher? I'd never seen any poachers around here though. Besides, this seemed personal.