Chapter 5: The Pack Meeting Pt. 2

Dylan had instructed me to stand idly in the corner of the mess hall during their meeting. I did as I was told, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious and uncomfortable being in the presence of so many werewolves.

“I am sure that you all know the reason why this meeting is called,” Dylan said. He sat in his usual seat at the head of the table with his chin resting on his interlocked fingers. For the first time since I came to serve him, all the seats were taken. I now see why he kept the ridiculously long table in the house.

A werewolf raised a hand, and when he was granted permission to speak, he turned to look at me and growled. I flinched in fear and took a step back, pressing my spine against the wall. 

He pointed an accusing finger at me and said, “Do we not need to get rid of the slave, alpha? Even we have not bothered taking our own slaves here for the sake of confidentiality.”

I raised my chin a little, just enough to meet Dylan’s eyes. He was looking straight at me with the stoic expression that I’ve always had trouble interpreting. Then, after a few moments, he sighed and relaxed against the backrest of his chair, turning his attention to the werewolf who raised the question.

“I don’t remember forbidding you from bringing in your slaves,” he replied. “Besides, if my slave does as much as utter a single word about this meeting, I will get rid of her myself.”

My chin quivered, and I dropped my gaze. I heard a few snickers from the other werewolves at the table as I fidgeted with my fingers. I never imagined that I could feel humiliated and afraid at the same time. Taking a deep breath, I realized I could no longer catch the sweet smell of Dylan’s pheromones on my hands.

“If there are no more complaints, then I suggest we get back to the agendas at hand,” he continued to say after the commotion died down. “I’m glad that despite the short notice, everyone still managed to attend.”

“I’d like to take the floor, alpha,” the blonde Cynthia stated. With the tone she was using, it sounded more of an announcement than a request. Dylan only nodded at her before she stood up and walked towards the head of the table where he sat. “They have bombed yet another one of our clinics last night, as you may have all heard by now.”

I tried my hardest not to listen, but my curiosity got the best of me. It wasn’t hard to act nonchalant as I stared at my feet that had been soiled with calluses and blisters from running around bare.

“We have lost thousands of bottles of Raudona pills worth millions of dollars.”

Raudona pills?

So this pack is the one behind producing them? The fact that their very own alpha had a shortage of Raudona pills confused me. But more than that, the news of one of their clinics being bombed was baffling. It seems like another pack was trying to pick a fight with them.

“Do we have suspects?” a she-wolf with bloodshot eyes and equally red hair raised a hand. “The same explosives were planted in one of our warehouses and three clinics for the past two months. Surely, the investigation has some progress.”

“Oh, the investigation showed results, indeed,” Cynthia responded. A bone-chilling grimace replaced her playful smirk. “A witness stepped forward.”

“That’s good. We finally have a lead so we can—“

“The humans are rebelling.”

My eyes flew open in shock, and my head automatically snapped up in attention. I figured the werewolves would not make such a joke, but it sounded so impossible that I just wanted to confirm it. The look of anger on Cynthia’s face was enough for me to know that it was indeed true.

I received a few looks my way and my intimidation towards them crept back up. I know I shouldn’t dare, but the news of some mere humans being able to stir up some trouble with the werewolves without getting caught gave me a glimmer of hope.

“That’s impossible!” another werewolf interjected as he stood up, banging his palms on the hardwood table. “Humans are uneducated! How can they even—!”

“That’s what I asked detective Travis,” she replied with an icy tone. “He seems to believe that it was an inside job.”

The table was then immediately filled with whispers, and suspicious looks were thrown. A werewolf’s ego makes it impossible for them to fully trust others—even if it was another werewolf in their own pack. I found it fascinating. One would think that being in the same pack would be like treating each other as family, but that wasn’t the case at all.

If I was one of the humans responsible for the bombing, I would be undeniably filled with satisfaction watching the werewolves try to bite each other’s necks just to save their own skin.

My eyes must’ve reflected what I was thinking that the second I made eye contact with Dylan, his golden orbs shone with warning and contempt. I bit down on my lip to suppress a smile.

Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed, interrupting the upheaval in the room. I automatically ran to open it, revealing a middle-aged man in a white lab coat. I didn’t have to look at what color his eyes were to know that he was a werewolf.

“Dr. Boyle,” Dylan greeted him. He stood up from his seat and walked towards the door before reaching out a hand for a shake. “You’re early.”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded, dropping the seemingly heavy leather handbag on the floor near his feet with a loud thud. “I apologize, sir. I wasn’t aware that there would be a pack meeting at this hour.”

“It’s fine,” he then grabbed my wrist and stepped out of the room, pulling me with him. After closing the door behind him, he continued, “My servant is bruised. I’d like to have her treated”

“Oh...” The doctor seemed shocked, which I understood. It was extremely rare for werewolves to have their slaves taken to the doctor, after all. He looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it and nodded obediently in reply instead.

“I’ll be over once the meeting is done,” Dylan said to me. He raised a hand to pat my head, and I felt a surge of strength and comfort flow into me through his touch. Similar to what he did earlier by the main door, he was giving me his pheromones again. I naturally felt more at ease.

From the corner of my eye, the doctor’s mouth fell agape at the unexpected events unfolding before him without warning. He only snapped out of his reverie when the alpha had instructed him to take me to his bedroom.

I led the way, the heels of the leather shoes that matched his bag tapping against the marble floors. The silence was awkward and suffocating as I could almost hear the lingering unanswered questions in the air. I was confused how Dylan could act in such a way in front of a werewolf doctor.

Maybe having a human slave as a partner wasn’t as embarrassing as I thought?

As soon as the statement invaded my mind, I wanted to burst out laughing. There was no way. An alpha and a slave?

“I don’t see any bruises,” the doctor said once we got into the room. He pulled out the chair from the desk and gestured for me to take a seat. “Take off your clothes for an examination.”

I did as I was told, albeit hesitantly, as I felt uncomfortable getting naked when I’m alone with a middle-aged man in a bedroom, before sitting down on the chair. His eyes raked over my body to inspect the bruising hickeys on my torso.

He understood immediately where the marks came from, but didn’t dare to ask questions. He fished out a tube of ointment from his leather handbag, squeezing an ample amount on his finger and then applying them on my skin.

I flinched in pain upon contact. He wasn’t even trying to be gentle at all, as expected. With every stroke, I would instinctively move a bit farther from him, wishing that he would get the message and apply the medicine carefully. I think he did, though, but his ego as a werewolf told him not to.

“Stop moving,” he said in annoyance. He then grabbed my shoulders and forced me to sit up straight. His strong grip was as painful as him repeatedly poking at my bruises.

“Ah!” I couldn’t help but exclaim. His annoyance grew, and he tightened his grasp even more, making me squirm in my seat in an attempt to free myself. “Please stop. I-It hurts!”

“Listen here, you pathetic bitch,” he said coldly, his eyes throwing daggers at me. I trembled in fear. “I, a werewolf, am doing you a great service by treating your bruises. If I were you—”

His sentence was left hanging when the door burst open. Dylan stood by the doorway, panting, as his amber eyes showed nothing but hatred while he stared at the doctor. When he spoke, his tone was calm, but there was something menacing and intimidating about it.

“Dr. Boyle,” he called out. I felt the doctor’s grip loosen as his hand began to tremble. “Did you or did you not see me mix my pheromones with this girl’s scent?”

“I-I saw, alpha…”

The tension in the room was overpowering, and I suddenly felt the urge to run away even when the alpha’s anger wasn’t directed at me. “Master?”

He looked at me, and I swore his gaze softened a little. Then, he took off his suit jacket to place it on my shoulders. I was confused, but grateful at the gesture, nonetheless, wrapping the garment tighter around me. 

Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, “Close your eyes.”

I didn’t hesitate to obey. Not long after, I heard a low growl followed by the sounds of flesh being torn and bones cracking and the doctor’s scream of agony.