CHAPTER 10

~ Darius ~

I returned to my packhouse not expecting to have a clouded head. The visit to the holy cave of the First Alphas was supposed to give me peace; supposed to drive my thoughts away from that woman. Now, questions piled up inside my head like bricks in a tower, and it was all because of her and the symbol on her back.

Remembering my father's writings, I went to his locked study room on the second-floor of the packhouse. I never went here after he died. I didn't want to be reminded of him and his pitiful state, and remember how he killed himself.

The symbol warranted my attention, though, so I had no choice but to endure this moment once more.

With my claws, I broke the padded lock. I pushed the door open and the stale smell of dust, old books and molded carpet hit my nose immediately. I grimaced, disliking the smell, but advanced inside anyway, turned the lights on and neared his desk. It was free of office materials now, but there used to be books, papers and pen scattered on top every time I visit while he worked.

This was where my brother and I saw him without life; sitting, just sitting, with his head lying in a pool of blood that leak from his mouth.

Poison.

The culprit was poison and all evidence led us to believe he ingested it himself out of sheer grief.

Suicide. It was one topic about my family I didn't want to talk about.

The First Alphas were hard to kill in a fight. Normal blades or claws from common werewolves couldn't penetrate their fur. But once in their human form, there was always that quality of vulnerability.

And my father used this to his advantage. The grief of losing my mother must have really hit him hard. She was his true mate; the love of his life.

I moved to the many shelves behind his desk; pulled out those that I believed were his journals and record books and leaned against the desk as I started flipping pages. I opened a thick journal first, bound with leather and written in his own handwriting.

I found nothing inside other than reports of how he created the Silver Moon Pack and how he established its rules and regulations—something that I replaced when I became the alpha. After placing this journal down, I opened another one, and like the first, the contents were useless—at least based on what I was looking for. This second journal was all about his life with my mother: how they met, how he realized she was the one even before they had sex, and so on...

I didn't continue further. It felt awkward reading about my parents and their love life. And I couldn't stomach reading about them being mated, too.

For me, having a mate was the start of my father's downfall. Having a mate incapacitated him. I didn't want that to happen to me.

Determined to find the answers about the symbol, or maybe find that exact journal I saw in the past with the drawing, I continued to search through his shelf. Hours went by, but I still hadn't found the one journal I was looking for, or even an account about the First Alphas and the symbol.

His desk became full of stacked books. I was feeling dizzy just looking at it.

"Alpha, can I offer you some refreshments?" Phillip appeared on the front door with a tray of steaming hot mug and a plate of toast. The smell of coffee wafted through my nose, and because of this, my stomach immediately grumbled.

"Leave it on the table," I said, gesturing to the said furniture nearby.

He entered, placed the tray there and strode to a corner window, where he then dragged the curtains back. Sunlight hit the room immediately. I winced at the brightness, but soon realized just why he had to do this.

It was already morning. He just reminded me that I spent the entire night digging through books and books and more books all for nothing.

Out of anger, my claws appeared and splintered the flawless surface of the desk.

"Fuck," I groaned and left my seat. "What a waste of time."

"Alpha, if you permit me, I bring news about the rogue pack killings." Phillip lowered his head again as he stood in front of the window.

I grabbed the coffee he prepared and drank a good portion of it before I answered, "Go on."

"There was another attack last night by the rogue wolves," he started, his eyes past the glasses were full of gravity. "It happened in the Black Moon Pack capital this time, alpha."

"How many deaths?" I placed the mug on the tray and cast him a glance.

"Four, alpha," he replied. "Two of them are reported to be mates, while the other two were women who came from the Waybear Tavern the other night."

A tug on the corner of my eye appeared. "What?" I hissed. Those women who were trembling in fear at the sight of me? They are now dead? Fuck. This isn't coincidence anymore.

"We have reason to believe these rogues are trying to frame our pack again with the murder, alpha," Phillip declared for me.

"Ruin the name of the Silver Moon Pack even further," I added, while curling my hands into fists. Enemy. It is clear now I have an enemy.

"I took the liberty of putting spies on each packhouses in the north, west, east, and central territories, alpha. I hope to get intel from them soon."

"Good." I gave the desk a last glance and added. "In the meantime, strengthen our defences. It is clear now we have an enemy, Phillip. Expect they will make a move soon."

"Yes, alpha," he answered. "In another news, the West Ga—"

"Silence." Quickly, I raised my hand up to stop him. My eyes focused on a certain object in between the shelves. It was a bust of a wolf placed on top of a slim table. I remembered my father gave a similar one to me when I first shifted, and that thing was just sitting in a corner of my bedroom now.

"Fuck," I muttered as something inside me clicked.

Without delay, I ran out of my father's study, passed the hallway, and climbed up the grand stairs to the third floor, where my chamber was located.

I swung the door open as soon as I reached it and sprinted to where the bust was displayed. Made in platinum, the carving of the eyes, fangs and fur popped up like it was a real wolf. I treasured this ever since, but when my father died, I didn't give it much attention.

That is, until now, however.

The thing stared at me like it was begging to be broken. With my claws, I obliged, making a hole directly in its eyes. I found that the inside was hollow, but it wasn't empty. My fingers felt something when I stretched my hand. It was solid.

"Father, why didn't you tell me?" I muttered to myself as I pulled the object out. It was a book, exactly just as I thought.

The pages weren't as thick as the ones on his study, and when I flipped, it didn't have that much handwriting. The volume of the content wasn't what I was after though. I only needed information about the symbol, no matter how limited it would be.

As expected, I saw the drawing of the symbol again. It was just as I remembered it to be. However, this time, it had a note below, written by my father.

'To my beloved boy, Darius. Protect the one who bears the symbol. Protect the 'Onisha.' 

And that was it. I said I was okay if the information was limited, but I didn't mean this. 

It only gave me more questions than answers.

What is the 'onisha?' What does that mean? Why would I fucking protect the one who bears the symbol—meaning her. Why would I protect her? A woman?

With my forehead creasing harder, I scanned the pages, but I saw no further entry about it.

"Damn it," I cursed, throwing the book across the room.

This symbol has haunted my dreams since I saw it. I badly needed answers. But how can I get that if my father only gave me a vague instruction? Fucking hell. What a great father he was.

'Protect the one who bears the symbol,' he said.

I clenched my hands and took a sharp breath. "Okay, I'll do that."

But knowing about my rules in the Silver Moon Pack, I wouldn't protect her like what my father said. I would charge her with a criminal case and imprison her. 

'Phillip,' I mind-linked my beta and instantly he replied.

'Yes, alpha?'

'What's the status of the dungeon?' I asked, pertaining to the packhouse extension where my father used to dump the rule breakers in our pack.

'Excellent, alpha,' he answered. 'There is enough space to fit a thousand people.'

'Good.' I cracked a grin. 'Prepare a team of twenty men. It is time for me to pick up my prisoner at the Black Moon Pack.'