CHAPTER 4

*KINCAID*

"FUCKING HELL!" KINCAID snarled. He had suddenly woken up and found himself bound with thick chains. After an hour of struggling hard, he knew it was futile so he resigned himself to his fate.

He knelt back and sat on his heels, his hands were held by the chains and they were hung up. He took in sharp short breaths, the wolfsbane in the air cut through his nose and burnt his lungs, but underneath the scent of wolfsbane, he scented another... it was a pleasant smell that reminded him of Roxanne. He closed his eyes, not wanting to go down that memory lane, but he knew he couldn't help it. Even after all these years, Caer, his wolf was still in immense pain. The brutal loss of one's fated mate was not a trivial matter. 

He is Kincaid Stuart. Future Alpha of the High Moon pack of Scotland. Unlike many other wolves, he had found his mate very early. She was a sweet, soft-spoken girl called Roxanne. She was a healer wolf, who specialized in the traditional use of herbs. 

He wasn't alpha yet. He wasn't even up to 18 at that time, so they couldn't do much about their bond, which they had both accepted. They started to get to know each other and feelings budded.

All of a sudden, Roxanne disappeared. She had told her sister that she was going to look for some special herbs that would increase the immunity of werewolves to wolfsbane. She was supposed to come back in a week, but a week passed. Two weeks passed and still no Roxanne. 

That had caused worry amongst the pack. They knew how fond Kincaid had grown for her so they started asking around. Some of Roxanne's colleagues came forward and said that the herb she was looking for had been seen around some areas near North London, and that is where Roxanne might have gone. 

So Alpha Ezra arranged some men and deployed them to go there. A few days later, they came back... with Roxanne's corpse. She was battered. 

Even Alpha Ezra was shaken at her bodily state. He restricted his son from seeing Roxanne until she was cleaned and covered up so that she looked like she was asleep. Ezra knew how the death of a mate and take a wolf to the brink of madness, and he did not want that for his son. 

On the day before her burial, Kincaid was walking dumbly around the pack. He had a lost look in his eyes and didn't know where he was headed, but he found himself outside the office of Doctor Alan, the pack's head doctor and Roxanne's head superior. 

His voice was shaky as he spoke, "She wasn't just killed, alpha," He said. 

Kincaid peeped over the window and saw his father seated with the doctor. 

"What happened?" Ezra asked. 

"She was raped and then killed," Doctor Alan said. He choked have a sob. 

The alpha took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

Kincaid, who was still crouched outside felt a sharp jab of pain course through his heart. He slumped against the wall and held back his tears. His own mate was raped. He wanted nothing more than to find the fucker that did this and tear the person to pieces.

"What did you find from the autopsy?" Ezra asked. "Was she in pain?"

Doctor Alan sniffled and wiped his face. "She was soft-spoken... but she put up a hell of a fight." He said. "Either she was ganged on, or it was a very strong wolf that attacked her."

"With your tone of voice, I assume that you know who did it," Ezra said. 

Doctor Alan nodded. "We found some scraps of skin underneath her nails. She must have scratched her attacker. From the skin, we extracted some DNA samples which I ran in the database."

Most werewolves in the world, especially those from big packs were registered in a database. It was one similar to that of Interpol or FBI, but it was only accessible by alphas and high-ranking members of each pack. 

Alpha Ezra stood up and pressed forward. "Who. Did. This?"

"A werewolf called Jermaine," Alan said. "Jermaine Foster,"

"Foster," Ezra mulled over the name. "Isn't that the name of the alpha of the North London pack?" 

Alan nodded. "It is, sir. His son committed this atrocious crime."

Ezra took a deep breath and asked. "Are you sure --"

That was all Kincaid needed to hear. He slapped the tears from his face and stormed off. He gathered some loyal warrior friends and they snuck out of the pack, heading for North London. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a long run, but they are werewolves. They covered the whole distance in one, fast run. They got to the borders of North London in the evening and they camped out to regain their strength and planned on how they would attack. 

When everywhere got dark, they launched their assaults. But the assaults were just a distraction. Kincaid was here for only one person. Jermaine Foster. As soon as he finished up the business, they would be gone. The attack would be attributed to a regular rogue attack. Many packs experienced it. It wouldn't be anything special. 

But like Jermaine knew what was coming for him, he hid and masked his scent. The longer it took Kincaid to search, the more organized North London warriors became, and they attacked back led by their beta. 

"Get ready to abort the mission," Kincaid mindlinked his team. They had done enough damage to the pack's buildings and supplies. 

Kincaid was just looking for the right time and means of escape -- he had come, blinded with anger that he had not known how large and strong the North London pack was. It wasn't as large as his father's pack, but it was larger than a group of young wolves blinded with rage. 

He was just about to make a run for it when he sighted a child wandering under the moonlight. In his eyes, it seemed like a ray of moonbeam lit her and highlighted her red hair. His breath caught in his throat at her oblivion and innocence. 

He took a step closer. 

"Caid, what are you doing?" His best friend, Mateo mindlinked him. "Let's go."

"I've got our get-out-here-safe ticket," He mindlinked his team without taking his eyes off the girl. "Form up on me." He snatched the child by her throat, and as he expected, the attack ceased. 

The army of North London stopped in their tracks. Kincaid turned to them, holding the child limply between his jaws. He and his team backtracked slowly until they were out of the borders, and then he nipped the girl's neck softly before dropping her and was about to run off but the leader of the army launched at Kincaid. Mateo and two others blocked him and countered the attack before running off into the night. 

When they got back to Scotland, Kincaid was certain that his father knew what they had done, but Ezra never spoke of it. He understood his son and the pain of feeling a mate raped and killed. 

Over the years, Kincaid's mind drifted back to that night. He knew he might have done something very stupid on that night. That little nip on the girl's neck had been laced with emotions, it could become something more than just a bite. He found it harder to keep himself from wandering too close to North London, but he wanted to see the girl. To be sure that what he had done that night had not become what he feared. 

He feared that he had marked her. 

A few weeks ago, he might have wandered a little too close, and he was apprehended by the pack's patrol. At first, he had wanted to fight them off. His wolf, Caer, had not had such an exercise in a long time, and he was sure taking down the 5 patrol would not even break a sweat, but instead, he allowed himself to be taken prisoner, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of the little girl. 

"She would not be so little now," Caer said in his head and Kincaid nodded. It has been almost 10 years. He sighed.

There was that scent again. It wafted to his nose and eased a bit of the pain he was feeling. A soft murmuring made him stop moving, he focused his attention on what the voice was saying.

"...you have alpha blood running through your veins. You have power. I will always remember that!" The voice said. 

It sounded funny and oddly soothing to Kincaid and he gave a small chuckle. The owner of the voice was coming from his neighboring cell. That was the only time he had heard her, the following day, he listened as she was yanked out of her cell roughly and hoisted away. 

A few hours later, a warden opened his cell and said, "Your father is here for you." 

Kincaid scoffed as the chains were unlocked, and he was directed out into the sunlight for the first time in 2 weeks.