As You Command, Alpha

The Rust Belt was a ghost town when I pulled up to the garage that was locked up tight.

I jumped out before the car had even fully stopped, stumbling toward the door of the garage. I hammered my fists against the metal, the sound echoing through the empty street of the industrial area.

"Cane! Open the door! Cane!"

No answer. They were all locked up behind the red door at the back. I looked around desperately, my eyes landing on the fire escape of the adjacent building. It sat three stories high, but a narrow catwalk connected it to a high-set window in the garage’s roof.

I scrambled up the fire escape, my hands slipping on the greasy iron. Every second felt like an hour. I reached the catwalk, the wind whipping my hair across my face, and I crawled toward the window. The glass was covered in decades of grime. I didn't have time to be delicate. I wrapped my hand in the hem of my shirt and punched through.

The glass shattered inward. I squeezed through the narrow frame, dropping ten feet onto a stack of old truck tires. The impact jarred my teeth, but I was in.

I scrambled to my feet, but before I could call out, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the rear bay.

A growl, low and vibrating, ripped through the air.

Cane lunged from the shadows. He didn't see me; he saw an intruder. His hand, already beginning to sharpen into claws, caught me by the throat, pinning me against a brick pillar with a force that knocked the wind from my lungs. His amber eyes were glowing with a feral, terrifying light, his features twisted in a mask of pure, protective rage.

"Cane... It’s me!" I gasped, clawing at his wrist.

He froze. The snarl died in his throat, replaced by a flicker of shock that quickly hardened back into anger. He released me and backed away.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, his chest heaving.

"I told you to stay away. I told you we were done.”

"Cane, listen to me!" I shouted, grabbing his arms.

He tried to shake me off, but I held on with a desperation that surprised even him.

"Caspian and my father... they are coming for you. They aren't coming with guns. They’re using an ultrasonic pulse. It’s set to a frequency only your kind can hear. It will paralyze you, Cane. It will lock your muscles and drop you where you stand.”

Cane paused, his head tilting slightly as he processed my words.

“When?” He asks.

“Tonight. Midnight. But there’s more. They have the others," I said, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“What others?” He asked again.

"The ones Silas captured three years ago. They didn't kill them, Cane. They have them in the Everglades, in pits. They’re extracting their DNA for something. They’re using up the captives, and then they discard them. They’re coming for your pack because they need more blood."

The look of shock on Cane’s face was quickly replaced by anger.

Vane emerged from the shadows behind Cane, his golden eyes wide with a mixture of horror and realization. Jax followed closely, his face pale and tear-streaked.

"They’re killing them?" Vane said, looking at him.

The air in the garage shifted. Cane didn't roar; he became a statue of ice. The realization that his lost brothers and sisters were being desecrated changed something in his soul.

"We leave," Vane said, his voice urgent, his hands already reaching for his gear.

"We can hide Cane; we have to move now!"

Cane didn't move. He looked at the heavy red door, then at the terrified faces of the few dozen pack members who had emerged from the back rooms, who had known nothing but running.

"No," Cane said. The word was heavy.

"What?" Vane snapped.

"Cane, she just told you; they’re going to paralyze us! We can't fight what we can't see!"

"We will not run again," Cane growled, his voice vibrating with a power I had never heard.

He turned to the pack, his eyes burning with the authority of the Silver Moon Kings.

"Listen to me! Everyone, stay in the rear storage bay! It’s reinforced concrete and lead-lined. It might dampen the frequency. Get behind the red door and stay there. Cover your ears with every piece of acoustic foam and heavy cloth we have. Do not come out until I give the signal!"

"Cane, this is suicide!" Vane protested, stepping into his path.

"You’re putting the entire pack in a kill-box! If that pulse works, Silas will just walk in and slit our throats while we're twitching on the floor!"

"I am the Alpha!" Cane shouted, a burst of dominant energy knocking Vane back a step.

"I have made my decision. Protect the pack, Vane. That is your order."

Vane stared at him, his jaw tight, his eyes swimming with a mix of rebellion and ingrained loyalty. Finally, he bowed his head.

"As you command, Alpha."

He began ushering the frightened pack members toward the back, his movements stiff and angry.

Cane walked over to his motorcycle, the heavy, blackened beast that looked more like a weapon than a vehicle. He kicked the starter, and the engine roared to life.

"Cane, where are you going?" I asked.

"You can't leave them here! If you're out there when the pulse hits—"

"I’ll be back Eloise. And those bastards will regret the day they laid hands on my pack!"

"You won't make it back in time!" I cried, grabbing the handlebars.

"I’ll be back before Silas reaches that door," Cane promised.

He looked at me then, and for a fleeting second, the wall of anger crumbled. His hand reached out, his thumb brushing my cheek with a tenderness that broke my heart.

"If I don't... keep them behind that door, Eloise."

"Cane, no!"

But he was already moving. He kicked the bike into gear and twisted the throttle. The rear tire spun, screaming against the concrete, and then he was gone.

I stood in the center of the emptying garage.

I was alone in the main bay.

The silence that followed was the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.

I reached into my waistband and pulled out my father’s .45. I checked the clip. Seven rounds.

"Come on, Cane," I whispered to the empty room.

"I hope you know what you’re doing. It’s almost time."