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The Dusk Mistress: Traveler's Respite, #2
The Dusk Mistress: Traveler's Respite, #2
The Dusk Mistress: Traveler's Respite, #2
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The Dusk Mistress: Traveler's Respite, #2

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For centuries the undead fared poorly in their war against the werewolves, outmatched in power, intelligence and killer instinct. An ill wind blowing in the walled town of Niederstadt threatens to tip the scales in favour of the undead as a new Necropolis threatens both werewolves and the sparse human survivors inside the town and even the world outside... The Dusk Mistress continues the story of the cursed Winter family, following on from Traveler's Respite.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherG Johanson
Release dateJul 24, 2022
ISBN9798201340513
The Dusk Mistress: Traveler's Respite, #2

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    The Dusk Mistress - G Johanson

    PROLOGUE

    ––––––––

    Nadja Lakatos had stumbled across the fair by chance, if such a thing existed. She was a believer in fatalism and destiny, when sober. Right now, she believed in having a good time, and as such, she was in sync with the majority of revellers. She’d come alone but would not necessarily leave that way, continually crossing paths and exchanging glances with a particular gentleman over the course of the afternoon. One of his friends had tried his hand at a boxing challenge and had done surprisingly well. A little too well, in Nadja’s opinion, almost as if the boxer wanted to give the impression that he was beatable to encourage others to step up for the prize money. Few would risk their hard-earned money to topple Goliath; better to present the champ as tough (go too far the other way and the ruse became visible to all) yet fallible.

    Nadja’s potential beau remained intact, though seemed to be weighing up his chances, scrutinising his potential opponent – either that or she was completely barking up the wrong tree. Nadja approached him and advised him to save his money before walking off. His confused expression suggested that he didn’t understand what she meant, or perhaps wondered why he was supposed to follow a complete stranger’s advice. If he wanted clarification she would be around, Nadja going nowhere just yet. She had heard that there was a fortune teller around somewhere, Nadja finding a queue for her services. There was always money in chicanery, from the days of the soothsayers to 19th Century Bavaria.

    The stranger approached her while she swayed in the queue, flirting with her as he asked with a smile, finding his bearings, You think I won’t win?

    Ask her in there, not me, Nadja flirted back. Either way, he’d be wasting his money, though he would, presumably, be spared a pummelling from the gypsy. Drunk as he was, his lack of inhibitions had the potential to rile the fortune teller up, particularly if her temperament was anything like that of Nadja’s mother and aunts.

    You said not to bother.

    The odds are stacked is all. Like her, he was inebriated and unsteady on his feet, easy pickings for the unscrupulous. He returned to the boxing tent, Nadja realising that she had made his mind up for him. Even though this was precisely what she had not wanted, there was an upside. Contact had been initiated. What would happen next was the question, and she had a sure-fire way of finding out. She crossed the Great Maria’s palm with silver, watching as the shawled little woman stared intensely into her crystal ball, Nadja sniggering to herself at the stereotype. The Great Maria had a piercing gaze, eyes that seemed to penetrate the soul, eyes that Nadja doubted saw anything. The Great Maria claimed to see something in the ball, a tall, dark man in her future. So far, so generic. The Great Maria did not read her well, proving to be well below par. Even mediocre con artists generally knew how to play their audience.

    In the Great Maria’s defence, Nadja accepted that her casing did not reveal the contents. Nadja looked no different to the rest of the young, financially struggling Bavarian women in attendance today because that was what she was. She styled her hair like them and adopted their dress because she liked the look, though this was taken by some of her people as a rejection of their ideals and of her gift. Nadja had rare talents that she valued (and others considered wasted on her), which she would never cheapen by using them in this manner. Prophecies could be given over a beer; there didn’t need to be this artificial ceremony, this contrived, put-on persona. Choosing this path made her an outsider everywhere, for she always proudly told everyone that she met of her origins, which meant that she encountered considerable prejudice from all directions. She was not gypsy enough for her people and was too gypsy for almost everybody else.

    Nadja decided to give the boxing tent a swerve for now. He could come and find her with his winnings, bruises, or both. The carousel seemed like more fun, Nadja clambering onto a horse which she stroked to the amusement of some, Nadja recalling the bond she had shared with Sheba back in her youth. In her experience, unconditional love and understanding only came from animals. Humans were too complicated

    She was moving, the sudden jolt shifting her from her reverie. She toyed with using her powers to see the result of her would-be beau’s bout. Prophecy rarely allowed such precision, usually only offering up the visions it wanted to, not what the prophet requested. She could estimate the outcome anyway. Likelihood of her mystery man winning the fight – 25%. The confident swagger that drew her to him was that of a man who could handle himself. Likelihood of the two of them having sex before the night was over – 75%. The rogue factor here was the same thing that lessened his boxing chances, the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. Likelihood of her not throwing up within the next hour – 0%. This ride did not help, Nadja not having thought this through before mounting Sheba II. Dismounting now was not an option, unfortunately.

    A little girl sat at her side, far less enamoured with her steed and more amused by Nadja’s struggles, which meant that if she was sick on the ride, she’d have to vomit to the left onto the onlookers. Her queasy expression was clear to all, and the crowd did not seem sympathetic. If she wanted to see a chorus of disapproving faces, she could visit home for that. She found drunkenness in others generally amusing, like her co-rider did, though it seemed they were in the minority. Indifference would have been fine too; why did they have to look so severe? Each rotation they seemed to look worse and worse, slowly morphing into something else. Their skin stripped away, and Nadja realised she was having a symbolic vision – either that or some hideous virus was turning the crowd into living skeletons.

    A few faces remained fully intact as the others decayed, the living greatly outnumbered by the dead. Every spin a few more of these transformed into carrion too, their numbers dwindling. Symbolic visions were usually frustratingly vague; this was the exception, the meaning of this impossible to misread. She’d been forewarned that this was coming and she’d laughed it off. She was not laughing now. A small and slender threat, that had existed for centuries, now threatened to envelop them all. What was the likelihood of humanity being able to avert this disaster?

    PART I

    Outcasts

    ––––––––

    This had been a very bad day. Anna Winter had longed for the day that her father was released from prison, but even that bright spot was unable to remove the cloud. Today was the day that she realised that she was dead, the final victim of a serial killer. The price of the reunion with her father was another separation from her mother. Anna was close to both of them and would have picked her father, Wulff, at a push, but the truth was that she now belonged with her mother, Sommer. They were both dead or undead or whatever the term was for their strange and miserable existence.

    It was bad enough her father seeing her like this, a hideous and decaying shadow of the girl that she had been (and Anna had never considered herself that attractive to begin with). To make matters worse, Luther had also seen her, thankfully from a distance. Theirs was a gentle, chaste romance which now perished along with her mortality. There were other obstacles to their romance. Luther’s uncle was the chief of police, and he disapproved of her and had tremendous influence over his nephew. It also turned out that her father had not been released from prison but had escaped to rescue her when Luther turned up to arrest him for a second time, though these problems were surmountable compared to the fact that she was dead. No boyfriend could be so understanding as to overlook that little detail. A pulse was a reasonable expectation to have of a romantic partner. She had thought that she felt something earlier, but she was no longer sure.

    Somehow, her father had managed to avoid being arrested by Luther and his uncle. The close call had clearly unnerved him as he had made her pack immediately. They were now fugitives which meant that they had to leave their beautiful home. It had taken Anna some time to get used to the inn. The Mouflon had been her first home in the heart of Niederstadt, and she missed the lively tavern for a while before she grew accustomed to their new quarters. Her quiet personality was well suited to a life in the country, the remote inn quickly becoming a treasured home, and now they were leaving forever in the dead of night. This would have been a huge wrench to her even if she were alive; in her current state, it was even harder, when all she wanted to do was hide away from the world.

    Wulff had insisted that Anna pack a bag of her clothes (she was disinterested and did so under duress) as he did the same, Wulff carrying these two bags, the only possessions that they took with them. It was best that they travelled light. They had to make some serious ground to get as far from Niederstadt as possible. Anna came to her own conclusions about what the men had discussed while she was in her room. They had come to arrest her father, and he must have refused to go quietly. For a gentle man, he had a dark side... maybe that was unfair, a temper when provoked conveying her meaning better. Three of the more raucous regulars, Itter, Ziegler and Trautmann, always tried to persuade him to take up boxing, Wulff unbeaten against all comers and all odds in nearly 30 years dealing with belligerent and aggressive drunks. She had heard the stories (never from her father, who downplayed such incidents) of her father felling a group of a dozen men singlehandedly during his early days cleaning up the Mouflon of undesirables. Albrecht and Luther and the two other policemen with them must have gone back to the town to get reinforcements, and that was why they had left without their quarry. If they did manage to arrest him, she would be alone again, and they might realise what she was and deal with her accordingly. They were outcasts now, the escaped (yet wrongfully incarcerated) prisoner and the zombie. It was for the best that they ran into the woods, the pair of them needing to be as far from civilisation as possible.

    They had been on the move for hours when Anna made a suggestion which she knew would be shot down. Her father had packed a case full of clothes but did not have anything on his feet. Their path was no smooth road; this was the wilds, and Anna suggested for him to wrap some cloth around his feet, Anna happy to sacrifice a spare dress of hers to spare him cuts or discomfort.

    Wulff shook his head before she’d even made her point fully. My feet are hardened. Don’t worry about me.

    What did happen to your shoes? Anna asked. He had been wearing a perfectly good pair when the police arrived and then after they left, he suddenly had none. Anna knew first-hand how inflexibly rigid Johan Albrecht was (briefly lodging with him had demonstrated that), so she could not quite fathom how he had come to arrest her father yet settled for taking his shoes instead. It wasn’t as though her father’s shoes were the height of Bavarian fashion. Hedwig had made him keep them in an anteroom by the back door due to their odour, so they were truly of no value to anyone else.

    Wulff tensed up as Anna addressed the difficult subject, his greatest and oldest secret. He had made his mind up to tell her the absolute truth with a mind to re-joining the pack. Thankfully, he saw sense as he realised that taking her to his people was the worst possible move, the most dangerous place in the world to take her with their zero-tolerance approach to the undead, kin or not. However, he still chose to tell her the truth as it was in her best interests and would empower her. Another positive thing about finally being honest with her would be that it would show her that she was no more a monster than he was. In fact, far less of one, for he had made a decision that weighed heavily on him and would result in a substantial loss of life. Niederstadt was lost to the dead, and Wulff had chosen to keep his daughter safe over trying to turn the tide. He had hidden from both Sommer and Anna exactly how much his fight with Sommer’s minions had taken out of him. He would probably win another fight of that magnitude, but if the whole town had fallen, then that was a different story. Not even the mightiest of werewolves could beat a thousand zombies, and he was certainly not the toughest of his kind. This path had some risks, but it was better than remaining where they were, which was too close to the zombie explosion.

    Do you remember when Ruth brought the wolf pelt home? Do you remember how angry I became?

    Yes, Anna said, confused as to what this tale from over two months ago had to do with his missing shoes. Ruth Henne had been a long-term resident at the inn before leaving under a cloud after falling out with Wulff and his late wife, Hedwig, who Anna had witnessed physically assaulting Ruth. Her limited understanding of the situation was that Ruth had become obsessed with her father and had gone as far as creeping into his bedroom during one of his afternoon siestas and paid the price when Hedwig found her and forcibly ejected her.

    Ruth did that to antagonise me. I shouldn’t have got so cross with her. She was a troubled soul. Ruth knew my secret and used it against me. She knew that I would take that personally. Wulff stopped marching, taking hold of Anna by her shoulders as he told her gently, We should stop for a little while. This will shock you even after what you’ve been through. Your old dad... you know I love you, and this changes nothing. I’m still the man that you thought I was. There’s just another side to me...

    As revelations went, Wulff’s was a big one. Fantastical, yet Anna believed every earnest word, trying to make his admission easier for him. He kept maintaining that he hadn’t meant to deceive her, and she kept repeating that he hadn’t. She had felt so sorry for his lonely past, believing him to be a foundling. The truth, that Wulff had been born in the woods to werewolves, was slightly better. At least he had not been alone. The curse that affected their kin, the bloodline leading back to the foul rapist who attacked a young gypsy girl, would have perturbed Anna more were it not for her current state. If she understood him correctly, Wulff not entirely coherent, all of the kin that descended from the rapist were doomed to transform into beasts, herself included, a double beast in her case. What other surprises did this wretched day have to offer? Either they were cursed as her father claimed, or the traumas of the last few months had tipped him completely over the edge, to a level of madness that even Ruth never attained.

    Wulff was impressed with how well Anna took the truth. He had kept his secret from her to try to protect her, the ultimate irony being that had she known earlier what she was capable of she could have easily protected herself from Gerber. Sheltering her had harmed her. Telling her the truth could not fully convince her; he had to show her what they were. Anna remained kneeling on the grass as Wulff walked a short distance further into the forest to disrobe and transform. Even knowing that it was him and that he meant her no harm was not enough to stop Anna from recoiling and falling backwards as he emerged. The only sign that it was him was in the eyes. The rest of him was a beast covered in brownish-grey fur with long gnarled, clawed fingers, triangular pointed ears and a long muzzle with razor-sharp teeth. She had not expected that he could truly transform so when he appeared in his changed form, she was shocked and disgusted. He wasn’t even the same shape.

    It’s me, Wulff said, his voice altered, significantly deeper, yet still recognisable. Don’t worry, you won’t see me like this again.

    Anna was relieved to hear that, and she hugged her father when he returned in his true form. He was able to handle her beastly, unchanging form better than she could handle his altered state. His regular night-time excursions into the forest, his largely carnivorous diet, her own desperate cravings for meat despite yearning with her intellect to be a vegetarian – it all made a twisted sort of sense now.

    Did Hedwig and Mother know? Anna asked Wulff as they began walking again. She was not so perturbed at the thought of seeing other similar creatures, which she imagined she would be doing imminently in an awkward family reunion. It was seeing her father in this state that was particularly disturbing.

    Hedwig never knew. I told Sommer after we were wed. She handled it well...

    Better than me, I’m sure.

    It took time. Sommer had initially taken the tack that he could turn into what he liked as long as he kept his transformations outdoors out of her sight, viewing it as a peccadillo. Many of the wives of the men she served every day at the tavern felt the same way about their drinking and carousing. It was something that they wished they didn’t do, but as long as it was done out of the family home, they could tolerate it. Eventually, she grew more casual about it, allowing him to adopt his other form indoors, with her biggest concern being the amount he moulted on the carpet and the furniture. A bigger concern replaced that when she realised that Anna shared his curse...

    What will they think of me? The human race could no longer accept her now that she had crossed over, and Anna felt she would be equally out of place among werewolves. The family curse appeared to have skipped a generation here for there was no way that she could ever contort into such shapes that saw skin and bone elongate. She was walking death, and even animals would be wary of her.

    I brought you to the pack when you were a newborn. They doted over you. I know I said earlier about meeting them, but that life isn’t for you. He had been naive to even entertain the idea. Even his own loving parents would have ripped her apart for what she was now and him too when he got in their way. Jaeger and his kin would be no more tolerant of her.

    If that’s where you would be happy, we can go there, she said with trepidation.

    Anna was unsure where her father was leading her on this longest night, her father carrying her as she tired and morning approached. She saw the sign for Altwinden and froze; she could not be around people looking like she did. Very few people were around the town at this early hour, Anna hiding her face from the few people they passed, mostly workers. She turned to her father (who was equally wary about being seen on account of being a wanted fugitive), pleading, I can’t stay here.

    We’re not going to, Wulff promised. Altwinden was far too close to Niederstadt, and even though Wulff was sure that the zombie threat of Niederstadt would be short-lived (such uprisings were always brief, burning themselves out or destroyed by nearby werewolves), he could not take any chances when it came to Anna’s safety. Plus, too many people here knew him, from either the Mouflon or his inn. This was just a stopgap, a place from which they could take a carriage further south where nobody knew them. Wulff had completely changed his plans during the night, having originally set out to seek shelter with his family, whereas now he would be getting as far away from them as possible. He had some money on his person, and he would have to earn more, enough to take them to one of the colonies in Africa. He kept this plan from Anna for now – she had enough to contend with knowing what she was and what he was too. She looked at him differently now, but he did not regret opening up to her simply because he had given her a future weapon with which to defend herself. Even if she never used it or never changed at all, it remained in her arsenal, making her less dependent upon him and giving her a chance of surviving once he was gone.

    ––––––––

    Wulff found a coachman willing to take him south to Stooft by midmorning. This depleted his finances, and he would have no choice but to work there until he earned enough money to take them out of the country. In some ways, it was a pity that they had not travelled with Reymer, but if he had chosen this path, then Anna would have found out the truth about Niederstadt. She was upset enough at present and did not need the burden of that knowledge yet, if at all.

    Wulff caught the familiar scents from a distance, and it greatly unnerved him. He stuck his head out of the carriage and shouted at the driver to go faster, fidgeting as he sensed that they were getting closer. Anna noted his discomfort and assumed that the authorities were on their tail. They'd never take either of them alive – it was impossible to imagine any number of men stopping her father when he was in that form, and his determination to keep her safe would drive him to harm anyone who threatened her. He added another misdeed to the list, clambering from the carriage to the front, shortly after which a blurry object passed by Anna's window, which she took to be the driver. Whether he jumped or pushed was open to debate. The new driver made the horses ride much faster than the previous, Anna closing her eyes, mentally drained as she imagined the scene playing out of sight, the werewolf driver terrifying the horses (the sounds they made were unholy) and pushing them on beyond their limits.

    The speed of the horses was already jostling Anna all around the carriage, though she would have jumped anyway as she felt something leap onto the roof of the carriage. Whatever it was, it was large, and she felt quite sure this extra passenger was not the coachman reclaiming his stolen property. Another creature leapt onto the back, making as much noise and impact as the other stowaway, as though they had fallen from the sky. Whatever these things were, her father had been desperate to escape them, so she gathered this was not good.

    Wulff stopped the coach sharply, forced to delay his flight until he had dealt with his nieces. Hadelinde perched on the top, having enjoyed the adrenaline rush of travelling at high speed, while Astrid posed a bigger problem, peering into the carriage and surveying its strange inhabitant. The rest of the pack were right behind them, and Wulff had to think of a way to shake them off quickly before he was overrun. He did not want to hurt them, but Anna’s welfare had to take priority.

    Wulff jumped down from the cab and went to Astrid who continued to hang onto the side. The horses were skittish, Wulff planning to use this to his advantage. All he had to do was get his nieces to come down, and then he could drive the horses away and catch up with them later. I know it’s been a while, but this is not a good time. Tell your father I’ll catch up with him in a day or two. I need to go now.

    He’s already caught up with you so you can explain to him yourself, Hadelinde said.

    You don’t understand. Every minute is precious. You need to come down, both of you, Wulff said urgently. The faster members of the pack would catch up with him in less than a minute, and he could not let them see Anna. Astrid already seemed suspicious, as evidenced by her observation to her sister.

    There’s something inside here. You need to look.

    Hadelinde lowered her head upside down to look through the other window, chuckling to herself as she saw the little undead girl. What was this about? No scent or heartbeat, this creature was undoubtedly one of their most hated enemies yet seemed to be in the protection of one of their closest allies. You have some explaining to do, Uncle Wulff.

    Come down before... Wulff did not finish the threat, spotting Jaeger and Hademar running into view. It was too late to run now, so he had to bargain for his daughter’s life. He pushed past Astrid, earning a growl from her in the process, and opened the door, leaning inside as he said to his bewildered daughter, This is your family and they will accept you. Just stay behind me at first while I talk them round.

    Staying behind her father did not prove that easy when the hunting party surrounded the coach. Hadelinde was quick to tell the others what Wulff was harbouring, which led to Jaeger and Hademar gawping inside to see for themselves. This was how strange Anna was, that she was a freak show to werewolves. Wulff had attempted to block their view and had been pushed over by his brother. Wulff rolled with it and was quickly back on his feet, but the damage was done, his secret uncovered.

    Jaeger recognised Anna, and he said softly to his brother, You have my sympathies. I’ll make this quick.

    No, it’s not as straightforward as that, Wulff said, reaching into the carriage and grabbing Anna by the wrist. Anna did not understand why he was exposing her to them as the carriage offered some shelter. Wulff chose to remove her out of the door by his brother as Hademar lurked at the other side of the carriage. Hademar had the least patience of the wolf pack and the least self-control. It was a sharp contrast to the whimpering young pup Wulff remembered, who had seemed too soft for this life. He had almost adopted him at one stage when Hademar's grief over his parents’ deaths saw him struggle to integrate into his new pack. His old pack had died out through infighting and hunting, Wulff’s parents kindly taking in Hademar and one other member from the decimated pack. That weakness was not present in Hademar anymore now that he had reached his teens and was hormonally imbalanced and impetuous. Jaeger’s decisions would be more measured. Wulff presented Anna to Jaeger in a doomed appeal. Anna, meet your uncle, my brother and leader of this pack, Jaeger.

    Anna looked up at him, Jaeger a huge beast that towered over them, bigger than the form her father had adopted, Jaeger standing at least seven and a half foot tall, possibly even eight-foot at full stretch. A group of a dozen other werewolves (and some actual wolves) of varying sizes and ferocity appeared from out of nowhere, surrounding the coach in a circle. Wulff remained in his human form though he was poised to transform if required. They were growling at his daughter, and he took exception to such a hostile reception, shouting at Jaeger, You said there would always be a home here for me and my daughter, brother. What’s changed?

    She has. She has no scent. You know what that means, brother, Jaeger said darkly. Both used the word brother pointedly, reminding the other of their relationship and the expectations that went with that fraternal bond. Jaeger was annoyed at Wulff’s attempts to tug on his heartstrings, Wulff making out that he had come to him when the reality was that they had been forced to pursue him, Wulff pushing the horses to exhaustion in a bid to escape them. Jaeger had lost Wulff’s scent for a long time, so when he found it again, he wasn’t going to let him get away. Even when Wulff had lived in town and getting away was harder, he still always saw his brother at least once a week. After 10 days had passed without contact, Jaeger had approached the empty inn, which he kept returning to, eventually discovering a mutilated male corpse inside. The injuries made it clear that there had been foul play and with Jaeger unable to trace Wulff, Hedwig or Anna’s scents, it was clear that they were either very far away or dead. He had brought the whole pack with him because he believed that his brother was in trouble, his suspicions proven to be correct.

    Wulff did not want to have this conversation in front of Anna, though Jaeger left him no choice. Things are not that simple. They rot. I have seen it for myself more times than you have out here. Anna is still healing now. She’s one of us...

    She’s one of them. Your closeness blinds you to the truth. If it’s too hard for you to do what needs to be done, then I will do it. She needs to be put out of her misery. Jaeger was close to his only brother and would derive no pleasure from doing this, but it was for the best for all of them, including the creature that had once been Anna Winter.

    You’re wrong about her. Even if you were right, I’ll let no further harm come to her, Wulff said, baring his teeth at Jaeger in an act of aggression. This had less impact in his human form, though the gesture was noted. Human teeth were practically blunt next to their fangs, yet Jaeger found that this action irritated him more than similar gestures from any wolf.

    Eckhart stepped in before the brothers ending up fighting again. Eckhart was one of the older members of the pack, Jaeger and Wulff’s uncle, and he had watched them fight many times as they grew from boisterous pups into strong-willed adults, both determined to become Alphas. There could only be one winner, the older and bigger Jaeger coming out on top, which led to Wulff leaving his place in the pack and joining the human race for the first time. This fight was more serious than their usual scrapes, with Wulff defending his daughter’s ‘life’ with his own. None of them wanted to see Wulff die, especially not Jaeger, which meant that another solution had to be found. Eckhart suggested, You two always get on better alone. Talk in private. No harm will come to Anna, Wulff. You have my word.

    Wulff shook his head. She doesn’t leave my sight, Eckhart. No disrespect intended, but I can make no exceptions. Let us pass and we’ll move on from here. He had been crazy to even contemplate re-joining the pack, who posed a greater threat than the denizens of Niederstadt. Even the omega wolf, Aleida, turned on him, and seemingly not just to go along with the pack. He had been cruel to her in his youth, following the example of his elders, but ever since he embraced his humanity he had been very kind to her, especially compared to the others, yet that meant nothing now. Their hatred, fear and intolerance of the dead superseded any familial loyalty towards him. Every one of them would kill him because of what they thought Anna was, with one possible exception. With Jaeger on side, the rest would fall into line. The challenge was in winning him round.

    That is no solution, Jaeger said.

    It’s better than yours, Wulff snarled. Jaeger’s three daughters formed part of the circle and Wulff tilted his head in their direction as he asked Jaeger, Would you be so ruthless if it were them?

    We’d want him to be, the eldest, Hadelinde, growled. They had the utmost respect for Jaeger as their father and as the pack leader, the undisputed Alpha. Seeing his beta brother lacking that respect rankled greatly with them, especially as he was the one squarely in the wrong. It was common sense that the undead had to be destroyed without mercy before they spread like fungus. This was an old problem and sentimentality (which had no place in their lives period) always led to devastation. No exceptions could be made.

    You have Eckhart’s word and now mine that nothing will happen to her while we talk. Is that not enough? Jaeger said, staring intently at his brother. Humans went back on their word, not werewolves, and Jaeger trusted that Wulff had enough of his old self left in him to recognise this.

    Wulff's problem with this arrangement was that the pack was not comprised of 12 Eckharts. Hadelinde, Elfriede and Astrid would try their hardest

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