The Wandering Pack Part 1

I’m trying to write a short story for the antagonist of a new novel, and I’m posting it for the fun of it. This short story, which is not done yet, is simply me spending time with the new characters.

(Warning: This Chapter is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.)

 

“Do we have to do this?”

“Yes, it’s a matter of respect.”

“Yeah, but Thomas always hits on me,” Grace “Peanut” Salem said with a deep frown walking down the steps into a Hong Kong basement beside her husband, Trent. The man who took her away from a s****y life and give one she couldn’t dream of, but there were rules to this new life. Rules she wasn’t always prepared to agree with, she wanted to fight against them, but Trent knew these rules were a matter of life and death in this new world. “I hate it,” she mumbled like a child being forced to take a nasty spoon full of cough medicine.

He dropped his arm around his short, thin wife with the indigo-black hair and the green highlight dashing in front of her face, trying to comforter her. She leaned into his chest still frowning at the descended into the basement. Trent leaned in kissing her on the forehead forcing her to glance up at him with those lovely golden eyes; ones you might find a wolf wearing.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t hit on you this time,” Trent said.

“I’m not sleeping with him,” She told in a very matter-of-fact way.

“Nor would I let you,” Trent smiled back at her.

“Maybe, he’ll hit on you this time,” Grace giggled.

Trent rolled his eyes knowing it wasn’t too far from the truth. Thomas like many others didn’t mind who they slept with, it was a way to show dominance. He had never tried to dominate Trent, but there was always the chance he would try. Trent was if there was anyone Thomas would want in his bed then it would be Grace. Grace, his lovely wife, would never step into that man’s bed. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

“But rules are rules,” she remarked.

“Yes, they are,” Trent agreed, “but he would have to challenge me for you.”

“That would be nice to see,” Grace said with a childish grin, but Trent didn’t too much enjoy the idea of having to fight Thomas Grendel for the right of his wife. He had no doubted he could take the hound dog which Thomas; he cared more about f*****g than about fighting while Trent, well, Trent’s Alpha made sure he was a warrior at heart. He could kill Thomas in single combat that wasn’t the problem. The problem would be he would have to take on the pack under him, and Trent cared nothing for adding new members to his pack. He had enough to deal with from the six others under his watch and care. They were a handful as it was and adding any more would drive Trent crazy.

Grace helped; she did her duty when it came to the others. She always backed Trent up, even if she thought he was wrong, he would only find out when they were alone about the way she truly felt. She did her best to keep the others in line playing mother to most of them, but she had her own needs when it came down to it; needs Trent didn’t always mind taking care of, she did take care of himself first, but they were still there. They still weighed down on him like all the other stress of taking care of the pack.

He couldn’t dare add more to his numbers.

He wouldn’t dare let Thomas take Grace if he asked for it. It was his right; they were staying in his territory after all. It was also the right of Trent to fight for his wife, a right, he would not let pass. She would never forgive him if he did. He would never forgive himself either.

“As much as you would enjoy it,” Trent said stepping off the last step to the basement door and turning to face his lovely wife. She smiled down at him staying up on the stairs to be face to face with him. She gazes into those pale blue eyes of the love of her life running a hand along his black hair admiring the beauty of this man. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I guess,” she mocked pulling him in for a kiss. He grabbed the back of her head, the arm with a bright childish bracelet he always wore dancing his eyes for a moment. A bracelet his seven-year-old brother gave him before his death. It was the only thing tying him back to a past few knew and one he tried not to think about. He once tried to toss the bracelet away, stood over the edge of a ship looking down in the night sea letting it dangle in the air.

He had no idea how long he was standing there looking at the bracelet, but it was long enough for Grace to come looking for him. He didn’t even notice her hand slowly taking his until she spoke softly into his ear. “Don’t do it,” she said.

“I told the others to let go of their past,” Trent said, “and here I am holding on to mine.”

“Your brother gave you that bracelet,” she said. “They understand why.”

“It is not fair for me to hold on to it,” Trent said grimly.

“You need to hold on to it,” Grace said, “so you know the cost of this life when we forget it. It grounds you, and we need that now more than ever.”

Trent huffed knowing she was right, but the truth of the matter was he was looking for any reason to keep the bracelet. He could never let go of his brother no matter how much he had tried too. The death of his little brother hung with him every second of every day.

He took the bracelet back from the edge putting around his wrist again. He couldn’t be questioning anything once the ship landed in China. The pack would need him to be strong after everything that happened in Wyoming. That was a f*****g mess. A mess that was all his fault when it came down to it. He was the Alpha, the buck stopped with him, no matter the cause, but still, Wyoming had taken its toll on him and most of all his pack.

He hoped being on the other side of the world would ease their wounds, but first, he had to make sure they were safe in the area. He rapped on the door to the den waiting for someone to open it. The eye hole slid open with iron against iron, too much like a bad gangster movie, and eyes dull red from smoke stared out at him.

“What do you want?” The voice growled.

“We are here to see Thomas Grendel,” Trent said.

“Who is calling?” the red eyes asked.

“Trent and Grace Salem,” Trent snarled. The eyes stepped away shutting the hole only for a second later for the door to be open to a smoke-filled room.

Author's Note

I’ll try to make this short for the both of us, but I feel, I need to add a little context to my stories on here. All the stories I post on this website are what I call “break stories.” They are either stories I go to when I get stuck in long from novel or stories, I write to explore a world. So, what does this mean? It means I enjoy these stories, but I don’t put everything into them. So, why am I posting them? A fair question and the reason I’m posting my stories on this website is to have fun, to show you my growth but most of all to give you a little taste of the worlds I work in. What does this mean for you? It means you can judge the work as you wish and by all means help me with plot, characters, and building the world, but I ask you to ignore grammar problems as best as you can and the style in which these stories are written. My page on here is my sketchbook and you guys get to see all the rough, nasty parts of my writing.