Greykin Mountain

| 36 | Wait

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐

The stray's coat was an entangled combination of silver and black, twisting around his fur in a wave-like pattern. His eyes were as orange as Tokala's hair, and one of his ears had half bitten off. He looked rugged, weary, and like he'd been through more fights than he had claws—and he only had nine of those. One toe on his front-right paw was missing.

          He lifted his head when Damon and Jackson approached, but when Jackson moved away from Damon to go and grab one of the blankets from the pile of linen over by the stacked barrels, the stranger eyed him closely.

          Jackson took a blanket, wrapped it around his naked body, and then hurried back over to the Alpha, who roared ferociously at the wolf, who was forced into his human form.

          The black-haired man stood up. His scraggly body was reminiscent of an old, crooked tree—it looked as though he hadn't eaten in weeks. All that was left of his missing left ring finger was a tiny stump, and despite his current predicament, the man kept a condescending smile on his pale face.

          "Back for round three, huh?" the stranger asked with a smug tone. "Are we doing good cop bad cop now? You the good cop?" he asked, glancing at Jackson. "You look more like a rookie to me."

          Damon snarled quietly before morphing into his human form.

          The stray's sights shifted to Jackson. "Oh, right...you're the little Omega boss man here was talking to yesterday, aren't you?"

          "Yeah. I'm Jackson. And you?"

          "Huh...I like you already. Julian."

          Damon side-eyed Jackson with an expression that said he wasn't sure of his approach.

          But Jackson wasn't going to stop. He found a calmer approach worked more often than not, and he'd already gotten the guy's name. However, he wasn't sure where he was going from here. He did have an idea, though. "I, uh...so, I haven't been a wolf walker long—to be honest, they were just a story to me a few days ago. But what I have learned is that we all have a common enemy, right?"

          Julian waited.

          "So, if you do have a pack out there, wouldn't it be better for us all if we got along?"

          The stray stared for a moment, but then snickered quietly and shook his head. "So, you are the good cop. Look, Jack-son. I'll tell you exactly what I told your Alpha. It was just me and three others. Now, it's only me. We were all rogues out there looking for an easy kill. We didn't mean to start a fight."

          "That's not what my wolves say," Damon growled.

          "Your wolves are lying," Julian insisted. "They just wanna get me killed because one of my group blew that fucking mineshaft up 'cause he's a dumbass and didn't look where he was stepping!"

          "My wolves wouldn't lie to me—"

          "You really believe that?" the stray asked with a scoff. "The kinda shit I heard coming out that Beta's mouth...you'd be surprised."

          Was he talking about Elias? Of course he was. It wasn't shocking that the guy Aysel was sneaking around with would be bad-mouthing Damon behind his back, especially after what Jackson had heard him say earlier today.

          Julian's words caused an aggravated glower to claim Damon's face.

          "Oh, you know," the man said with a frown. "See, this is why I don't get involved with packs. All the politics and rules and scurrying around behind each other's backs." He looked at Jackson. "I won't tell anyone, by the way," he whispered.