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Author: Mia E Rivers
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56
Becca

With my bags lined up by the wall, we sit in the kitchen again. Jason’s tense shoulders tell me everything.

“To be honest, I thought I’d never see you again. The way your texts got so vague since you arrived home made me feel like you moved on to something else,” he says while I drink some juice to quench my parched throat.

“I kind of felt the same from your side,” I reply, but add quickly: “I’ve been researching things I couldn’t share with you over the phone.”

“I assume that research led you somewhere because you are here with all this camping stuff,” he looks at my giant backpack with narrowed eyes, which has several things hanging from hooks and nooks.

“Yeah,” I laugh at the face he makes. “I’m not really the over-shopping type, but I couldn’t stop myself this time. Even though I’m a werewolf, we slept in tents on floatable mattresses during camping trips and mostly cooked our food. I don’t plan on living solely on raw meat while we travel. Do you?”

“Urgh, no,” he repli
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  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   11 simple days

    Becca I found a comfortable Inn in the neighboring town, despite Jason’s mom insisting I take Jason’s room, and soon fell into my new daily pattern in my new jobs. I get up early every day to start my day with Jason as his apprentice, then work in a Diner, and then back to Jason again. Even though my days are long and exhausting, I eagerly anticipate our nightly runs. This is unequivocally the best part of being here. The forest becomes familiar as Makya shows Bliss interesting places and teaches her everything she doesn’t know. Our wolves are so fond of each other, and their relationship grows even stronger with every passing night. The way Bliss follows him without question shows how she trusts Makya with her life and looks up to him for guidance. These weeks have been crucial in allowing us to get to know each other before facing those challenges leading to the Crystal Ice Pack. The first project was a massive office building. We painted the interior for five weeks. Despite wor

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   12 Greyback Pack

    BeccaWith the map in one hand and my water bottle in the other, we tread through the forest, sweat rolling down my back. The air is so thick that there isn’t even a slight breeze. Despite the afternoon sun barely getting through the canopy of trees, I’m burning hot, with my hair stuck to my sweaty neck; the tickling annoys the hell out of me.According to my research, we are already on the Greyback Pack's territory, but there's no sign of werewolves or even humans in the area. With each step, the lump in my throat grows bigger, and my heart is heavy, already knowing we won't find anything.Jason’s steps are heavy beside me. He is losing hope, just like me, but still going on until it’s proven otherwise.We spent two days in the nearest town sniffing around literally and figuratively, asking around the locals for the nearby farms and forest trails. Even though we corrected them each time, the locals seemed to think we were a young couple. I have a feeling we should play into that the

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   13 Howler's Pack

    Becca My skin burns from the beaming sun above. We weren't gifted with clouds today. The parched ground under my boots craves the rain, just like me. The dirt road we took to get to the forest seems endless, and I swear I see things that aren't there. On one side are fields of harvested corn stalks stretching for miles, while on the other, there is a vast cattle pasture. The forest is visible in the distance but still too far to provide any relief. I reach into the side strap of my backpack to retrieve my water bottle, unsure whether to drink from it or pour it on my head. "Why did we think coming on foot was better than by car?" I ask Jason, whose steps are getting heavier beside me. "I'd say no clue, but we both know you were the one who insisted that a little walk can’t hurt," he replies with a grumble. I drink from my water and pretend he didn't say that, but my self-defense gets the best of me. "It didn't look this far on the map," I say defensively. "I guess we lear

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   14

    Becca“So, you don’t know anything about werewolves,” I say in a questioning tone.“No, I didn’t know they existed,” he laughs again with that nervous laugh, and I can’t help but smile at him.He was just a baby when everyone- along with his parents, died. This day does not go the way I thought it would.“Should we go this way?” I ask him, motioning towards where he came from.“Yes,” he replies, stepping out of the bush, and I quickly turn so I don’t face him. We walk side by side, a few meters from each other. He is so thin. I can see his collarbone, the bones on his shoulder, and even his ribs.I share with him the story of my family and our former pack, and he listens intently as I talk about growing up among werewolves. Jason joins us again when I explain what we discovered about the end of pack life and the decimation of the werewolf population.“I must have been around 2,” he says solemnly. “At least, I think, because that is when I got in foster care. No one knows anything abou

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   15 Jason

    Jason I beat my forehead on the steering wheel. Once, twice. Frustration bubbles up in my throat, but I keep the vibrations of growling inside my chest. I cannot believe that they are leaving on that fucking bus, that Becca would simply throw all our plans for this kid. She was like, hey, would you- a complete stranger- want to move in with me? And I had no idea how to stop her without being a total asshole. Of course, I saw the guy was underfed and lived in a tent in the forest. Of course, I wanted to help him. That’s why we were teaching him how to hunt and cook. But he is a goddamn werewolf. With a few more days of practice, his wolf would’ve become natural, as he should’ve been already. Why the hell his wolf didn’t know how to hunt? I ask no one in particular, yet Makya thinks it is time to budge in with his wisdom. ‘He was alone. While we had the pack for a few years, he had never seen another wolf.’ Yep. I just knew he would be a smartass about it. How the hell he isn’t fu

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   16 Scent of death

    Becca“Let’s look at that map again,” Jason says, reaching into my bag to pluck it out. “If no one has been there for two decades, we might have trouble finding it due to overgrown vegetation.”“I was thinking the same thing,” I reply, sighing as the trees separate us again. Despite my efforts to pinpoint the exact location by the description of the closest pack and studying every map of the area, it could still take days to find it. And even then, we’ll have to wait for the right time when the full moon illuminates the forest.I confidently take the lead. Thanks to the satellite images, I have memorized everything I could, even though the forest is so wild that it is impossible to find any track. My boots too often get caught in the tangle of vine and undergrowth to keep a decent pace. I find myself shaking my leg after every few steps. I have to constantly look to the ground, evading most of the vines since it is way overgrown, and the leaves from last fall are still here. This is t

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   17 Blue Moon Pack

    BeccaJason steps next to me as I hide behind a tree. He peeks forward, sniffing for any danger again.“Yes, I know. But only a human,” he replies with a frown on his forehead.There’s no one in sight. Everything is silent, but the creaking of the fire and the scent of stew cooking.We move forward, slowly and carefully, looking around. The forest is the same wild as all day: animals scrape about without fear of being hunted down.As we reach the back of one bungalow, and as Jason touches it, his face turns sour. His shoulders slump, and his head falls over sadly. “There aren’t any werewolves here,” he whispers with conviction.I frown at his statement. We’ve already established that. I can smell only one human, a male, to be precise.“If there aren’t any werewolves here, why do we smell them?” I ask in a hushed tone.Jason frowns before answering and caresses the bungalow. “Is it possible to smell the memory of someone?” he asks, still in a daze.“The memory?” I ask, copying his move

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   18 Hunter

    Becca A shriek leaves my mouth before I pull myself together. I gulp, trying to loosen the knot in my throat, but it’s useless. My legs shake with the only thought occupying my brain: this was the biggest mistake of my life. Coming here is just as dangerous as my parents always warned me. They told me over and over again that hunters never give up and that we still have to be careful because they suspect some of us survived. Is this how our journey ends? I quickly search for my phone to send my parents the coded message about arriving at the Blue Moon Pack. ‘We are strong, and with Jason and Makya, we could easily take him.’ Bliss’s calm words contradict her feelings. Her body is rigid, her ears standing at attention. “Relax.” Jason’s soothing voice accompanies his caresses on my arms and back. At least he isn’t freaking out yet. I can’t relax. My hands shake as I put the phone in the slinger on my hips. There aren’t any curtains on the living room window, I remind myself. We nee

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  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   29 Feelings

    Becca When Jason requested separate rooms at the Inn yesterday evening, I had difficulty covering the hurt on my face. Judging by the receptionist’s expression, I failed completely. At least my room for the night was warm and cozy, with hot water in the shower. It had everything a girl would need, right? Well, the only missing piece was a man to curl around me… And not just any man. Sleeping without Jason’s arm tucked at my waist left me tossing and turning all night. I swear the rhythm of his heartbeat has been engraved in my soul, and now I need it to stay sane. His scent still lingers on some of my clothes, although I refused to bring any of them into bed with me. As the morning sun peeks through the curtains, I stare at the ceiling, listening for any sounds coming from his room. He must still be sleeping. Without the worry lines on his forehead or the tension in his shoulders. Calm and relaxed. And probably naked. Is his morning excitement matching mine? A breathy sigh leaves m

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   28 success

    Becca “I’m sorry, Baby,” Jason says again. “Do you have any idea how to get back to the track or the cliff?” I ask. My voice is breaking with a cry, bringing on the human girl mad at her boyfriend. I twirl, gesturing with my hands around us. “Ummm…” “It’s only trees everywhere. The same fucking trees,” I yell again and put in another wallowing cry. “I think that way,” Jason points in a seemingly random direction, but I know it would take us back to the parking lot. “Good,” and without another word, I continue that way, with Jason catching up to me and apologizing again on the way. We drink and eat on the way, stating loudly how hungry we are and how much better the picnic on the top was yesterday. I’m confident in our act, as we stop 30 minutes later to have the same ‘we are lost’ discussion accompanied by my next crying session. Jason plays his part well, cuddling me and acting convinced that he’ll get the right direction this time. We head for the track that takes us to the

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   27 The clue

    JasonIt took us more than an hour to find a way to climb up behind the rocks. Once we got there, there was nothing to grab or hold on to. Despite our wolf vision, we couldn’t see anything but the moon-illuminated wolf craving. We climbed separately to search through everything, and finally, Becca located a tiny, rolled-up paper wedged between two rocks.If you’re looking for usMake sure to use your sensesFollow the direction of the MoonTo where the Goddess has her Temple“What do you think it means?” Becca looks up at me, her intelligent eyes narrowed in focus. Wrinkles appear under them, but not on the outer lines like smile wrinkles. Instead, they are in the middle around her nose, only showing up when she is focused or determined to fix or solve something. And for a moment, I stare at her, realizing how addicted I have become to reading her expressions.Each time her eyes twinkle with mischief, my heart rate plummets. Each time she talks about her family, they shine like diamon

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   26 the cave

    BeccaMy hands are half healed, but the raw, fresh skin is still too delicate to be used. It needs foaming and bandages for protection.‘If you don’t use it, I’ll heal it in a day,’ Bliss informs me happily.‘We need your strength for the run and the challenge. You can heal me after,’ I reply, and I am glad when she agrees.‘After,’ she says, and joy bubbles in my heart. We are here and ready to face the first challenge.I wear training gloves over the bandages to hide them, hoping they’ll only look at Jason’s hand.We are ready when Elaine gives up her watch and enters the packhouse, but we stand still and wait three more minutes before leaving the bungalow. We settle down to have a quick breakfast in front of the packhouse for the show. It’s better if they see us before we leave. We are up early because we slept through the night like humans. That is what we want them to believe. Lastly, we leave a note for Brock to let him know that we went hiking early and pretend we didn’t see on

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   25 two against two

    BeccaI wake up hours later in the bed, tucked close to Jason, with my hands resting covered in the healing foam. He must’ve carried me to bed, as I’m still fully dressed. I look back at him, and his droopy eyes blink.“Hey,” he croaks.“Thanks.” I turn to my back, keeping my hands over the covers. His arm slips back from my waist, and I instantly regret the move.“Of course,” he replies with a slow smile.“You can sleep. I’m fine and can take over the watch.” I whisper, glancing from the ceiling back to him.“Are you sure?” Jason lifts his head, assessing me.“Yeah. You need to sleep, too. I’ll wake you so we can leave at sunrise.”He slowly nods and turns on his front, his hand under his pillow. Within a few minutes, his light snores tell me he is fast asleep. No surprise there. He didn’t sleep yesterday.No matter where I look, I can’t tell the time. I sigh, cursing myself. I should’ve asked Jason. And for my phone, too. The idea of getting out of bed flies out of my head as quickl

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   24 Burn

    Becca Yesterday, we used our own utensils and ate our own food to avoid the situation we are currently in. To avoid anything they could use against us. I cannot phantom how we missed it today. But I guess we were both too tired and too focused on watching their moves; we didn’t see the hidden intention behind the dinner. The embarrassment of my stupidness colors my cheeks and makes my heart race. How will we get out of this situation? Ideas are popping up in my head, but I have to ditch all of them ‘cause they might make things even worse. The hopelessness of the situation freezes me. I keep my gaze and shoulders steady as I cut the meat and bring the first bite to my mouth. Carefully, though, not to let the fork touch my lips. I let out a moan of delight, complimenting the food, as I focus on steadying my voice. Jason follows my lead, and we quicken our eating. The sensitive skin on my left palm and finger bends is where it is the most painful, becoming a burn I can hardly take.

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   23 Two hunters

    BeccaWe settle down at the table in the little clearing between the houses, slumping down to keep up the act of weak humans.After dropping my backpack on the ground, I take off my hiking boots, realizing happily that blood is on my socks again.“How are you two, Love Birds?” Brock asks, exiting the packhouse.I sigh heavily, showing how tired I am. “The cliff you sent us to was far harder to reach than you explained,” I reply accusingly.His laughter roars through the forest, scaring the birds away.I open my mouth in mock exaggeration. “You knew, and you sent us anyway?” I continue, and he continues with his laughter. I fold my arms over my chest, furrow my brows, and pout. “That wasn’t very nice of you. My toes are bleeding again.” I lift my leg to show him the bloodied sock.Brock comes closer. “You’ll live,” he shrugs, settling beside me. “Besides, I made dinner. That has to conciliate you.”I look over at the campfire and see that he is roasting something. It looks like the ham

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   22 Off the track

    BeccaWith my phone in my hand, I’m trying to balance on one tiptoe as I aim to capture a bird. It is perched high on a tree, obscured from my sight by several branches. Given that this is the third time we have left the track to take a picture, I’m determined to capture it this time.I’m not a photographer, though; I only use my phone, and I never thought how difficult it would be to photograph a bird. They usually fly away before I can take a proper picture of them.Just as when I click, Jason steps closer behind me, whispering. “I haven’t smelled Brock since we started on the track.”We climbed to the cliff and took pictures to prove we were there. As we descended, we sniffed around to find Brock, but he probably didn’t follow us there.I sigh exasperatedly as I check my phone, realizing I only caught the bird’s tail. A branch covers the rest. “Couldn’t you have waited another second for that? I almost got the picture.” I turn my phone to Jason angrily to show him my last failed a

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   21 Trophies

    Becca I shiver as I step through the door of the packhouse. Looking around on alert, I mentally scold myself for thinking about it as a packhouse. I have to make sure not to call it that in front of Brock. The inside looks reasonably clean and renovated. It is a two-story building, not much bigger than the other houses, but the difference is still significant. The polished wood creaks under my hiking boots as I wipe my sweaty palms on my loose t-shirt nervously. Brock proudly shows us around and points out the most important trophies on the wall, telling stories of how he caught and killed each. He likes to hunt; we get it. He has the entire living room to demonstrate it. Let’s hope only for animals and not the supernatural. ‘That ship has sailed,’ Bliss confirms, and I have to agree. He proved us right with that phone call. Not to mention how he sneaked into the house to go through our backpacks. Just the thought gives me shivers. ‘We are lucky to have Jason on our side,’ I tell

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