CHAPTER 6

Dean’s POV

"I hope you picked your words carefully, Whitehall. Because they will be your last," Sam boldly stated in full defiance of the elder Whitehall's opinions.

In the world of the Lycans, respect is earned by the show of strength. To look an elder in the eye is to rescind the respect owed to such an elder, hence a show of confidence in your ability to overpower him in battle.

“A challenge, I see.” Whitehall grinned as his pupils constricted, as if to murder Sam with his glare alone. “Too bad you won’t live to regret this show of stupidity, feral pup,” he added, ready to put Sam in his place.

“Are you both done disrespecting the council?” Dean began with his eyes closed while slowly tapping his finger on the table. “If so, I suggest you retract your fangs and we proceed as civil men.” Dean stopped tapping abruptly, and his eyes opened with a fierce glare. The aura exuded by Dean, what werewolves call the ‘true scent of an Alpha,’ gripped both Whitehall and Sam into submission.

By instinct, they both bowed, and their bloodlust vanished as if it was never there.

Elder Edward smiled at this display. He knew that Whitehall was right—Dean was lacking and failing the pack in comparison to his father.

He understood that Dean could fix up and dedicate more time to the clan, but that would unconditionally mean ignoring whatever it was Dean took as more important. Edward's fear was that Dean would lose the essence of being an Alpha, but this display of Dean had proved to him that that would never be the case, and he was now reassured of the clan’s future.

“Sam is your name, little pup?” Edward spoke in a low, calm tone. Sam, whose instincts were in overdrive, responded sharply, “Yes, Sir.”

“While I understand your keen friendship with the Alpha and your willingness to defend his honor, I will not allow a pup such as yourself to disrespect an elder who has dedicated his life to the progress of the pack. There will not be another opportunity for you, beyond this.”

“I... I understand. I retract my previous statements,” Sam responded as he took his seat. Edward flashed a look at Whitehall, who clenched his fists, then nodded before taking his seat.

“Moving on…” Dean continued after Whitehall had taken his seat. “Whitehall, have the scouts stop searching the woods and order them back to base. The new sires would have moved on to a new hunting ground. The scouts do have their scent, right?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Whitehall responded promptly, the effect of Dean’s presence still lingering on his instincts.

“We’ll split into two teams once the scouts are well rested. Greenbelt Park and Clove Lake are likely to be their next hunting grounds. Get the men prepared; we hunt tomorrow,” Dean concluded as he rose to his feet and started for the door.

---

Dean could never explain it, but ever since he lost his mother, he never felt at home or at peace wherever he went. Part of him still longed and hoped for her touch and kisses. She was his world, and everything revolved around her, the only one who understood him and took care of him in a place as violent and dangerous as the Blue Moon pack.

He had once entertained the thought of using black magic to raise his mother from the dead, but Sam had managed to talk him out of it, reminding him that he could never grant her true peace if he tethered her soul to this earth against nature’s will and, more importantly, that he was being a selfish son of a bitch. He was really grateful for Sam.

“Alpha,” a member of the pack said, walking up to where Dean and Sam sat at the bar.

Dean turned around to find a young man bowing slightly to him in a show of respect.

“How old are you?” Dean asked curiously.

“I turned seventeen a few weeks ago,” the boy answered, unable to hold Dean’s gaze.

Seventeen. The werewolf world was not a merry-go-round; people got hurt and killed, and quite frankly, Dean wasn’t sure he was okay with a seventeen-year-old boy in this kind of life. “And your name, son?”

“Klaus…Nicklaus Wells, Alpha.”

“You’re Whitehall’s son.”

“Hmnph.” Sam hissed slightly as he took a sip from his glass.

“Yes, sir, I am.” The boy responded, not sure if he was in trouble or not.

“Relax and pay no heed to him. So, why are you here, Nicklaus.”

“Well, sir, I am the leader of the scouting unit, and I’m here to give my report if you’ll allow it,” Klaus spoke, ever so politely.

“I asked that you and your team be given time to rest. We don’t go out for another hour; you should be resting.”

“We have taken all the rest we need, Alpha.”

“We?”

“My team and I have been standing ready ever since we returned on your orders. There’s no way we can rest easy knowing the safety and security of our entire pack is at stake.”

“I like you more than your father,” Dean noted, giving the boy a friendly pat on his shoulder.

“Come find me and share a drink with me after this situation has been settled.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Klaus reacted with excitement in his eyes.

“So, let’s have it,” Dean requested.

Dean listened to Klaus go over every single detail of their search with the utmost attention. He also listened to his heartbeat and pulse to determine if the boy was lying or leaving important information out.

“Trust only in what you know,” his father’s voice rang in his head. Dean was not a pessimistic or skeptical person, but he had learned the laws of the werewolf world the hard way, and if he wanted to stay alive long enough to find his mother’s killer, he had to be cautious and remain one step ahead of everyone. He already knew everything the boy reported to him, but he didn’t cut him off or send him away. Strangely, he enjoyed the boy’s sense of duty.

“Alright then, thank you, Klaus. I’ll keep your suggestions in mind as we execute our plan.”

“I’m honored, Alpha,” Klaus smiled as he began to retreat.

“One more thing, Klaus.”

“You’re riding with me,” Dean told him. “We leave in fifty, gentlemen. Get hungry,” he announced to the rest of the room.

There was an uproar of cheers and glasses clinking in the bar.

“Poor boy has a crush on you,” Sam teased, finally draining his glass of whiskey.

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

“Nicklaus Wells. He’s as gay as you are straight.”

“Huh, good for the kid. I couldn’t tell,” Dean confessed.

“What? You want him wearing a T-shirt that says, ‘Hey, I’m gay’?”

“What? No, I never said that.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have a gaydar anyways, and even if you did, it would probably be broken.”

“You are a lowkey asshole.”

“Oh gosh, such accusations, whatever shall I do?” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean giggled before responding,“You are still salty about what happened with Whitehall.”

“I shouldn’t have lost my cool. I just hate it when archaic judgements interfere with modern intellect. You are doing your very best despite the circumstances. If Whitehall or any elder cannot see that, then they ought to retire and not hold you back.”

“I am truly blessed to have a best friend like you. I appreciate everything you have done for me, and in the light of this, I’ll ask that you do not transfer aggression to the poor boy.”

“Look, over there, he is still staring,” Sam nudged gently towards Klaus’s direction.

Dean turned around to find Nicklaus staring in his direction before quickly averting his gaze when their eyes met.

“You are keeping quite the eye on him.” Dean noted.

“You don’t need to worry. Whitehall is Whitehall and Klaus is Klaus. I always treat people based on their merit.” Sam gave a light smirk while cracking his nec

“Awwn, he is becoming less of an asshole,” Dean teased.

“Dick.”

“Alright. Come on then, Sam, rally the men. Let’s go over our plan one last time.”

---

The wild breeze of the night air running through his hair as they sped down the highway was one of the things Dean loved the most about hunting with his pack at night. There were many other things he enjoyed about hunting, but for the most part, the drives to their destination were always a thing of joy for him.

He had isolated the next target locations for the troublemakers to be Greenbelt Park and Clove Lake. Now all he had to do was catch them. Seeing as he couldn’t be in two places at once and needed to put an end to the situation, he split his forces into two, one led by Elder Whitehall, who chose Clove Lake, and the other led by himself, headed for Greenbelt Park.

One way or the other, this ends tonight. Dean's thoughts must have reflected on his face, as Sam gave him a reassuring look as if to say, "I’ve got you, brother."

Their trucks pulled up at the designated spot, and every member of Dean's team disembarked. There were thirteen werewolves in total assigned to the hunt; Elder Whitehall got eight of them, and Dean got five, including himself.

“You two, find a safe place to camouflage the vehicles. We don’t need anyone wondering why there are two empty trucks abandoned on the side of the road.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied, jumping in the trucks and driving away.

“Well, what are you waiting for, men?” Dean asked rhetorically. “Happy hunting.”

Dean was leading the pack as they blitzed through trees and vegetation on their way to where they heard their pack member howl. It was their signal for when the culprits had been found and were on his trail. It would seem Elder Whitehall drew the short straw again. The park wasn’t as thick as he expected it to be.

During his time away, he had followed many trails into deep forests and jungles in pursuit of his mother’s killer, and Greenbelt Park paled in comparison to all of them. But then again, it was a park; what did he expect?

“Finally, I’ve got his scent. How about you, Sam?” Dean asked as he vaulted over a fallen trunk in the swiftest of motions.

“Yup, got the son of a bitch.”

“Who are those closest to him? I’m still a little unfamiliar with their names.”

“Andy and Matthews.”

“They’re good fighters?”

“They are a safe bet. Don’t worry your pretty little head, boss man.”

“Hey, Klaus,” Dean called out. “Good job keeping up so far, kid. We’re gonna kick it up a notch a little. Do well to catch up,” he added before he triggered his partial transformation mid-air and widened the gap between them.

Klaus and the rest of the pack could only watch as their Alpha and Sam moved through the park like it was nothing to them. They moved like they were one with the park, like they had memorized the patterns and knew where everything was at all times.

Dean was the first one to spot Andy and Matthews. They were locked in battle against seven werewolves, one of whom Dean had his scent. He used a tree trunk as a platform and propelled himself straight into the fray.

“Hello there,” he announced as he slammed one of the werewolves’ heads into the floor. It tried to struggle but the sheer strength of Dean was enough to pin it down.

“I see you’ve taken good care of my pack members. We are here to return the favour in full. Isn’t that right, boys?” Dean roared as his followers began peering out of the shadows, partially transformed with their eyes glowing red.

“Holy shit. It is an Alpha.” One of the remaining wolves cried out, pissing himself at the realization of their current predicament.

“Tonight isn’t your lucky night.” Dean pressed down on the werewolf’s head and it fainted from the pressure. The other’s looked in fear at Dean’s display of strength.

“We are fucked.” Another of the wolves cried out

“That’s the right choice of words,” Dean responded as he lifted his left hand into the air.

“GET THEM!”