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I don't know why I thought things might be different. I guess, I had hoped after four years, he might have somehow improved.

The constant pleas for money should have been a clear sign that he hasn't changed one bit.

The pack is still as rundown and tired-looking as it was four years ago when I left. I know from one of the pack members that our numbers have depleted significantly. Many have left and joined other packs, eager to get away from his poor leadership.

When I was orphaned at eighteen, he took me in. But that does not mean that he is a good person or role model. He has a gambling addiction, a dangerous one.

I tried to get him help. I tried to convince him that he needed to talk to someone about this, but he wouldn't listen. After a year of watching him burn through all the pack's money, I had to get out of here. He was going to take everyone down with him and I didn't want to watch.

It might have been cowardly, but I was going through a lot myself. I'd lost my parents and it sounds harsh, but he's not my family. He is someone who took me in once when I was alone.

There was nothing I could do but advise pack members to get out whilst they could and never lend the Alpha any money.

I drag my suitcase into the hallway and go straight to his office. I'm older now, stronger. I'm a different person. I won't let him get away with this. If things are still as dire as I suspect, I am going to report him to the Alpha Committee.

I knock on his office door and open it when there is no reply. At first, I think that the room is empty. But then I hear a sniffle.

I find him sitting on the floor behind his desk. In his hands is a gun, which makes me freeze on the spot.

'Alpha? What are you doing?' I ask worriedly.

His glassy eyes look up and meet mine. His bottom lips trembles.

'Camisa,' his voice breaks on my name. 'You're back.'

'Why do you have a gun?' I ask cautiously and I get to my knees in front of him. 'Can you give it to me, please?'

He clutches the gun tighter to his chest. He shakes his head despondently and more tears run down his face.

'We're all screwed,' he whispers. 'I fucked up. Really badly this time.'

My heart sinks. 'What happened?'

He winces, as though it pains him to admit this out loud.

'I borrowed money from the Demonio pack.'

'Fuck,' the curse word falls from my lips.

I sit back on the floor and cross my legs. The Demonio pack are not good people. They're a small, bully of a pack. They double-cross others, steal and plunder. They're not people you want to be anywhere near or associated with.

His phone starts ringing on the desk behind him. We both ignore it.

'How much?'

'Too much,' he whispers.

'Okay.' I take a deep breath. 'Maybe, I can speak to them? Work out a payment plan?'

He shakes his head and sobs loudly. 'It's too late.'

'Why? What is going to happen?'

His fear-filled eyes meet mine. 'They're dead.'

His answer confuses me and I frown at him. 'What?'

'I didn't realise,' he pauses to hiccup. 'That, to lend me the money, they borrowed money themselves...from Caesar Drakos' pack.'

My heart instantly starts thumping faster. My lips move, but no words come out. Shock consumes me. At the back of my mind, I process his phone vibrating on the desk again.

'Caesar Drakos? As in, Alpha of the Western territory?'

He nods once.

'And he killed them,' I state aloud, already knowing it to be true.

'He visited their pack yesterday. Tore the alpha apart. He killed most of the pack and made the rest join his. My friend, he got out. He warned me that they were going to come for me next. They're coming tomorrow.'

I leap to my feet at his words. 'Then, we need to go! Come on, get up! We have to get out of here.'

'It's too late,' he wails and presses the gun to the bottom of his chin. 'I can't do this. This is my fault. I deserve this.'

'Killing yourself will not solve anything,' I tell him firmly. 'Fuck. I need to warn the pack.'

His phone rings for the third time and I pick it up with an irritated scoff. There is no picture but the caller ID says Mohammed.

'Who is Mohammed?' I ask him.

'My friend from the Demonio pack. The one that made it out.'

I miss the phone call. The screen returns to the lock screen, which shows nine missed calls from Mohammed. A text comes through as the phone sits in my hand. It makes my heart stop.

'Drakos is coming now,' I pass on the message desperately. 'You need to get up!'

He sobs and shakes his head. 'It's too late, it's too late.'

I look around pathetically and my eyes land on the PR system that is linked to speakers across the pack. I need to warn them.

I clear my throat and press the button.

'This is Camisa Nelson speaking on behalf of Alpha Richard. I need you to pack your things and get out of here as soon as possible. Caesar Drakos is on his way to take over our pack. Save yourselves and leave.'

I release the button and exhale shakily. I rush over to him, pull the gun from his trembling hands and put it on the desk. He isn't going to kill himself, I know it. He would hold that gun for hours and he wouldn't pull the trigger. It isn't the first time he has threatened this.

(A/N hopefully, you would be a lot more sensitive with someone who is contemplating suicide, but this is a silly character in a story)

'You need to get the fuck up,' I snap at him.

My words barely even register. He just stares at the wall. I sigh exasperatedly and storm out of the room. I reach my suitcase in the hallway and grip the handle.

Guilt gets the best of me.

I can't leave him.

I turn on my heel and rush back into the office. I hook my hands under his armpits and pull. I heave him to his feet as he cries silently. I grab his wrist and put his arm around my shoulders. Supporting his weight, we stumble towards the door.

Outside, I can see pack members flying down the main road in their cars. Abandoning their homes, their pack. I feel relieved knowing that they are going to be okay.

With great difficulty, I get him to my car and shove him into the passenger seat. I buckle him in and go back inside to retrieve my suitcase.

When I come back out, he has his head in his hands and is hunched forwards. The last of the cars leave. The pack looks like a ghost town. Toys are still on the front gardens. Untouched papers sit on the driveways. Tyre tracks from fast accelerations mark the road.

The roar of unfamiliar engines reaches my ears. I look over in their direction and see dark cars coming up the main road.

Fuck.

They're here.

I start the car and floor it backwards, in reverse. I leave the tarmac and go onto the grass, driving over the back lawn of the pack house whilst Richard cries next to me. With one hand on the steering wheel, I click my seatbelt on.

I round the large building as the cars arrive. As they pull up to a stop and people start getting out, I shoot past them. My foot is hard on the accelerator, pressing the pedal to the floor of the car.

I can hear shouts over the hum of the engine and cars follow after me as I whizz down the main road. We bump about, feeling every lump and pothole on the well-used track. Richard is sobbing loudly next to me.

'Shut up, will you? I'm trying to think!' I shout at him.

He wails but goes quiet. I continuously glance between the road in front and the rear-view mirror. They're closing in on us. My little Peugeot is no match for their monster cars.

An enormous jeep comes up behind me. No matter how hard I push the engine, I can't put any space between us. The jeep nudges the back of my car, making the framework shake. My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white.

We start to approach the main junction for turning out of the pack territory. I have no choice but to swap to the brakes and slow down. The jeep rear-ends my car, purposefully slamming into the back of it.

There is a loud crunch of metal and my car veers drastically to the right. I turn the wheel, trying to counteract it, and we sway across the road. The jeep hits us again and my car is spun sideways. I'm powerless to stop it as the car spins and spins before hitting a tree.

I'm thrown forwards. My seatbelt locks and tightens on my chest, throwing me back against the chair. I groan as pain shoots through my head and spine from the whiplash. The back of the car is a mess, the rear windows are broken. Richard is unconscious next to me.

My vision, although blurry, is clear enough that I spot a tall, bulky figure approaching the car.

Shit.

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Tomorrow, I will post in The Lust Anthology.

I am going to post a chapter on my experience with publishing. Give it a read if you are interested, please!

Also, please please please could you comment here if there is anything else you want to know about (writing, books, plots etc).

I know I have already written a brief chapter on this before but let me know if there is anything else you want to know or that I can maybe help with! 😊💖