Chereads / The Corals with the Wifes / Chapter 410 - 137

Chapter 410 - 137

[b]Chapter Nine[/b]

The next few days are a blur.

Your pack turns the city inside out looking for Blackwell. You hunt the streets at night and scour the internet during the day. You poke your noses into every shady, slimy corner of the paranormal world. You steal, intimidate, and buy information from vampires, witches, and even a few unsuspecting hunters.

But you don't find him.

On the fifth day the pack — wrecked by frustration, grief, and exhaustion — reluctantly but unanimously agree to call off the hunt. You're not going to get him. Not this way. And, even if you were, Blackwell is an old vampire, powerful, not to mention rich. If you're going to destroy him, you need to stay strong. That means, not wasting energy on a useless search.

And so, the pack returns to the den. The big old warehouse is cold when you walk in, but still smells like home. Wolf. Family. Pack.

Next

It's a risk coming back here. You know it is. Blackwell knows this place, and has proven he or one of his servants can get close without your pack noticing. But, despite that, it's still the most defensible building your pack is renting, by a long way. It also has enough space for everyone, which is important because there is no way in hell anyone is going anywhere alone right now.

Ed brings boxes of clothes, computers, and books when he moves in.

Vicky comes with nothing except a small backpack and a spiky green house plant tucked under her arm.

Marco leaves his room so Nikolas and Grace can take it.

And then, sickeningly, everything settles into a strained kind of normality. You eat, sleep, stand watch, and wait. Above, the moon gets bigger, angrier, hungrier.

The wolf inside you bristles.

You close your eyes and sigh. You're outside the den, 'getting a breath of fresh air' though the air isn't very fresh. The city's stench is thick today. The reek of cars, smoke, and people fills your nose. Fuck, but you hate this place.

But there is something else on the wind too. The musky familiar scent of wolves. A lot of wolves.

You sigh, pull your phone out of your pocket, and drop a message in the pack's group chat.

Roe's here.

It's not a surprise. Roe's pack has been visiting a lot over the last few days, dropping off supplies, sharing rumours, and helping with the hunt. Some in your pack have been grateful. Others less so.

You're...