Third persons POV
Water dripped off the cave ceiling as the man who was once an ordinary rogue gathered his belongings to make the journey set upon him. Word had it that the runt was spotted at the Paramount Pack. It was his duty to either retrieve her or retrieve a pack member willing to help get further intel on the pack. The runt was originally spotted with the captive upon his taking. Initially not much thought was given to the small wolf but after several years of no results, a search was sent out for her. She was occasionally spotted but never stayed in one spot long enough to retrieve her. Orders were updated within the previous month to grab her on site but then she made her way to the Paramount Pack and seemed to gather protection from the large pack.
Making his way out of the cave, he nodded to the other failed experiments along the way who stood guard or made their way to their own duties for the day. The organization of rogues, now experiments, had grown over the years at a steady pace. Some experiments didn't make it while others thrived as best as they could in their new states.
The journey to the Paramount Pack took him four days, in which he ate wild rabbits and fished from the occasional stream. He could no longer shift, not since his experimentation. He initially mourned his wolf but was too full of himself to look over what he gained. Increased strength, senses, and stamina meant a lot to someone so full of themself.
Coming close to the pack borders, he found a tree a decent distance from the territory line and climbed. His sight went to the training grounds where he could see a group of wolves training in wolf form, overseen by one man still in his human form. The man would bark out orders and corrections every few minutes. Then there was the Alpha, he was with a much smaller girl, walking her through what looked like basic exercise. The runt. The Alpha went up behind her to adjust her form and gave a not-so-subtle kiss to the side of her head. They must be mates, he concluded. That would make things difficult in terms of getting her. He would have to find an alternate path.
His eyes scanned the pack grounds, trying to locate their cellars. A couple of hops to different trees and he spotted it, not terribly far from the pack house. It appears to be underground and there was currently a guard outside of it. He would wait until night and then go in to collect an angry pack member. The only thing would be to choose the right person.
As the sun set, the guards switched out and the man narrowed his eyes at the sight of the smaller set woman now guarding the cellars. His previous self would have felt bad for having to harm a woman and perhaps part of that old self still lingered as he made the decision not to kill the woman guard. No guards came out from below, making his thoughts drift to how easy this would be. He waited another few hours for the pack grounds to clear out before jumping his way through the trees to get as close to the pack cellars as possible. His scent was non-existent due to the experimentation so as long as he stayed out of eye sight he should be unnoticed. He jumped down as swiftly as possible though the ground still shook slightly under his landing. The woman guard's eyes narrowed in his direction but he was already gone, having used his new speed to run behind her and whack her over the head, before she got the chance to mind-link anyone.
Picking the lock to the cellars, he took the rickety steps downward. The cellars reeked of mildew and blood. He decided to follow the scent of the blood, knowing the tortured are more likely to be angry with the pack. He just had to hope the blood didn't solely belong to a rogue. Cell after cell of pack members sleeping led to cells with the occasional rogue who were awake and cautious, growling at him as if he were a threat to them. If he wanted to be a threat to them he would be but he couldn't be bothered nor did he have the time. Reaching the back of the cellars, the smell of blood intensified. The last cell held a pack member, he could tell by the man's scent that he wasn't a rogue. The man was covered in dried blood with blisters up and down his arms. Wolfsbane. The man cringed at the thought. Wolfsbane still affected him and many of his fellow experiments and his boss made sure to remind them of that any time they failed to follow orders to a T.
He broke the lock to the door, walking into the blood covered cell. He kicked the man whose eyes shot open. The wolf's eyes darted around, a slight fear in them but out weighed even more with anger. Perfect.
"You, can you walk?" He nudged the wolf's legs.
"Who are you?" The man rolled his eyes at the question.
"I'm the person who's going to get you out of here." The wolf's eyebrows raised.
"And why would you do that?"
"Because you're going to help me. Tic for tac, if you will." The wolf winced as he raised himself into a sitting position.
"And why would I do that?" Another eye roll.
"Well it seems your pack sent you down here to die so you can choose. I can always leave you here. Or kill you myself." The whole being dead thing seemed to knock some sense into the wolf.
"Okay. . ." he trailed off. "What do I have to do?"
"What do you know about the new runt in this pack?" The wolf's eyes narrowed. Oh good!
"She's the Alpha's little bitch, that much I know."
"I already gathered that. Do you know enough about the pack's routines to help get to her?" The wolf nodded. "Good. Now back to my original question, can you walk?" He held up his shackled wrists, wincing as the silver metal dug into his flesh. The man got down and made quick work of picking the locks, the silver not affecting him. He helped the wolf get on his feet and then nodded out the door. "Follow me." And the two took off.