After mind-linking Nathan to watch over Polly in his absence, Rafael started the car and drove out of the building. Enemy attacks were rare within his pack, but he knew better than to underestimate scavengers, so the pack guards were stationed diligently at their respective posts before he left.
As he wound down the street, Rafael's knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel, the leather creaking under his strain, hence, he sucked in a breath. The empty street stretched before him, a desolate ribbon of asphalt winding through the day, and tall trees tail each side of the road.
His eyes, sharp and calculating, remained fixed on the path ahead, and while one hand controlled the steering wheel, the other reached for a cigarette pack. He held the cigar stick between his teeth and burned the bottom of the cigar with his lighter, and he tossed it aside afterwards.
