Molly, a tall blonde woman with a sharp, pixie cut and strict features, allowed a soft smile to grace her lips as she surveyed the room. She had often wondered what it would look like, what it would feel like to stand at the epicenter of all wolf history. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. It was her time. She would be the Queen's attendant.
A harsh baton slammed against the bars of a cell, rousing its occupants. "Time to wake up," a harsh voice bellowed. The officer knew he didn't need to speak; the moment it was time, the lights in each cell would turn on, accompanied by an irritating buzzing. Yet, he still found amusement in striking each cell as he walked down the corridor.
With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, Molly scanned the limited information the council had provided on her tablet. It wasn't much, but her task was clear. She crossed the dusty wooden floors, each creak a testament to the castle's age, and approached the large, imposing fireplace in what would soon be the Queen's office—and her own. Holding a small pouch, she took one final, deliberate breath before tossing it into the hearth. Instantly, a blazing fire erupted, its heat sweetly kissing Molly's skin. It was time for everyone to wake up and get to work. The Queen was coming.
There weren't many of these "monsters" they had caught, or managed to keep alive. The cold, desolate gray concrete of the facility made the place look as hopeless as he knew it was. On either side of the short corridor, eight guards stood behind bars, each holding a similar, charged baton, ready to incapacitate any inmate who tried anything.
Miles above the Queen's castle, a column of purple smoke billowed brightly into the sky, visible to anyone below. It was a beacon, alerting the townspeople that it was time to return. Their service would begin anew.
Reaching the last cell, its bars were distinct from the rest: pure silver. The officer found it comical that something so simple could hold such a strong beast, probably something the "gods" had devised to show these monsters their vulnerability. Crouching down, he stayed on the safe side of the brightly painted yellow line, an indication of safety from the inmate's potential swipe. He looked at the creature, a hulking figure parading in human skin, its form hunched and emaciated. This one had been arrogant upon arrival. Now, he was a shadow of himself. "I hear you're going to have friends soon, old yeller," Larkin spoke amused. He wasn't sure what the creature called itself, but he liked "old yeller," he knew the beast would end up just like the dog in the movie. "Get up."
"Everything must be meticulously taken care of," Molly spoke, her voice clear and resonant, to the gathering staff. "Every inch of this house must be cleaned and fixed up to the standard of today. Nothing can be left unaccounted for." She knew the castle required extensive renovations; it had been unused for decades. Leaving the small group, Molly strode through the grand hallways, her eyes scanning for any missteps, observing every person's movements. No one was allowed to be out of sync.
"You know the drill, stay on the right side of the yellow line. If you step past it, you're going to get hurt. Open them up." Larkin stepped away from the cages, his men readying their batons. It was time for these "pets" to go for their checkups. A loud beep indicated the cells were unlocked. All at once, each cell automatically opened, triggering another alarm, ensuring everyone knew the "dogs" were out of their cages.
"Straight lines," Larkin shouted to his captives. They all looked dead behind the eyes, except for the large one with the shock collar around its neck, whose eyes never lost their wildness. Larkin and his men led the group of monsters to the first lab. Like every other day, they would be tested, poked, and prodded by the "lab geeks" in their white coats. Whatever the scientists were doing, Larkin wasn't interested.
"Where's the lead Guardian? I don't have a list of Guardians in their posts. I need it now!" Molly glared at the large wolf before her, unmoved by his imposing size. She was about to stand beside the most powerful wolf in the world; she was not easily intimidated.
Larkin sipped his coffee, oblivious to the screams around him, wanting only to read his book in peace. When a subordinate interrupted him, he fought the urge to toss his coffee in the boy's face. "What?"
"Big guys upstairs are having a meeting. They want you in."
Larkin cursed under his breath, annoyed. Meetings here were never good; they meant things were changing, and change usually meant risk, and risk meant death. Larkin was content with his current assignment: an off-grid, off-books government research facility with sweet pay and boarding. It couldn't get much better for a reject like himself, who hadn't adjusted well to civilian life after his military missions. "Stay here!" Larkin told his subordinate as he walked away, hoping to figure out what was going on.
Molly sat at the head of a long conference table, listening intently as each staff member provided an update on their tasks. She simply nodded, noting every detail on her tablet, creating a detailed list of outstanding items. "We need the cells cleaned out," Molly murmured, rubbing her forehead as a headache began to throb. "There's always blood with a new Queen."
Rubbing his forehead, Larkin sat at the conference table, wishing he had chosen a different assignment. "We've sent out more teams than usual trying to hunt down more specimens," Dr. Lee spoke up. As the lead assistant for the head of the project, he hated these meetings and preferred his lab and research. "Each team brought their own tracker—"
Larkin held himself back from rolling his eyes. He didn't understand why Dr. Lee always tried to find a fancy way to describe what they were doing. They were practical traffickers. The only silver lining was that they weren't exactly trafficking in humans.
"The council's requesting 100 Guardians to aid them in their search for the new Queen. They have narrowed down that she's in Marcus or Carly's territory. Archer, which of your men should go?" Molly held her tablet, its screen displaying a meticulous log of every active Guardian. She needed a log. No one stepped in or out of this place without being quantified.
"We aren't the Guardians of the council. They cannot summon us." Archer, a man with military-style hair shaved close to his scalp, responded clearly. He was not Molly's wolf, nor the council's.
"The council has requested your aid. It's your choice to turn down the request. In doing so, it may take longer to find the Queen. You are not there to do anything for them. You're there to be able to instantly protect the Queen when she is found. Whatever way you need to frame it, it's up to you." Molly struggled to tolerate the Guardians; their sole right to protect the Queen often led to ridiculous mental hoops, as their orders came only from the Queen herself.
Dr. Lee removed his glasses, pulling a microfiber cloth from his pocket to wipe off the fingerprint he had just put on them. "We need more specimens. With the full gene."
Larkin wanted to put some boots on this doctor and send him out into the field. He didn't understand what he was asking. Catching a "big one" alive was a fluke. Purposefully going out to catch living werewolves was a dangerous task, one he didn't want to participate in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Walter Stone. The man lived for the field, and for some reason, he hated these wolves as if they had killed his mother. Larkin crossed his fingers that Stone would volunteer, considering his affinity for that level of risk.
"Alive?" Stone asked. The last time he and his guys had gone out, he'd gotten into a bit of trouble and they hadn't appreciated the bullet he'd misplaced between his borrowed wolfs eyes.
"Yes, we can deal with injuries. They can be pretty extensive from what I've witnessed. But alive is necessary." Dr. Lee wasn't shocked by Stone's question; Stone had a reputation for roughing up test subjects. If a subject died around here, Stone probably had a hand in it.
Archer stood before the Queen's castle, 100 men arranged before him and Molly. "These are my chosen, strong men. They are not going to be swayed by the council, or you."
"I'll send their names over to the council. Until then, they should make their way there. I don't want them to fall behind the council. The Queen's going to need your protection." Anything the council touched required a level of protection. Archer found himself agreeing with Molly; the Queen would indeed need protection from the scheming council.
"24 hours, pack up, say your goodbyes, get moving. Nickel, you're in charge." One of the men in the front row stepped forward, bowing his head to his commander, before turning to face the 99 other men.
The sound of laces sliding through boots could be heard everywhere. They were gearing up. It was time to go after the big fish.
Stone grinned as he looked over his new team. It was the biggest team he'd been given yet. He wasn't solely in control, but that didn't matter. Now that they were going after the "real monsters," he didn't have to hold back so much. He wasn't a scientist like his superiors, but being out in the field, he had learned a lot. These bastards could take a shot. If it wasn't silver, it wouldn't kill them. They healed fast. The only time their healing slowed was when they got silver in their system. He was going to have fun with these big fucks. It had been a long time since he was able to hunt something big and fun. People used to be exciting to hunt when he was in the war. Now, he knew humans weren't that fun. It wasn't that hard to hunt someone just like yourself. What an animal that thought like a human—it was the epitome of every hunter's dream: real prey. If it weren't for this assignment, he would still be on suspension.
"Boots on the ground, boys, we're going hunting!" Stone shouted in excitement to his group.