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"Shifters don't imprint," I told him, keeping my voice calm and devoid of emotion. The rumor had spread quickly enough, no doubt thanks to Arrow, and it was about damn time to quash it. "Certainly not wolves. Considering you've already been through seminary, you should know that at the very least."
He swallowed audibly. "I was just kidding," he said with an uneasy laugh.
I looked at the girl to his left, then the guy to his right. "If you three have so much free time on your hands, I'm sure you’ve already finished all your galley chores. Devotions, too."
That made my point clear enough. They scampered off like little mice, and I snorted.
Deacons. Most of them hadn't yet been out on the hunt, not even supervised, and they all thought they were tough shit.
I walked down the hall to the laboratory, expecting it to be filled with the usual hunters who had staggered infusion appointments. Instead, the doctor was hunched over one of the more seasoned guards, stitching up two massive claw marks running from his shoulder down to the center of his torso. The claw marks were so deep, I could see the white of sinew and bone through them.
The other hunters who were with him stood at attention as soon as I entered the room, and the wounded guard made an attempt to do the same before the doctor scolded him.
"Hold still."
"At ease," I told them, nodding. I looked to the doctor. "Another one, Dr. Kelly?"
He gave me a knowing look. "Third one over the last two days."
"He hasn't shifted back yet?" I asked in disbelief.
"Unfortunately, no, and I could really use a replenishment of my supply of wolf's blood, considering how many people he's injured so far," the doctor said pointedly.
I sighed. "I'll take care of it."
"Please do."
This was getting out of hand. As useful as an alpha was—even if he was an atypical one—they were difficult enough to keep as prisoners when they were capable of shifting and being reasoned with as humans. This one couldn't even manage that.
I had to admit, I was curious where he'd come from and how he had gotten separated from his packmates. For the most part, wolves kept themselves in line, and it was uncommon for one of the rogues to be an alpha. They tended to rise to the top of the ranks, and if they weren't directly in charge of a pack of their own, they were close to it.
The dungeon was dark enough that it took a while for my eyes to adjust. For the most part, it kept the prisoners quiet. The younger vampires were mostly averse to bright lights, and they tended to get testy. It was rare that we captured an older one.
At the moment, we only had two vampires, a regular wolf shifter, and one recruit who had gotten out of hand and was being taught a tough lesson for a couple of days.
When I came to the cell of our newest and most aggressive prisoner, I was surprised to find a human man curled up on the floor where the beast once had been.
He was tall and muscular, but not quite as much as I would've expected, given the vicious nature of his shifted form. He had golden-blond hair that framed a handsome, boyish face and tapered down the nape of his neck. His side bore a pale scar from the wound the hunter from the Order had inflicted on him, and when he rose up off his right arm, I could see the wound Arrow had dealt him hadn’t begun to heal over yet.
It seemed my plan of starving him out was working, since his body would prioritize healing those wounds over the massive amount of energy it took to maintain his wolf form, but if Dr. Kelly hadn’t yet noticed, he couldn’t have shifted back long ago at all.
This creature had, no doubt, killed a dozen people or more in the past week alone. Originally, I had assumed there was a small pack of shifters that had banded together to cause chaos. It happened from time to time, uncommon as it was. The more aggressive ones that couldn't live in packs tended to kill each other as readily as they killed humans.
His eyes met mine, a pale brown just a few shades darker than the gold of his wolf form. They were filled with ferocity until he saw who I was, and then he started to give me puppy eyes.
What the hell was wrong with this guy?
"Castor," he said in a voice that was softer than I would've expected. It wasn't that it was particularly feminine, although there was undeniably a beauty to his features that I hadn't anticipated. His tone was just gentle, almost silken. He stood and walked up to the rusty metal bars.
He looked down and his tan skin grew flushed, as if he had just realized he was naked. At least one part of him lived up to my lofty expectations, given the nature of his wolf form.
"Father Castor de Leon," I corrected. "Although it really isn't necessary for you to address me as anything."
He swallowed audibly, wrapping his hands around the bars. "I'm sorry… Father."
"I'm surprised to see you in your human form," I remarked. "Wounding my men ceased to be of entertainment?"
He opened his mouth as if to answer, but all that came out was a strangled sound. "I… They came at me with needles. I thought they were trying to poison me again."
