Rhys, the new and improved alpha of the Knights Ridge pack, trudged through the forest, choosing his steps with care. He wasn't in his bear form despite him nagging to change. The sweet scent of pine called forth a need to roam free, to hunt, to breathe in unpolluted air. His thoughts spun like a dervish. Within this month, the alliance with the vamps, finding out Alrik had failed the pack twice, and on top of it, meeting the woman of his dreams.

Callista Devereaux.

Glorious molten hair, green eyes, and an attitude to match.

His bear grumbled, still furious at him for not taking her and saving her from a vamp. Rhys released a long sigh. He'd explained, over and over, that she wasn't their mate. She was Gabriel's. Blood didn't lie. Hers called to Rhys's bear. Yet her and Gabriel's bond had formed on a telepathic level. They'd conversed, expressions crossing their faces even as words remained unspoken.

Missing a chance at Callie had doomed Rhys to a life of loneliness, unmated and unloved, and because of this, many would challenge him for the role as alpha. He needed a mate to solidify his reign. There was still time before his pack would demand he choose. Until then, he'd enjoy spending time with Callie as they built the paranormal unit.

He'd suspected she'd fall for that. Asking the vamps to test her was necessary to prove her strength and his neutrality. He was far from impartial though when it came to her. He had considered Callie's sister Valerie as a possible wife since she had the same blood in her veins, but she was more reserved than he liked. His pack needed a huntress or someone with a similar disposition. Now he'd have to choose from the city packs and perhaps form alliances to strengthen his position.

Drawing in a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and focused on the task at hand. He was there, in the middle of the forest on Knight Ridge soil, to deal with Alrik's first failure. For fear of his retribution, pack members had tossed aside children who weren't the same species—wolf with wolf, bear with bear. Which was the dumbest thing Rhys had heard of, like humans discarding children born with brown eyes.

Alrik had had a disregard for shifters and specifically children that churned Rhys's stomach. They were the pack's future, no matter the species. A polymorph, able to change into any number of animals, would have been a death sentence to a child.

Which was why he was there. This was little George's home. The polymorph child had transformed into a rat and saved a vamp's life. And in doing so, had highlighted Alrik's sin.

The tampered chemicals in the canister had been the second failure, forcing Rhys to make amends with the vamps by breaking with tradition and centuries of animosity. He now had an alliance with the vamp holds. But unlike the vamps who had the Drimari council to answer to, shifters kept to their packs and didn't interfere. He'd mourned that for a while. A shifter council might have stopped Alrik's tyrannical reign years ago.

Rhys raised his chin and sniffed. No aroma of cooked food greeted him as he entered the clearing. Broken chairs littered the unkempt yard, and the stench of garbage wrinkled his nose. It had his bear grumbling, but that wasn't what shot iced fury through his veins. The roar that tore from him was animalistic, his bear's voice shredding his human vocal cords.

George's brothers, four wolf pups, whined from within an iron cage. Their own feces stained their paws. Each child would undergo training depending on when they transitioned as a toddler. No one had taught these pups how to shift into human form. If they had, they wouldn't have remained in the cage. And the condition of their coats revealed they lacked nourishment.

Rhys ripped the door off the cage, tossing it to the side. It scarred the hardpacked dirt with deep grooves and narrowly missed Noah. Since Noah shifted into a wolf, Rhys gestured to the frightened pups in a silent command to take care of the little ones.

He stormed the dilapidated house, his steps vibrating the porch's rotten floorboards. He thrust the door open, breaking it off its hinges, then shielded his nose and entered, uninvited. Colors merged to burn his nostrils—shades of yellow for blood, urine, and vomit. Unwashed bodies, decayed food, and stale air assaulted him. What kind of a person lived like this? Raised children in this filth and tossed out George to survive on her own?

Along with the disgust was the self-directed anger. How had he not known of this? Noah's face twisted in shock, so this was as much a surprise to him. How many pack members lived in such squalor? The scowl that tugged on Rhys's lips was severe, clenching his teeth until his jaw ached. Make that three failures he needed to attend to.

He marched along the narrow passage, his shoulders brushing the thin walls. Mold grew on sections under the peeling wallpaper, and the cold dampness didn't make him shiver. The squalid desperation did. He peered into each room, finding the same conditions—a few unlivable—until he broke into the kitchen.

A woman—in nothing but a tattered dressing gown—sprawled on the floor. Discarded needles littered the filth around her. He raised his nose to the ceiling and sniffed, picking up the tale-tell scent of narcotics in a sharp mustard yellow. Empty bottles of beer painted a larger picture. No food littered the counters or were stacked in the gaping cupboards which meant she hunted and only for herself if he judged the state of her children.

He spun on his heel, exiting the lopsided house with a determination stiffening his shoulders. Noah arched a brow as he tried to hold onto the scrambling four pups. Fear echoed in their yelps. Their distrust of anyone was clear.

"Burn it to the ground, and if she manages to survive that, kill her." He scooped two pups into his arms, and with a low growl from him, they quietened. "I want all houses documented—their location, condition, and occupants. This shit ends now."

"As you command." Noah handed Rhys another pup to make a call.

Once done, he gathered a few pups, and they stood there, waiting for their pack members. The first to arrive was Jase. He took one look, carried the pups to his truck, and was on his phone when he returned.

Rhys nodded. He had good men, and many were friends he'd grown up with. They were like brothers, having endured under the former alpha Alrik's reign. Never had Rhys imagined things were this bad.

And he should have. After all, he and Aiden had been victims too, losing their parents for some imagined slight. They weren't alone, with many being orphaned and taken in and raised by family or friends.

His pack arrived, some having run there in their were forms. They helped pour gasoline on the house, and minutes later, the blaze had him sweating. As a bear, he ran at a hotter temperature and didn't need fireplaces or heaters to keep warm. Despite the discomfort, he didn't move away.

Other men kept the ground around the house wet to ensure the fire didn't spread to the surrounding wilderness. A forest fire would call attention to their land, and despite having no beef with humans since shifters were part-human, shifters tended to be wary of outsiders. As a pack, they watched the house burn to the ground. Smoldering embers glowed into the darkness of night, but no one left.

"I will take the pups," Reade said. "We lost our child. The little ones might ease Miriam's pain." The agony lingering in his gaze meant he too suffered.

"Thank you, Reade." Rhys acknowledged his offer with a nod. He faced his men, a few disgusted or horrified at this discovery. "Spread the word. If you hunger, ask. If you need diapers, we'll find the money, but if I learn you're abusing a child, your life ends."

They grunted their agreement, and thus a new law was formed.

Author's Note: This is the first three chapters. The full novel is on sale. Yes, I know, you want it to be free, on Wattpad, but alas, there are some nasty folks stealing my stories.

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