Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 128

~Soren-

“I don’t understand,” I admit, wondering while all this fuss over a shipping container. Maverick waves for us to follow, and we step under the police tape that is held with flag poles. I follow him and Damian down the sandy path, the crashing waves grow louder as we approach the container, and I can hear the murmurs and gasps from the people gathered around. The sound of feet shuffling through the sand and the occasional splash of water.

Upon reaching the scene, a sense of dread clutches my heart as my gaze is met with a sight more terrifying than I could have anticipated. The large metal container is partially submerged, water lapping around its rusted edges. There’s a crowd of people standing back, whispering among themselves, and I can feel the tension in the air.

“What’s going on?” I demand, striding toward the head council member, Clyde, when I spot him. Maverick follows me, trying to detour me. “My king, I suggest you don’t…” but his words come too late as my shoes are washed with the small waves, and I step over next to Clyde, who’s looking through the open doors on the container. The shipping container is rusted and partially submerged in water, with people. gathered around it and whispering to each other. The coroner and coast guard stand nearby, and I can see outlines of bodies under tarps–my breath lodges in my throat at the sight before me.

“What’s inside?” Damian asks, and I try to tell him not to look,

Chapter 128

knowing what I have seen can’t be unseen.

388 Wouchers

member says, and my stomach

whose expression mirrors my horror. “How many?” I press the gravity of the

get a full count,” Clyde replies, his gaze shifting to the coast guard standing next to the coroner. The tarps flutter in the sea breeze, offering glimpses of the shapes underneath. I force myself to swallow, bracing for

overpowering stench fills the air a nauseating mix of decay and death.

hell happened here?” I mutter, feeling my heart.

race.

furrows as he scans the scene. “Do we know where the

but Maverick is the one who answers. “All we know

all feeders. The container has no defining marks.” my head whips

with a potent cocktail of horror and disbelief. The grim reality of our call materializes, taking form in

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Chapter 128