Black Scar by Karyn Gerrard

which sent a
wave of longing through her.
    “How can you all
sit here and calmly talk of weddings and roast beef when Marcus has been
kidnapped?” she cried.
    The table grew
quiet. Deegan continued to heap slices of blood-red roast onto his plate.
    “I have a call
out to Devlin Steele. There are protocols to this, Logan. We cannot storm his
compound like we’re a special-ops team. If I do not get a response by tomorrow,
Tristan, Lucius and I will pay them an unannounced visit late in the
afternoon.”
    “Damn right.”
Lucius growled in a low, threatening tone.
    “He was taken
against his will. You know this, Deegan.”
    Deegan reached
for the mashed potatoes and heaped a couple of spoonfuls on his plate.
    “We know nothing
of the sort.”
    Logan could not
control her emotions. This was a rather disturbing prospect, as Faepyres were
quite adept at hiding their feelings.
    “His cane was
found on the walk, and how did he leave? Teleportation? No vehicle is missing.
I don’t understand why you do not have CCTV cameras covering every inch of the
properties...”
    “Logan, I am able
to have one meal a week, and I would like to enjoy this one. My dear,
everything is well in hand. We will not abandon Marcus. We will obtain an
answer one way or another, I promise you.”
    Everyone around
the table looked at her, some with impatience, and others with sympathy. Tears
formed in her eyes again. Trevina took her hand and squeezed. There was so much
left unresolved between her and Marcus. What if he did decide to return to his
Pack? Once again, she had served up her heart to be broken.
    ****
    The dining area
grew silent as soon as Marcus walked in and grabbed a tray. He stood and gazed
about the large room. Half of the people stared at him with revulsion while the
other half looked away. He walked over to the food. He really wasn’t hungry,
but be damned if he would hide in his messy room. Stainless steel trays of
vegetables and slices of pork roast beckoned, so he took a little of each.
Jesus, this room resembled the dining area at Alcatraz. How appropriate, it
felt like prison. Screaming toddlers ran up and down the length of the dining
room, effectively ignored by the adults. Marcus scooped corn onto his plate and
wondered how many of the children running wild were Devlin’s. As the Alpha, he
was required to breed and often. He had witnessed his brother once with a woman
a few years back. Devlin performed the act with a cold and calculating manner,
just as he approached everything else in his life.  
    Marcus turned and
scanned the dining room when he spotted a couple of his ... friends? No, not
even friends were part of pack life.
    He sat down, and
Steve grabbed his hand in a brief gangsta-type acknowledgement. Reaching for
the salt, Marcus asked, “Where is Ethan? I haven’t seen him.”
    If Marcus had
anything close to resembling a friend, it was Ethan. He was also his
fuck-buddy, as were a couple of other guys at this table, but they were so used
to hiding their preferences no sexual undercurrent passed between them.
    Steve glanced
about the room, and then leaned close to Marcus. “He was put down.”
    Marcus dropped
the salt shaker. To be put down like an abandoned dog in a pound was the height
of insult and one of the severest punishments. Only the Alpha could make this
decision, and he knew Devlin did not make the decision lightly.
    “Why? When?” he
managed to croak.
    “Ethan had been
caught behind one of utility sheds with an outsider. A man he met on a regular
basis,” Steve whispered. “Caught in mid-thrust. He’d been interrogated, but
didn’t give any of us up. He and this guy—Ethan was in love with him. He had
made plans to leave the compound and build a new life. He was put down three
days ago.”
    A high-pitched
buzzing tore through Marcus’s brain. He pushed away the tray of food.
    “We have to be
extra careful now. We are going to try and get together tomorrow night in the
usual spot. You're