The Revelation by MJ Riley Page A

her breath away. Across from her, Marilyn's gaze was instantly wary.
                  “What is it?” The Douglas matriarch missed nothing; especially when it had to do with the next generation of her clan.
                  “Nothing.” Yuna assured her as the memory faded, leaving only a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. “I'm fine.” She tried a reassuring smile that wasn't returned, and the gesture died on her lips.
    They were running from Hunters, perhaps, but the young woman was still in very real danger of getting torn asunder by wolves.
     
    **
     
                  Mere hours after the Douglas clan's flight, a rag-tag caravan of cars, some decades past their prime, pulled to a stop in front of the locked gate of the manor. Stepping from a jeep that had seen better days at the head of the line, Micah stared up at the dark windows of the gigantic house and over the lushly landscaped grounds.
                  His face twisted into an expression of disgust.
                  There was a time when wolf vermin would have hidden in fear of their lives. In modern day, they lived in mansions like kings. How could the people of this town be so blind as to miss what was right in front of them?
                  It hadn't been too difficult to follow the many documents they'd found in the wolves' underground den back to this place. They'd been woefully open in their communications with the small town. Everything from the invoices of a small psychology practice to grocery bills had been discovered in a small makeshift office.
                  Micah had been fiercely happy as he'd watched plumes of dirt shoot into the air, heralding the collapse of the place. By the light of the burning, ancient building beyond, he'd read over the documents they'd pulled- and frozen when he'd come across a familiar surname.
                  Douglas.
                  The discovery had filled every fiber of his being with an intense, unquenchable hatred. He hadn't felt the emotion so strongly since the day he'd lost... her. It was, however, quite refreshing to be reminded of his reason for living. How lucky he'd been to stumble upon the trove of information that he had. There were addresses, names and bank statements... when had wolves become so callous and vain that the ordered cases of craft whiskey sent to them in the wilderness?             
                  Then again, he'd reminded himself, these wolves were no ordinary monsters.
                  They'd destroyed his family and ripped out the heart of him with barely a backward glance before disappearing without a trace.
                  And for that, they'd pay with their lives.
                  “Looks deserted, Micah.” Andrew had poked his head out of the driver's seat window of an ancient Oldsmobile behind him, his expression confused. Similarly, others of their number had left the cars to stand in the rain and take in the sight of the imposing building before them.
                  Ignoring the younger man's witlessly obvious statement, Micah stepped up to wrap his gloved fingers around the wrought iron bars of the gate, his insides churning in a mixture of loathing and excitement.
                  So they were onto them.
                  The hunt began.
                  “Crowley!” He shouted over the heads of the ten or so assembled men and women behind him. Within seconds, a middle aged, bearded face appeared out a window. “Bring the bolt cutters. And Madeline, get me plenty of gasoline.”
                  “They can't be long gone, Micah.” At his side, a blonde with green eyes as frigid as a frozen lake had crouched in the mud to examine two sets of fading tire tracks. “These are still relatively fresh.”
                  “There's nowhere they