Jesse tried his best not to gag, keeping his eyes off the body as Ross opened the bedroom door and led the way out into the corridor. It was heavy, and every time he felt the legs shuffled around inside the duvet, Jesse grimaced and attempted to focus on anything else.

His heart was racing, and his anxiety was constricting him tighter and tighter with every backward step he clumsily took. He glanced at Ross, who wasn't struggling at all—he'd clearly done this before—and every time Jesse looked over his shoulder to see how far from the end of the corridor he was, the more he dreaded that his gaze might meet that of a Vârcolac guard.

"Relax," Ross then grumbled. "I'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

"You might be able to, but I can't," Jesse exclaimed quietly.

He scoffed. "I thought you'd at least have learned to use your senses properly."

Jesse scowled but didn't snap at him. Not only did he not want to raise his voice and risk attracting attention, but what Ross said also hit a nerve. His parents never taught him much at all; everything he did know, he'd learned by himself, from what friends he managed to find, and the people he dated. His family never taught him how to decipher each individual scent in a place where there were more than three; they never taught him to detangle a combination of several different sounds, and they never taught him how to control his anxiety and fear, either. But why would they? He was just an Omega.

When they reached the end of the corridor, Jesse stiffly turned to his right, guiding Ross down the left hallway.

He wondered what his family would think of him being wrapped up in a shitstorm with a Ucigaş and a werewolf, probably soon to be locked away and sentenced for a crime he hadn't willingly committed. Hell, he could be making an attempt to escape even now, but he wasn't. He was carrying a corpse, heading towards a balcony to dump it into the ocean, helping a criminal—the worst kind of criminal in wolf walker society.

Jesse guided them into another hallway, getting closer to the window. His arms were starting to feel numb, and he wasn't sure whether it was because of the weight of the body or because of his anxiety.

A door closed loudly behind him.

With a horrified flinch, Jesse looked over his shoulder, listening to the incoming footsteps.

They were going to get caught.

"In here," Ross grunted, pulling a door to his left open.

Jesse didn't hesitate. He quickly followed Ross into the storage room and pulled the door shut behind him.

And then they waited.

As his heart thumped rapidly in his chest, Jesse listened to the approaching heavy footfall. It got closer...and closer, every collision against the wood pushing him nearer to sheer panic. What if they were Vârcolac? A demon's sense of smell wouldn't miss the stench of the corpse, and neither would that of another wolf walker or a vampire. If they were discovered, it would either all be over, or he'd have to stand there and watch Ross kill someone else.

He closed his eyes and hoped that the incoming person was human or wasn't paying attention to their surroundings. His legs trembled, and his breaths felt sore in his throat as angst gripped him tightly.

"Calm down, fuck," Ross muttered.

Jesse opened his eyes and scowled at him. "Calm down?!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice as quiet as he could.

The footsteps thumped past the door...and then they receded down the hall.

"Do you seriously not know how to tell what's human and what's not?" Ross asked.

His scowl thickened as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "I told you; my brother got all the attention."

"But you're a Redwood. Surely, your pack would have taught you the basic—"

"Yeah, well, they didn't," Jesse snapped. "As far as they're concerned, I'm not a Redwood. Now can we just get rid of...this?" he grumbled, glancing down at the corpse, still holding its ankles.

Ross took his eyes off Jesse and glanced around the room; it looked like he was tapping into his senses to see if it was safe to leave. After a few moments, he looked expectantly at Jesse.

With a roll of his eyes, Jesse pulled the door open. He cautiously peered outside, looking up and down the hall; he didn't see anyone, so he awkwardly shuffled out of the room, and Ross followed.

They headed to the end of the hallway, and when they turned into the corridor with the balcony door, Jesse huffed in relief. All they had to do was get over there, open the doors, and dump the corpse overboard. But Jesse started feeling guilty again. What he was doing was wrong; once they got rid of the body, it would never be found.

What choice did he have, though?

He shoved his thoughts aside and focused on getting rid of the thing that would ensure he never saw the outside of a prison cell. He'd try and work out the rest later.

The pair moved closer to the balcony door, so close that Jesse could smell the scent of the salty air over the lingering wolfsbane, so close...that he could smell the tobacco and hear the quiet voices of several men on the other side.

"Shit," Ross growled.

"W-what do we do?" Jesse panicked.

Ross looked around, but there was no other way to get the body outside.

"Do we take it back to the room?"

The man huffed and looked over his shoulder, but he clearly realized at the same time as Jesse did that someone was coming that way, too.

Jesse tensed up, his heart racing, his limbs trembling. They were going to get caught—they had to do something! There were no closets, no storage rooms, only the stretching, empty corridor between them and the balcony.

"There," Ross said hurriedly, nodding to Jesse's right.

He turned his head and set his eyes on a kitchen trolley. "W-what?"

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Hide the body in the fucking trolley," he urged, shoving Jesse with the corpse.

Jesse rushed to the steel trolley and pulled the doors open. He helped Ross stuff the corpse in there as best as he could with one hand while using the other to make sure that the kettle and mugs didn't fall off.

"Come on!" Ross grunted.

With a desperate wince, Jesse let go of the appliance and pushed with all his might, trying to shove the body in. Once he was sure it was inside, he hastily shut both doors.

The footsteps were getting closer.

"What about us?!" he exclaimed quietly, looking around.

Ross wordlessly snatched Jesse's collar and yanked him towards and into a very small gap between one of the ship's foundations and a stack of supply crates. The man then heaved the stack, turning them so that they'd conceal the pair behind, and then they froze, listening, waiting.

Jesse peered through the small gap and watched as Sophie, the stewardess, walked past. The woman followed the corridor, but when she approached the trolley, she slowed down...and stopped in front of it. His entire body went so tense that Jesse had to hold his breath to ensure that he wouldn't breathe too loud; he observed, his horror growing with every passing second, as Sophie poured some water from the kettle into one of the mugs. She mixed in some lemon and sugar but didn't move away when she took a sip, and the longer she stood there, the harder it was for Jesse to hold back his trepidation.

Suddenly, Ross clamped his hand around Jesse's mouth, and when Jesse turned his head to stare at him, the man held one finger to his own lips and scowled at him.

With an obedient nod, Jesse set his eyes back on the stewardess.

Sophie put her mug down.

A conflicted frown appeared on her face, and she shook her head.

She reached for the trolley's door handles.

She was going to find the body.

Jesse had to do something; that corpse was wrapped in the duvet from his room, and it wouldn't take long for the ship's staff to work with the Vârcolac to find out who was missing their blanket.

He didn't give himself a chance to overthink. Jesse pulled free from Ross' grip before the man had a chance to work out what he was going to do; he slinked out from behind the crates and called, "Sophie!" in a surprised tone.

The woman jumped in startlement and turned to face him, pulling her hand away from the handle. "O-oh, Jesse," she said with a relieved giggle. "You startled me again."

"Sorry," he said with a nervous chuckle. "I kinda tend to do that...sneak up on people without realizing."

She smiled and asked him, "Can I get you a tea or some—"

"N-no, I'm good," he said as he reached her just as she was about to grab the door handle again. "What's that?" he then asked, looking down at her drink.

"Oh, just some lemon and water," she said. "Needs more sugar." She reached for the handle—

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something," Jesse blurted as his heart skipped several beats as horror shot through him.

Sophie frowned and lowered her hand. "What is it?"

"Have they found the prisoner yet?"

"Not yet, no. They think he might have jumped overboard and attempted to swim back to land. I heard the guards talking, and they said that they were going to call for someone to search the water."

Jesse nodded but didn't want to give silence a chance to settle. "Do you know...anything else about what he did?"

She looked a little haunted and crossed her arms, turning to face him.

That relieved Jesse. Maybe she wouldn't make any more attempts to open the doors.

"Are you...sure you want to know? I've heard a lot of rumours flying around the ship since he escaped."

Did he want to know more about the man who more or less had him hostage? He did, but his wolf insisted that it didn't matter. Jesse didn't listen to it, though. "Yeah."

Sophie sighed and leaned on the trolley.

Jesse's heart skipped another beat. What if the doors came loose?

"I heard that he killed hundreds of wolf walkers with his pack. They started off bounty hunting, but after the prisoner took control, they started killing their own kind."

Hundreds? Jesse frowned, feeling nauseous.

"And the Nosferatu put a pretty high price on his head and those of his pack, but so far, they've only managed to capture three of the pack's Betas—oh, and that's another thing: no wolf in his pack is a lower rank than Beta." She shook her head. "A whole pack of Betas gone rogue."

Jesse frowned skeptically. What she was saying sounded familiar. A pack of Betas. He knew that his pack spent a lot of time tracking and hunting a pack of only Betas, but he'd never heard Ross' name, and he couldn't recall the pack's name, either. Knowing Ross had killed hundreds of wolf walkers put him on edge, though—even more than he already was.

"Do you remember the name of the pack?" he asked her.

She pondered for a moment and tapped her chin. "I think...Midnight...or Night something?"

The balcony doors abruptly slid open.

"Hey, what are you two doing out here? There's a curfew!" one of the three Vârcolac guards bellowed.

Sophie flinched and turned to face them. "O-oh, sorry. I just came for some water."

"Taps don't work in your room?" the second guard asked as the three of them stepped inside.

"Not the staff quarters," she answered.

The second guard closed the door.

"Get back to your rooms," the third said.

Sophie nodded, and as she turned around, she ushered Jesse along with her.

Jesse didn't protest. He didn't want to give her or the guards a reason to suspect him, and he was sure that Ross could manage the rest of the task alone. So, he went with the stewardess and navigated the corridors.

"Gosh, those Vârcolac men are so intimidating," Sophie said with a sigh, but she looked flustered.

He didn't want to cross what might be a line and ask if she was attracted to them, so instead, he said, "They've always scared me half to death. Demons who deal with wolf walkers who step out of line—demons are scary enough as it is."

"Oh, I don't know," she said quietly. "Their leader is..." she paused and giggled a little but then looked embarrassed. "Sorry, I don't mean to go all schoolgirl crush."

"It's okay," Jesse said as they approached his room. "I don't think I've actually seen their leader."

"He debriefed all us staff when the prisoner escaped," she said and stopped outside his door. "I think he's married, though," she added with a sigh.

Jesse stood by the handle; he didn't want to risk her opening it and seeing the blood or the dead guard's weapon. "Well, thanks for walking me back," he said.

"No problem. Be careful, okay?"

He nodded. "You, too."

Sophie then turned around and headed down the hallway.

Jesse waited until she was far away enough that she wouldn't look back and see inside the room, but just as he was about to open the door, he hesitated. He was finally free from Ross, and he even had yet another chance to get away—especially now that the body was gone—but all he could think about was: what if Ross needed his help?

He frowned irritably and stared down the corridor, considering whether he should go back or not. He'd learned the number—or at least an estimate—of wolves Ross had killed, but no matter how much he seemed to learn about him, his wolf continued urging him to assist and help that murderer.

Why?

With an irritated huff, Jesse moved away from the door and made his way back towards the hallway he'd left Ross in. His aggravation was quickly accompanied by anxiety, though—of course it was. He wasn't supposed to be out of his room, and for all he knew, Ross could have been caught, and the body would soon be discovered. He had to make sure that wasn't what happened.

He picked up the pace, hoping to see Ross when he turned the corner—

Jesse collided with someone, and this time, it wasn't a harmless stewardess.

"You!" came a familiar, hostile voice.

He stumbled back, and when he looked up and locked sights with the Vârcolac guard who'd interrogated him not long ago, his heart plummeted into his stomach, and his instincts screamed at him to run.

But there was nowhere to go, and before he could even attempt to move an inch, the man grabbed his collar and glared down into his horrified eyes.

"I told you to wait!" he growled.

Jesse shuddered and struggled to find his voice. "I-I—" he stuttered.

"I hope you've enjoyed your time outside," he growled as he tugged Jesse along, "'cause you ain't gonna see anything but the same four walls a very long t—" He cut himself off as he abruptly let go of Jesse and swung around, and then a startled, gurgling grunt and a loud crack silenced him.

Jesse stared in utter horror as the guard's heart throbbed in the hand that had burst out through his back. He froze, his own heart racing frantically, and when the bloody hand released the man's organ, Jesse stumbled back and prepared to shift into his wolf form; however, when the hand yanked free, and the lifeless body hit the floor, Ross wiped his bloody hand on his trousers and stared vacantly him.

His voice was silent once again. Fear, confusion, and revolt ensnared Jesse, and he tried to work out which he wanted to act upon. But the guard who knew his face and suspected him of the crimes he was indeed guilty of was now dead...and the only words that broke free of his lips were, "Th-thank you."