9. There's something wrong with that goat

"You want a what?"

The special ops team mostly consisted of rogues.

Most of them were busy guarding an idiot from the human government, whose payment Ethan still hadn't decided, and only two of them were here at the Pack.

Now they both sat in his office, staring at him like he'd gone mad.

Admittedly, the demand was a little strange.

"A goat," Ethan repeated, resting his elbows on the table "Black, but white near the hoofs. It should be a male goat, two years old, and not a father to any younger goats yet."

Rook cleared his throat "With all due respect, Alpha, are you drunk?"

"I'm very sober, unfortunately." Ethan leaned back in his chair "Can you do it or not?"

"That depends," Dylan grinned "What's your budget?"

"Just get me the goat."

"Why do you want that specific goat?" Rook looked between them incredulously

"I need to do a ritual to call a witch to ask her a question."

"If you don't want to tell us, just say so." Rook heaved a sigh

"Hey, man wants his privacy." Dylan nudged him "We should respect that."

Ethan had spent last night looking up every book or documentary he could find to get answers, coffee had stopped affecting his system, and he was too far gone to care about what anyone thought of him right now.

"How long would it take?" He asked

"A day." Dylan said at the same time Rook said "A week."

"I like those odds," Ethan nodded at the younger rogue "Dylan, you're incharge. Get me that goat by tomorrow."

"You wish is my humble command." Dylan rose with sinuous grace

Rook followed him to the door, muttering questions under his breath.

Ethan rubbed his eyes. He could feel his body's need for sleep, but his mind refused to shut down.

He pulled the journal from the pocket of his jacket, hoping something will soothe his mind enough to let him fall asleep.

He'd barely started skimming through the pages when his phone rang. He picked it up without looking at the ID, eyes still on the journal.

"Yes?"

"Ethan!"

He was so surprised, he shut the journal on instinct "Luna Supreme?"

"Oh don't be so surprised," She said "I called to check if you got your invite."

Yes, the invite to the meeting for land distribution meeting. It sat in upstairs in his bedroom, dated two days from now.

"I received it last evening, Luna." Ethan put the journal back in his suit jacket, sensing this conversation would take long

"Come on, just call me Elise," He could almost hear her rolling her eyes

The new Alpha Supreme had taken charge only recently, and while he was reserved about most things, Luna Supreme was absolutely candid.

"That's not the point of this call, I assume," Ethan said

"Can't I just call to check up on you? Isn't it my duty as Luna Supreme to make sure everyone is doing well?"

Ethan waited.

There was a much exaggerated sigh on the other end of the call.

"Fine. I also called to make sure you won't find a loophole to skip this meeting," Elise said

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ethan closed a file about protocols that sat open at a side of his desk

"Good. There's someone I want you to meet."

'Dear moon', Ethan pressed his eyes close, 'don't be—

"She's a very close friend of mine." Too late "I think you two would find each other interesting."

"I'm sure your friend would want someone with a little more time at his hand." Ethan said "I'm not an ideal candidate."

"Oh come on! You get time by making time!"

"I'm not even twenty yet. Let a teen live, will you?" The irony of his words was not lost on him

"But you will be in a few months."

"How do you know that?" his brows went up

"I have my sources," Luna Supreme said smugly, then more sincerely "Honestly though, just come. Those meetings usually come with follow up parties. It's not that bad."

"Only if you don't try to set me up." Ethan said

"You've got a deal. I'll see you then?"

"Of course, Luna."

She hung up, and Ethan placed his phone aside. There went his chance to avoid going.

He didn't mind that much, but his conversation with Rannoch was still fresh in his memory.

'You're dying.'

The words sent a panicky feeling through his insides, settling like a weight in his stomach.

Ethan had enough experience with death to cast those feelings away.

He wasn't going to die.

Not just yet.

…

With a goat tucked under his arm, Ethan headed for a quiet place in the forest.

The mammal bleated in rhythm. First quietly, then quietly again, and third time so loudly it was a miracle no one had arrested him for attempted murder yet.

He'd told Dylan and Rook to meet him near the walls when they'd gotten the goat, and to tell no one about this interaction.

Ethan would have to give them a raise for finding this goat even quicker than they'd decided on.

It was late in the night, and breath clouded in front of his face, a satchel of gold chimed in his coat pocket as he walked.

The goat chewed at his sleeve.

"Hey," Ethan held it away "This is my favorite coat. We have an impression to make on a witch."

The goat bleated again, almost a complaint, with no regard towards the fact that he was a predator.

Or maybe his Lycans genes were already so dead it just didn't care.

"Don't chew on my coat, and I just might keep you." He said to the goat

When he tucked it under his arm again, the goat didn't chew. Why couldn't people understand boundaries so easily?

Deep in the forest, he tied the goat to a tree and pulled an injection from his coat.

"This isn't going to hurt much," Ethan plucked the cap off the needle "So don't scream bloody murder."

Surprisingly, the goat listened, chewing on the leaves of a nearby bush while blood filled the syringe.

Ethan patted its head, and then got to work.

He'd cleaned the forest bed in this place two hours ago, now he broke off a thick branch from a tree and drew the pattern on the earth as Rannoch's instructions said.

Placing the satchel of gold in the center, he took the syringe and let the goat's blood drip down on the bag.

Then he stepped back, and fixed his coat, waiting.

Ethan recalled all the questions he had, prepared himself for the answers.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

"Huh," He inspected the markings, weighted the gold, checked if the blood actually covered the top of the bag

It was all exactly like it was in Rannoch's instructions. Either Rannoch had lied to him or—

Ethan looked back at the goat, still chewing on leaves.

…

"But it's the right goat!"

Once again, Rook and Dylan sat in his office, discussing something entirely out of the ordinary.

The new addition was currently chewing on Rook's sleeve.

Dylan was pacing, muttering curses "It checks everything you said!"

"Clearly, it doesn't." Ethan said pointedly "The ritual didn't work. Something's wrong with that goat."

"Clearly," Rook tried to shake the mammal off

"A male goat, not a father to any other goats and two years old—" Dylan stopped, then cursed, digging into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper "In two days."

Ethan took the note from his hands, and sure enough, the birthday of the goat in question was two days from now.

The day of the meeting.

Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples. Then he pulled out a bottle and three glasses from a cupboard.

All three men drank in silence.

"Alright," Ethan said finally "Keep the goat. When I return from the meeting, we'll continue this."

"Way ahead of you," Dylan poured himself another shot

"Wait, you really have to do some ritual?" Rook raised his brows

Ethan nodded.

"What for?"

Both of the former rogues looked at him expectedly.

"I need some answers," Ethan said, in a tone that suggested that was all he'd say

"Well, good night then," Dylan scooped the goat in his arms and sauntered out of the office, Rook followed

The door closed behind them with a whisper, and Ethan leaned back in his chair.

Something in his chest ached, making it difficult to breathe. The back of his neck and shoulders pulsed.

Ethan pressed a hand to his chest, trying to push out the air stuck in his lungs.

Maybe he'd need more than just answers from the witch.