Present day...

Barren of life, the clearing nestled under a thick mantle of winter. The first snows had covered every inch of the forest with a carpet of white. Caught up by the wind and thrust violently between the trees, much of it had turned a dingy grey.

Tinged with salt, the full fury of winter whipped in from the sea, engaging the thin, bare branches in a frantic dance. The long, constantly shifting shadows rolled across the forest floor, like grey waves on a stormy sea.

Drifts gathered against trees and hollow logs alike, creating large, icy barricades that hid the game trails and camouflaged any recognisable landmarks.

"Get a bloody move on! We haven't got all day!"

The two men stomping through the undergrowth paid the bitter wind no mind. The older of the pair led the way; dressed head to toe in black, - barely a silhouette in the poor light. Keeping to the trails where the snow lay thinnest, and skirting around the low-slung branches and tangled vegetation; he was careful to avoid leaving too much evidence of his passage behind him, his eyes constantly on the move.

He needn't have bothered. His companion - a tall gangly youth whose red rimmed eyes and runny nose gave the impression he was constantly on the verge of tears - trudged miserably behind him, his leather jacket suggesting he would have been more at home in the back alleys of a big city than deep in the wilderness. He stood out against the white backdrop like a sore thumb. Clinging to one end of a large body bag; a cacophony of cracks, thuds and crunches followed his every step.

Every time another branch gave way with a violent snap, the leader's jaw clenched; his white knuckles suggesting that only a superb level of self-control was helping him resist the urge to turn around and sock his companion in the jaw.

All around them, the usually feather-soft ferns stuck out in all directions, ramrod straight, and coated with ice - brittle shards that snapped with the slightest touch. Like glass they shattered as the intruders brushed by.

Reaching the very edge of the clearing the leader gave the signal to halt, and they dropped the bag near a patch of brambles with a soft thud.

The younger of the two eyed the tapestry of thorns with as much suspicion as a child would regard a needle in a doctors office. "I don't like it."

"So you keep saying," the leader muttered. "Now grow a pair and help me."

The youth unzipped the bag and took a glance inside. He blanched. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"You leave your stomach contents all over this clearing and I'll leave my fist all over your face," the ruffian warned. "No evidence, remember?"

"It looks like it's been gnawed on by an animal or a... or a..."

"Wolf?" the leader suggested. "Yeah, that's kind of the point." He cast a critical eye over the remains. "It's not as bad as the last one." They hauled it out onto the floor in a tangle of limbs. "A beach job. We had to pin it under a rock so the tide didn't take it."

The youth cringed as they dragged it into position, touching as little of the corpse as possible. "It's looking at me, Marco."

"It's dead! It's not looking at anything." Marco gave the skinny ruffian a long and steady look. "And what did I say about names, huh?"

"Don't use them?"

"Right." Marco grabbed a handful of branches and dragged them over the corpse, covering much of the exposed skin with rotting wood. "If the name Marco tumbles from your lips in the wrong company, I promise you the name Fletch will be the first to tumble from mine."

Fletch frowned, staring at the half-buried torso. "I thought they wanted him found."

"Yes," Marco confirmed through gritted teeth. "By the right people at the right time. We don't want some random tripping over it until they're ready. We're supposed to be professionals."

The youth cast his eyes about the clearing, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I can't feel my fingers."

"My heart bleeds." Marco chucked a bottle at his less-than-helpful companion. "Here, make yourself useful. Spray the trees to the east."

"What is it?" The distinct sound of sloshing liquid echoed around the otherwise silent clearing, followed by the low hiss of a trigger being squeezed and the loud exclamation of a man that had just sprayed himself in the face. A pungent aroma settled around the corpse, nowhere near the trees it was supposed to cover.

Marco took a deep breath and tried to maintain some element of his ever-decreasing patience. "On the trees," he reiterated slowly.

Fletch let out a pitiful whimper that left Marco seriously contemplating cutting his losses and leaving a second body somewhere within the hibernating trees.

"It's in my eyes."

"Then be more careful next time." He glanced down at the remains. "Sorry," he offered the sightless eyes. "It usually goes a lot smoother than this. But finding even vaguely competent help isn't as easy as it used to be."

"What is it?" The boy rubbed frantically at his face, squinting at the bottle as though he could discover all its secrets through sight alone.

"Expensive," Marco muttered. "So quit messing about."

"Am I going to die?"

"Do you want to?"

Fletch shook his head frantically.

"Then get on with it." Marco removed a small paper packet from his pocket and carefully extracted a handful of hairs. These he sprinkled liberally on and around the body.

"What I don't understand - " the young ruffian continued to chunter as he finally began spraying the trees with the contents of the bottle. " - is why we need to go to all this trouble? Why not just dump it and run like usual?"

"Because that's not what you're being paid for." Marco began rearranging the corpse's limbs. "Neither," he continued as the youth opened his mouth again. "Are you being paid to ask too many questions. You do the job, and you get paid. It's as simple as that."

"And none of this concerns you? I mean..." Fletch edged closer to Marco."What are we doing dumping it all the way out here?"

"The only thing that concerns me is not getting this done before someone turns up," Marco snapped. "And the only thing that should concern you is making sure you're not the next one in the bag." He leaned back to admire his handiwork. "There, what do you think?"

The youth swallowed thickly, flicking his eyes over the corpse so swiftly it was unlikely he'd had time to admire the finer details. "Very artistic."

"They specifically wanted a statement."

"You've achieved that, alright. Can we go now?"

Marco sighed. "You really are quite pathetic, aren't you? Go on, take the bag back to the van. I'll be with you in a minute. Try to keep to the same trail."

The youth did not need to be told twice. Never had a man been more eager to flee a scene, and he swiftly disappeared into the undergrowth, the sounds of his retreat echoing nearly as loudly going out as they had coming in.

"Not sure he's going to last long in this business," Marco murmured. He crouched down and stared intently at the corpse. "It really is your own fault, you know?" he told it conversationally. "You should have said yes when you had the chance."

He glanced back towards the small trail of devastation his companion had left behind, and sighed. Reaching into one of his many pockets, he drew out a small red disc. "Still... even the dead serve their purpose, I suppose." He placed it carefully behind the body's left ear, then stood up and took one last look around. "It's been fun," he murmured. "Rot in peace or... whatever."

In the quiet that followed, the wind obligingly died down allowing the first soft flakes of snow to drift and settle lightly on the exposed skin of the already marble-white corpse. By the time the lengthening shadows announced the onset of night, there remained little to no evidence that death had stalked through the trees.

After weeks of sporadic snowfall, the rains finally returned, and the countryside hovered in a mid-winter limbo; undecided from one day to the next whether to freeze the ground solid, or mimic the mud-drenched wetlands beyond the treeline.

When the first howls echoed through the forest, alerting the pack to the unpleasant smell of decay, the Darkmoon Alpha was already heading towards the clearing. He followed, not the scent nor the silent communication from the pack-link, but a set of coordinates sent anonymously to Asher's personal phone. His Beta followed close behind.

A bear of a man, Theo's wolf almost matched his Alpha's in size. He'd served as Beta for many years under Alpha Avery and shown such a fierce loyalty that his son had asked him to remain at his side when he took over the Darkmoon pack. He was unaware how Asher knew just where to go, but asked no questions. At nearly thirty years Asher's senior, it had taken some time before the two had learned to read each other seamlessly; these days, the trust between them was absolute.

In contrast, the detective that arrived on the scene barely five minutes later was tall and wiry, his face bearing the jaded look of a man who had learned that trust came with a harsh price. He entered the clearing as though he belonged there, accompanied by a member of the eastern patrol.

The wolf lowered its head towards the Alpha in a gesture of respect, then padded back into the forest on silent paws, an involuntary sneeze the only acknowledgement of the steadily rotting corpse at his Alpha's feet.

Despite not being a member of the Darkmoon pack, in the last three years, Detective Arthur Hollister had made an extraordinary number of visits to Asher's territory. So many, in fact, that he knew more than half of the nearly two hundred pack members by name and nearly all by sight.

This was usually, Asher was forced to admit, because whatever mischief arose within the region somehow always tracked back to Asher's pack... or the Alpha himself... or any pack Asher or his lieutenants may or may not have visited recently.

Arthur greeted the Alpha with serious eyes, lowering his gaze to the corpse half-buried in the mud. "Another one?"

"Another one," Asher confirmed grimly.

"Human?"

"Looks like it."

The detective stared down at the tangled limbs. "Damn. I'd hoped it was a prank call."

Asher raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He knew most people were more inclined to volunteer further information if given enough room to think out loud. Sure enough:

"Thirty minutes ago, the station received an anonymous phone call, claiming to be a man out for a walk with his dog. He had a tip for the local plod about a body in the woods." The detective offered Asher a look of supreme irritation. "Guess whose desk it landed on?"

Asher's lip twitched. "Better you than anyone else. Our tip arrived about five minutes before yours."

The detective glanced over at the giant at the far side of the clearing. "Theo." He nodded stiffly. "Still auditioning for a role as a Viking, I see."

"Arthur." The Beta paused his examination of a nearby tree to look him up and down. "The film noir look suits you. Very... human."

"Yeah, well, I prefer to keep my wolf tucked away until I need him. Yours appears to be taking over."

Theo's drum roll of a growl rose from deep within his barrel of a chest, and Arthur bared his teeth, an answering challenge clear in his eyes.

"Enough bickering, both of you," Asher snapped. The waves of testosteronebouncing around the clearing made his head ache. "We've got more important things to deal with."

Embarrassment flickered in Theo's eyes. "Sorry, Alpha."

Arthur tilted his head obligingly in Asher's direction, an only mildly apologetic look upon his face. "So, how did they get past your patrols?"

Good question, Zephyr griped, his urge to sit on both of them taking longer to supress.

"We're not sure... yet."

Arthur pulled a pair of medical gloves out of his pocket and crouched by the body for a closer examination. As he worked, he glanced occasionally at the Alpha, his tone low and even.

"Multiple wounds, no indication of the weapon used, none fatal... looks like there's a few broken bones..." He prodded at the abdomen, a swirl of purple bruises, so dark they were almost black standing out starkly against the marble white skin. "Don't even want to speculate what caused that. Left side of his head is slightly swollen and there's a wound to his scalp. His jaw's dislocated, but I can't see any other bruising to his face oddly enough."

"Same injuries as the other one," Theo called over.

Arthur ignored him. "Some sort of torture?"

"Some sort of something," Asher muttered. "If it's like the last one, all these - " he gestured vaguely at the litany of wounds" - were inflicted close to the point of death. Not that we found a cause of death on the last one."

Arthur searched the ground. "He must have bled out a fair bit, but I see no sign of any blood round here."

Asher grunted. "He was moved."

"Evidently."

"Did the blow to the head kill him?"

"No. The wound is at least 48 hours old, maybe older. His wrists were bound, at one point... ankles too."

Also like the last one. Zephyr said. I don't recognise him.

Neither do I. So, not a local, thank the Goddess. The hint of red caught both their eyes at the same time. Not dull like the dried, aged blood, but primary, bright and hiding under a layer of hair.

Zephyr's silent snarl sent goosebumps running the length of Asher's arms. Is it him?

A glance towards the detective confirmed he was preoccupied examining ligature marks around the ankles. Leaning in as though for a better view of the man's features, his hand deftly slid a red poker chip out from under the matted head. Without looking, he slipped it into his pocket, a deeply troubled look on his face, his fingers running over a familiar symbol carved into the thick plastic.

"I really hope you're not doing what I think you're doing."

Asher etched a look of practiced innocence onto his face. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Tampering with my crime scene." Arthur's sharp eyes stared straight at him, a speculative look on his worn, stubble etched face.

"No tampering," Asher murmured, "Just investigating."

Arthur grunted, his eyes flicking to Asher's pocket. "Okay, I'll play blind, for now. But you know I'm going to want an explanation at some point."

Asher's lip twitched. I have to work on my sleight of hand. He stared back down at the corpse for a moment, then offered up a slow nod. "At some point," he agreed.

Arthur gave up and released a huge sigh. "What a mess." He squinted over at the Beta. "What's he doing?"

The Beta was circling the clearing, nose twitching wildly, muttered to himself as he walked back and forth between the trees. He paused every now and then to sniff the air, then began his mumbling once more; a low rumble Asher knew no one was meant to hear but himself.

"You doing alright over there, Teddy?"

"How did they get into the territory without being seen?" Theo growled. "Why didn't we find it straight away?" - he glared at the corpse as though it should be able to answer all his questions - "and what the hell is that smell?"

Asher frowned and picked his way over to the irate Beta. "What smell?"

He sniffed at the exposed branches, his nose detecting the faintest whiff of a pungent perfume, faded over time and now muffled by the natural smells of the forest. It smelt vaguely familiar, but he couldn't identify why.

"Good question," Asher muttered, unconsciously mimicking his wolf. "I have no idea, but I'm guessing it hid our body for at least a couple of weeks."

"Three," Arthur disputed, rolling the body and peering at the ground beneath. "In fact, if I had to take a guess I'd say he was deposited somewhere around the Solstice."

"How can you possibly -"

"Well, for a start, our unfortunate friend here was frozen before he was dumped. Which'll make pinning down an accurate time of death heaps of fun." He pointed to tiny white flowers dotting the clearing. "But also, those. Tulipa biflora, they're everywhere. I spotted them coming up just before new year. There's no sign of under the body."

Asher glanced around. He hadn't even noticed the delicate little flowers.

Theo tilted his head with a smirk. "Remind me to introduce you to our pack doctor."

"Why?" Arthur asked warily.

"I have a feeling you two will get on quite well."

"Can we focus, please?" Asher wrinkled his nose. "I think this is some sort of scent disrupter, similar to how they confuse the hounds on a hunt. It must be how they diverted our patrols."

Theo's smirk shifted to a snarl. "They're brazen, I'll give them that."

"Not that brazen," Arthur disagreed. They deliberately dumped it when the Alpha wasn't around..." The speculative look returned to his eyes. "The last body dropped when you were away as well, didn't it?"

"Yes." The body on the beach, a cliff jumper as far as the humans were concerned. Exactly how Arthur had managed to get that one ruled as a suicide, Asher still hadn't figured out, but it had diverted any further unwanted investigation.

Not sure we'll be so lucky this time. "Two bodies in five months," Arthur muttered, more to himself than either of the wolves.

"Three," Teddy reminded him over the link.

"If you mean the one we haven't told Arthur about, let's keep it that way."

The first victim, a human like the others, was killed during a rogue attack earlier in the year when Asher had been busy investigating an attack on his brother's pack in Blackridge. He hadn't thought much beyond the usual damage control at the time, but three deaths so close together and all within his borders.

More than a coincidence, Zephyr growled.

"Maybe you should consider refraining from leaving the pack for a while," The detective mused. "They seem to wait until you're absent."

"I'll take it into consideration."

Theo raised his eyebrows and spoke again over the link: "I hate to say it, but he's got a point, Alpha."

Asher resisted the urge to bite them both. Arthur and Theo were far more alike in their thinking than either of them cared to admit, but Goddess forbid either of them ever allow the other the satisfaction of knowing they agreed on something.

"Can't you... forget you saw it?" he asked Arthur. He already knew the answer, but it was worth a shot.

"After it was reported to the station?" Arthur snorted. "No. You're lucky they sent me out alone. By rights I should be calling in a team right about now."

"Maybe that's why they did it," Theo spoke up. "The tip off, I mean. We found the last one ourselves and kept it reasonably contained - "

"Don't remind me," Arthur growled.

"Maybe they know our friendly neighbourhood lawman is a stickler for the rules?" Theo flashed the detective a savage grin. "I suppose it's too much to ask if he can work his magic a second time?"

"You don't think two suicides this close together and within a mile of one another will raise just as much attention?" Arthur snapped. "Besides, exactly how would you like me to explain this one away? Run in with a stray dog? Fell from the sky, perhaps?"

"You can't," Asher said bluntly, casting his Beta a warning look. "And you shouldn't have to."

"But, you're going to ask me all the same."

"Only that you find a way for our pack doctor to handle the autopsy."

Arthur's incredulity was clear. He opened his mouth to argue, but Theo interrupted before he could find the words to respond.

"You think explaining his death will be hard now?" The Beta snorted. "Wait until your coroner sees all the biological anomalies. If it's anything like the last one, the insides should be even more interesting than the outside."

Arthur groaned. "Fine. It's Friday anyway. I'll delay my report over the weekend." He glared at them both. "But that's all. And I suggest you spend the next 48 hours thinking up a good explanation for all this," he waved his hand expressively at the body. "Because I have no idea where to start."

"Meanwhile," Asher's fingers unconsciously rolled the chip round and round in his pocket, "I'd recommend reaching out to Bluecreek and Coldcrest, I want to know if they're attacking us personally."  "or if this is a part of a larger, widespread plan."

Arthur nodded. "Do you think they'll cooperate?"

"They'd better," Theo mumbled.

"If they give you any reason to suspect they're not telling you everything, give me a call, I can't see Coldcrest giving you much trouble, Edmund is a sensible Alpha. Bluecreek though..."

The Darkmoon wolves exchanged a loaded glance, and Arthur visibly cringed. "I'll bear that in mind, thanks."

"Alpha?" The voice rose from the ever-present murmur of the pack link. "You have a visitor. A human... She says you're expecting her?"

Asher's eyes widened. Damn it, I'm late.

"Make her comfortable in the study," he ordered. "I'll be there soon."

Theo's eyebrows shot upwards. "A human?"

"Long story. Don't ask."

"I've got to go," he continued out loud, shooting both the wolves a warning look. "Do you think you can refrain from killing each other long enough to wrap up here?"

"Go?" Arthur stood up, his ever-present frown deepening. "This murder isn't exciting enough for you?"

Theo snarled. Or rather, his wolf rose up to voice his displeasure at the impertinence. Arthur in turn, curled his lip, eyes flickering.

Apparently not. He felt Zephyr reach out to calm Theo's wolf. "I'm not his Alpha, Teddy, just his friend."

"You're still an Alpha," Teddy grumbled. "And that demands a certain level of respect in my book."

Asher ignored Zephyr's rumble of approval, reluctantly allowing a hint of his Alpha voice to show through. "Track the trail to the border. Find out the type of vehicle they used."

Theo scanned the trees. "Will do." He offered the detective a final glare, then disappeared into the foliage to shift. Tracking would be far easier on four paws.

Arthur ignored the farewell, heading towards the area Theo had just vacated, his nose already seeking out the foreign scent.

Asher offered him an apologetic smile. "Believe me, I wouldn't leave unless it was of vital importance. I'll send a patrol to move the body."

"Good luck," Arthur muttered. "I'll assume it's the difference between life or death."

She may well be, Asher agreed silently as he turned towards the village. If his plan worked, she may very well be.