#CHAPTER 107: Riot

Zane POV I’m no coal mining expert, but it was clear even as we set down that something was very wrong. A thick, dark plume of smoke was coming from one of the many holes in the ground, and I couldn’t help but notice the dozens of dead or dying trees all around us. When the door swung open, I smelled death and fear—not the thrilling smells of the hunt, but the sour, heavy odors of long-term sorrow and festering loss. By the time my work boots hit the greasy soil, I knew this was going to be very bad. I got my phone out. “Travis, send a dozen betas. Now. Crowd control.” I hung up before he could answer. “Alpha Zane, right?” asked a man to my right. Danielle moved between us, but I could still see the human male clearly. He was skinny to the point of emaciation, and I could hear the wheeze in his lungs. As if in punctuation, he coughed. “Come here, please,” I asked, looking at Danielle not to interfere. The man came up to me. I could tell he was deathly ill, and my stomac