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My head jerks back up, something feathery and wet hitting my
cheek. I brush away the fat snowflake and blink the sleep from my
eyes.
It's had to of been at least an hour by now. Nathan's a persistent
bastard but he won't hold out for this long, surely.
A sharp pain is shooting through my tailbone from sitting on the
hard tree branch for so long, and the rest of my body is
excruciatingly stiff. I grimace as I throw a leg over and sit up
further to begin the climb down. It doesn't matter how ceased up
or sore I am, anything out here is better than that cell.
My claws scrape into the bark as I slide down the trunk of the tree,
groaning deeply as soon as my feet hit the ground and gravity
becomes more of a reality. Giant flakes of snow float down around
me, landing in my hair and sticking to my clothes as I stretch. The
atmosphere has darkened, the sky turning a dreary grey.
Maybe he went back to his daddy with his tail tucked.
No more than a whole five seconds later and the loud snap of a
stick snapping comes from the direction I had.
Of course. Daddy would be mad if he went back. And we can't have
that, can we?
He won't leave me alone. Nathan may be a pompous ass, but he's
a persistent one.
It becomes clear to me what my options are. I either stay here and
get thrown back in that hellhole, or I leave. The only way I escape
is if I start walking now and never turn back.
But there's nowhere to go. I'm oblivious to the world outside of
Visari. I know that there's other tribal packs: Oarca, Bastieel, and
Talonia. But I don't know their customs. I don't know their people
or their land or their way of life. Everything is foreign beyond here.
Another sound, like a body pushing through vegetation, is closer
now. Panic starts to set in, the tingling in my limbs urging them to
take action.
He's getting closer. Quickly, undeniably, and terrifyingly closer.
I run. I run for all my miserable, wasted life is worth without any
fucking idea where I'm going to. I just run.
Twigs snap at my ankles and my bare feet are yet again cold and
pained on the frozen ground. But I'm not stopping. I don't care if I
leave a trail of blood in my path.
It irks me that I can't shift, since four legs are infinitely faster than
two. But shifting now would be like sounding the alarm for him to
come find me. For whatever reason, a werewolf can sense
whenever another one shifts nearby. It's a strange feeling, like a
presence over your shoulder except the presence comes from the
shifting wolf's location.
The next thing I know my shoulder is being plowed into the hard
ground as a giant furry mass hits me from behind. I can feel the
skin being scraped off my arm and elbow and the bloody wounds
being filled with dirt and snow.
My jaw is slammed shut in the process. My teeth clamp down
involuntarily on my tongue, sending tears to my eyes.
I don't even register the pain. Instead my attention goes to what's
standing over me and pinning my back against the ground. And it's
not Nathan's light grey wolf, either.
It's that giant, nightmarish monster I saw right before my pack
was taken over. The one that drug me into the woods a paradox of
gentle canines at the back of my neck. I never got a good look
then, only a few glimpses through bleary, barely conscious eyes.
Now I have a good look, gaping up at it as it looks back with
searing eyes.
I'm unable to move, staring petrified. I jerk when he moves his
muzzle closer to my cheek. He smells it first, and then nudges the
loose tendrils of hair aside with his cold nose.
A drop of blood slides down my face, leaving a warm, sticky trail all
the way to my jaw. I realize there's a numb burning there, like a
claw scratched into my cheek. I must have done it during the fall
and not even noticed.
He starts to lick the wound, his soft canine tongue acting as a
painkiller. The blood is wiped away and the burn starts to die out.
Once satisfied, he starts sniffing elsewhere, as of searching for my
wounds. He makes a low growling sound when his nose stops just
above my collarbone.
Right overtop of the two red stains; the stains made my Nathan's
broken fingers.
Just as suddenly as he'd flatten me to the ground, he hurriedly
steps off. For a split second, I think there's a flash of red in his
eyes. But when I look again, it's gone.
As he turns away from me, I take the opportunity to stand up.
His wolf is a sight to cower at. Supernatural wolves by default are
abnormally large, but there's something more looming about this
one that I just can't explain. Even in a standing position he still
casts a shadow over me.
When he turns back to me there's a subtle flash of light within his
irises, followed by a quiet rumbling in his chest. Then he jerks his
head in the direction of the village, staring me down with a
threatening gaze. It's like he's accusing me of something.
He's angry with me. But why?
Then I realize. This is technically his pack now. And now he's
caught me running away from it.
I wring my hands together nervously in front of my stomach. My
heart is beating so loud that there's no way he can't hear it. But
it's not from the adrenaline of the chase this time; it's from fear.
What will he do to me?
All the warnings I've heard whispered, all the craze, all the terror
everyone has had for this wolf all pops into my head. What will he
do? Judging by the stories, the possibilities are endless.
I take timid step backward.
A horrifyingly enraged snarl rips from his lips as soon as I do.
This radiance of power and aggression that he gives off, it's so
strong that I can hardly control myself.
For the first time in my life, my instincts are telling me to cower. I
just want to lay down and cover my head with my hands and hope
for the best.
Yet I don't. I stay standing, staring at the ground in front of me and
fighting the urge to close my eyes. When he starts to move
towards me, with his enormous paws crunching the leaves
beneath them, I tense up even further.
He circles me, walking around until I can feel his presence behind
me. Then his nose prods me between my shoulders blades,
forcefully shoving me forward.