Chapter 8 C8

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.

            
            

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