Chapter 6 DRANCO IS THE KING OF THIEVES

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the forest as Dranco pressed on through the dense undergrowth. He had been running for what felt like hours, his muscles burning with exertion and his lungs gasping for breath. But still, he pushed forward, driven by a primal instinct that urged him ever onward.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, Dranco knew it was time to find shelter. He couldn't risk being caught out in the open when the sun rose fully, exposing him to the dangers that lurked in the daylight. With a weary sigh, he slowed his pace and scanned the surrounding area for a suitable place to rest.

Spotting a secluded clearing ahead, Dranco made his way towards it, his footsteps quiet against the forest floor. As he entered the clearing, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. It was the perfect spot to lay low and catch his breath before continuing on his journey.

Settling down against a tree trunk, Dranco let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the events of the previous night. He couldn't shake the memory of Lyla from his thoughts, her image burned into his mind with a clarity that both comforted and tormented him.

From the moment he had laid eyes on her, Dranco had been captivated by Lyla. There was something about her, something he couldn't quite explain, that drew him in like a moth to a flame. His wolf, Ray, had been the first to sense it, a primal instinct that had stirred deep within him at the mere scent of her.

But their encounter had been far from idyllic.

Dranco's blood boiled at the memory of seeing that despicable peasant assaulting Lyla in the barn. The rage had surged through him like a wildfire, threatening to consume him whole. He had wanted nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, to protect Lyla from harm at any cost.

But he had held himself back, forcing himself to remain calm and composed despite the overwhelming urge to unleash his fury. He couldn't afford to scare Lyla, not when she was already so vulnerable. So he had bided his time, waiting for the opportune moment to intervene and rescue her from his clutches.

Lyla. Even her name was a thing of beauty, a melody that echoed in his mind with every beat of his heart. But Dranco knew he couldn't afford to dwell on her any longer. Ray needed him to focus, to push aside his emotions and embrace the willing drive to survive.

With a deep breath, Dranco pushed himself to his feet and stretched his weary muscles. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, a reminder of the physical toll his journey had taken on him. It was time to find food, to replenish his strength and continue on his quest for freedom.

Taking off the coat Lyla gave him with a scowl, he set off into the forest once more. Dranco felt a renewed sense of determination coursing through his veins. He may be on the run, hunted like a common criminal, but he refused to let fear or doubt hold him back. With Lyla's face burned into his memory and Ray's instincts guiding him, Dranco pressed on into the forest, determined to live.

The forest echoed with the sound of Dranco's heavy footsteps as he chased after the bull, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Ray urged him on, pushing him to run faster, to catch their prey before it could escape. But Dranco couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of foreboding that lingered just beneath the surface.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dranco caught up to the bull. With a primal roar, he transformed into Ray, his muscles bulging as he pounced on the unsuspecting animal. With a swift motion, he tore into its neck, ending its life in a single, brutal strike.

But even as he reveled in the glory of the kill, Dranco couldn't shake the nagging voice of doubt in his mind. "Always seeking glory, aren't you?"

Ray's voice taunted from within his head. "Can't do anything without wanting to be glorified."

Dranco shook his head, trying to silence the voice of his wolf as he surveyed his surroundings. That's when he noticed them – a pack of other werewolves, strange and disfigured, with scars marring their bodies and faces. They snarled and bared their teeth, their eyes filled with malice as they surrounded him.

Ray, sensing the danger, retreated into the depths of Dranco's mind, leaving him alone and vulnerable in his human form. Dranco cursed under his breath, wondering why his wolf always seemed to abandon him at the worst possible times.

The leader of the rogue pack, a massive brown wolf with scars crisscrossing his fur, stepped forward, his eyes filled with menace. "You dare trespass in our territory and steal our prize?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"This may be your territory but that bull sure isn't your prize. Buzz off somewhere else before we have a problem." He said, standing tall.

The other pack wasn't having it as they stepped in closer.

"What nerve you have!"

Dranco straightened his shoulders, refusing to show any sign of fear. "I worked tirelessly for that bull," he retorted defiantly. "If you want it, you'll have to bring a worthy payment. Even though I doubt you all can afford me."

The leader's lips curled back in a snarl as he lunged forward, slamming Dranco against a nearby tree with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. "You dare to stand against us?" he roared, his hot breath washing over Dranco's face.

Despite the pain coursing through his body, Dranco refused to back down. "I will not surrender to you or anyone else," he spat, his voice dripping with defiance. "If you want a fight, you've got one."

With a feral roar, the leader of the rogue pack launched himself at Dranco, his claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. Dranco fought back with everything he had, using his own claws to fend off his attackers and protect himself from harm. Two of the wolves lurched at him, snarling and pouncing but he rolled away on the ground, grabbing a handful of sand and grass. As one came closer, he threw the sand into his eyes, grabbed him by the fur and threw him into the arms of others, making them fall.

As the battle raged on, Dranco realized that he was outnumbered and outmatched. The rogue wolves fought with a ferocity that bordered on madness, their eyes filled with a primal hunger for blood. That's what they are known for. Fighting without mercy.

Desperation clawed at Dranco's chest as he fought to hold his own against the onslaught. Ray's mocking laughter echoed in his mind, taunting him with his own weakness and inadequacy. But Dranco refused to give up. With a surge of adrenaline, he pushed himself to his limits, using every ounce of strength and skill at his disposal to turn the fight in his favour.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dranco emerged victorious. The leader of the rogue pack lay at his feet, his throat torn open by Dranco's claws.

As the remaining members of the pack scattered into the depths of the forest, Dranco sank to his knees, exhausted and battered but triumphant. Ray's laughter echoed in his mind, but this time, it was tinged with a grudging respect.

"Looks like you're not too bad afterall." Dranco grunted in both tiredness and anger.

As the adrenaline began to fade and the pain of his wounds set in, Dranco knew that he had survived yet another trial by fire. But when he looked up, they were approaching him again, this time they were more in number. As he got ready for another round of war, he was surprised to see them stop at about five feet distance and raised their arms.

"Hail the most worthy of us!" One of them cried.

"The one promised to us!" The others chorused.

Confusion set in and Dranco could only watch for what seemed to be a long time before they surrounded him, marched to a chant and then bowed in respect. Before he could speak, one of them rose, their eyes locking.

"Welcome to the Omicrons Island, Your Majesty. We have long awaited your arrival."