Chapter 2 EPISODE 2

"It's been two weeks since Nicky died, and he's still locked in his office. He talks to no one and keeps drinking himself silly," Talia told Lorna. Lorna was the oldest werewolf in the pack, known for her vast experience and wisdom. Despite her age, she still looked young and strong and was often consulted on almost everything due to her extensive knowledge.

"He's mourning, Talia. Give him time," Lorna replied gently.

"It's been too long, Lorna. I'm worried about him," Talia said, her voice filled with concern.

"Alright, my dear girl, I will go and see if I can talk to him for you," Lorna offered.

"Thank you, Lorna. I don't know what we would do without you," Talia said, gratitude evident in her tone.

"Don't worry, my little girl. I will always be there for you," Lorna reassured her, giving her a warm smile.

The royal castle was built on a plateau at the center of the Forest of Seriva, its thick walls stretching around the edges of the plateau. The walls were so sturdy that one could ride a bike along them. The gate was always guarded by the fiercest of the werewolf guards, who exchanged duties day and night. In short, this was an impenetrable fortress. Inside, there was also an assembly point for the warrior wolves. The servants' quarters were on the ground floor at the back of the castle, while the royals lived on the two floors above.

The werewolf territory stretched across the forested undulating plains, reaching the outskirts of Seriva town. The territory was divided into four parts: the bird-shifting lot on the left near the town, the other animal-shifting lot on the right, the royal castle for the royals, and the warrior wolves' section led by Roman, their commander. Warrior wolves could shift into both birds and other animals. The royals, an upgraded version of warrior wolves, were the most lethal of all werewolves. They could shift into anything they wished, regenerate quickly, and teleport. Killing a royal was almost considered impossible, though some hunters had occasionally managed to get lucky. All wolves could mind link and communicate telepathically. Since the outbreak of the man-werewolf war, the werewolves had been forced deeper into the dark Forest of Seriva.

Sir Redmond was the leader of the group that called itself the Werewolf Hunters. His parents had been killed by a rebel werewolf group when he was eighteen years old. He had barely escaped unscathed. Ever since, he had declared vengeance on the werewolf community. Whenever he came across a werewolf family, he would kill them all, including the children. He was feared by both humans and werewolves. It was rumored that by the time he was twenty, he had already killed more than fifty stray werewolves, a figure no other hunter had reached in their lifetimes. With his sense of authority, the man was like a demigod. No one ever knew where he lived, making him practically a ghost. Though he organized the hunters, he always hunted alone. He believed that hunting with others slowed him down and increased the risk of someone making a grave mistake.

Sitting by a sycamore tree in River Seriva, Sir Redmond sharpened his tools of the trade: a short, light, but lethal war axe, a few poisoned daggers, and a loaded dart gun. He had received news that four bodies, believed to be his hunters, had been retrieved from the Forest of Seriva. It was suspected that they had been killed by a group of werewolves. Sir Redmond had warned his hunters not to pursue victims into the forest, as it was a werewolf stronghold, and no hunter had ever returned alive. The news did not affect him but only hardened his resolve to attack his opponents in their own home when the chance arose. That chance had come now. The werewolves were not expecting a visit from the hunters, especially after the recent killings. The only thing Sir Redmond did not know, and one that would probably mislead him, was that a royal had died during the fight. Apart from being a royal, the dead werewolf was Ryan's little sister.

Ryan shifted into his super werewolf form, preparing himself for an anger-lessening run. This was his usual method of coping when stressed or sad. Running through the forest helped him stretch his muscles and reduce accumulated anger. Ever since his mother's death, he had witnessed the effects of this anger, which often drove him mad and increased his aggression levels, making him capable of the worst kind of violence.

He added more pressure on his hind paws and leveled his body as if poised for an attack. With a mind-numbing speed, he shot from the spot, racing through the heavy foliage as if it didn't exist. Thorny shrubs tore at his hide and eyes as he barreled past them, but he felt nothing. Tears fell freely from his half-closed eyes, dissolving into the dense night air. All he could think of was his younger sister's death. He blamed himself and vowed to avenge her, even if it meant losing his own life.

By the time he got tired and skidded to a stop near a sycamore tree on the riverbanks, he had calmed down and resolved to fight the humans with everything he had. They needed to realize that they had ignited an inferno they couldn't extinguish, one that would consume them to the very last. He shifted to his human form and sat on an exposed root. That's when he smelled it: wolfsbane.

Ryan immediately realized that the fight had been brought home. It was either fight or be killed. There was nowhere to run. Going down on all fours, he followed the trail to a spot where the grass appeared trampled. After carefully sniffing the surroundings, he identified another scent. The scent of a man he had hunted all his life. The smell of Sir Redmond. It was a story he had never told anyone. During his encounter with his mother's killers, he had come across the man. Though a teenage boy at the time, Sir Redmond was already an established werewolf hunter. He had fled after watching his friends die agonizing deaths at the hands of Ryan. This was a rematch.

A sharp cry in his subconscious brought Ryan back to reality. The scream resonated again, this time louder and more frantic. Ryan realized he was in the middle of a mind link communication. Someone needed his help. Shifting into his magnificent wolf form, Ryan streaked through the forest towards the source of the call. In the process, he disturbed the forest's calm. Birds flew away in flocks, and antelopes and small rabbits burrowed deeper into the bushes to let the beast pass. None of this caught his attention. Within seconds, Ryan emerged into a clearing where the action was taking place.

A young silver wolf was backed up against a huge pine tree as a hunter advanced on her. The young wolf snapped her jaws, baring her small canines in a futile attempt to scare the hunter. On the other side of the clearing, a woman's body lay on the ground with three darts sticking out of her left breast. The fight stopped instantly when the thirty-foot wolf broke through the heavy foliage and burst into the clearing. The hunter dropped his axe and took to his heels. With a single swipe of his muscular paws, the wolf swept him off the ground and pinned him. The little wolf had automatically shifted to a young girl, about 12 years old, at the sight of Ryan's wolf. She was now screaming hysterically, mistaking Ryan's wolf for a savage. Ryan shifted to his human form, and the girl relaxed when she realized it was the Royal Wolf.

Desperately, the captured man tried to free himself from Ryan's monstrous grip. Realizing that his feeble punches couldn't harm him, the man drew a poisoned dagger from his military boots and struck out at Ryan. The blade sliced Ryan's hand on the lower side, close to his elbow. Instinctively, Ryan tightened his hold on the man's neck, squeezing the life out of him. The windpipe crumpled with a sickening crunch of cartilage, and the man's eyes popped in their sockets. He was dead. The slash on Ryan's arm had festered but was already healing at the edges.

"I am Ryan. What's your name?" he asked, offering his muscular hand.

"Laura," she replied hoarsely.

"Alright, Laura, I'm sorry you had to witness that. Is that your mom?" He nodded toward the woman's body.

Laura nodded as tears threatened to fall from her dark brown eyes.

"It's alright now, Laura. It's alright. Come with me to the castle and have something to eat."

"I am not leaving Mama alone," she said, her voice trembling.

"I will call for the warriors to carry her and prepare her for burial."

With a few tentative glances at her dead mother, she finally accepted Ryan's offered hand. Ryan scooped her up and carried her on his broad shoulders.