I sniffed the air cautiously, my senses on full alert. I could smell blood - fresh, metallic, and unmistakable. It mixed with the other scents of the forest - pine needles, damp earth, the faint hint of human sweat. I shifted, feeling my muscles tense and flex under my skin, and took another deep breath. The smell of blood was stronger now, coming from deeper in the woods.
I slunk forward, my paws padding quietly over the forest floor. My fur was a dark, matte black, blending in with the shadows. In this form, I was faster and stronger than any human, able to run for hours without tiring. But I was also more vulnerable. A single gunshot could end my life.
I moved silently, my ears pricked for any sounds. There - a rustling in the underbrush. I crouched down, my eyes scanning for movement. A rabbit bounded out, darting across my path. I ignored it, keeping my attention focused on the blood smell.
I was deep in enemy territory - the territory of a rival pack. In the past, we had traded barbs and insults, sometimes coming to blows over small insults. But this - this was different. The smell of blood was thick enough that I knew there had been a battle. A battle my pack had lost.
My heart sunk as I thought about the rest of my pack. Were they all dead? Had anyone escaped? And if they had, where were they now? I gritted my teeth, feeling a surge of adrenaline. I had to find out what had happened. I had to find out who had done this.
The smell of blood was stronger now. I could hear the distant sound of raised voices, ragged breathing, and the occasional whimper. My nostrils flared, picking up new scents - the bitter tang of fear, the sour stench of urine, and the sweeter scent of victory.
I knew then that I was too late. The battle was over, and the winner had taken everything. The sound of raised voices faded away, replaced by the low growls and snarls of my kind. The scent of the winner was close - too close. I froze, crouching down, trying to make myself as small as possible.
A figure loomed over me, casting a long shadow in the moonlight. I could see his hackles raised, his teeth bared in a menacing snarl. He was bigger than me, more muscular, with fur as white as snow. I recognized him, even in the darkness. It was the Hunter, the most feared warwolf in the region. He was rumored to have wiped out entire packs on his own.
"What do we have here?" he sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "A little stray? A coward who couldn't defend his own?"
I didn't reply. I could feel the fur on my back rising, could taste the acrid scent of fear on my tongue. I knew that if I tried to run now, he'd catch me easily. I was trapped.
The Hunter circled around me, his eyes flashing with a cold menace. "Well, don't just stand there like a rabbit in headlights. What's your name, pup?"
"Ethan," I managed to say, my voice hoarse. "Of the Blackmoon pack."
The Hunter laughed. "The Blackmoon pack? That sorry excuse for a pack is no more. We wiped them out, every last one of them."
I felt my stomach clench in horror. It couldn't be true - my pack couldn't be gone. But then, the smell of blood hit me again, stronger than ever. I shuddered, feeling sick to my stomach.
The Hunter stepped closer, his face inches from mine. I could feel his hot breath on my skin, could see the glint of his wild eyes. "But don't worry, little pup," he said softly, almost kindly. "You don't have to die. We could use a strong, young warwolf like you in our pack. Of course, you'll have to swear allegiance to me. To the Hunter."
I shook my head, feeling tears pricking at my eyes. I couldn't do it. I couldn't swear allegiance to the monster who had killed my pack. My family. My friends.
The Hunter's eyes narrowed. "Suit yourself," he growled, and then lunged at me.
I dodged to the side, my instincts taking over. I was faster than him, but not by much. His teeth snapped at my flank, and I felt them graze my fur. I bared my own teeth, facing him head-on.
The fight was brutal, a blur of snarls, slashes, and bites. Both of us were bleeding, panting, and growling with rage. I could feel my own strength ebbing away, could feel the Hunter's grip on my neck tightening. It was over.
With a final desperate effort, I kicked out with my hind legs and caught the Hunter off-balance. He stumbled, his grip on my neck loosening. I broke free, gasping for air, and then ran.
I ran and ran, adrenaline fueling my limbs. I could hear the Hunter's furious howls behind me, could feel his footsteps pounding on the earth. He was still after me. And he wouldn't stop until I was dead.
I pushed myself harder, my legs burning with exertion. I had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to lick my wounds and regroup. I could feel my own blood pouring down my fur, could taste the salty tang of it on my tongue.
Ahead, I saw a clearing, bathed in moonlight. It seemed like a haven, a refuge from the terror that had pursued me. I bounded forward, my eyes fixed on the clearing, my limbs heavy with exhaustion.
And then I saw her. A human girl, standing in the center of the clearing, her long hair blowing in the wind. She was looking right at me, her eyes wide with shock and wonder.
And then I felt a sharp blow to my side, and everything went black.
Darkness. Pure, unadulterated darkness. That's all there was. For a moment, I panicked, wondering if I had died. Had the Hunter finally caught up to me? Had I failed to escape after all?
But then I felt pain. A throbbing ache in my side, where the Hunter had hit me. It was like a hot poker had been plunged into my flesh, burning and searing all the way down to my bones. I groaned, trying to shift, but my limbs wouldn't respond. I was trapped somewhere, immobilized, and in agony.
Slowly, I started to come to my senses. I realized that I was lying on something soft - a bed, perhaps? - and that there were voices in the distance, murmured and low. They were speaking a language I didn't understand, but the tone was urgent, bordering on panicked.
My eyes flickered open, and I was momentarily blinded by the light pouring into the room. The walls were painted in a soft, creamy yellow, and there were posters and paintings hung up haphazardly. I spotted a stack of books on a shelf, and a potted plant in the corner. It looked like a regular bedroom, but there was something odd about it.
And then I saw her - the girl from the clearing. She was perched on a chair next to the bed, her hands clasped tightly together, and her eyes fixed on me with something like wonder. She was human, I knew that much, but beyond that, she was a mystery.
"Who are you?" I croaked out, my voice hoarse with disuse.
She smiled weakly, her eyes flickering with relief. "You're awake," she breathed. "I was starting to get worried."
I frowned, trying to piece together what had happened. "Where am I?" I asked, my gaze sweeping over the room again. "What is this place?"
"It's my house," she replied, her voice soft. "You stumbled in here last night...injured and bleeding. I couldn't just leave you there. Not after what I saw...what happened to you."
I blinked, feeling a surge of gratitude mixed with confusion. Why would a human, of all creatures, help me? Especially after what had happened to my pack?
"I don't understand," I admitted after a moment. "Why are you helping me? Don't you know what I am?"
Her expression softened, and she reached out to touch my fur lightly. "I know what you are," she said. "But that doesn't mean you're any less deserving of compassion. You're injured, and alone, and scared. That's all I need to know."
For a moment, we both lapsed into silence. I tried to take stock of my situation. I was in a human's house - a human who apparently knew what I was - with no idea of where the Hunter and his pack were, or if they were still after me. It was a precarious position to be in, to say the least.
"I don't know how to thank you," I said finally, my voice low. "But I don't think it's safe for me to stay here. Not with the Hunter after me."
The girl's expression darkened, and I felt a sense of empathy radiating from her. "Is that what happened to you?" she asked softly. "Were you attacked?"
I hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. But there was something about the girl that made me trust her. Something that whispered of hidden depths, of strength and compassion layered beneath her frail human exterior.
"Yes," I said simply. "My pack...my people. The Hunter killed them all. I'm the only one left."
The girl gasped, her eyes widening with horror and grief. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea...I was just trying to help. If there's anything I can do -"
She broke off suddenly, her gaze fixed on something behind me. I twisted my head awkwardly, trying to follow her line of sight, and then I saw it.
A creature, peering at us through the window. It was pale, almost white, with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth. I knew in an instant what it was - a werewolf, like me, but one that had given in to the primal urge for blood and violence.
"The Hunter's pack," I growled, trying to rise to my feet. But the pain in my side flared up again, and I felt myself falling back onto the bed.
"We have to get out of here," I said urgently, trying to push myself up again. "They'll break through the window any moment. If we don't -"
The werewolf smashed through the window just then, shattering glass and sending it raining down on us. The girl screamed, ducking under her chair, and I lashed out with my claws, trying to fend off the attacker.
But there were too many of them. Two more werewolves burst into the room, snarling and snapping, and I knew that it was over.
I was going to die. Again.