Winter's Fire

Another night, another dark alley…

The thunder was clashing above my head as the rain beat down on my face. Like the legends of old, I could almost feel Thor smashing his hammer down on the anvil in beat with the flickering in the night sky.

While I could smell the rotten food molding from the rank wetness in the air. My head was swimming from the amount of booze I had flooding in my system, waiting for the beast I was hunting to finally come out of the hole in the wall dive bar he was chasing for his latest victim. This was the night, I thought. This was the night I would finally have my chance to be greeted by the gates of Valhalla.

I told myself this every night, every night was the same. The beast I hunted fell and I survived, lost in the haunting that was my very existence. Cursed to wake another morning battered and bruised until my regeneration kicked in… but this time would be different, I could feel it in my soaked bones. Thor was giving me his blessing, I could die…

That’s one way to start a story, wasn’t it? The end where I have fallen to my worst. The brave warrior princess, reduced to a drunkard in a rat infested alley, hearing the sounds of the rain beating on the asphalt while rats and roaches scurried about looking for their next meal while the stench of the city filled my nostrils.

What have I become?

…A hot mess. Consumed by grief and despair.

I looked at the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand, a short breath in, damn. This would be the one thing I missed, the burning feeling of the whisky as it slid down the back of my throat. A small price to pay. I had nothing else to live for, no light to cling onto, all that was left within was the bitter anger for that which was lost and that I remained.

Another swig from the bottle, the stinging sensation of the dark amber liquid as it burned so sweetly as it went down. I gave a deep breath as I felt it wretch at my empty stomach, when was the last time I ate? Days? Not that it mattered. Tonight all my pain would end.

That’s what I told myself. That’s what I had to believe. It was the only thing that gave me strength to pull myself up off the ground when I heard the back door of the bar open.

There he was, the red headed bastard. A young warrior for the Hati clan, luring out a young woman who was enthralled by his charm. Disgusting. The girl was an idiot to fall for the likes of him. I watched him put his hands over her thin body and kiss her with a gusto of a man who had only seen kissing through a porno, his lips far to open, slobbering and trying to suck down her face.She was too drunk to notice, for a split second I thought about just leaving her to her fate. Why bother when she clearly was into creeps?

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself and then rolled my eyes, as much as I could pretend that I was indifferent, I couldn’t quite convince the nagging voice in my head.

A wolf’s ears were just as keen as their sense of smell, which is why I came here to wait for him, masking my scent with the rain and garbage but my quiet outburst betrayed me. Well, so much for the ambush.

There was a snap and growl, the girl’s body flying away from the mass of the large Hati male like a wet rag doll, colliding into a series of garbage cans, knocking them over with a clatter. See, if he had been smarter, he would have used her as a hostage. That might have given me some pause, but males weren’t known for their brain cells.

“Big man. Show me your might by throwing…” Oof.. a bad time for my body to try and burp up my whisky. “Ah fuck it.” That was my last words, before I took my bottle of Jack Daniels and moved in so quickly that my body blurred between the raindrops.

I was upon the male so fast he didn’t see it coming, smashing the half bottle of liquor across his rusty colored dome, followed by a sickening crack. The bottle shattered and with another swift movement I lodged the broken bottle neck into his.

This wasn’t enough to slow down a wolf, this just pissed them off.

A howl of pain before his body shifted, bones contorting in a gross chorus of snapping and breaking, limbs reforming, long thick claws and sharp fangs as his body burst into a giant form of muscle, red fur, and pure hatred.

Now the fight got interesting. The back of his claws hit me in the stomach so hard that it felt as if I had just been hit by a semi truck doing ninety. My back hitting the brick wall of the bar, knocking the wind right out of my lungs. A gasp for breath, choking, as I felt the contents of my stomach churn, threatening to come back up and spew on the ground where my body laid.

Like hell I was dying on the ground, not this bitch. I felt my bones snap back as they healed, regenerating always hurt worse than the pain which inflicted them, making it one of the most sobering experiences in our life. Though in the time it took me to get back up on my feet the male could have finished me off, but again, males… They aren’t very bright.

I drew myself up to my feet and placed a hand on my ribs, commanding the booze twisting in my stomach to stay down with a low growl. The male must have thought I was growling at him, as if he was worth the posturing, he came rushing towards me with claws aimed for my face, baring his teeth in a menacing snarl.

From my side I took my karambit, dropping to my knee as he lunged and with precision my hand guided the blade over his soft belly, gutting him open from sternum to navel. It was as visceral as imaginable, his body slumping over on his side as he tried to keep his own contents of his belly inside of him. Pathetic. Weakling.

His regeneration was slower than mine, it would take him a few minutes to knit back together. His breeding wasn’t like mine, his blood muddled by American wolves, which were no better than dogs… mongrels, mutts…

Here I thought with me being drunk the fight would have been worth something but alas, there was not enough alcohol.

Lightning flashed in the sky, the thunder roaring out and I could hear the drums of war pounding in my ears and all else was lost. Before the poor bastard could even get up, I was on him and my blade came down.

Thor’s hammer and anvil, covered the sounds of me tearing into this Hati male and removing his still beating heart from his chest. Another unwanted victory, another heart that I had to consume. As that was the way of the wolf.

Eating a heart left a wolf in a fugue state for a time. The most empowering experience was also the wolf’s most vulnerable, even for someone like me. I couldn’t tell you what happened to that girl, whether she lived from being thrown or if he woke up later in that alley alone and wet. Our bodies when the heart is consumed burn and leave no trace we ever existed.

I woke up to the sun piercing through my window in my apartment, my head pounding from the drink and the fight, my body aching all over, giving a frustrated and angry groan. I lived. Fuck me. I pulled myself up slowly, feeling all the sore muscles protesting.

I looked to my night stand and picked up a bottle of beer that was left and shook it to feel the empty contents and I grunted with disappointment. My mouth felt gross, I could still taste the blood on my tongue from that male. Bits of his heart meat caught in my back molars, and me trying to haphazardly fish them out with my tongue at first before shoving my finger back to pull it free… No luck.

With effort I got to my feet, I was still in my clothes from last night and they stunk of the alley, the male, and stale whisky. Fantastic. I was too sober for this shit.

After I did my business of taking off my clothes, going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and showering, I took a hard look in the mirror at my naked form.

No bruises from the fight, no cuts, no scratches… Just the scars of my previous life riddling my body. How I got so good at fighting was from losing… a lot. Surviving what would have killed lesser wolves, but not me. Not Leyna Stidolph. Etched like a road map of pain, my hand went over the claw marks along my lower belly. It’s been years now but every now and then I still get phantom kicks and flutters. I closed my eyes for a moment and focused like I used to, remembering the sound of his cry when he was still in my womb. My little warrior. My Viktor. He was going to grow up to be a proud prince, handsome like his father, smart like me, with twice the bravery either of us had.

The thought of him still made my chest ache.

A million hopes and dreams of the kind of man my son would have been, crushed and ripped from me in one foul swoop, taking my mate with it. The Hati ripped everything from me that night, and I lived in a nightmare of still hearing my son’s cries as he took his first and final breath.

I needed a drink. Something to dull the pain, a way to forget the memories that plagued my mind and soul. I know, I am so edgy and dark. If I could get away with it and still have the kind of death I needed, I would just take a blade to my own wrists and call it a day. However, a Skoll only gets into Valhalla when they die on their feet.

I head out into the kitchen, not even bothering to put on clothes. No one else was here and even so, not that they would have the balls to order me around. I went to the fridge and pulled out a fresh bottle of beer, twisting off the cap and took a long drink to wash down my ennui…

Like magic my phone that was sitting on the kitchen table let out a notification ping. Now what? I picked up my phone… Shit. A full moon.

I didn’t notice it was drawing so close and worse I knew I wasn’t the only wolf in the area. The lands where I could run were controlled by an American mongrel, a self-proclaimed Alpha and his band of mutts. I didn’t want to deal with any of them, males were bad enough but Alpha males were the worst kind, especially when they lacked training. No worse than thugs who hung out in the thicket looking for an easy target.

Females were always seen as weak, submissive to all the males and it was fucking disgusting. Not that I have issues with being bent over and fucked until I’ve had my fill but these chucklefucks probably couldn’t even point where the clitoris was without a road map, and even then, they would tell you just to shut up and that they knew what they were doing. Two seconds later they were spasming and jerking, while their buddies got in line for sloppy seconds. Every unmated male got their turn, and if the female survived? She would be wishing she didn’t. Worst is the females who buy into that shit, that they can’t fight back. That they didn’t have the same power flowing through their veins. Cull them all.

However, I don’t have a choice but to run. Being in town under the full moon was dangerous. Our aggression was at its peak; we hunted, we reveled, and every wolf had to obey the call or end up rabid in moon madness.

I tossed my phone on the counter and took a deep breath. Shit. I drank down the rest of my beer and slammed the bottle on the counter. Maybe I could avoid the Alpha and his dirty pack of losers. If not, well… Hello, Valhalla.