Oath

Rebel's P.O.V-

The pub was full of life. This part of the small town was run by independent, strong witches who believed in only one thing—coins.

Their territory was fiercely protected, yet welcoming to almost every species willing to pay for cold beer and hot food.

I pulled my dirty brown hood lower over my face and casually—though cautiously—sat opposite a group of hunters I had been keeping an eye on for quite some time.

"The Kathekons have taken over the world. It's nearly impossible to stop them. Fucking rabid dogs."

A blond man named Kyle stabbed harshly at a glazed chicken leg, his knife nearly cutting through the flimsy fiber bowl.

"Those are just savage dogs," Frey, the brunette, said from his seat, slouching lazily. "They can't possibly overthrow other species so easily, especially elves and vampires."

"Don't be fucking stupid, Frey."

Another man, Henry, gulped down his dark beer before slamming the mug onto the table. "Werewolves have been in power for hundreds of years. Half the elves already abandoned their villages and moved south after their king was brutally murdered. And vampires—no matter how arrogant they are—can't overpower wolves when those rabid dogs fight dirty."

He winced as the bitter aftertaste of the beer hit his tongue.

"So it's true then. Those rabids are using magic," Jake, the tallest of the group, said grimly.

"Not just any magic," Greg added, his face just as red. "Mage's magic. The forbidden kind."

"Rumor is Rodriguez's beta is a hybrid," Kyle said, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Blood of a mage and a werewolf. He could be the one behind all of this."

"Zachary? He's a ruthless monster, but isn't he mute?" Frey asked, eyeing Kyle.

"He's not mute, idiot." Henry took another long swig of beer—then immediately fell into a violent coughing fit.

"Slow down, drunkard. Let your liver have some rest," Jake grumbled, clearly disgusted as his mate nearly barfed through both mouth and nose, dirtying the floor which seemed hasn't seen a clean water mops since the dawn of mankind.

Not to mention, they were earning dirty looks from almost every table. A few creatures even muttered comments about their inhumane way of devouring food and beer.

Then again, the six of us were probably the only humans here.

"Ten kwintons and twenty-five quibbles will be added for this mess." Out of nowhere, a woman appeared beside the table, wrapped in an outrageously frilly gray cloak.

"Ten kwintons and twenty-five quibbles? Are you kidding me?" Frey shot upright, his back cracking loudly enough to make him hiss in pain.

It was clear, the witch didn't like humans, but then again, witches were known to be loyal for their kind and coins only.

"Ten kwintons and twenty-eight quibbles," the witch replied calmly, her eyebrows barely twitching.

That was absurd. Meanest to the core move.

"No, we won't pay that much. Our bill is five kwintons and eighteen quibbles," Greg snapped, his voice rising with irritation.

"Twelve kwintons and thirty quibbles it is," the witch said in a low voice, adding the quibbles just to piss them off more.

"You can't be serious," Jake grumbled.

"Thirteen kwintons and thirty-two quibbles." The witch calmly increased the amount.

"We'll pay thirteen kwintons and thirty-two quibbles." Kyle finally spoke, cutting through the tension that had begun to thicken in the now heavily stench-filled room.

"Good decision."

The witch waved her hand through the air and a rag appeared in her palm.

"Clean the mess before you leave." She placed the rag on the table and met Kyle's glare with her own cold stare.

"Will do." Kyle gave a short nod. Knowing all too well that beefing in all enemies territory would be never be good unless you are twenty beers down, or a troll or simply have a death wish.

The witch vanished into thin air as if she had never been there at all.

"Are you out of your mind?" Greg hissed loudly. "You agreed to pay almost triple the amount to that old hag like it was nothing."

"Do you want to die here mercilessly?" Kyle shot back. "Then go ahead and refuse the witch. We'll be on our merry way without you."

Greg shut his mouth, though the anger was still clear on his face.

"But thirteen kwintons and thirty-two quibbles is a lot," Jake sighed. "Our last deer hunt only earned us six kwintons and twelve quibbles when we sold it to the dwarves."

"I made seven kwintons in that fighting ring. I think we're good." Kyle dropped the money onto the half-drenched tablecloth.

"I can manage twenty quibbles."

All the hunters looked at Frey with raised eyebrows. He was neither a skilled hunter nor a fighter.

"The dwarves pay me whenever I volunteer to carry their groceries." Frey shrugged and added all of his savings beside Kyle's coins without another word.

Jake cleaned the mess with a pinched nose before adding the rest of the money.

Frey gently patted Henry's back while the drunk man muttered nonsense and groaned in pain.

"Son of a bitch," Henry whined, barely able to stand on his feet.

Frey quickly became the crutch of his dear friend, who was far beyond his senses.

"Let's get out of here," Greg said sourly.

I placed half a quibble on the table since I only drank water for the past half an hour and quietly slipped out, following the hunters.

The moment was almost here. Now I just had to be quick and slick.

Tonight's target was the drunkard Henry. I knew he was carrying at least two and a half kwintons.

The hunters rode motorcycles around town. Their financial situation was so poor that their beaten old machines took forever to start, and they only had two for the five of them.

Frey and Greg stayed back with the drunken Henry while Kyle and Jake struggled to start their rusty rides.

The moon hung in the sky while thick clouds did an excellent job of dimming its brightness, wrapping the night in deeper shadows.

I hid skillfully behind a line of tall bushes only a few centimeters away from the lurking fools.

Sliding my hand carefully into Henry's pocket from behind, I felt him flinch slightly when my fingers brushed the worn fabric of his beaten-up pants.

Frey didn't seem to notice Henry's constant whining. He simply hummed in sympathy.

Henry slapped his hand down irritably on his left thigh. However, I was quicker.

Without another second to waste, I slipped two shiny silver coins from his pocket and ducked back behind the bushes, quickly securing them inside the pocket sewn into my hood.

A moment later, Henry whined loudly in pain.

"What is it?" Frey asked, worried.

"It's scra...atching," Henry slurred, furiously scratching at his pocket.

The roar of an engine cut their conversation short as the other hunters called their mates to join them. I waited until the loud whirring of tires faded into the distance.

A triumphant smile crept onto my face. It was time to head back to my hut, which was only a few kilometers away.

"Where do you think you're going with my mate's money?"

The hard voice behind me almost made me stumble. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Without wasting another second, I bolted west of the town—straight into the jungle.

"Hey! You thief! Stop!" Kyle shouted as he ran after me.

More voices joined in, yelling for me to stop, but I didn't slow down. I had been stealing from these hunters for the past two months. Needless to say, it had been fun while it lasted.

Now all I had to do was confuse these broke-as-hell idiots and bid them my final goodbye. I couldn't risk it anymore.

"She's heading into the jungle! That's fucking no-man territory!" Greg shouted angrily.

"She's a witch!" Jake screamed.

I kept running even after the footsteps behind me faded. That could easily be a trick.

For all I knew, they could still be tracking me. I ran another three miles before turning left. My hut came into view in the distance, pulling a relieved smile from my lips.

I didn't slow down until I reached the river.

"I'm not a witch," I muttered to myself.

I cupped water from the river in my hands and splashed it across my face. The cold instantly cooled my burning skin, and I finally let out a long breath of relief.

"Pray tell... what are you then?"

I froze mid-crouch when I felt cold, sharp metal press against the side of my neck.

"Don't even think about running," the voice continued. "Try to escape and I won't hesitate to press this beauty deeper into that pretty little neck of yours and separate it cleanly from your shoulders."

I felt a warm breath drift over the top of my head. Slowly, I raised my hands in surrender without making a sound. Truth be told, I was scared shitless.

I wasn't a skilled fighter by any means. Hell, I could barely hunt a rabbit on my own.

"Stand up," the voice ordered. "Slowly. Then turn around."

I did exactly as I was told.

"Whoa... she's a girl," Frey said loudly.

When I turned, I spotted Henry lying flat on his back beside Frey's legs, snoring loudly.

____

Author's Note:

Moral of the chapter: stealing from hunters is a profitable hobby... until they notice.

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