The winter air was cold and harsh; at least he had his pelt to keep him from freezing as he squeezed himself into the small nook under some random house’s porch steps. It was times like these that Hunter wishes he’d stayed with the pack that had helped him.
But he couldn’t trust them, not when the healer and her son had discussed killing that other boy. The boy had done nothing to them and they wanted to end his life because of something the fairies wanted with him. Hunter looked down and shook his head.
He promised himself not to think about that kid anymore, Jace. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and shook his head again. There was no point in hanging on it; he’d never see the boy again. The snow started then and Hunter tried squeezing himself in even tighter.
It was no use Hunter would have to try to find someplace else to go or he’d die of exposure. Taking a moment to brace himself, from the cold, before he crawled out from under the porch and headed out looking for some place warmer, he wondered the streets keeping his head low and ignored any passersby.
It was easy staying out of sight and keeping under the human’s radar. Hunter kept to the shadows and hunkered down when he saw a cop car. He made it all the way to the forest, the thick and dense trees provided more shelter to the wind then the buildings ever would.
Hunter sniffed the air, scenting for danger. Once he was satisfied there was none he crept deeper into the trees. The forest was quiet as the critters slept through the colder seasons.
It wasn’t long until Hunter picked up on the scent of fear and anger. Hunter paused and lifted his head to get a better lock on the scent; that’s when he scented feral wolves, a few of them wondering in a group. Hunter wasn’t sure how many there were, he wasn’t that skilled in distinguishing scents.
He turned and moved to head away from the area clearly marked out as theirs when he heard the scream. Night growled as Hunter turned and charged straight into the feral wolves’ territory. He knew damn well that he shouldn’t be doing this but he couldn’t just walk away either. Hunter made his way towards the scream as the scent of blood filled the air.
Hunter faltered then at the memories of his pack being attacked. They were fuzzy and out of focus, but he remembers the smell of blood and smoke. Night howled in agony every time he thinks back to that night. Night then demanded he turn around and leave, to just ignore it and save himself.
Shaking his head he continued on to the sight of a little girl fending off four wolves. Two were already dead and one was wounded and whimpering while the fourth was taking its time with the girl circling her slowly. She looked like she was about to pass out as she lay gripping her side.
Silver was in the air, Hunter found was coming from a gun lying forgotten on the ground. The able bodied wolf growled and lowered his head ready to attack. His pelt was as black as Hunter’s and twice Hunter’s size but that didn’t matter.
The little girl, who’s coat had been ripped and torn and was now covered in blood as fear warped her face drove Hunter forward, diving at the feral wolf and plunging his teeth into its neck. Blood filled his mouth driving the animal instincts and his wolf forward.
The wolf jerked a weak attempt to get Hunter off but Hunter had already delivered the final blow and blood poured from his neck. The wolf thrashed for a moment longer before just dropping to the ground in a limp heap. Hunter let him go hesitantly and did not expect for the wolf to jolt forward knocking him over and bolting.
Hunter yelped and fell back in shock and watched the black wolf go, blood leaving a trail as it went. Hunter just sort of froze in confused awe. He was sure he heard the snap of the wolf’s neck. Glancing down he noticed a few twigs,
Looking over to the girl he realized she was unconscious. He hurried over to her and sniffed, she was still alive. Her heart was beating strong and she was recovering from the wounds quickly. Hunter shifted and stepped closer,
She’d been bitten.
The scent of the birth of a wolf covered her like a thick fog. Hunter glanced around, the wolf that had been wounded was gone in its place was something shinny. Stepping over to it Hunter changed forms as he picked it up, a small flower pendant on a broken gold chain.
“Mara where are you Mara!” A woman shouted from not far off. Hunter dropped the pendant and changed forms again. He took another glance at that small red head girl before bolting. He didn’t get far, he ran straight into a group of humans smelling thickly of silver and death. Hunters, he was so screwed.
“I found one!” A man said in a talkie and aimed a gun at him. After a moment of silence the man aimed to kill him.
“Don’t!” Don’t kill any of them!” A woman shouted over the talkie. “Catch them we need all of them alive!” The hunter’s looked up at the others in his group. Hunter took that moment to run, he took a sharp turn and just ran.
It was just his luck to help out a hunter child from getting killed. It was just his luck to be a wolf in the area.
It was just his luck.
He knew what was going to happen now, he and all the other wolves in the area are going to be hunted down and captured, then brought to that little girl to kill. It was an old legend, if a turned human kills the wolf that bit them they’d return to their human form.
Hunter didn’t think any of it was true, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around and try to convince them of that. He knew sooner or later they’d catch him and he’d die by the hands of a girl he’d saved just so she could maintain the hope she’d someday kill the wolf that was born inside of her that night.
Hunter was stupid.
He should have listened to Night when he told him to run. He should have listened to Night, when had it ever been wrong? He should have listened.
Hunter just kept running as his wolf told him to do and vowed to never trust a human again. To never stick his neck out and help anyone. He was Rouge wolf with no home and no loyalty; doing stupid stuff like that was going to get him killed.
Over the years Hunter watched as the feral wolves were hunted down and killed. He never once saw the black wolf that he’d attacked ever hit the hunters’ radar. He was never an object of their focus and soon Hunter was the only one left.
He’d been the only wolf who hadn’t fallen feral to have been there that night. He had been the only one smart enough to run from the hunters then to fight back.
Hunter had run every time.
But they were always right there on his trail that was until he met Haven. They backed off like they were afraid of Haven or something to do with Haven. Hunter just couldn’t figure it out.What was so special about Haven?