He sat on the other side of the cafe, watching his prey with sharp eyes. He had the menu out in front of him, hiding most of his face. He was almost completely undetectable but people still noticed his presence.
Mitchell Knight had that kind of effect on people, humans and Wolves alike. With his short, silky black hair; his different coloured eyes where one was a bright blue and the other was a bright green; his naturally tan skin looking like melted honey, so soft and taut, smoothed by hard muscles and a tall, lean frame... he stood out wherever he went.
He was lean for a Werewolf but he was well-built. He had muscles (nice muscles, at that), his body toned and defined enough to have the humans drooling after him, but he was less bulky than the average Wolf.
His body was built for speed and stealth. He was faster than the average Wolf with the ability to sneak in and out of virtually any place without being discovered.
Mitchell was a Hunter. It was obvious in his strong, agile frame that hid so well; it was obvious in his subdued scent that made it hard to detect him; it was obvious in the way he moved so quickly and quietly that not even a Werewolf could notice him if he wanted.
His skills and abilities were unlike anything anyone had ever seen. He was not only clever and talented but very attractive. It was his very appearance that often hypnotised his victim, leaving them paralysed and so dumbstruck that they sometimes fell before they could even blink.
He was the perfect hunter.
Mitchell was on another assignment. He'd been tracking down a traitor, a former pack member who had the guts to sell information about his pack to an enemy pack and for what? Mitchell couldn't think of any reason why someone could betray their pack—their family—like this.
Mitchell wanted to kill the traitor himself but he had strict orders to bring him back alive. His pack was his family and he protected and cared for his family with everything he had. He couldn't forgive anyone who wronged his family, but this wasn't about him.
He had strict orders to hunt the traitor down and bring him back to his Alpha. Alive.
He watched in silence. He couldn't take the traitor while they were among humans. He had to wait for him to leave. Mitchell was amused, wondering when the idiot would notice he was being watched, followed, hunted.
He figured that if he was going to wait for this moron to finish eating his burger, Mitchell might as well order something. He raised his hand carefully. The waitress who had her eyes on him from the moment he walked in beamed, rushing to his table.
"What can I get for you?" she asked, her tone like velvet.
"Black tea, please," he said, ignoring her gaze.
She seemed a little upset. Nevertheless, she didn't lose her smile nor her flirty attitude. "Sure. Anything else you'd like?"
"That's all, thanks."
Mitchell watched as she walked away in disappointment, huffing under her breath. He scoffed, a small smirk playing on his lips as he heard her complain to one of her coworkers.
When his tea arrived, he drank it in silence, his two-coloured eyes pinned on his prey like a hawk. They seemed to glint and glow whenever the light hit them and he was aware of people gawking at him when that happened.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the idiot froze, finished with his meal a while ago. Mitchell set his cup down, nearly done with his tea but no longer in the mood to drink it. About time he was noticed. He wanted to go home already.
Almost hesitantly, his prey glanced in his direction. Mitchell sat forward in his seat, tilting his head to the side, his small smirk growing and his mismatched eyes glowing when the traitor's gaze found him. Mitchell was never a fan of mind games but this rat deserved everything coming his way. Mitchell could hear his heart beating frantically; he could see the bead of sweat that trickled down the side of his face.
The traitor stood up abruptly, rushing to the cashier to pay before he literally ran out of the cafe. Mitchell snickered quietly, casually standing up and paying for his order before he walked out of the cafe, following the scent of the coward. While the traitor was running, Mitchell was walking calmly, his hands buried in the pockets of his black pullover hoodie.
The traitor had nowhere to run to nor hide, not even the snow could help him.
Once Mitchell caught a scent, he never forgot it.
Once Mitchell caught a scent, he never lost it.
This traitor was caught no matter where he went or how fast he ran. It was only a matter of time before he was either cornered or tired and Mitchell could wait.
But the idiot made it too easy. He immediately went for the outskirt of town, running towards the forest. Mitchell rolled his mismatched eyes, sighing as he followed. He waited until he was a few metres in the forest before he took his hands out of his pockets, his mood darkening and his features twisting.
And the hunt began.
Mitchell practically flew, his feet bounding on the snow-covered ground without a sound as his surroundings blurred due to his speed. He followed the scent, followed the panicked breaths and the rushing heartbeats, followed the echoing footsteps that were far too noisy and clumsy. The cold air whipped Mitchell's black hair back, his skin chilling just a little from the biting wind. It would snow again tonight. As a Werewolf, he had no issues with the cold; his body temperature was much higher than a human's but that didn't mean he didn't feel the air. He was aware of every change in the environment.
And just as quickly as the chase had started, it ended.
Mitchell had been a few metres behind the traitor when he jumped, his body colliding with the traitor before they were both sent rolling on the white ground. Mitchell's hand rushed to grip the traitor by the neck to keep him down and the traitor gasped.
He knew he was as good as dead.
"Good game," Mitchell told him before he drew his fist back and delivered a hard blow that had the rat unconscious instantly.
He dragged the traitor's body with one hand as if he was merely pulling a travelling bag, leaving a trail in the snow behind him. When he was close to town, Mitchell slung the unconscious guy over his shoulder with ease, making his way towards his car. The traitor had travelled quite far but Mitchell had caught him. His Alpha had requested for this pack's Alpha to grant Mitchell access to bring down a traitor and the Alpha was more than happy to help.
He could go home now.
There is a gruesome prologue before this chapter, and this chapter itself is much longer. To read the full story, click on the "support me" button. (●'◡'●)
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