Chapter 9. Witch and Wolves Pt. 1
"You!" Raven growls at me from afar, holding onto a dog's unconscious body, the Alpha of the pack.
"He wouldn't be Alpha anymore if you just finished the job properly." My smartass demon complains on the side.
There is no job and he is not my objective. This was a message: that I will not be fucked over, so if this pack wants to stay intact, then they better confess where my mother is. Or else.
"You!" She screams again, this time running towards me.
"Here comes the Bitch!" My demon warns.
I simply lift my gun in the air and pull the trigger. It feels like time slows down for too long, forcing me to etch the scene in my mind: the swivel of heads at the sound of my gun, the howls of anguish, and the scream of denial after a body drops from protecting their mate.
The wolves becomes more vicious, not taking long to massacre half the hunters, while the rest retreat. Only one stays behind, a boy in leather armor runs to me with a smirk on his pink lips. He is obviously bad news. Should I kill him too?
"The boy, he has the magic scent from one of your house traps." My demon comments.
Were those wolves telling the truth then? Is there more going on than another supernatural territory dispute?
I turn and leave through a window down the hall, but not before throwing a smoke bomb filled with acid.
"That boy's eyes are going to burn tonight." My demon chuckles at the thought.
I move through the night, pass the quiet houses and into the forest. I climb a tree and jump branches to the next.
"Watch out, the pup is coming."
How?
"The mate bond, dip-shit. Her wolf is in control."
Shit!
I stop at a random tree and pull from my magical storage my sniper. I set it up the fastest I can before the furball comes. Soon, its trotting in my position. My finger slowly inches to the trigger, but before I can shoot—
Bang! A hunter shoots my target.
"Damn, they're still here?" This is getting too dangerous for me.
"My turn," My demon swings from a branch above me, looking down at me in amusement.
I grit my teeth in reluctance, "Your turn."
"Good," she cackles.