Wild Wolves

Chapter 16 -Threat

Kristophe

Kristophe and the rest were really in big trouble. Laurent are have his way this time, in the way he sees it, he must be stopped! The conspiracy that he had with the Wild Wolves were putting every life at risk. Recently, he listened to a rumour that even the Sharmans are hunting him down including his daughter, Lydia.

The Sharmans think they both have to be executed, sure, but not on his watch.

Those beasts were after him and either he or Lydia would be captured if he didn't escape now.

Joseph has broken into his house, messed up everything that he could get his hands on. He was pissed, Joseph shouldn't ever touch his stuff.

Kate, Quinn, Eric, Scott and Hart are with the rest of Night Hunters running to an old museum, even though that wasn't the plan. But, it's a perfect place to fight.

There's an ambush of the pack of werewolves. They chased them in Chicago, Lydia's last location. Joseph was looking for him and the doggies wanted to eat him too. His life is on the line. If they knew Lydia's identity, they gonna hunt her down to the end of the Dark World.

He headed west, trying to avoid the werewolves. "15...43...50" Kristophe's lips pursed as he counts the number of Wild Wolves. He was well-known with war knowledge, his experience as a soldier had taught him much.

He can't believe that Laurent had enough gut to bet his daughter's life for power but, it wasn't surprising for Kristophe based on what he knew. If Laurent can kill his wife, it will be possible for him to kill his daughter too.

His canine tooth ached, the city lights were like twinkle stars. The street was wet and foggy, and he could smell everything from down here- car exhaust, concrete, dust and the reek of werewolves.

Wind howling, trees smashed, cold air smacking at the side of his face. He held his Nightshade sword, his jacket flapped as he waited for the right time to strike.

Draven, the leader of the Wild Wolves clan would love to have Laurent's glorious bodyguard's head on his dinner plate. Rain splashed his coat, raindrops dripping from his dark blonde hair.

Thunder rumbled, shallow snarled lingering in the thin air. Invisible shadows in camouflage approached. Slowly.

Silvery claws, the scent of wet dog smell getting stronger in a time. Ivory-teeth cracked open and the growl shook the tar and every corner of the building. The hunting aura and the rotten smell bang his nostrils, their pure hatred and wild instinct were like a sharp stake that slicing his skin.

Every hair rose in attention, he went to one side and leapt his left foot. Swung the sword and the second shot had slashed the furry suit. The male Wild Wolves screamed- cries of agonizing pain- assaulted his ear and rang inside his skull.

Sweat leaking, blood burst from the cut, painting the road, a few drops stained his shirt. Claws flying and it almost tear his handsome face at the north side. The werewolf backed up a bit, hold the pressure to his bleeding arm.

He struck his claws again, harder and faster than before. Its eyes raged with fire and a haunting aura. Kristophe ducked his head and spun twice along the blade near his shoulder. Kristophe swung his sword and smashed as well as cutting the werewolf's spine. It paralyzed and dropped to the ground.

He standing gracefully behind him and pushed the sword through the werewolf's trachea from the shoulder blade. Smoky, red blood boiled in the night. The werewolf's body shifted into human form as the fur skin melted.

A loud shriek echoed in every angle, and the window glass shattered from the building. He probably killed the alpha as their loud anger gave him the clue.