Written in the Stars: Book 2 of the "Written" Duology

Spitfire

TW: This chapter has gore in it. Be warned! Happy reading!!

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I screamed and ducked when Trevor, using Midnight's claws and teeth, leapt at me, claws out and teeth bared. Crouching low, I was pressed almost flat to the floor.

Trevor gave a roar, pure hatred in the golden eyes of Midnight. "I should have killed you when I had the chance instead of running away like a coward," He snarled, walking step by slow step closer.

He was monologuing. Thank God he loves to talk, I thought before getting up and moving backwards. I had to find something quick to use as a weapon; literally anything would be good right about now.

"I should have shot all of you with that stupid dart gun, then I should have killed you all." He was shouting now, his words coming out rapidly. "I would have gotten a lot of money if you weren't there to fuck everything up. You should never have been there in the first place; I had a whole plane. Befriend those retarted mutts then strike when they least expected it,"

I heard something moving behind me and risked a look, seeing if it was one of those creepy assassins or not. To my luck, it wasn't. But it was too dark to see what was there, but I had no other choice but to keep walking back as Trevor advanced towards me with hungry eyes for murder.

"Then, at first when you came to town, I thought you'd be easy to fool. Win over with my charm. But," he chuckled darkly. "I guess someone beat me to the punch," He spat, referring to Hamish.

I stepped back and tripped on something. I tried to stop my fall, my hands grabbing out and purchasing nothing but air. I fell hard on my tailbone and I gave a cry out in pain. Trevor only laughed.

"Stupid, stupid, girl." He snarled. "You have to watch the merchandise," He said.

Merchandise? I thought as I looked down to see a bag. A very familiar bag. Working on pure instinct, I tore open the plastic bag that was moving and found red-tinted-black fur. Ignoring Trevor's yells, I pulled Spitfire out and got up.

"You know, Trevor, this isn't a good place to keep your exotic pets," I said just as I felt Spitfire wrap around me. It was fast acting, her joining with me; I felt her burrow under my skin, felt her power ruining through my veins once more. Only this time I was ready and I was fired up. I gave a snarl as Spitfire shaped my body, snapping and recreating new bones to accommodate her to form; fur grew and my clothes tore off as I grew into Spitfire.

Soon, Spitfire was standing tall and proud, looking down at Trevor and... Packmate, Spitfire whined, scenting first Greybeard—who smelled of pumpkins and spices. Then Spitfire scented Midnight. She had never met Midnight until now, but she knows that overall distinctive scent of the Knights of St. Christopher. One she is taking on herself.

Trevor was shaping into Midnight, too. Midnight soon was standing there in all his glory, chest out and head raised. Spitfire tried to get through to him, but to no avail; he was enraged and was influenced by Trevor's hatred.

He roared and launched himself at Spitfire, who dodged. Snarling with annoyance and pensiveness, Spitfire swiped out with clawed paws, striking Midnight across the chest. He roared in pain as his packmate did that; but he ignored it and launched at Spitfire again, who was still weak from being pumped full of sedatives from the last time she was using this Champion.

After what had seemed like eternity, Spitfire was already on the ground, breathing heavy. She staggered up, and roared at Midnight, "What are you doing?"