Wereball Series - Along Came A Mate

Chapter 37

Sometime during the football game, the drizzle had turned to full rain, increasing the dangers of an already extremely dangerous sport, if you could call it that way.

Could you call the gladiators fighting against lions a sport?

I watched both my mate and my twin, in anticipation, from the sidelines, as the crowds growled and snarled. And all the animal sounds that existed in the predatorial worlds were heard.

There was something about the way Logan moved that completely enraptured me. He knew no fear when he stepped forward while commanding his teammates what to do with numbers and codes unknown to Comet.

His mere being was filled with domination, urging everyone to bow to his will. He was lethal, more like a predator than a normal player.

His powerful legs guided him between the rival players. He moved right and then pretended to go left, then moved forward instead of passing the ball.

My eyes rested on the 140-yard line at the exact same moment Logan threw the ball across the field with a flawless pass, 70 yards closer to the end line. A werewolf arena was at least three times the size of a human stadium, considering that their strength was, well, greater.

My eyes remained fixed on him, my lips slightly parted as I see him watch the ball, 100% focused on the flying ball. When a teammate grabbed it, his fist hit the air in pride before one of the Jokers pounced on him from the right and a Comet's player attacked him from behind.

I had to cover my mouth when fangs sank into his forearm, but I quickly breathed a sigh of relief when Logan kicked the Comet's player away and then glared at the Joker with a scary grimace: the wolf lowered his ears and with a bark went to attack another player.

My hand slipped over the necklace, my fingers traced the half moon and the sign of the letter.

I understood why my pack felt intimidated, why Lachlan felt threatened. Logan seemed more at home in a wereball arena than anywhere else. Logan was a machine that specialized in brutally injuring people and knocking out enemies like skittles.

He was a warrior who rode a predator, two in one.

"Freaking Alpha Carrion's son is not bad at all, damn him!" My dad growled, making me smile. "I'll personally make sure to kick his fat ass for raising such an annoying son!"

I thought I would tell father the truth, but an automatic reply came instead, as I thought my ageing dad would die of a heart attack otherwise.

"Dad, that wouldn't be appropriate"

"Fuck that..." he grumbled, not realising he was speaking to me.

"Husband!!" My mother smacked him on the shoulder, "Language!"

"Sorry, I-"

"Come on, Highlander, fuck those little pussies!"

My dad and I both looked at each other for a second, wide-eyed and incredulous, at hearing my mother's words as Uncle Andrew shouted several other obscenities, along with her.

By then, Comet had managed to score twice in a row, but then DD made three consecutive touchdowns, after Logan had basically slaughtered two of the Comet's players.

Was that their strategy? Killing players, dismembering and assaulting them, until they were outnumbered?

It seemed so.

The classic "High-land-er! Go-Smash-Them!" chant vibrated through our wings, while watching my brother pull off yet another dazzling display of athleticism. He threw another perfect pass right into Caius' awaiting hands.