The Alpha's Possession

✙ Chapter 2 ✙

Sprinting through the forest, I jumped over fallen trees, ducked underneath low branches, and swerved around trees in my path. My hair stretched out behind me, whipping around as I pumped my arms at my side. My combat boots smacked against the muddy earth while sweat rolled down my forehead, eventually falling away. Running wasn't something I liked to do, though in several cases, it saved my life. Over the howls, I heard my heart hammering in my chest, the blood pumping through my veins, and my uneven, heavy breathing. The she-wolf must've belonged to a pack; I guess she hadn't been a Rogue. Other than being alone, there wasn't any way to tell if a werewolf was one.

I started running farther north, the direction of my home, where my family was at, awaiting my arrival. First, I needed to escape the forest - the werewolves weren't going to chase after me through town, considering they wanted their existence to remain a secret to the human race. But, as I saw something dark and furry cut through the trees to my right, I knew escaping the forest was going to be a challenge. Seemingly impossible speed and strength came with being a werewolf; I should've known it wasn't going to be long until they caught up to me.

Just as I jumped over a fallen tree, a werewolf leaped out of nowhere at me, snapping his teeth. Prepared, I grabbed an arrow from my carrier, ducking out of the way. Though, as he flew past me, I stuck the tip of my arrow out, scraping him along the side. The smell of burning flesh filled my nose and he collapsed to the ground with a yelp. A hint of cockiness overwhelmed me, but it wasn't going to take him long to heal, so I didn't hesitate to continue running. I pumped my arms faster by my sides as I took larger steps. Around me, werewolves sprinted through the trees in blurs at the same pace, slowly caving in closer to me. They were planning on attacking me at the same time; obviously, I was outnumbered.

"Crap," I breathed, realizing I needed to think of a plan, otherwise I was going to die within a few minutes.

I couldn't shoot my bow while running nor did I want to risk wasting my bullets by attempting to shoot a gun while running. There was the risk of being mauled if I stopped and judging by how many were chasing me, I wasn't going to even have time to pull out my gun if I did. Also, there was no reception in the forest, meaning I couldn't contact my father for help. I was left with one option: climb a tree. I highly doubted that they were going to shift into their human forms to climb after me, considering being in their human forms was a vulnerable state for them. They couldn't protect themselves as much as being in their wolf forms. So, I searched for a tree with low branches, thankfully spotting one just ahead - an oak tree. I pushed myself to sprint faster, noticing how they were caving in closer. I fought through the ache in my muscles and choked down mouthfuls of air until I came to a jerking stop at the tree.

With my bow dangling from my shoulder, I grabbed the lowest branch and swung myself up. Frantically, I reached for the next branch, but just as my fingers brushed the sticky surface, the werewolves arrived down below. Several thoughts started rambling through my head when the only snarling reddish-brown male on the ground leaned back onto his hind legs and leaped into the air. I expected him to miss, but his claws managed to connect with my left ankle, tearing away some flesh. A short scream of pain escaped my lips and fighting back the tears, I climbed farther up the tree. The wound was burning, protesting with each branch that I crawled up, but I didn't spare a glance at my injury. When I was positive I was high enough, I flopped down on a thick, heavy limb and carefully tested its sturdiness by bouncing slightly.

When it held, I looked down at the snarling and growling werewolves. Two of them clawed at the trunk of the tree, ripping away some of the bark. All of their eyes, their white pupils, stared up at me, narrowed and filled with hatred. I licked my bottom lip and placed my bow onto the nearest branch, allowing it to balance. Finally picking up the courage, I turned my attention to my wound. It was throbbing and bleeding - a lot. Remembering my father's advice, I ripped the long sleeves of my shirt off, exposing my freckled arms. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was necessary. Then, I wrapped my sleeves around my ankle tightly, groaning with watery eyes. Believe it or not, but the pain was something I hadn't experienced before. Countless of times, I had scraped or bruised myself, sometimes even got myself knocked unconscious, but nothing I couldn't handle. This pain was horrible, so horrible that it couldn't be compared to anything.