Argent's Wolf [NaNoWriMo 2020]

Chapter 2

Time moved. People with jeering faces in rooms that were too bright cursed him, and then everything shifted, and darkness covered him in a gentle blanket, ignoring the occasional flash of streetlights. The car engine rumbled almost soothingly underneath him. Silver continued to burn in his paws, but they weren't pinned to the bottom of the cage anymore. It didn't stop his body from trembling from silver poisoning. 

His Dad's voice whispered in the back of his mind again. Assess the situation. 

The car moved steadily. It didn't sound like they were going particularly fast, and they were on a smooth road. Ross took his time, in no hurry to reach their final destination. Streetlights started to flash through the window more often. They weren't on isolated roads. They moved over him dizzyingly as trying to move sparked his muscles, screaming at him. 

He couldn't move. It wasn't drugs. His body hurt from the aftermath of his exhaustion and the trauma from silver being fed directly into his bloodstream. Milo's deathbed would be at the end of the trip. He whined as a particularly hard bend jolted him. He still had the muzzle on too.

"Easy pup, almost there," Ross said, a large hand rubbed his flank. The scent of blood and gasoline drifted that clung to Ross like slime drifted over him. "Rest a little longer."

Milo didn't pick anything dangerous from Ross's tone. He obeyed, trying not to annoy the hunter more. Ross gave Milo's flank another rub before that hand left him alone. 

Ross blamed him for the death of his son. Everyone insisted it wasn't Milo's fault. Roddy didn't think it was his fault; he was Micheal's brother. Roddy watched what had happened. Milo hadn't bitten the man or even been the one to take him out. Milo didn't shoot the gun. None of that mattered; Ross blamed Milo and his friends to a lesser degree. They'd been the ones with Micheal during his final days. They'd been the ones to let a rogue wolf bite the human. The responsibility rested on their shoulders. 

Ross hadn't touched them so far because Roddy lived with them in their lair. As much as Ross hated them, he wouldn't hurt them in front of his remaining son. Ross didn't need to worry about that now. He had his prime target - Milo himself. The wolf in the group and the face/leader of their band of bleeding hearts.

This must have been like Christmas to Ross. The Walker he wanted the most fell right into his lap, vulnerable and in a place where no one could interfere. 

Milo wasn't sure how much time passed, but the car rolled to a stop. Ross gave him another firm pat to wake him up again. "Here we are. Home for the night," he said before the man got out of the car. The door slammed shut. Milo curled as tight as he could as the gravel crunched under Ross's feet as he stalked to the back of the car. 

It did nothing. A chill covered him as the boot opened. Ross's eyes gleamed gold in the harsh orange light, and he had a dark and unimpressed expression as Milo curled as close to the bar as he could get. This did nothing to stop him from reaching in and scuffing him. 

The yank hurt differently to everything else, jarring his bones and sending whispers of sparks from his other wounds. He landed on rough jeans in a hold that wasn't in itself violent. Ross sat on the edge of the boot with Milo on his lap, stroking through his fur and hushing his whimpers as it tried to rain. The scent of blood on Ross was stale. That was a little reassuring. He didn't fight the hold; the resignation that he was about to die destroyed any will to fight and left him compliant.

Calloused hands ran through his fur and avoided where the muzzle sat fastened too tight. Milo cried uncontrollably. It was all too much, and the worse was yet to come. 

"Hush, pop. Stop the whining. I need you to behave, and I promise you'll get some rest and food," Ross coaxed, his tone softening. 

Before Ross killed him? How nice.