Red & Silver

Chapter 13 The Werewolf Next Door

There was just one thing I could do: shoot.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my crossbow and took aim at the she-wolf. My finger squeezed the trigger and the arrow flew, cutting through the air with a deadly precision.

But the damn werewolf was faster than I'd anticipated. She whipped her head around, catching sight of the incoming projectile and deflecting it with her powerful arm. The arrow veered off course, embedding itself into the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, but I quickly realized that my shot had served another purpose. Her momentary distraction allowed Silver to surge forward, taking advantage of her exposed flank.

He lunged at the werewolf girl, his fangs bared and claws extended. He tackled her to the ground, his claws digging into her fur.

"Submit!" he roared, his voice a mix of man and beast. To my surprise, the she-wolf did just that. Her body shifted and contorted, fur receding as she transformed back into a human. Silver followed suit, his silvery fur giving way to smooth, glistening skin.

The sight of them, both sweaty and panting on the forest floor, made jealousy claw at my insides. Why did she have to be so damn attractive? I clenched my jaw and climbed down from the tree, crossbow still firmly in hand.

As I drew closer, Silver tied the woman's hands and feet with expert precision, ensuring she wouldn't escape or transform again. My heart raced, caught between relief at our victory and the inexplicable envy that clawed at my insides.

"Did you kill the Matriarch of the Hoods?" I demanded, leveling my weapon at the captive woman, my voice dripping with venom. "You're a silver werewolf. We found your fur at the crime scene."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she shook her head vehemently. "I didn't even know the Matriarch of the Hoods was dead," she protested, her voice a mixture of fear and sincerity. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it."

But I wasn't convinced, not yet. I continued to interrogate her, prodding for any cracks in her story or signs of guilt. However, the more questions I asked, the more frustrated I became. It seemed like we'd reached a stalemate, and my patience was wearing thin.

"Fine," I huffed, lowering the crossbow just slightly. "If you're not going to tell us anything useful about who killed my grandmother, at least tell me your name."

The woman remained silent, her lips pressed together tightly. Her gaze shifted between me and Silver, as if unsure who to trust – or fear – more.

"Tell her," Silver stepped in, his voice calm and authoritative as he placed a hand on my shoulder. His touch sent an involuntary shudder down my spine, stirring up feelings I didn't want to acknowledge right now.

"Ylfa," she finally replied, meeting Silver's intense yellow eyes. "You're Kjartan's son, aren't you?"

I could see the surprise on Silver's face, his eyes widening and muscles tensing. "How do you know who I am?" he asked, suspicion lacing his words.

Ylfa's lips curved into a charming, innocent smile that made me feel guilty for treating her so harshly. "My mom knew your parents," she explained. "They were nice people."

Silver seemed taken aback by Ylfa's words, his eyes searching her face for any sign of deception. "Is that true?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course," Ylfa replied confidently. "Your parents used to live with the Nightshade Clan, along with my own parents, in this forest, before... Well, before they were kicked out." She tilted her head, studying Silver's reaction. "Didn't your parents tell you?"