Among The Wolves

Dust

This chapter contains descriptive scenes of violence. If you are sensitive to these things, you may want to skip this chapter.

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The recruitment from the additional two packs and Alpha M’est’r turning wolf was certainly enough to throw every Vakusian and their leader off guard but the real bafflement came from the small group of loyal-to-Tevit soldiers. Uncertain of this was their friend or foe they hardly knew how to act. Whether they should put on offence or defence.

Until it was too late.

A horn blew, calling any soldier to come back from the woods to aid in the surprise.

I was still held up by Joinervetti but not for long. The sky darkened, a shadow covered us. Alpha M’est’r lunged for his enemy. Joinervetti's eyes flickered and his grip on me released. I did even blink before he shifted and skillfully recieved the opponent.

Pouncing backwards and landing easily on the gravel. The shiny armor, however, was not made for the shifting. While many parts of it fell off from the get-go, there were some, like the gorget, that clung awkwardly to the new form making the massive wolf look as if he was part of the circus.

The Vakusians that surrounded the truck shouted and split. Those at the east charged for Commander Tevit's men. Whom I now noticed a difference. While girded with the same protection, it looked as if they all had some form of red paint splattered on their front and their helmets. A distinction, I assumed, from the other Vakusians.

Those on the west went out but not far. Readying their dart guns. Preparing themselves for the onslaught of wolfbloods. The narrow line of men seemed so minute compared to the stampede of wolfbloods that were still emerging from the treeline.

The world erupted into chaos but hope seemed sure.

Yet, alarmed but the sudden violence I quickly knelt down and the act hurt my side. Groaning, I pressed tightly to my wound and looked around the truck bed. All the Alphas were gone and five Vakusians lay dead on the truck bed. Their blood was still oozing and dripping off the side.

Grieved, I turned my head to remove the image at the same time that a cold metal pressed against my temple. “What the heck are you?”

Ah, my ol’co-recruiter.

I chuckled dryly, mostly to distract myself from the pain. “Hello to you too.”

“WHAT ARE YOU?!”

I covered my face and bit back a moan. “Used to be human… Now, I'm a werewolf.”

“I am not a fool, these creatures call themselves wolfbloods, not werewolves!”

I dared to look up, even with a gun barrel resting on my forehead. Bratir had his helmet on but I was familiar with his eyes. They looked older than before. “I know… that's why… why I didn't call myself a wolfblood.”

Bratir did not move, he did not know what to do. He was trained to kill wolfbloods, not his “own kind”. That and we had history.

I felt an inkling, a thought and a knowing. My mate was coming and he was angry.

I moved to the side, trying to stand up. I had better get away.

“Stay where you are, Kejyta.”

My movements were slow, inconsistent, and painful. I had no idea how Alpha M’est’r managed with all the wounds he had. “I've been stabbed, Bratir. I need to get something better to stop the bleeding.”

“You are not going anywhere. Prime Minister is going to want to deal with you when your Alpha is dead.”

“Joinervetti?” A coarse laugh left my mouth which made me double over in agony. When I recovered I carefully lifted myself up. “You don't know anything… That guy does not want victory for Vakusi, he just wants… it for himself. Did you even know that he led the Imbrue Battle? He's just…  power hungry. ”