Heart of a Dreadwolf

Historical Werewolf Romance

Due to copy/paste formatting problems I was forced to take down most of the story. This is just the opening scene. The full story is on Amazon however for those of you wanting to finish the story.

Heart of a Dreadwolf

By

Marie Pennington

© 2016 Dawn Smith ©2016 Cover Art by James Price

Prologue

Aztec Empire 1515...

Priest Itzcoatl, looked down at the heart that still beat with a  ferociousness for survival. Smiling he reached down to rip it from his latest victim's chest. A demented laugh escaped his lips as he claimed his prize and held it aloft, "Praise the Gods, for they bless us daily to enrich our lives."

Turning from the crowd, with a gleam in his eye, he waited for the crowd's reaction. Many cheered in hopes of appeasing the Gods, while others talked in hushed voices speaking against the sacrifices.

Fools! Priest Itzcoatl thought. The Aztecs were fools to believe that the Gods spoke to him, requesting he murder their neighboring tribesmen, and women. Not that Priest didn't believe in the Gods, but he had never spoken to them. They were no more than a means to gain followers for his own wicked heart's desire. And that desire was nothing more then to rape, and kill whenever he felt the need. It was brilliant really, he could do as he pleased, and these fools believed every word he uttered in the name of the Gods.

A large brown wolf howled. It was a long, eerie cry that emanated from its throat. It was next in line for the priest's obsidian dagger. Holding up his knife, the moon glinted from the blade, and Priest Itzcoatl smiled out at the crowd.

The sharp metallic smell of fresh blood filled the air, entering the nostrils of everyone present as the soldier pulled another young wolf pup the steps to the alter. Held firmly by the scruff of its neck, the wolf snapped his powerful jaws, and growled at the guard holding him.The antagonist's grip tightened, reinforcing his hold. The wolf squirmed, twisting his head violently from side to side. It was a futile attempt for the young beast to fight against the warrior, but the wolf didn't up easily.

"No..." Tozi wailed reaching for her beloved wolf, as she tried to get loose from the warrior that held her. She had raised the wolf from a small pup, after finding him trapped in an Aztec cage.She had taken him home, not knowing he would eventually become a sacrifice for Priest Itzcoatl, and his Aztec followers.

The antagonist's grip on Tozi's arm tightened with her struggles. She failed miserably, striving to be with her wolf. The beast's jaws snapped at the man that held Tozi. Its sharp fangs barely missed the guard that held his master. His teeth came so close they grazed the man's hand.

The large warrior jerked Tozi in an attempt to avoid the wolf's fangs causing her to fall on the steps. Landing at the feet of Priest Itzcoatl, she screamed out in pain. Rubbing her elbow, she glared at both men. Terror took hold of her senses, as she stared her fate in the eyes. The priest's gaze was glazed over with the sheer joy he felt at killing his victims. He truly was enjoying the events of the night. The moonlight reflected on Priest Itzcoatl's obsidian dagger.

Tozi swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to stay brave in the face of death. Her eyes opened wide with fright. Her heart beating her ears in a fast wild tempo that added to her fear. Her breathing become radical with her hysteria. Terrorized, and frantic to get away, she scrambled to her feet. The warriors hand came down hard, connecting with her skull with a sickening thud.

The sacrificial knife had been used many times to cut into a victim's chest to expose the still beating hearts of the priest's newest offering. He gloried in knowing he could kill at any time, and he had the Gods to thank for that. Or rather he had the Gods to blame for the murders anyway. Whether Itzcoatl killed his victims in front of the Aztecs or at his own private hideaway mattered not to the priest.