Trinity (A Werewolf Novel) ✔

Chapter One

I slipped through the trees quietly; nearly breathless. The sun had yet to rise, but the tendrils of its slow fingertips lightened the sky sweetly. The January air was crisp and sharp in my lungs, but I didn't feel the cold of the winter. My feet skated over the familiar wooded area, listening to what life remained around me in the quiet morning.

I planted my back against the body of a tree, reaching for my weapon with ease. I equipped my bow carefully, a thin arrow just barely between my fingertips as I prepared myself. I sat quietly, listening to the cool air travel through the barren trees lazily. Just in the distance, something shuffled timidly yet too clumsy for its own good.

I strung my bow and twisted around the tree lithely. My sight aimed at the creature; a young deer wandering silently for food. Its tail lifted and lowered as it stepped hesitantly over the floor of the woods. Deer were known for being suspicious and paranoid, yet almost gracefully clueless at the same time. I was fond of them. Though if I were honest, I was fond of nature and wildlife in general.

With a slow intake of a breath, I settled my aim on the deer and prepared to cause the least amount of pain possible. It lifted its head briefly, glancing around it as though it sensed me. I remained frozen in my position, blending in with my surroundings effortlessly. When it deemed itself momentarily safe, I began to release my arrow.

"Mila!"

I winced at how close the cry was to my position. The deer on the other hand wasted no time. It kicked off, attempting an escape in a panic. I twisted around the tree, following it with my aim just as quickly before releasing the string of my bow with deadly precision. Without waiting, I bolted from my spot, putting away my bow to withdraw a large knife from the strap of my leg.

I reached the deer to find it lying on the floor of the woods, kicking and struggling for what life remained. My aim hadn't been as true as intended.

"Shhhh, don't move," I whispered as I lowered myself to it carefully, lightly running my hand over its head with pity. The deer seemed to take my suggestion to heart. It fell silent, no longer struggling against the pain I caused. I had something of a connection to the animals. Sometimes, it was as though they could listen to me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered solemnly before drawing my knife over its throat swiftly.

"Mila, are you out here?" My brother called out determinedly closer. I cleaned my blade before putting it back in its sheath attached to my leg. I began untwisting straps that I'd use to drag the body back to the village and frowned as my brother walked into visual distance.

Greg was seven years younger than me and despite being related we looked nothing alike at the time, except for the eyes. He was thin and gangly, lacking muscle tone even though he worked quite a lot with my dad on hard labor chores throughout the village. His hair was ginger, which looked funny with his excessive freckles. He took after my mother in that area, scorned by the sunlight and pale as a result.

I turned out more athletic and curvy than my more petite mother. My hair was black like coal which shined blue under moonlight. It stuck out between my family members being than most were either redheads or brunettes. But all doubt of heritage was smothered by the Young family eyes; a jealous green of emerald fire. My father, brother, and I all shared the trait. My mother on the other hand held amber copper which darkened in the night to sable.

When I properly strapped the deer, I stood to gain Greg's attention.

"I was calling you," He groaned with irritation, glaring at a nearby bush that caught a hold of his sleeve stubbornly. I smiled as he stormed moodily towards me. He would be turning eleven soon and already he showed signs of that teenage doom and gloom. I liked him despite his annoyances.