Blood Hunter | Tales of the Wild #1

Chapter 8

A loud smack was all they heard in the room. Followed by a yelp. The vampire was struck down with ease, a red line forming on his cheek.

"Ow, ma!"

Her Eskrima sticks wove into the air gracefully that each onlooker would have concluded that the wooden sticks were a part of her.

She sighed, twirling them around and placing them on her side before walking to her son and kneeling, hand on his chin to examine the injury she'd caused. "You should have known better."

"I know," he grounded out, frustration lining his face as his cheek began to show bruising.

Even if it won't last longer than an hour, it was easy to tell that he was getting mad at her about it. They had been at the fields, training while the sun was still not up. She knew that the moment it was, the lycans would be out and she was simply not in the mood to deal with rage and hatred against her.

A smile flitted her lips as she placed the sticks down on the ground beside them. "Reminds you of your childhood, yes?"

That seemed to lighten up the mood. His son, whom she started training at sixteen, was always terrible with using the sticks. He always had more bruises than using his own hands and body for fights against her.

Until now, he was still slacking in his defensive forms which was why he got struck on the face.

"Two hundred years with you and you still are lazy," she patted his cheek, causing him to groan and move away from her touch. "Come on, we'll do it your way."

Another sound of groaning and then, as she predicted, he slumped down on the floor, arms and legs wide in defeat. "Are you going to ever let me win?"

"When I'm old and gray," she answered the usual phrase she told him whenever he would ask the same question for years. "Now stand up and let's fight with our fists before the sun rises."

Sebastien sighed. "Finally, something I'm remotely good at."

She tilted her head at him, knowing that it will get him riled up enough that he would start making better decisions. "Are you?"

🏹

A smirk can be seen on her lips while Red stared outside where all the lycans gathered for their training. The training itself wasn't entertaining but the bruise on her cheek was—she found it completely funny that Sebastien had managed to land a punch, bruising her the same place she had him on the face.

Her son did manage to finally learn from all his lessons and was able to hurt her.

She couldn't be more proud.

Unlike all these people who turned into their lycan forms as soon as the Gamma willed them to fight. They stood in their hind legs, fur coming out every spot from their skin, height ascending towards the trees, lips and nose elongating into a snout, teeth shining in between lips, nails on feet and hands becoming claws, as their eyes flashed deeper and brighter than the human color they had.

They fought claws against claws. Teeth against teeth.

All of which were simply nothing but stupidity. Had they expected to win against an army of Joseph Victor's this way? Had they expected they would be able to get close to him with nothing but fur?

Her thoughts derailed at the scent of peppermint invading her nose. Any joy she felt from earlier had dissipated and from the way her son stared at her with concern lining his features, she knew that she was back to who she was.

The monster.

She didn't move but Sebastien did, turning around to face the man who had interrupted their peace. Her son, ever the socialite, smiled at the intruder and even waved. "Hey, Alpha."

Her brow raised towards Sebastien who simply looked back at her and shrugged. "He is the alpha."

Red knew that she should do what her son was doing—being friendly and respectful of their titles—but she couldn't be that way when she knew every lycan in this pack wanted to rip her head off as well.

In this world, there were no friends that existed for her. Only one family and that was her son. He was the only person she allowed herself to be soft with. She still had apprehensions of letting him stay here. With half a mind of her just getting him back to their house, it was getting difficult for her to release the overprotectiveness she felt for him.

"Sebastien."

He turned to look at her. "Yes, maman?"

She turned towards the pack of lycans that were still training. "Go mingle."

Even when he was two-hundred and twenty-five years old, his bottom lip jutted out, eyes sad like a dog that had been kicked. "But—"

With a sharp look and a shake of her head, she had dismissed him. "Go."

Ever the sweet one between them, he leaned in to give a kiss on her cheek and walked away from them and to the pack of warriors training outside. She was acutely aware of how he watched them—mother and son—because no one ever figured that a monster like her would be loved and have somebody to love.

Joseph would laugh at her now—having someone to care for and joining up the team that wanted to eliminate everyone that was in alliance with him. Her grandmother taught her to show no mercy with animals and the man that kidnapped her molded her into a bloodthirsty killing monster.

Her head ached at the memories of her past. It was never a pretty sight to look back onto.

As the Alpha lycan she desperately wanted to avoid came close, her nose was assaulted by the stronger peppermint smell. What's worse was that he didn't smell as bad as a peppermint should. He smelled like the mint candies that she would be given at Christmas when she was still living in the human world and interacted with them.

She sharply turned towards the window once more, eyes trained onto the lycans that were staring at Sebastien like he was an interloper. Nevertheless, he talked to them with ease, a smile on his face. She was hearing him talk about how they should fight in their human forms and not just in their lycan ones all the time.

Pride filled her chest, her son thinking exactly what she did just moments ago. She taught him well.

"You two are not of blood."

And her body tensed at the statement. Of course, they would smell that. Even she did. "No. Yet we view each other as such."

On the periphery of her vision, she saw him nod. "I do the same with Torin and Gemma. I view them as my brother and sister."

"I fail to see why that is relevant to me," was her reply.

Sebastien was talking to the woman the lycan next to him claimed to be his sister. She looked disinterested but the way her lips curled upward made Red immediately notice that she not only loathed her but also her son.

Red knew she wouldn't be getting a warm welcome but they might as well try to be nice towards her son seeing as how he was the only one who convinced her to be here.

Risking their lives.

"I'm... sharing," was what he said, standing near her. "We have to start somewhere if we're working together."

She had to give it to him. He had a point.

"Here's my share, lycan," she turned to him, eyes narrowed. "If any of your pack mistreats my son in any way, I would leave you all to be eaten alive."

Elias glanced down at her. Even if their height was almost close to another, Red felt as if he still was looking down at him. His eyes landed on the bruising on her cheek. "You're hurt."

"I am not," she replied. "Acknowledge my threat and then leave me alone."

Instead of feeling offended she thought he would be just like before, his lips curled upwards. Not quite a smile but it was there.

She looked away the second she saw it.