Wolf Prints

The Alpha's Pet

Chapter 7 - The Alpha's Pet

It was snowing that night not so long ago, but the ground was red. Blood saturated the air. The snow was slick with it. A heady mix of both mine and his. The thick liquid covered my muzzle and ran down my body, matting my fur into a sticky mess. Every inch of my body hurt from hundreds of cuts and bruises, some worse than others.

            I was growling, keeping low to the ground, fangs bared as I circled my much larger opponent, step for step, move for move. All four of my legs shook from exertion, so badly I could hardly stand. I wanted to wave the white flag but we were way past that.

            I had finally made my stand.

            He was a monstrosity of a wolf, well over twice my weight, and so dark his fur could have been painted with coal. I must have looked like a kitten taunting a tiger, I was so outmatched. Somehow I had managed to hold my own, but it wouldn't last. It was time to finish this...or die trying. Though death might be a mercy at this point.

            I lunged, snarling, faking a hard left before pushing my paws off the snow covered ground and sinking my teeth deep into his throat. Skin ripped. Blood poured freely from his neck, coating my tongue as he struggled against my hold. That should have bothered me, but it didn't. My thoughts were consumed by my Wolf. She wanted this. She craved his blood with such ferocity that my human side was nothing but a distant memory.

            My jaws tightened around a growl so fierce it shook my whole body. I was ready for it. Desperate to hear his final breath. Instead I felt fingers grasp the fur around my neck and yank me from my prey only to throw me across the meadow and headfirst into a tree with such defining strength it snapped the trunk in half.

            Time stopped for long enough I didn't notice the figure looming silently over me until he had already been there for a while. He glared hard, his eyes so glacier cold a shot of fear forced me to my feet in a final desperate bid for survival.

            Only five words left his mouth, and they were spoken so softly that even my sensitive hearing barely caught them as they whispered against the wind, but they sealed my fate.

            You're going to regret that.

            I awoke with a deep gasp, the dream dissipating to nothing as I whipped my head around to take in my surroundings. I was in a small room, lying on a twin size bed. My hands shook as I pulled hair from my face, breathing hard but not getting enough oxygen.

            Breathe. I commanded myself.

            I was okay; I was alive.

            My throat convulsed as I swallowed, reminding myself once again how the metallic flavor that threatened to rise up from the pits of my stomach was nothing more than a phantom memory, but the fingernails piercing half-moons into the palms of my fisted hands were very real.

            As was the man leaning against the wall in a darkened corner of the room, watching me with his thick arms crossed casually over his chest.

            "Unbelievable!" The mattress cushioned my fall when I threw myself back into the folds of blankets with a sound of complete frustration. "What are you doing here?"

            The man stepped forward into the artificial light of a nearby lamp with a sleekness that always astounded me, even as a child. He smiled, but it wasn't exactly friendly. No, this was like the smile that the snake sent to Eve.

There was a time when my nightmares consisted of such a smile from this man.

"Well hallo, love. Nice to see you again too." He greeted me in his distinct British accent. Posh, I thought, but would never admit it to him.