The Hunter's Wolf

Absolute Reign

Absolute Reign

The big black wolf, with soundless, light paws like feathers on the ground, prowls towards me sleekly.

The muscles on his chest and shoulders flex with every step he takes, and he keeps his sharp eyes fixated on me, his ears straight up ahead his gigantic head, and his nose twitching as he sniffs around my scent.

Wolves are tactical animals.

They test their prey, sensing any weakness or vulnerability through visual cues, and even through hearing and scent. Unlike other predators who rely on a short and intense burst of energy to secure their prey in an ambush, wolves chase their prey in order to find the right opportunity.

During this time, he is assessing me, looking for any sign of weakness, and this is just the beginning.

All of a sudden, a row of tapering, razor-sharp canine fangs rake into my view, dangerously close to biting a chunk out of my face that I have barely the time to convene my defence stature. I lose my footings, stumbling on one foot to another, and amateurishly, I fall flat on the floor.

He does not waste a second and leaps on top of my body, but before he gets to tackle me down, I slide out of his way, hastily jumping back to my feet and dash for the door.

Luck seems to abandon me when I need it the most; when Stephen barges into the room at the moment he heard the immense growl of his Alpha. I shove him in the chest to push him away, and punch Steven right at his nose for trying to grapple me.

My feet bolt through the hallways and through the corridors without a sense of direction, but the wolf is always not far behind. He snaps his teeth viciously at me, in hope to taste some meat in-between his massive jaws. Closing in to a stair that looks fairly familiar, I jump from the rails, no longer bothering to use the steps.

With a bloody mad wolf right on my tail, I will not risk having my legs mangled and getting hauled back into that room.

Before the sole of my feet touches the ground floor, time seem to have stopped ticking. The wind blows on my face for such a short instance, and I feel a sudden deluge of thrill rushing in my veins, with my heart drumming in my ears, and everything seems to go in slow-motion. I brace myself for the moment of impact and roll on my shoulder to reduce the force. Still, a few of my bones manage to crack during the rough landing, but I disregard them effortlessly thanks to the adrenaline that dulls the pain.

I slam into the double doors, and immediately the cold breeze of the night slaps me in the face.

Grasses crunch under the flesh of my feet, crickets and toads pounce away upon sensing the vibrations of my footsteps, and the crescent moon above is the only light source that never cease to illuminate my path. Glowing pairs of carnivorous eyes fix their gazes upon me, but none seem to engage or attack.

All they do is just baring their fangs, warning me to turn back in the distance.

I see a line of guard wolves assembling a border line to separate the open land, and the dark forest that I have set my eyes on, and my feet skid to an abrupt stop when their paws begin to trot around me.

The Alpha appears in a gush of a wind; a blur of dark silhouette.

The wolves part like the Red Sea, giving way for their Alpha as he enters into the circle that his warrior wolves congregated, circling me in a predatory manner. He puffs his breath, each of his paw-step a stalk that can sneak an attack in any given second, only giving a rise to the tension.

My palms curl to fists, the muscles of my biceps stiffening towards the revolving act. His plods are slow and steady, begirding​ in patience, until the moment when I lock eyes with him.