Perfectly Imperfect

Chapter Seven

I was going to die. After everything I had survived thus far, this was the moment my life was going to end, I was sure of it.

As soon as we stepped foot out of the garden the pack began to shift. Suddenly I was surrounded by around 50 wolves of varying sizes and colours. Whilst it was already established they meant me no harm the sight was nothing short of terrifying. Fear had become a familiar friend at this point.

The scarier part was when a large wolf, easily standing over 5 feet, trotted over to me. It was Damien, the incredibly fluorescent blue eyes gave that away. He crouched lower down and nosed my hand. The wolf was a machine made to kill, pure and simple. It wasn't as muscly as the Rogue pack's were but he was toned, lean and he looked fierce. His eyes glowing that surreal blue.

I raised a shaky hand and gently stroked the top of his head, the bridge of his nose. My hand was tiny in comparison to his huge head. He panted happily and lifted his head higher, I assumed that meant he wanted chin rubs. I obliged and he whined happily, his tail wagging energetically. Okay, that was pretty cute. Chills shot up my arm from every point of contact with the wolf, and settled in my chest. Was this some supernatural thing?

And then suddenly he ran behind me, between my legs and nudged me up onto his back. I was now riding on the back of a wolf and hurtling at insane speeds through the woods as he jumped and ducked around various greenery. We weren't running for long when Damien came to a skidding halt, his teeth pulled back in a snarl as he growled menacingly. I could feel the growl vibrate through his body.

In front of us stood no more than 15 rogue wolves, again I could only tell they were rogue by the disgruntled missing-parts aesthetic. Damien slowly tilted me off his back, his eyes never leaving the row of rogues ahead of us. I backed away slowly, allowing the multitude of wolves from the pack to align themselves with Damien.

We way outnumbered them, but I did not want to be in the vicinity of the fight as I could only guess how vicious and wild this was about to get. I backed all the way up to the smaller wolves, who I presume are Tom and the children. Their parents had been carrying the younger ones in their mouths but Tom was old enough and fast enough to keep up with the adult wolves and so had been making his own way. He looked eager to join in the fight but it was clear that somehow he had been told to stay. He parked himself adorably in front of me, though, like a tiny bodyguard intent on protecting me from all danger. Although there was no doubt in my mind that if somehow we were attacked I would definitely not let him remain there. For now I allowed him to puff out his chest and soothe his ego that he had not been allowed to fight.

I looked behind my shoulder, scared that maybe we were getting flanked or something but that wasn't the case, or at least not that I could see. I studied the woods slowly as I heard the snarling sounds of wolves fighting. I saw a little glint out of the corner of my eye, the sun reflecting from something. I wandered over and grabbed it, put it in my pocket and made my way back to the fight.

It was already pretty much over, and from what I could see there were no injuries on our behalf. Or at least, no severe ones. The rogues were laid strewn across the floor, it wasn't pretty. Whether they were backup or just the same ones as before, I didn't know. But I guess it didn't matter anymore.

Damien returned to me with blood surrounding his mouth, matting his fur and dripping from his razor-sharp canines. Too soon for my liking, I was back hurtling through the forest on his back. The scenery was passing at such extreme speeds I couldn't make out any details. I didn't want to grab Damiens fur for fear of hurting him and he retaliating and so I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed my face into his back, making me uncomfortably close to the bloody mess. I could feel the rhythmic pulsing of his muscles as he powered through the woods. If I forgot the fact I was travelling at such dangerous speeds it would be almost therapeutic.