Luna for the Wrong Pack ('Luna' #2)

Chapter 30

I felt a pull, like a magnetic force, in three different directions. First, the strongest pull was to go back and fight. That was my wolf, urging me to go back and kill, to protect my pack before it was too late. Next, was the pull to the voices. They were coming from everywhere in my mind, but somehow I knew where to go, where to find my brother and my parents. I used this to ease my wolf, telling her that once we got to my family, we could kill everyone in sight that had kept them from us, everyone that had hurt them.

She liked that, but personally, so did I.

Finally, the other pull was to go back, to listen to Sam and be a good mate, to be submissive to him. But that pull was small, and that wasn't about to happen. I wasn't going to stop fighting, I had family now, I had a pack now, I couldn't just leave them and go hide. I had to fight.

I knew I had gone into blood lust, but I didn't care. I had seen wolves before, while I was still a rogue, that had gone into blood lust, weak ones that couldn't survive, that couldn't handle the pull, the feeling of power, and would kill whoever they could. Back with the rogues though, usually that was only a few people, because blood lust only happened after a first shirt, usually, while the wolf was young and new and hadn't been trained to fight in wolf from, and after a few attacks, they would loose all control to their wolves, and their human side was gone. They would get killed easily, it was like watching a rabid pup trying to take on an alpha. It was pitiful. 

I wasn't going to be like that though. I was working with my wolf, we both were strong and we were both in control of what we were doing, more or less. We both wanted to kill, to see the life drain from them, to taste the blood and feel their bodies go limp. It was our natural wild calling out to us, our instincts to kill, and after all, I was raised a rogue,  so these instincts were even stronger in me.

I hadn't been running long when I smelled it. I knew the smell too well- all of them mixed together. One of them, hoeny and vanilla and pine- Annabell - and the other was of blood and sweat and fear - death. But there were other smells, those of other rogue wolves, mainly Aaron. That gave me hope, but it added coal to the fire for my wolf. One thing was for sure, there was fight between Annabell and Aaron, and one of them wasn't alive any longer. I knew that the chance of Annabell surviving and killing her own father, a highly ranked male were with plently of training, was extremely low, but Annabell had her gift, surely she had a little bit of a chance?

I kept running, still in my wolf form, through the woods, following the smells of Aaron, Annabell, and death. The closer I got, the less I wanted to think about what I was almost sure I was going to find. A few yards later, I stopped, hearing a male speaking not far ahead of me.

"She's almost here. I can sense here, she might even be close enough to hear me." I recognized his voice, Aaron. That only meant one thing for Annabell, most likely, but I refused to believe it. How could he kill his own daughter? Slowly, I began stalking forwards, following the sound of his voice and the stench coming from him. Not long later, I could see him standing with a few others in the middle of a clearing. I guess I was so focused on the scents I knew, I didn't even pick up on the others. I would need practice with that.

I stalked them, watching closely, taking in the scene. My eyes scanned around them. Four male werewolves, three of them were standing talking, while one was laying limp on the ground beside them. I didn't recognize two, but one I knew for sure, and I couldn't see the face or make out enought of the limp one on the ground to recognize him.

One was Aaron, the main one that seemed to be leading the others. He moved slightly and kicked something, I looked closer at it. 

Annabell. My wolf whimpered, but it quickly turned into a growl. I was seeing red, her body was crumpled up, her neck at a funny angle, it was obvious she was dead. And soon so would her father and his helpers be.

I stalked around, to the other side on the clearing without being noticed. I wanted to jump Aaron from behind. From here, I could see the male on the ground's face- and he looked extremely familiar. Too familiar.

I stared for a few seconds before it hit me. Isaac. That was Isaac, my brother.

With realizing that. I went completely insane, giving fully into my wolf and the blood lust and I snarled, jumping out, into the clearing, onto Aaron's back, locking my jaw around the back of his neck as I pushed him down, pinning him there. Without a second thought, I let my wolf rip his head off completely and fling it to the side. I'm sure by now my coat was absolutely coated in blood, but I didn't care. I stalked forward, towards the other two male rogues, growling as I did. They both seemed terrified, and one of them shifted, then the other. Both their wolves were pitiful, small than I was with an ugly grey and tan coat, they looked the same so maybe they were related. At least they'd get to die together.