EDITING || Surrounded By Wolves (HIATUS)

Chapter Three

Here we go, go, go, let us heal and grow.

Chan glared at the man standing in front of him with his arms crossed. He bared his teeth at the man smirking condescendingly down at him. The handcuffs clinked and rattled viciously against the metal chain link fence as Chan attempted to free himself once more. He wanted to rip the hunter's throat out and wipe that smug expression off his face for good.

So far, the hunter had electrocuted him at a voltage that was high enough to make his muscles seize but not high enough kill him. The hunter wanted to know where Chan's pack was. The hunter wouldn't divulge why he wanted to know, but Chan didn't care. His pack may have been full of bigoted idiots, but that didn't mean he was going to sell them out to a hunter. They were his pack, even if he didn't run with them anymore.

The smirk on the man's face grew, morphing into the smugest of grins as Chan continued to struggle against his boundings, his ankles cuffed to the fence as well. He wanted to get free of these handcuffs which were specially designed to not break even with a Mysts' enhanced strength.

They were inside some kind of large basement with a cement floor and walls. Fortunately, it was a cool temperatured room because Chan swore his body felt unbearably hot from the rage boiling his blood. The fence he was attached to was drilled into the ground by tall poles which reached the ceiling. The fence enclosed a small empty cage-like space against the wall, from where several faint terrified scents lingered. It was a cage for the hunter's conquests. A place for him to lock up innocent Mysts and torture them before either killing or selling them.

A low growl tore through Chan's throat at the scents. He could distinguish a few different species, but primarily he smelt wolves. Wolves, werewolves and lycanthropes. Many human myths lumped the three species variants together as one creature but the truth was that they were as different as the shetland pony was to the clysdale horse. Or the greyhound to the staffy. Although they were of the same family, they were not the same creature.

A lycan shifted into a beastly wolf-human form that loped around on two powerful hindlegs and sported a dangerous snout which was the culprit for turning the innocent (or not so innocent) humans it attacked during the full moon. The issue with lycans was that they could turn humans into lycans without the human's consent. Meaning that if the lycan happened to go on a turning spree, a village could become overrun by lycans. It is also the variant with the least amount control on its vicious beast.

Werewolves were the product of a lycan and a wolf pack joining. They were blessed with the beautiful full wolf form, but cursed with the lycans involuntarily shift during the full moon, as well as the aggression and temper generally witnessed amongst lycans. However, this aggression is abated by the calming inherent balance the wolf variant has. A werewolf can be born human or werewolf and could only turn humans with their explicit consent. While a lycan rarely retained any memory from their forced shifts during the full moon, werewolves with training could maintain control and remember everything from their forced shifts.

Wolves were born with the inherent balance between wolf and human and were the only variant out of the three variants who could shift at will at anytime. The effect of the full moon usually entailed their wolf side begging for more control and often made them antsy and tense if they did not shift into their wolf form. Their wolf forms looked like normal wolves, except for their massive size which could be comparable with the size of a thoroughbred horse. However, the joys of being a wolf had to be abated somehow, and that somehow happened to come in the form of heats and ruts.

Heats were something that affected omegas and some betas. It entailed the wolf becoming increasingly needy and horny as their body produced a sweet smelling slick which attracted the attention of alphas from miles away. An omega's heat is the strongest in scent and intensity and the omega often loses themself to the need of being marked and claimed by an alpha or beta.