Eternally Hers

Part Twenty Nine

Arabelle Warren

"Drive faster!" I growled. My hands were clutching the sides of my seat, so tightly that I was sure I would rip straight through the leather. I did not care.

Saoirse pressed on the gas without argument and the car lurched forward at a speed much faster than the legal limit. We were nearly at the house, driving down a road surrounded by forest, the trees only a deep green blur.

I heard the sound of tires against asphalt and the smell of burnt rubber before my mind could process that Saoirse had slammed on the breaks in front of the house and swerved into the driveway, stopping just before we drove directly into the front of the house.

I was out of my seat and out of the car in seconds, yelling, "Grab me a dress from inside!"

Saoirse disappeared into the house as I shifted mid-run. Shifts had always been painful for me, especially when I hadn't shifted in so long, but I had no time to feel the pain that spread under my skin as fur sprouted, bones snapped and elongated, and I transformed into my Wolf.

I didn't stop as I ran through the forest, dodging trees and fallen branches, lowering myself under large clumps of leaves and pines. Even though winter was coming and the temperatures were dropping, the forest still seemed full and lush. I had to bend and arch and jump, pushing myself faster and harder.

I didn't have any lycanthrope instincts, not naturally, but I had grown into my Wolf enough to estimate the miles I'd run, to run with the grace of any other Werewolf.

Saoirse caught up to me only minutes in. I glanced at her briefly, noticing how swiftly she ran. Her run was much less humane, more of a glide, and she made no sound. Even feet away from me, I did not hear a single snap of a branch, a shift of leaves. Nothing. She was nearly invisible in the depth of the forest.

It took just under twenty minutes to get within ten miles of the house. I didn't want to stop running, didn't want to waste any time, but I needed to smell Tess to find her.

The stench of blood was indistinguishable.

And there was a lot of it.

Saoirse sent me a sharp look and I knew she'd smelt it too, probably much better than I had. I nodded my head at her to tell her to lead the way, and she took off, tracing Tessa with her scent alone.

It took us three and a half minutes to find Tess, and a small, a very small, piece of me wished we hadn't.

The sight was gruesome.

Images of Macy's body flashed in my mind at the sight of the Hunter. Of the blood that stained her neck, her face, her clothes. The deep slit along her throat. The empty look in her eyes. The tangled mess of limbs bent at odd angles.

Tess had pulled herself against the trunk of a tree but just barely. She was slouched, back curved against the rough bark. Her face was bloodied, her left eye was swollen beyond recognition, a deep, jagged cut along the same side of her face. Her lips were split and bleeding heavily, nose twisted at a strange angle.

And her body... I nearly gagged.

Her clothes, the hunting gear she'd been wearing when she left the house that morning, was shredded. Blood was oozing so much and so fast that I didn't know where she was injured. It looked like she was bleeding from everywhere.

She glanced up at the sound of my paws approaching, and I looked at Saoirse. We didn't need to say anything, she merely tossed me a dress - probably the first dress she found in our bedroom - and I shifted and threw it on, not caring if Tess saw. She was in no state to care, either.