A Wolfgirl’s Pet Witch Ch. 05 (Patreon)

November 12, 2022

NOTE: Since someone asked in a previous chapter, I’ll just explain for everyone.

Stories like this, that are ‘bonus,’ are ones that I tend to write on-and-off for a while, and then I eventually edit and bulk upload in a short period of time. The downside is that there is no commitment to continue the story anytime soon, but the positive is it can be a nice surprise every once in a while.

An unexpected ‘bonus,’ if you will.

I’m still posting a chapter of IDH tomorrow, so don’t worry.

Bonus chapters usually don’t affect my regular schedule.

<< Chapter 4 | Chapter 1

- CHAPTER 5 -

After my outburst at the village hall, where I showed my sincere rage and strength without killing anyone, it appeared that the people were becoming a little more comfortable with my existence among them, even if they were also still highly cautious around me.

Very respectful too.

When I first told Bartolomeu that I wanted to be responsible for Margaret’s punishment, he was extremely wary of the idea, knowing he couldn’t really tell me ‘no’ if I demanded it. However, when I explained my true intentions, making it five people total who were aware of my plan, he agreed to it. The official announcement was received with mixed reactions, but they couldn’t argue with the mayor’s reasoning.

In the end, no matter Margaret’s crime, her offense against me, coupled with the potential implications of incurring the wrath of the Wolf, were by far her worst transgressions, whether intentional or not.

So she would become my servant until I said otherwise.

Under my thumb, under my paw, and obedient with no questions asked.

I taught the thirty-year-old woman that lesson her very first day.

I wasn’t very nice, despite our pleasant conversation the night before. I wrestled her to the ground with ease in my human form and put a collar on her, having no intentions of trying to make her my lover, but very much deciding that she would understand her place in my house. She was a servant, and nothing more. She didn’t get to make decisions, and she’d do what I told her without hesitation.

That also went for obeying Rose too.

The first day, Margaret wasn’t allowed to walk on her feet, only being permitted to sit or crawl around. I also made Rose use her as a chair, something they both thought I was joking about when I first mentioned it. At first, Rose was hesitant, despite doing as I asked, but I reminded her that this was better than the whipping, and she seemed to become more comfortable with the idea of using another person for her seating.

Not that it was too much trouble for Margaret, since Rose sat on her lower back, putting most of her weight on the woman’s knees, thereby making it easy for her to remain in that humiliating position for over an hour at a time.

And it was obvious she was humiliated, but she didn’t dare complain.

Better to be humiliated in private than strung up for the entire village to see her shame.

The widow who used to own this house, prior to passing, only had one bed, but there were technically two bedrooms, the other one used as a workshop for her leathermaking craft. I’d already cleared out all the tools and put them in a shed, but I now intended on making it the maidservant room for the foreseeable future.

I had promised Margaret she could see her sister, but I never said it wouldn’t be without conditions. Which meant, when Mabel showed up in the evening, I made my only offer.

‘If you want to see your older sister, then you will join her in her punishment.’

Mabel accepted without question.

If anything, I suspected it was a relief to be pulled out of her normal daily routine. To be pulled away from the prying eyes and whispers of the other villagers. To have the ‘right to make her own decisions’ stripped away from her, and to experience the relief of just doing what she was told to do.

It was definitely a relief for her.

I could see it in her light blue eyes.

I shoved her to the floor and collared her too.

And then, I let her see her sister, who was currently lying on the bare floor in the maidservant room, exactly where I’d put her when I heard someone approaching the house. They cried for a long time, surprisingly tears of relief, and eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I didn’t feed them dinner.

Didn’t give them any comforts for bedding, though I did plan on changing that.

As usual, I left for the night, but checked on the house regularly, just to make sure everything was in order. I also made a visit to a man named Hugh Keates, who owned the only flock of sheep, requesting a mattress filled with wool, intending on giving the sisters the feather mattress as their long-term bedding, in favor of the slightly more comfortable one for Rose and myself.

As usual, I told him I’d get him whatever he wanted in exchange.

He only wanted one thing in return.

For me to never turn on him or his family.

To never harm them, no matter what.

Even if they somehow offended or wronged me.

He didn’t even care about his flock. Only cared about his wife, and his only daughter, the latter of whom was the shepherd for the flock. I knew Petra was my age, but had never really interacted with her, since she basically lived in the fallow fields, sleeping under the stars every night. She had a leather tent for the rain, a wool blanket for the cold, knife and flint for cooking, staff for guiding, but otherwise was exposed to the elements.

As far as I knew, her main source of nourishment, aside from the weekly vegetables, bread, and cheese she was brought by her father, was sheep milk. She was responsible for ensuring the flock bred and grew, since they were raised for their meat too, so she shared in what the ewes had to offer their young.

Of course, this year the fields that had been abandoned to the weeds were across the river, thus ensuring that she had almost no human interaction at all for most of the year.

She had dark brown hair and exotic green eyes, but was rarely seen.

I knew Mr. Fairburne had made her a metal whistle if she ever ran into trouble, but I hadn’t heard her sound it even once in all my life. After all, there were rarely any large predators who came too close to our village. Not when there was a monster lurking in the shadows. She certainly didn’t have to worry about wolves or bears bothering her or her flock, though smaller pests like foxes and wildcats could occasionally be a problem.

One that she thwarted on her own, using her staff as a weapon if needed.

In the end, I had no qualms with agreeing to the man’s request.

His desire was already within my intentions to begin with, so it was like receiving the mattress for free, even though my sworn word probably meant far more to him than the normally costly bedding ever would.

He promised to have it ready for me by the end of the following day, and would even deliver it to where he knew I was staying.

Which was perfect.

I suspected he would also be an endless source of ‘met requests’ in the future too, giving me whatever I wanted, without requiring me to give him anything in exchange. Aside from my sworn word, at least.

The next day, I gave Margaret and Mabel both permission to move about and speak freely, but warned them that any sign of disobedience would be punished. I then tasked Rose with keeping them busy around the house, both inside and out, so that they had some form of work to do, no matter how menial.

It was now their job to cook meals, but they weren’t allowed to eat until after Rose had her fill.

That rule would likely change in a week or two, I was sure, but this was a part of their training.

I also made it their responsibility to move the heavy feather mattress into their new room on the floor, in preparation to have the wool mattress delivered. I wanted it to be a surprise for Rose, so I sent her out on an errand to get a bucket of eggs, thankful that she was still gone when Hugh showed up with his wife, the two of them riding on a small horse drawn cart with the new bedding.

They helped the sisters get the large mattress into the house, and promptly left after requesting I not hesitate to ask them of anything I needed.

I promised them I would do just that.

Rose was thrilled by the gift, but even more happy that I was being considerate of the other two by ensuring they had a bed. That evening was the first time the two of us had sex since our new guests moved in, enjoying the softness of our new bedding, as well as the softness of each other’s bodies, and it was obvious the next morning that our true relationship had our maidservants extremely flustered.

Their faces were perpetually red all day.

Their blue eyes never meeting mine for several days afterward.

A feat of its own, since they were both taller than me, and I was metaphorically downwind to their averted gazes. When they did start meeting my gaze after a few days had passed, it was always followed immediately with blushes, especially since they had fresh sounds haunting them from the previous evening or morning.

Rose and I didn’t exactly have a scheduled hour for love, but rarely did a full day go by without us having sex. Largely because my body had awakened to needs that plagued me that frequently.

And so, the days began slipping by as we settled into a new routine.

I usually was awake all night, prowling the forest as a wolf or socializing with the men on guard duty as a naked woman, and often slept in the morning into the early afternoon, having sex with Rose whenever I felt like it. She of course kept the sisters busy, and seemed to grow much more comfortable in the role of being their mistress the more days passed.

After a full two weeks had gone by without any major problems, I was beginning to feel really great about our overall situation. Including my budding relationship with the other villagers, who seemed more accustomed now to my role as the monster who protected them.

Especially since, in the last week, I had spent a ton of time out in the open during the day, in my human form, due to the fact that I’d insisted on helping out with the spring wheat harvest.

It required me to split my sleeping schedule, with me catching a few hours in the early morning, and then a few more in the evening, but I didn’t want to be viewed as a lazy sluggard by neglecting the harvest. And of course, I made Margaret and Mabel work too, the first time they’d really been seen publicly since everything happened.

No one dared to bother them with me close by.

Most didn’t even dare look at their collars when they thought I might be looking from the corner of my eye. Especially not when I held a weapon in my grasp. But even if I hadn’t been wielding a harvesting scythe, it was still clear no one would dare mess with them.

Our village rotated the crops and fields throughout the years, always leaving at least one large field fallow each year, but wheat was the primary grain we cultivated. It took a full week to harvest the nearly seven hundred acres, involving a little over three hundred people in total. Usually one hundred people wielded a scythe, while two hundred others tied the wheat into bundles with a piece of stalk, placing them in upright stacks of a dozen to dry in the late spring heat before the threshing and winnowing was to be done.

It was hard long work for everyone, basically working from sunrise until sunset, and everyone was exhausted after each day.

Margaret and Mabel were the two who bundled my cut wheat and stacked them into piles.

They both seemed to find a sense of peace in the methodical repetition.

In the past, I’d always helped with that part, never being allowed to wield a ‘heavy’ scythe when I was so short and female. Now, no one complained when I claimed one for myself and went to work, my two maidservants at my side.

Rose helped out by bringing everyone fresh water for drinking, as well as bringing the three of us lunch in the early afternoon each day.

The first day was especially quiet, eerily so, despite there being three hundred humans working in the massive expanse of fields. I had no doubt they were all well aware exactly where I was, no one feeling overly secure by the distance, even those at the far edges seeming quiet despite the fact it would take me several minutes to run to them.

However, by the second day, everyone had grown a little more relaxed, and by the fourth day it very much felt like it had in previous years. Aside from the fact that I was cutting the wheat instead of bundling and stacking it, everyone else was acting more normal.

However, it got quiet again on the seventh day, now that our job was almost complete.

What had once been three hundred people was now only thirty, as we finished up the last of the harvest. Ten people with scythes, twenty more bundling and stacking. The others were instead working on threshing, winnowing, and storing what had been left out to dry for a week, the looming clouds on the horizon signaling that the rest might have to be left out for much longer to get a chance to fully dry.

Aside from me, Margaret, and Mabel, everyone else was male now, twenty-seven men and three women, and I only really knew the names of two of them. Terryn, my deceased father’s friend, as well as Troy, the guy who had previously been engaged to Rose.

When I found out the bastard would be helping with the last of the harvest, I asked Rose to instead assist with the carrot and onion harvest that had begun, teasing her about picking out the next toy I would use on her, but really just wanting to ensure Troy didn’t bother her when she brought everyone water. There had been several women who helped with that task, though now one guy my age had taken up that job.

However, I wasn’t opposed to tormenting the poor bastard.

When we started the day, I claimed the two men helping Troy, and had my maidservants take their place, making sure Troy had me on his mind whenever he glanced at the collars around their necks. Knowing he’d lose both his hands if he even so much as touched either one of them.

In truth, I’d gotten a little bored, and just wanted to mess with someone.

He was prime pickings for harassing, and I found myself enjoying this day much more than the previous ones, even though it was almost awkwardly quiet again as we worked. It was now nearing the late evening as we got close to finishing up, the ten of us with scythes having closed in on each other to the point that we could have easily had a group conversation if not for everyone’s reluctance to socialize.

But I was fine with that.

I wasn’t doing this to get friendly with anyone.

I was doing it to make a statement about who I was. The kind of monster I was.

No one was going to mistake me for a friendly monster, but I also wasn’t evil either. And I was willing to pull my weight just like everyone else. Pull my weight and maybe harass a few of them for my own entertainment.

As it got closer to sunset, my sensitive ears picked up on a somewhat unusual sound in the near distance. The forest was always noisy, full of snapping twigs, rustling leaves, and singing birds, as squirrels, rabbits, the occasional deer, and other wildlife scurried about. However, what was not common was the sound of squeaking wheels and the snorting of horses, which was why it stood out to me.

I had always felt like my senses were heavily muted while in my human form, but that was only compared to being a wolf. In reality, I had discovered that my eyesight, sense of smell, and hearing were all far superior to the others. No doubt I was the first to notice.

I decided to mention it to Terryn, who was fairly close to me now.

I spoke at normal volume, but the breeze had died down some, allowing my voice to carry enough that everyone seemed to hear.

“We have visitors,” I said simply. “Horse drawn wagon, by the sound of it.”

He stopped swinging his scythe briefly, everyone else slowing down their swing for a few seconds too, before he simply nodded and continued. No doubt they all seemed shocked by my sensitive hearing, but no one was concerned about having visitors.

We were a fairly closed off community, thanks to our werewolf problem, but we did get visitors every once in a while. About once every few months. Sometimes a merchant who got lost, other times a group aware of our presence in the deep forest who wanted to trade. None of them had any idea we had a monster problem that we kept hidden from the rest of the world. Relocating had never been allowed by the previous wolf. Anyone who tried to leave was slain on their way out, leaving the people trapped here.

Secluded.

Forced to deal with their predicament, rather than try to run away from it. Our village had objectively flourished though. I wasn’t sure of the exact number of people who lived here, but there had to be well over a thousand, if not nearly two thousand souls stuck in purgatory.

At first, I didn’t think anything of the wagon either, not having even so much as paused my swinging when I spoke to Terryn, and by extension everyone else.

However…

Then the stilled breeze started up again, the wind having shifted due to the dark clouds rolling in.

I abruptly froze solid mid-swing.

My body suddenly as still as a statue.

And it was clear everyone was far more aware of me than I even realized, because so motionless was my body unexpectedly, that the nine other men cutting the wheat stopped immediately, prompting all the others to grow just as still, in response to the sudden silence.

An almost painful silence after listening to multiple blades slicing through stalks nonstop for hours every day, for the last seven days.

Which was a problem.

A really huge problem…

When it might prematurely tip off the large group of humans hiding in the forest…

Watching us.

Waiting.

I immediately began slicing again, focusing on Terryn with an intense gaze, prompting him to resume his cutting too. Slowly, everyone resumed their work, not a single one of them focused on what they were doing anymore.

I waited about a minute before I spoke up.

Margaret and Mabel were with Troy.

And he was the closest one to the tree line.

Dammit.

My teasing wasn’t fun anymore.

My voice was at normal volume but firm as I finally spoke up. “Margaret, your sister looks tired. We’re almost done here. Why don’t you take her on home?”

The thirty-year-old woman focused on me nervously, this being the first time in two weeks that I’d suggested anything that sounded like it was optional. A clear sign I was putting on a front. She grabbed her sister’s arm without question and began hurrying over to me.

Too fast for my liking.

However, they were still a fair distance away.

Far enough that I had to address an entirely different situation before they’d even made it halfway to me.

Troy, the idiot, dropped his scythe and began heading toward the forest.

I spoke up quickly, my tone hard. “Troy, where are you going?” I demanded perhaps a bit too seriously.

Shit.

He abruptly stopped and glared back at me. “To take a piss,” he snapped.

My tone was immediately sweet, almost endearing. “Troy honey, we’ve been married a month now. You don’t need to leave to take a piss.”

Everyone froze solid, the sisters hesitating briefly before quickening their pace more.

Troy stared at me in shock.

He was stupid, but thankfully not that stupid.

He slowly turned back fully toward me and began making his way back to his scythe, clearing his throat after a second. “Never mind,” he managed, his voice a little strained. “Don’t have to go that bad anyway.”

It was a poor performance, but I was now more concerned about getting my maidservants out of here.

Just as they got close enough, I gave Margaret a warm smile. “Oh honey, help me with this real quick, won’t you?” I requested, bending down like I was aiming to tie a few bundles of wheat. Or stack them. Didn’t matter, so long as I was out of sight briefly, the tall wheat that remained blocking me from view of the trees.

The other men slowly resumed slicing.

Very slowly.

Her dark blue eyes were wide in alarm as she knelt down with me.

My tone was so low, I was sure not even Terryn could hear me.

“Go straight to the mayor or any guard, and tell them we’re under attack. But don’t rush. Walk normally.”

Her blue eyes were terrified as she stood up, trying to compose herself as she gestured for Mabel to follow her. The two of them were then walking at a mostly normal pace, arm in arm, as they made their way back to the village.

It was a far walk.

We’d be here a while if we waited for them to get back, and I wasn’t sure we had the luxury of waiting. I didn’t technically know for sure we were under attack, but I’d rather apologize for the false alarm later than leave them unwarned. However, the horse drawn wagon was drawing closer now, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was the same group.

How could it not be?

That would be far too coincidental.

Which meant, we didn’t have much time.

It was about to appear through the trees in the distance, and it would make it to the village before we did, assuming we all walked back.

I gave Terryn a look again as I resumed slicing, and he began moving closer.

Slowly.

I spoke once I felt like he was close enough, angling my head down so that our stalkers hopefully wouldn’t see my mouth move. I couldn’t see them in the trees, not without shifting my eyes to a glowing gold, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see us clearly.

My tone was a hushed whisper. “In just a minute, tell everyone we’re done. Blame it on the weather or something, doesn’t matter. Try to act normal. As much as possible.”

He didn’t respond at all, instead resuming his slicing close to me, until he finally stopped with a big sigh as he looked up to the dark clouds encroaching on us. His tone was almost too loud, but he sold it perfectly.

“Looks like the storm is moving quicker than I thought,” he commented, causing everyone else to stop. “A few of us can come finish this tomorrow. Let’s avoid the downpour while we can.”

It was a simple but plausible excuse.

We had a far walk, after all.

I immediately turned around completely and started walking back to the village, scythe in hand, arms tense, my farm tool held like I was ready to use it to defend myself. Ready to slice upward to split a person in half with my strength. A nonverbal signal to everyone else who didn’t already realize what must be going on.

Not a single man so much as hesitated to follow, quite a few of them hurrying to catch up to me.

Margaret and Mabel were a fair distance ahead of us now, but their pace was almost too slow compared to ours. For we had set a pace to ‘beat the storm,’ whereas I’d told the two of them to walk normally. Shit, by the time they reached the village, we would have caught up to them.

Dammit.

I glanced to the side when the wagon came into view, prompting everyone else to look too.

No one said anything.

Our cluster grew tighter and tighter, until I was all but invisible from behind, surrounded by men who were all much taller than I. They’d swallowed me up and hidden me from any onlookers, all of them likely waiting for me to speak again, wanting to be close enough to hear my words.

Two horses pulled the covered wagon, a man and woman sitting on the bench.

The woman’s expression was completely neutral.

Completely calm.

Her hands were clenched into bone tight fists in her lap.

She was terrified.

This was no longer speculation.

We were about to be attacked.

My voice was a low hiss. “There’s a group of men in the forest watching us. I didn’t smell them until the breeze shifted. And I’d be willing to bet there’s more of them in that wagon.”

“How many?” Terryn whispered in response, the others completely silent, their hurried footsteps careful as we avoided trampling the stacked piles of wheat.

“No idea, but at least as large as our group. Perhaps larger. They might just be watching for now, waiting until nightfall to attack, but I could be wrong. The threat might be more imminent than that.”

Surprisingly Troy spoke up, his tone serious. “Might have other groups. They could be ready to surround the village.”

Someone else spoke up. “Are they bandits?”

Another man responded. “Seems like too many to be normal bandits.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I hissed. “Just keep walking normally unless I say otherwise. You guys are blocking them from seeing me right now, so I might be able to make a run for it, without them seeing, if we can just get closer.”

Troy scoffed. “You’re going to abandon us?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey,” I said sarcastically. “Silly me, I thought you were a big strong man who knew his way around a scythe. Didn’t think you would be more worried about yourself than all the unarmed women and children waiting to be slaughtered in the village. Especially since there could be other groups waiting to attack, as you just so intelligently pointed out,” I added with mocking sweetness.

He didn’t respond.

I knew I’d made my point.

As the wagon neared the village, having made far too much ground on us for comfort, I saw a man step out to greet them. Someone familiar.

Lucian.

The well-built handsome codger, old enough to be my grandfather, but who had also become one of my favorite humans to tease. The same man who bashfully gave me the carved wolf head that I wore around my neck even now.

He looked like he’d just woken up, having been asleep most of the day, since he was usually awake all night like me.

He had his sword at his hip, one hand on it casually, but yawned as he waved to our visitors. Without thinking, I tried to begin shifting only my ears like I did with my eyes, feeling them grow longer and furry as I started to gain control of them as separate appendages, angling them toward the wagon.

I could hear noises now, within the wagon itself.

Quiet ones, the sound of metal sliding across leather.

The sound of knifes or swords being drawn from their sheaths.

The threat was imminent.

It was happening right now.

Shit!

With my hand unexpectedly grasping at the wooden medallion hanging around my neck, my gift from the very man whose life I now feared for, I acted without thinking.

Shoving my scythe into Terryn’s startled arms, I grabbed the polished piece of wood and tugged, snapping the leather strap off my neck, only to snap off the wooden ear that connected the strap to the wood.

It would be an awkward projectile, especially from this impossible distance, but if I could angle it sideways then it would hit my mark.

Ever since I’d become a werewolf, I had amazing aim.

I could knock a bird out of the sky with a pebble if I wanted to.

But now, more than ever, I wished more than anything for my aim to be true.

Please let my aim be true.

I abruptly darted ahead of the group at an impossible speed and put my whole body into the throw.

An impossible distance.

No human would be capable of such a feat.

Such a small target.

It would do no damage, maybe cause a bruise, but it would serve its purpose.

The piece of wood whistled as it sored high in an arc, before singing as it came spinning downward completely sideways, the sound likely only audible to my ears. The man was just climbing off the wagon, looking calm and collected, perhaps even friendly, as I heard shuffling from within, heard preparations for the assault.

For the imminent attack.

The man shifted his gaze away as he patted one of the horses, saying something friendly to the beast. All for show.

Lucian’s hand was resting casually on his sword hilt.

He hadn’t moved it.

The wooden medallion hit its mark.

Smacked him in the hand, causing him to flinch as he focused down at it in surprise.

I watched as his eyes widened in alarm and confusion, recognizing what he was looking at, only for him to focus in the direction of the throw. Focusing across the impossible distance at where our group walked, at where I was now running as fast as possible, close to the ground.

An impossible speed.

My eyes were gold.

I raised my hand and drew my finger back and forth across my neck, even as I sprinted as fast as my human legs could carry me, my body so far low to the ground that I was half falling, my momentum the only thing keeping me from faceplanting into the soil.

Lucian didn’t hesitate.

His entire body flew back a step, in reflexive tension, as he yanked his sword from his sheath and brandished it to the seemingly unsuspecting guest. The man immediately held up his hands, feigning alarm, his words immediately causing the wagon to come to life. Over a dozen men jumped out, two and three at a time, all of them rushing around to overwhelm the only man standing there to defend against them.

It was too late.

I was too far away.

I would never make it in time.

They would be on him, and he would be slain long before I ever reached him.

My only option now…

Was distraction.

To make them focus on me.

The monster that hunted them.

Instantly, my body exploded into a stampeding behemoth, my clothing bursting into shreds of fabric, my massive paws as large as wagon wheels stomping into the field, my body bursting forward ten times as fast with raw power and strength, even as the loudest roar I’d ever attempted in my entire life exploded out of my throat.

It was not the roar of a wolf.

Was not the roar of a hundred wolves.

It was the roar of a hundred thousand demons.

So loud was the sawing thunder escaping my jaws that dozens of women and children screamed in terror in the village, alarmed by the apocalyptic storm that was suddenly upon them, the clouds rapidly encroaching as if encouraged by my battle cry.

The horses carrying the wagon went wild with fear and jolted forward, the two of them trying to go different directions as they abruptly began stampeding ahead, the wagon and woman sitting on it being tugged along with them, Lucian barely having time to leap out of the way.

And yet, not a single assailant attempted to chase after it, instead every single one of them throwing their entire bodies toward me in horror, their own deaths flashing before their eyes.

The demons preceding me had not yet been silenced, my massive teeth bared, as my roar sent crushing cascading waves of death their way, the sound encroaching on them so rapidly as I came upon them that not a single one held their nerve.

An entire orchestra of thunderclaps overlapping, an entire tempest of wild destruction and raw power descending upon them.

For a monster was here to slaughter.

To slaughter them all.

And not a single one held their ground.

They all threw themselves in different directions at once, all of them now running for their lives, scrambling desperately for escape from the hell they’d found themselves trapped within. Weapons dropped, intentions forgotten, they were all running for their lives in a panic.

Lucian was no longer in immediate danger.

And now, I was hunting.

For the first time ever, I would kill a human.

I leapt for the nearest one, soaring high through the air as I came upon him. My dagger-like claws sank into his meaty back, slicing through bone and flesh, as my teeth closed in around his head, my snout tugging upward as my weight pushed downward, my jaw opening as his head flew into the air, blood gushing out of his neck as his body slammed into the ground with a crushing thud.

I was already rushing for the next, four powerful paws thrusting me forward, my teeth sinking into my next victim before the first head even began descending toward the ground.

Tearing the second head in my mouth from the body beneath me, I shifted my focus away from my next nearest target, instead bolting for the village.

For, most of my prey had run directly away from me, but three enemies were running into the village itself.

The others would be easy to track down, even if they managed to make it to the trees, but my priority now was avoiding casualties of those I’d sworn to protect.

Lucian had barely managed to move as I bolted past him as a blur of white and red, my movement so impossibly fast that I splattered him with blood as I zipped by, another roar building up in my throat as all my senses homed in on my next victim, who had barely managed to get a dozen feet away from me.

I’d never hunted like this before.

Never been so focused.

Never been so fixated on the hunt.

Fixated on my prey.

The world ceased to exist around me as I launched straight forward at my quarry, mouth open wide as I slammed my jaws shut around his entire torso, hands severing from their arms, legs and head falling away from the body as I continued my stampede with only the man’s chest in my mouth.

The human flesh barely had time to fall out of my jaws as I opened them again, this time tilting my head completely and slamming them shut around only my prey’s head, jerking it upward with such force that his entire limp body flew into the air, soaring dozens of feet upward as it spun like a limp doll, even as I shifted directions entirely and began running to my right.

The last one, the man who had been driving the cart, was screaming as he tried to escape my slaughter, and yet he might as well have been standing motionless as my paws reached out for him, as my ten black daggers, sharply contrasted against my red painted white fur, yearned to sink into his flesh and butcher him.

At the last second, my mind registered Rose frozen still with wide eyes in the distance, standing at the corner of a house, a basket full of carrots and onions in her arms, and my focus instantly shifted again. There were lots of other people all around, all of them frozen in place at the slaughter they were witnessing, likely most of them not having a clue it was justified, and yet I could only see one face.

One of the furthest visible faces out of them all.

Because I’d never killed before.

And she had no idea there was good reason to do so.

I pulled back my paws at the last second and slammed my snout into his back instead, smashing him into the ground with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs, with him sounding like he was choking for air as I retreated a little and lifted a heavy paw up, aimed for his legs.

For, it would be wise to have someone alive to interrogate later.

After I was done hunting the rest.

I slammed my paw down on his legs, a satisfying crunch reaching my raised ears, even as I rapidly raised my paw and smashed it down again.

And again, and again, and again.

So quickly stomping the bones in his legs in blurring succession, that he hadn’t even managed to scream yet, until finally an earsplitting wail of agony nearly ruptured his throat.

A cry that stirred something deep inside of me.

Something instinctual.

The suffering of my prey.

Without thought I flung my snout to the sky and put my entire chest into the chorus of demons desperate to escape, an earsplitting howl bursting through my entire core as the sound of dozens of wolves singing in concert, their notes overlapping, all escaped my single throat.

Truly, in this moment, I was a legion of demons from hell.

Howling in a ‘choir of one.’

Announcing to the entire world…

Of my imminent massacre.

The entire sky lit up with strikes of lightning…

And I was already running again, back to the fields, the rain already racing to the ground before the answering chorus of thunder had a chance to shake the water from the sky.

For, my howl had already done so.

Opened the heavens themselves.

Wetting my prey and strengthening their scent.

Not a single one…

Was going to escape my jaws of death.

Not a single one.

FEEDBACK: Well, that was a thing.

Thoughts on this chapter?

I do have more of this story written, and I do plan on editing those chapters soon for upload. So you won't have to wait too long for the next chapter, but of course I'm not planning on making this a main story anytime soon.

I'll still be posting a chapter of IDH tomorrow.

Chapter 6 >>