A Wolfgirl’s Pet Witch Ch. 06 (Patreon)

November 13, 2022

NOTE: And I got this one edited too.

As I mentioned last chapter, 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 chapters 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.

<< Chapter 5 | Chapter 1

- CHAPTER 6 -

I had never hunted like this before.

This wasn’t to eat.

And this wasn’t for fun.

Never in my entire life had all my senses been so narrowed, my focus so intense, the sense of urgency so pressing, as I felt in this moment. I was no longer a person, no longer even a monster, but something that surpassed both.

A tool.

A living instrument of death.

My thoughts focused on only a single goal, fixated in a way I’d never been fixated before -- to slaughter my prey as fast as possible, until they were all cooling corpses of blood and gore.

This wasn’t fun.

I wasn’t enjoying myself.

And yet, I was very much the embodiment of murder itself.

There were no thoughts in my mind, no concerns for the future, no worries about how this would affect everyone’s perception of me. For, it would affect them all. Knowing I was powerful and witnessing me butchering humans so mercilessly, even if these were bad humans, would have an effect.

Those who witnessed my killings would be traumatized.

Even Lucian was still frozen stiff when I ran back by him to pursue my remaining prey. His blood splattered body not having fully reacted to what had just transpired directly before him. The awareness that I could have just as easily separated his head from his body, if I were so inclined, rooted deep within his subconscious, but not having fully surfaced to his waking thoughts.

A sight that would no doubt become the contents of nightmares.

I was supposed to be the ‘good wolf.’

The one who had never killed a human before.

The one who abolished the yearly sacrifices.

And yet now, would the respect and goodwill I’d built up in the last three weeks be all for naught? Would they instead fear me, trembling in my presence?

I wanted reverence, not fear.

Respect, not terror.

But those troubles weren’t on my mind now as I snapped my turned jaws shut around another head, using the weight of my paws to separate the two, as I seamlessly continued my stampede. I had only killed about six or seven so far, and yet I was already starting to lose track, no thought to even count my victims as I slaughtered them mercilessly.

However, unexpectedly, a new sound pierced through my fixation, snagging my attention midair as I leapt for my next prey, my claws outstretched, my jaw open wide, everything changing in the blink of an eye.

A pure pristine whistle pierced through the pouring rain, coming from across the strengthening river, a sort of desperation to the noise before it was abruptly cut off.

Petra.

The shepherd girl my age.

Troy had been right.

There were more groups of enemies.

There was still danger for the humans I’d sworn to protect.

All at once my body twisted midair and I slammed a paw into my prey’s back as I shifted my trajectory, his body smashing into the mud, bones snapping from the crushing impact as I bolted in a new direction, all my limbs now cycling beneath me faster than ever before.

For, even as fast as I’d run previously when trying to get to Lucian in time…

It was nothing like the urgency that now propelled me forward.

This was the speed of an instrument of death.

A repurposing of every fiber of my being toward a singular goal, an experience unlike anything I’d endured in my entire existence, ascending into something more than what I’d once been. Something far superior. Something that was faster, stronger, and more focused than I’d been even mere seconds ago.

I sliced through the rain like a scythe slicing wheat.

I now was the scythe.

The tool of the reaper.

Mindless and efficient, I raced forward, leaping over the rapidly flooding river in a bound so large that it could have been ten times wider and I still would have cleared it fully. Yet, I still had so far to go. My glowing gold eyes could see Petra now, struggling against a man who had her by the throat, at least a dozen of them clustered around her, my folded ears barely picking up on their words.

On their humorless laughs.

The girl abruptly managed to kick him between the legs, his grip loosening as she turned her head to sink her teeth into his flesh, biting so viciously that she yanked a chunk of meat out of his arm. The man roared in pain, his arm yanking back even as his other hand stabbed forward, a glistening blade thrusting into the petite girl’s gut.

“Stupid bitch!” he yelled, shoving her backward, her momentum pulling the blade from her body as she slammed into the mud. “Just kill her! Bitch isn’t worth the effort!”

Two men descended upon her, blades in hand.

All my muscles tensed, every fiber of my body dedicating to a high leap to close the distance as fast as possible. My jaws opened as I flew upward into the air, a choir of sawing thunder erupting out of my throat as I began to descend. A blade was already at her neck when all my prey froze solid in confusion and fear, only for the man who was about to slice her throat to jerk away as his brain registered that death was descending upon him from the heavens.

Not a single one had managed to even so much as glance up into the pouring rain to understand what was happening as I slammed down on all fours directly on top of my shepherd girl, her stiff body so much smaller than mine as she was abruptly covered in the fur of my underbelly.

Only then did my roar become more than a cascade of thunder.

More than a warning of the impending slaughter.

Two of them dropped limply to the ground, visibly looking as if they’d instantly died from fear alone, their hearts giving out in response to their impending doom. As if I’d unexpectedly cast an instant death spell on the group, and it had its effect on two.

The man who had been about to cut her throat hadn’t managed to get far enough away before my jaws curled around toward him and snapped shut around his hips, his upper body and legs flying in different directions as I jerked my head back toward the man she’d bitten, my jaws opening to release the severed chunk of flesh, hitting with such force that it knocked him off his feet.

Finally, the remaining prey began to run.

Yet I didn’t budge an inch.

Every fiber of the weapon I’d become yearned to pursue the hunt, yet another part of me was tugging me to stop. Tugging me to refocus to the small body beneath me, to focus on the creature I was shielding from the rain.

I forced myself to shrink.

Forced myself to repurpose my intentions.

If only for a few minutes.

No survivors.

No one would escape.

But a few minutes wouldn’t ruin the hunt. Only delay it for an insignificant amount of time.

For, no amount of time would let them run away far enough that I couldn’t reach.

No amount of time would let them escape my teeth.

As my body became the same size as the girl beneath me, her head between my bare legs, I began acting without thought, simply doing what I knew needed to be done. A wound like this would need to be cauterized, but I had no fire. There was so much blood pooling out of her gut despite the pouring rain, and so I immediately dug my strong fingers into the mud, tearing at her shirt with my other hand as I began stuffing the wound.

Soil.

Soil gave us life.

Gave us sustenance.

But soil also saved lives.

Soil made wounds clot a dozen times faster. It would stop the bleeding in mere seconds.

She would probably get sick.

Extremely sick.

She might even die from the illness it caused.

But at least she wouldn’t bleed to death right here and now beneath me.

At least she might survive longer than a few more minutes.

A week.

Could she survive a week?

Until the night of the full moon?

Until I could sink my teeth into her and heal her?

Or instead kill her…

After all, there was a reason, aside from pride, for why my grandmother had chosen me…

My eyes widened in distressed shock.

My own train of thought suddenly alarmed me, having no idea how or why my mind had gone there to that possibility, my body tensing as I abruptly twisted myself over Petra’s body to focus on her shocked face. Her unfocused green eyes were wide despite the pouring rain, her entire body rigid, her normally tan face extremely pale, her lips looking blue.

She wasn’t breathing.

She hadn’t taken a breath since getting stabbed.

I knelt down without thought, pressed my lips to hers, and filled her lungs with air.

Her exhale was a trembling whimper, our lips meeting as I blew into her again, followed by another. Another tormented whimper, another kiss, another breath.

It was hurting her to breathe, but she had to breathe.

I pressed my lips into hers yet again, only for her to finally suck in a ragged breath on her own, her frozen body beginning to shake violently, as if only now registering what had happened. Her unfocused mossy eyes finally seemed to lock onto my face, her hands reaching up to grasp at my bare sides.

“A-Ariana,” she whimpered, afraid.

Not of me, but of dying.

I didn’t even realize she knew my name. Instead of responding, my focus shifted to a glint of metal close by, a tube a little longer than my finger, her dropped whistle sticking out of the mud. I couldn’t move her myself. I risked reopening the plugged wound, and I wasn’t even confident I was fully in control of myself right now. My body didn’t want to remain in this weak form.

My body was threatening to grow large again.

To become strength again.

I couldn’t trust myself to be careful enough in this moment.

Which meant, I needed help.

I needed their help.

The humans.

I reached out for the whistle and snagged it in my grasp, holding it between my lips as I reached down with both hands to cover her ears. Putting all my attention on the pressure I was exerting, firm enough to shield her from the sound, but not too firm as to crush her skull in my grasp.

And then, I blew.

The piercing siren that escaped was ten times louder than the call that had summoned me here.

I blew until I ran out of air.

And then I blew again.

And again.

Holding my hands tightly over her ears, her green gaze wide and afraid as she stared up at me, her body trembling violently beneath mine, I continued to blow endlessly. The world had again ceased to exist, nothing in it except two things.

The sound that pained my ears.

And the mossy gaze that kept me under control.

That kept me here.

A few minutes may have passed, or a few hours.

I didn’t know.

Time had ceased to exist.

Until I finally looked up at the small mob of men rushing in our direction, hurrying even faster as they spotted my glowing gold eyes in the downpour, seeing me straddling the girl beneath me, my body shielding her from the rain, my hands holding her head as I blew the whistle endlessly.

I finally let the tube of metal fall from my lips, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else as I focused up on the only familiar face I recognized.

Dante.

“S-She’s been stabbed. I stuffed the wound with mud, but it may need to be cauterized. Take her to Mr. Fairburne, or anyone who has a fire already going,” I managed, my voice almost breaking.

Why did my voice sound like that?

Why did I sound so afraid?

Like I was the one who was in danger of dying?

I knew Fairburne would be able to do the job.

For, while his son Troy was helping out in the fields, the large blacksmith was busy sharpening blades and fixing tools, his forge always at the ready during harvesting times. So he would be able to do the job, assuming no one else had a fire closer in the village. Cauterizing a wound was simple. Anyone could do it.

I could do it, if I only had a flame to heat a blade.

Dante abruptly knelt by Petra’s head and grabbed my face in his large hands.

The warmth from his palms stunned me, pulled my focus forward, pulled my attention back to the here and now.

His eyes and expression were intense.

His words confused me.

“It’s over, Ariana. Everyone’s safe. We’ll take care of her. You protected us all. You did a good job. You can relax now. It’s alright. We’ll deal with the rest.”

Why was he talking to me like this?

Why was he trying to comfort me?

I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t understand.

I hadn’t done a good job, I’d become a tool of slaughter.

I hadn’t protected everyone, the girl beneath me was proof of that.

And most of all, I did not need to relax.

Because this was not over.

“No!” I abruptly yelled, pulling away from him and stepping backward from the girl, everyone looking at me in alarm. My tone became more firm. More determined. “No, it’s not alright. And this isn’t over!” I shouted, abruptly turning around and exploding into a beast.

Racing for the trees.

Racing to resume the hunt.

There was freedom in this inhuman form. Freedom from the unexpected feelings that I’d only begun to experience while smaller. While weaker.

But that wasn’t me.

I wasn’t a weak little girl who needed comforting.

I wasn’t traumatized by what I’d just done.

By what I’d just witnessed.

I was a monster!

And I would kill them all.

Every single one of my enemies.

Every single one…

Of my prey.

Time ceased to exist once more, for a very different reason, as my entire being was repurposed to the hunt. To the kill. To the slaughter.

I would massacre every single one of them.

Not a single soul would escape my punishment.

It had already been close to sunset when everything started, but the storm had advanced the darkness.

As I mercilessly killed man after man, tracking them down one by one, sometimes finding them in small groups of two or three, the darkness encroached more. Until it was all but pitch-black, the stars and waxing moon hidden from sight. I slaughtered all my prey across the river, and then returned for the ones who had been in the wagon.

Many of whom had already regrouped, rushing as fast as they could to escape the hellish village they’d stumbled upon. The moment I struck, the trees were painted in their blood and gore in mere seconds, all of them dead before a single one could run more than a few dozen paces away from my first victim.

And then, I was after the very first group I’d noticed.

The group who had been watching us harvesting the wheat from the trees.

I had to track them down much further than I was anticipating, going extremely deep into the forest before I drenched the trees in their flesh and blood. It was completely black underneath the thick canopy and even thicker cloud cover, the men having no idea which way to run for escape, some even running straight into my open jaws as I butchered them all.

My white fur gave them no aid in spotting me in the lightless hell they’d stumbled into.

My gold gaze moved far too fast for them to register what was before them.

Their screams were muffled by the rain and thunder.

Cut off when I separated their heads from their bodies.

And then, I was tracking.

Rushing through the soaked vegetation to see if there were more prey to kill, neither hoping nor dreading what I might find, but instead simply doing. Simply being.

I was a tool again.

An instrument of death, and nothing more.

I ran deeper and deeper into the forest, my nose guiding me along the way, the putrid scent of evil men seeming to cling to the inside of my snout. To the point that I wasn’t entirely confident if I was still following a trail, or simply being misled by the stench that wouldn’t seem to weaken no matter how hard it rained.

This was something more than a smell.

Something more than an odor my nose was picking up.

It was true that humans smelled more potent when they were wet, but the rain should have washed away the scent. Or at least weakened it.

Instead, it only grew ever stronger.

As if this wasn’t a smell at all.

As if it was something else entirely.

Something my mind was sensing that my physical body couldn’t detect.

As if I had an extra sense.

Another nose.

Perhaps another eye.

An extra nose and extra eye that only existed as additional senses of perception.

Not in the physical, but only in the mind.

I could almost see the trail I was following.

Sense the evil within it.

Unexpected maniacal laughter snapped me out of my fixation, shifting my focus. I slowed down my pace as I angled myself more toward my right near an outcropping of rocks, surprised when the scent trail I was following mysteriously shifted too, a new path illuminating before me.

Sensed by my third-eye.

I could hear a girl whimpering now, my massive paws stalking silently forward, a man laughing again. He was tugging off her clothing, nothing but rags, her hands restrained together in manacles, her face bruised and battered. She was terrified but she didn’t scream.

For screaming wouldn’t save her.

It would only earn her another strike to the face.

My body grew smaller without thinking as my four paws shifted to me walking on two legs, my footsteps hidden by the pouring rain, my mind empty as I simply acted without thinking. Instinctively knowing that the man was too close to her for me to kill him with my jaws or claws, lest I harm her as well, in the process.

Another unseen man spoke up then, his tone annoyed.

“Bastard,” he snarled. “Can’t it wait? Get your ass over here and help me already. I told you not to let the lantern go out!”

I walked right up behind the first man, and reached around his neck, black claws protruding from my fingers, slicing silently through his throat. Blood splattered against the girl’s face, but she didn’t seem to notice the extra wetness coming from above, her eyes closed in the darkness.

The man gagged as I shoved him over, the fiend grasping at his throat in shock and confusion, his body twitching as the life silently left his dastardly eyes.

I was already walking away, my glowing gold eyes already focused on my next target, the man coming into sight, next to a couple of wooden carts with extremely high walls. I’d never seen a cart like it, both of them closed off completely, aside from a single small door in the back. One of those doors was open, and the man was messing blindly with a chain.

A chain connected to another set of manacles.

Another girl.

There were horses as well, at least half a dozen, as well as three other covered wagons, all of them currently empty as far as I could tell. There were only these two men left, one already slain.

I walked up behind the second man as he spoke again.

“Hey dumbass!” he snarled turning in this general direction, but looking too high, right over my head in the darkness as I stopped directly in front of him. “Get your ass--”

I shoved my claws up into his throat, the man choking and swinging aimlessly in front of him. His fist hit my head fruitlessly, not even so much as injuring his assailant as his other hand grasped at my small wrist, confusion and panic crossing his expression, before his body slowly stopped struggling, and finally grew still.

His weight supported by my fingers in his neck.

I finally dropped him, my gold gaze focusing into the wooden cart, apathetically noting the seven females within of varying ages, possibly as old as twenty and as young as twelve or thirteen. Eight girls total, including the one lying next to a dead body behind me, just in this one cart.

There were two carts.

Not a single one of them screamed, or even so much as made a sound.

But several of them pissed themselves.

Definitely more than two, at least.

Eyes wide in terror as they watched what remained of their lives flashing before them. No doubt they could see nothing except my gold eyes, likely not even being able to detect that I looked human in the darkness. I could have been an animal, and they wouldn’t have known the difference.

Each of them had manacles around their bruised wrists, but not a single one had anything to bind their bare feet. However, they were also all connected, a chain going from one shackle to the next, making it impossible for them to go anywhere unless they were freed from the group.

Much like the first girl had been.

Separated from the rest.

Turning around, I disappeared back into the darkness to retrieve the one who was only now beginning to realize that something was happening. She, out of all of them, finally screamed when she focused on my gold eyes descending upon her.

I reached down and collected her in my arms, holding her close to me, causing her scream to cut off in surprise. She was about my size, though far thinner as if she’d been starved, her arms and legs extremely thin, almost bony.

I brought her back to the wagon and deposited her inside.

A couple of the other girls grabbed at her as if trying to protect her from me.

Locating the end of the chain that had apparently broken, possibly allowing the girl to try to escape before she’d been caught in the act, I grabbed it and fastened it in place, bending the metal in my small hands to reattach her to the group. I then took a step back, looked them all over, and finally closed the door.

There was another cart to investigate.

When I opened the other door, several girls screamed, more fresh piss overwhelming the other stenches from within. There were fewer in this one. Only five young women. Plenty of room to add three more. Honestly, there was enough room to add five more.

Ten girls could easily fit in both of them, though it was obvious that the combined thirteen would be too many for one cart.

I looked them over for a brief few seconds before finally parting my lips to speak.

My tone was just as apathetic as I felt right now.

A tool.

No emotion, just action.

“Do you want to die?” I asked calmly.

No one responded, all of them frozen with fear.

“If you do not wish to die, then you will do as I say. Understand?”

No one responded. No one even nodded in acknowledgment.

I focused on the chain connecting them, figuring out which one was on the end, and then reached out to snag her manacles.

She whimpered as I began tugging her out of the cart.

Out into the downpour.

“Please,” she begged desperately.

I grabbed her arm in my other hand and got in her face, her entire body rigid. My voice was low.

“Do you want to die?” I demanded.

“N-No,” she whimpered.

“Then do as I say,” I repeated.

She didn’t respond, but I resumed pulling, the girl barely managing to get her feet on the ground, before the chain was tugging on the shackles of the next one, pulling her arms away from her body and forcing her to follow. She practically fell out of the wagon, barely catching herself as the chain went taut, giving her some stability as she found her footing.

The next girl was soon to follow, one by one, until all five were standing in the rain, now being led to the closest covered wagon, the interior much larger than the carts. Large enough to hold all thirteen of them in one space.

The horses hadn’t reacted to my presence and they still didn’t now.

Most wildlife didn’t recognize me as a threat any greater than what I physically appeared.

My camouflage was far too convincing.

I stopped at the rear of the wagon, tugging on the girl I was leading.

“Get in,” I demanded.

She couldn’t see anything, so she reached out blindly for the back of the wagon, obediently beginning to try to pull herself up into it. Without thought I reached down and grabbed her ass, hoisting her up one-handed, being careful not to be too rough as she stumbled her way out of the rain again. Followed by the next girl, who also needed help, until all five were within.

I then turned around and went back for the first cart with eight girls in it.

Spoke the same words.

Made the same demands.

Got them all in the covered wagon together, and finally asked them one last question just after I climbed on the bench to take the reins, looking over my shoulder at the slaves huddling together for warmth.

“Are there any more of you? Or only thirteen?”

They all grimaced in unison, all of their expressions intensely pained.

Finally one of them spoke up, looking older compared to the rest. Enough so that I suspected she was a little older than me. Maybe twenty or twenty-one. She was attached to the group of eight. Her tone sounded raw.

“Yes,” she whispered. “There is a girl that went with the bandits. And then, there was one more, but she…” Her voice trailed off.

“Dead?” I assumed.

“Yes,” she repeated almost inaudibly.

“Left for dead, or killed?” I asked seriously.

She focused on my gold eyes in shock. I could see her confused and stunned expression just fine, but I knew she couldn’t see mine. Because if she could, she’d probably be terrified of the lack of emotion on my face. It would have been far more unnerving than my neutral tone.

“Left for dead,” she whispered. “One of the men accidentally broke her leg. Said she was useless now.”

“How far away?”

“H-Half a day’s travel, at least.”

I didn’t want to give them choices right now, but knew I had to give them some reason to stay put.

“If I go get her, will you wait here?”

They all looked at me in unison, all of them shocked.

The oldest one spoke up again, her tone unexpectedly firm.

Hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Then stay,” I responded firmly, jumping down from the bench.

“B-But what about the other bandits?” she called out, trying to be heard over the intensifying rain.

“I killed them all,” I yelled back. “All fifty of them,” I added, only guessing at the rough number of men I’d slain, just before finding reprieve again in the body of a monster.

My mind empty, my course set.

I ran as hard as I could on my four massive paws, following the trail of evil from where it came, leading me further away from the village, further away from the horses, wagons, and imprisoned girls. Further into the forest…

Or perhaps, further away from its deepest depths, the trees beginning to thin, the canopies not quite so thick. I had never gone this far away from home, not once in my entire life, and it gave me a sense of unease, even as I pressed onward.

The girl was conscious when I found her shivering under a fallen tree, holding onto her swollen lower leg, her face puffy, her bloodshot eyes full of tears. What had taken their wagons half a day to traverse took less than half an hour at my full speed. I shifted back into my human form as I approached, with her not noticing until I was almost upon her.

She simply looked up at my gold eyes, and began panic sobbing as she prepared to meet her fate.

I scooped her up in my arms, and began walking without a word, starting to pick up the pace into a run so that it didn’t take me half a day to get back. Her sobbing shifted into something else entirely when she felt that her arms were wrapping around a humanoid figure, her hands in my soaked hair, and then her face pressing directly into the side of my head as she whimpered into my ear.

Covering my skin with her snot and tears.

I felt nothing.

No emotion, just action.

It took me nearly an hour of running as a human to get back to the others. The girl had finally stopped crying and was just holding on tightly as I carried her at impossible speeds through the darkness, doing my best to avoid stray branches or vegetation from hitting her broken leg.

And then we were there.

Without warning, I jumped up onto the wagon bench with her still in my arms, causing her to grunt in pain, only for her to be alarmed as I deposited her against warm bodies she clearly recognized. They had all frozen in shock from my abrupt appearance, but all began crying when they realized I was back.

When they realized there were fourteen of them in the wagon now.

I decided not to tell them to be quiet.

There was no harm in their sobbing.

Nothing to try to hide from.

No predator out there who would come seeking them if they didn’t be quiet.

I slapped the reins in my hands, not giving a damn about the other steeds.

The horse obediently began walking. I tugged on the leather to get the beast pointed in the right direction. It obeyed and turned until we were heading back to the village.

To my home.

How long had it taken me to get here?

How far from my home had I strayed?

Far enough, that I suspected we had several hours ahead of us, the cart quietly squeaking late into the night. Quietly moving through the impossibly dark forest, the steed obeying the reins without complaint as I guided it through the midnight maze.

After a long time, the rain finally began dying down some. The storm had been abrupt and violent, but was now beginning to weaken as it passed over us. Glimpses of moonlight began peeking through the clouds, the darkness becoming a little lighter, before that light was hidden again.

Until the frequency of light began to increase.

The periods of ‘lighter darkness’ growing longer, the canopy above still filtering out most of the moonlight.

And then, it was as if the clouds were no more.

The moon shone brightly.

Only a week until it would be full again.

I briefly thought of my distressing thoughts in that fallowed field, as I considered how I might save a girl I barely knew, shaking them off before it caused my emotions to intrude again on my silent numbness. There was something about Petra that pulled me in, something I didn’t even understand, and the idea that she might die before then…

I shook my head again.

No emotion, just action.

The sound of squeaking wheels and a neighing horse were what I forced myself to fixate on for our endless journey through purgatory.

The girls behind me had grown quiet after the long trip.

But then, we finally broke through the trees.

The slightly uphill village ahead of us.

The moon shining brilliantly in the darkness.

The village was lit up brightly in a way I’d never seen before, even during festival celebrations.

Torches were burning everywhere. Campfires roaring at the edges. Men with weapons at the ready. All of them prepared, as if they’d taken my earlier words ‘This isn’t over’ to mean something else entirely.

They were ready.

All of them ready to fight to defend their people.

Their home.

All of them ready…for me to announce that the threat was over.

I was noticed almost immediately, though it didn’t cause alarm like it might have if I were an enemy. For, even from this distance, the person holding the reins would never be mistaken. Not when my golden eyes glowed so brightly even in the bright moonlight.

“Ariana has returned!” someone announced so loudly, it echoed across the fields.

The response was immediate.

Every visible man began congregating into a group ready to greet me, and when we got about halfway there, someone else slipped through the crowd to stand at the forefront.

To stand ready to welcome me home.

My throat tightened when I focused on Rose, seeing her hands clenched together in front of her chest, her deep brown eyes full of concern.

Concern for me.

She missed me.

Was worried about me.

Even though I hadn’t been gone more than a couple of hours at most. Even though she’d seen me truly become a monster, killing right in front of her. The kind of monster they should all fear.

My eyes began to sting.

I fought against the sensation.

It wasn’t enough.

I finally had to stop the horse when we were only about three-fourths of the way there. The group was coming to greet us now that we were so close, and I wasn’t ready to engage with them. Wasn’t ready to have to talk to them. I couldn’t right now.

I just couldn’t.

Maybe they’d assume I didn’t want everyone to see me naked, even though I’d never showed any signs of being ashamed of my nudity before.

I jumped off the bench and moved to the backside. I had to pull myself up to grab the nearest girl’s manacles, causing her to wince when I tugged them out of the back so that I could get at them while standing on the ground. So that I could focus the strength in my fingers to pull them apart without breaking her arms.

The metal whined in my grasp until they snapped free.

The girl remained frozen solid, her bruised wrists trembling as she stared at me with wide eyes.

I began tugging on the chain to pull the next girl forward, trying to keep my voice neutral as I spoke to the first one that I’d freed.

“Get out.”

She did, almost falling, but managing to stay on her bare feet, as a second pair of shackles whined in my grasp. I didn’t have to tell the next to get out, already tugging on the chain for the third. The large group of mostly men surrounded us, speaking loudly to each other as they pieced together the situation, the older girl who had spoken to me being brave enough to fill in the gaps.

She thanked me when it was finally her turn.

I didn’t respond.

A few of the men tried praising me, or otherwise talking to me.

I didn’t respond.

The older girl brought up that one among them had a broken leg, and a couple of guys helped her get out from the front side, one of them carrying her back to the village in his arms. I didn’t look to see who the guy was, or if I recognized them, but I could hear her crying again.

Crying in relief.

Metal continued to whine in my grasp until I unexpectedly realized that there was no more.

The wagon was empty.

I was empty.

Unexpectedly a thick cloth wrapped around my shoulders, and a pair of soft hands tightened a shawl around me, enveloping me in her warmth and enveloping me in her scent. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face against her tan neck.

Rose held me tightly, not saying anything for a long few minutes.

Until finally, her soft lips were at my ear.

“Ariana,” she said gently. “Do you want to go home?”

My entire body tensed, my chest tightening, my eyes stinging.

Because I was allowed to go home.

Not to the warmth of a house.

But instead…

The warmth of her heart.

She was inviting me home.

And more than anything right now, I wanted to go home.

I sniffled and nodded against her neck.

She pulled away, wrapped her arm tightly around my shoulders, and began leading the way. Guiding me through the throng of lingering villagers, most of them men, all of whom parted for her, none of them speaking as their gazes remained on us.

I held the shawl tightly closed against my chest, the ground wet against my bare feet, my gold eyes downcast, my mind empty and numb, as I absentmindedly hoped they didn’t notice in the dim light…

The tears…silently streaming down my cheeks.

FEEDBACK: Okay, on Chapter 4, we were talking about humility in the comments.

That was the goal of this chapter, but not through physical weakness.

Instead, the goal was to show that, no matter how powerful she is, she still needed the humans to help with Petra. And no matter how powerful she is, she is still susceptible to feeling the weight of her actions.

It is pretty much impossible for a 'person' to kill and not experience intense remorse, if not also PTSD.

Thoughts?

Side Note: The concept of soil causing wounds to clot faster is a real thing (it's been studied and proven), though the risk of deadly infection is extremely high if that happens, which is why it is normally recommend to avoid getting wounds dirty.

But, if you or someone you know was bleeding out, dirt (and a lot of pressure) could literally save their life (they have antibiotics in hospitals to help with the infection, but it won't matter if the person never makes it the hospital).

It's 'last resort' kind of stuff. Similar to how applying a tourniquet is meant to be last resort, since you very likely will lose the limb.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter 7 >>