Chapter 77: Turn (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

Yet another week ahead. Enjoy!

Chapter 77: Turn - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/106782711


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Chapter 77: Turn

Seeing me get up, the big, dumb human flinched, his blind rage turning to doubt. He stared at me, baffled and cautious, wondering if another punch would finally take me down or if I'd get up again, baring my fangs at him.

"Stom! A little help here!"

Like me, the huge male took a quick look around, but the illusions-wielding human was nowhere to be found. However, the urge to laugh in his face at being left in the lurch quickly replaced the dread. The pup!

'Ria!'

Much to my relief, the little kitare, though still bound by the shreds of my skirt, lay peacefully on the old barrel lid where I had left her. That deceitful male turned out to be the smartest of them all. Not only did he leave the pup alone, he ran away when the opportunity presented itself.

"You fucking back-stabbing cowardly son of a bitch!" The big human spewed a torrent of curses as he realized the same I did. He was left here alone with me and the beast. Of course, in his eyes, I must have appeared one and the same, a strange half-Terr turn half beast, even feral, refusing to go down. A tad hurtful, but a truth I couldn't deny, not when his hesitation swelled my broken chest with pride.

There was fear in his eyes.

But not foolish to take it as my win, as him tucking his tail between his legs, I bared my fangs at him, bracing myself to meet his attacks or even pounce back.

»What are you waiting for?!«

A daring challenge, considering the state I was in. But the beast was to blame. It just didn't let me back down, no matter what.

"All right, it looks like it's just you and me," the big, stupid human grunted instead of running away like his pack mate, fists at the ready. But then, as I strained my senses on him, girding myself for his blows, the male winced and held up his index fingers. "With that cowardly fucker gone, how about we call it a day?"

»Huh?«

'Was he serious?'

After all that, he just wanted to call it quits? Did he expect me to shake hands with him and then go our separate ways? Was it some stupid game for him? Didn't the lives of his pack mates mean anything to him? Well, since he had no problem treating me like an object and selling me back to my "master", I guess he didn't give too much of a shit about them either. In the end, it was his life that mattered the most to him.

What a cowardly pack leader.

»CRAVEN!«

"Is that a yes or a no?" the pride-less male asked, a little too calmly for my taste - my heart was racing, my blood boiling with fury, but not his? "Beast talk is not my thing."

'Come on, what are you waiting for, you beast? Nod.'

Sure, it went against all my instincts - I should pounce and show him who's the hunter and who's the prey, not acknowledging his strength, putting him on par with me - but I was in no shape to worry about my pride and play a pissing contest with him.

»Craven ... but strong,« I growled, tossing my head at the pup. 'What about Ria?'

He followed my motion to the old barrel lid behind him, his eyes widening slightly upon realization. "Ah, the brat - wasn't interested in her in the first place. Take her and go."

'Again, just like that?' I wanted to do so very, very badly, but something just rubbed me the wrong way.

Two of his pack mates were lying at our feet, dead, and the third...

'Wait! The illusionist. What if...'

Startled, I looked at the pup again, afraid to find her to be a mere illusion of what I wanted to see. But she was still there, solid as the big male offering me the way out. Was she real, though? How did the illusions work? How could I tell the real from the lie?

»The smell.«

'Illusions had no smell, did they?'

Or so I hoped.

Annoyingly, this back alley was not the cleanest. The air was thick with the stench of rotting food, mold, mud, piss, and, last but not least, fresh blood. The smell turned my stomach and harshly reminded me that I now had the blood of two more people on my hands. But that was it, just more guilt, not a way to find out if the pup was still there where I left her.

'Hearing!'

With hope sparked by a sudden idea, I pricked up my good ear and listened.

'Oh, thank goodness it's Ria,' I breathed a sigh of relief. There on the pop of the barrel lid really lay the pup, or at least a good enough illusion of the little kitare that I could hear her heartbeat, her faint breathing.

"Eh, do we have a deal? Although, I gotta admit, you're a damn tough cunt - I guess worth the money they're offering for you."

'Who? Who offered it? How did they find me so quickly?'

»You smell of bullshit. Talk too much.«

No matter how much I wanted to find out more, something just didn't add up, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. That weird feeling at the back of my neck was back, but there was no one behind me but the wall.

"Is that why? I mean, the beastly shit? I hear the Terr'dens go wild when they try to shift."

'What? They do?'

»Shut up.« I growled back, standing still, sizing up the male, as wary of him as he was of me, if not more so.

Was he trying to talk me to death, hoping to drop dead? If so, he was damn mistaken. The longer I stood there, the better I felt. The beast might not have done much in terms of my size, or strength nor did it take much of my sanity, but the mana in my body was swirling around my heart like it did back then, flowing along my veins in quantities that were impossible to ignore, encircling my wounds. I may not have been a mage versed in magic, but I'd have to be dense not to realize that the beast was aiding my regeneration.

And the stupid human didn't seem blind to it either. He saw my bleeding stop; me getting my strength back.

So what was his goal? Talk me deaf?

'Shit!'

Immediately, I perked up my good ear once more, turning my focus away from my domain to my hearing. As good as the weave [Spatial Domain] was, I had only just gotten a second circle on it. Bloody heck, I hadn't even read what it was supposed to allow me to do. 

On the other hand, my ears - for almost a year and a half, I was forced to listen to the painful cries, squeaks of rats and dripping water in the storm drains beneath my feet. Like everyone else there, I learned to be terrified of the sound of the insane man's footsteps. So when along with the noise of the street coming from the back alley exit, the breathing and heartbeat of the stupid loud-mouthed man, the cautious footsteps reached my ears, I froze stricken with fear, my eyes fixed on an empty part of the back alley to my right.

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