Chapter 12: The Strange Attack
1255 Words
Time went by, and still, the house failed to reveal itself to Aria and Asher.
“I don’t understand, Aria. Why isn’t it here yet?” asked Asher.
“I really don’t know. I’m as confused as you are. Maybe it didn’t find us worthy after all,” Aria sighed.
“Maybe it’s because you have a werewolf shifted with you, and it probably reveals itself to witches and sorceresses,” Asher said as he ran his palm through his hair.
Aria scoffed. “Yeah... yeah, I think you’re right. For once.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.”
As they moved forward, they paused at the sound of footsteps, broken twigs, and rustling leaves. Asher turned, his primal instinct instantly shifted as he sniffed, trying to catch the scent of the animal or human behind them.
“Do you get something?” Aria asked, her voice low.
“Yeah. It’s a strange scent. But I can tell it’s human, it’s just masking its scent with something powerful. And it’s not allowing me to point to where it is,” Asher struggled.
“Masking, huh? Okay. Let me try.”
Aria closed her eyes, focusing her senses on the surrounding environment. She raised her hands, and her fingers trembled with anticipation.
“Revelare absconditus,” she whispered, her voice carrying on the wind. “Show me the hidden one, the shadow that lurks beyond sight.”
As she spoke, her hands began to weave intricate patterns in the air. The trees seemed to lean in, their branches tangling together as if to form a cage.
But a sudden whoosh cut through the air before Aria could complete the spell. An arrow shot from a distance, hurtling towards Aria’s outstretched hand.
Asher’s eyes snapped towards the arrow, his gaze tracking its trajectory. In an instant, he transformed, his body contorting into that of a wolf. His fur stood on end as he let out a thunderous growl. With a burst of speed, he sprinted in the direction of the arrow, his paws pounding against the earth.
Aria's eyes snapped open, her gaze following Asher’s transformation. She watched, frozen, as he disappeared into the underbrush, the sound of his growls fading into the distance.
As Asher’s wolf form burst through the underbrush, his jaws snapping wildly as he descended upon the stranger. The man, a hunter from the village of Brindlemark, stood frozen, his eyes wide with terror. Asher’s teeth sank into the hunter’s arm, and with a fierce growl, he lifted the man off the ground.
The hunter’s bow and quiver scattered to the ground as Asher dragged him through the dense foliage. Finally, Asher burst into the clearing, the hunter flailing in his jaws. Aria stood, her hand clutched around the arrow shaft protruding from her palm, her face pale with pain.
Asher hurled the hunter into the open, where he landed with a thud. Asher’s wolf form loomed over the hunter, his eyes blazing with fury. He raised a paw, ready to strike, but Aria’s weak voice stayed him.
“Asher, no!” she cried, stumbling forward. “Don’t kill him!”
Asher’s wolf hesitated, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Slowly, he backed away from the hunter, his eyes never leaving the man’s cowering form.
As Aria approached, Asher’s body began to shift, his limbs contorting as he transformed back into his human form. He stood, his chest still heaving, his eyes burning with anger.
“Why?” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Why did you stop me?”
Aria ignored him and faced the hunter. “Why did you attack me?”
The man spat. “You disgusting creature. You shouldn’t walk on the grounds of this earth, you must be destroyed.”
Asher rushed to him as he pulled him by his hair, his palm folded into a fist. “Watch your mouth.”
The hunter laughed. “And why is a werewolf seen with such evil being? Aren’t you supposed to be a human protector? I mean, the rumors seem to be true. Never in my life did I think I would encounter a real werewolf, and I’ve been a hunter all my life. But from the stories told to us by our elders, werewolves are human protectors. So, why do you protect a witch?”
“Because you attacked her first,” Asher answered. His folded palm raised up, as he was about to hit the hunter, Aria stopped him.
“Don’t hit him,” she said as she raised her wounded palm to her face, the wounds healing. “Who are you?”
The hunter ignored her, his eyes fixed on the spot which he was pulled out from, but Asher wasn’t pleased with his attitude. He pulled the hunter by his hair again.
“Speak,” he growled.
“I am Gareth Ashwood, and I am a hunter. The best from my kingdom, Brindlemark,” he answered.
“Hmm—what? Brindlemark?” Aria turned and pointed. “So, that’s where we’re headed.”
“I won’t let a witch set foot into my beloved peaceful kingdom,” Gareth said.
“And who said you would be living here... alive?” Aria walked closer to him, squatted, and smirked.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Asher said, his voice low.
Aria burst out laughing as she stood up, patting Asher on his hand. “Let him go. Tie him up to a tree and let’s leave.”
Asher grabbed Gareth and dragged him to a tree. He pulled out the hunter’s belt from his waist as he tied both his arms wrapped around the tree.
“You haven’t gotten rid of me just yet,” Gareth chuckled.
“If we wanted to, you would’ve been long gone. Believe me,” Aria smiled. “Come on, Asher. Let’s go.”
“Listen to me, and listen good,” Asher whispered, his eyes dark and fixed on the hunters with rage. “If you ever attack her again, I will make you suffer and watch you as you die a slow and horrible death.”
“Why are you this protective of a witch—”
“Don’t you speak about her in that tone. Ever,” Asher cut in.
Gareth's brows furrowed. “You... you love her?”
In that instant, Asher punched him.
“Asher, stop it,” Aria called out. “Let’s leave now.”
Gareth spat out blood, his mouth stretched in a wild grin. “Of course, you love her. Let me guess, you’ve imprinted on her? Fated mates?”
Asher raised his fist to punch him again, but Aria intervened this time. She grabbed Asher by his hand as it was raised, stopping him from hitting the hunter again.
“I said let’s go,” she said.
“Yeah, leave. Open your eyes, werewolf, you’re probably under the witches' spell,” Gareth chuckled.
Aria pulled Asher as they walked away from the hunter tied to the tree, still shouting that Asher stay away from Aria.
“What was all that about?” Aria asked as they got further into the next kingdom.
“Don’t mind anything that comes out of that hunter’s mouth. He’s probably drunk,” Asher shrugged.
“He didn’t seem intoxicated to me—”
“Well, he was.”
“What did he mean by you imprinted on me?” Aria asked as she stopped walking.
- Writer
