Blood Queen

Prologue(II)

Demons, was his first thought. So the rumors are true...

Lately, the people of Cyris had been talking about mentions of men who were part wolf with supernatural abilities popping up all over Cyris. What was it they had called them? ‘Werewolves.’ Yes, werewolves.

And now he had the unfortunate horror of meeting one in the flesh. Probably for the first and last time.

Presently, the ‘wolf-man’, with that cold, confident smile, called out in a voice that was commanding:

“Dre!”

The sound of the voice seemed to even stop the drizzling for a moment.

“No need prolonging this further. Just give us the girl.”

Dre. His boss. The werewolf was calling to his boss.

There were the sounds of movement from within the carriage, along with the sound of the boss' voice reassuring the Mistress that everything would be fine, though that one remained to be seen. What was fine about the situation?

Another thunderclap rolled through the dark sky.

The boss emerged slowly from the carriage, his tall muscular frame proudly held up straight, his shoulders squared, and his eyes — almost the same color as the werewolf's but a deeper shade of red— contained a fearless resolve. But knowing the boss for as long as he did, the driver recognized right away the hint of worry and anxiety in his gaze.

In his hand was a sword sheath embossed with a design of ancient origin, containing the deadly weapon that had slain a lot of opponents. The driver had seen the boss use that same sword so many times that if he closed his eyes, he could see every detail. Those opponents had seen the sword as the last thing before joining the dead.

But those had all been humans. This was different, and right now, the driver was having serious doubts about living past this night— in one piece.

“Avon,” the boss greeted coldly. “I don't believe I have any business with you.”

The werewolf, Avon, barked out a sarcastic laugh.

“Business? No, not you,” he snarled. “The girl.”

The werewolves moved restlessly, a movement that didn't hide the warning signals coming off them in waves. The air was thick with barely suppressed energy, making the driver feel like he was in an energy-storm.

The boss' eyes scanned the wolves, those eyes that the driver knew didn't miss a thing. The boss' hand tightened on his sword sheath.

He looked directly at Avon. “The girl— my daughter —does not have any business with you.”

That cold smile was still on Avon's face. “Everyone saw the Crypt come alive in her presence, Dre. You,” he pointed at the boss, “saw the signs. We. Need. Her.”

The boss' eyebrows, thin and red, arched up to the hairline of his equally red hair.

“Oh, we?” he mocked. “Avon, you just want what the Crypt contains, along with every other damn Alpha out there, for your damned selves!”

Avon pretended to think, a sneer on his lips. “Actually, ahh, you're right. I do need it for myself.” He shrugged. “Who doesn't want to be the Supreme Alpha?”

The smile on Avon's face slowly got replaced with an irritated frown.

“Now that you mention it, those a**holes will probably be on their way here, too. So, don't waste my time and give me what I want.” He then added with a small smile: “I might even let you live! Ain't I generous?”

“Everyone knows you're the worst of the bunch,” the boss spat in disgust, “And my daughter won't be used by anyone.”

With that declaration, he drew his sword.

Avon tilted his head, a small pout forming on his lips.

“That's bad,” he sighed. “I'll have to kill you, then.”

He smiled wider, his teeth now elongating into sharp fangs. The red glow came back into his eyes, and as the driver watched from where he sat, frozen, Avon transformed back into a big, powerful-looking wolf.

However, he didn't attack just yet. Instead he howled into the rain, the sound spreading in waves. The ears of the werewolves perked up and they all howled in return, before each and every one of the monstrosities bounded for the carriage.

The boss locked eyes with the driver and threw a necklace at him. The driver caught it.

“Go!” the boss shouted at the driver. “Take my wife and kids and run, now!”

With shaking hands, the driver slipped the necklace over his neck, and then jumped down, moving towards the carriage entrance.

The sounds of snarling and howling filled the night air as he guided the Mistress and her daughters from the carriage, aiming for the cover of the woods.

A werewolf with yellow eyes came bounding at them, pouncing so fast that the driver had no time to react. To his absolute shock, instead of the expected death of fangs closing around his throat, the werewolf flew back with such force that it hit a tree trunk and cracked it, then fell limply on the ground.

He didn't have any time to mull over this, but he suspected it to be the work of the amulet given to him by the boss. He looked over and saw the boss surprisingly holding his own. For now.

His sword swung in a deadly arc, mortally wounding a werewolf across its thick neck. He sidestepped an attack by another werewolf, twirling gracefully and impaling a wolf in its midsection.

The driver's eyes were wide as he watched the boss duck and s***h, dodge and hack, his every motion flowing into one another in a deadly dance. Even with the overwhelming odds, the boss seemed to be gaining the upper hand. All around him now were limp bodies of werewolves, some of them missing limbs and some, he saw, were changing slowly, taking back the form of humans; albeit very naked and bloody humans.

The rain was falling heavily now, mixing with the ongoing c*****e and blood that was spilling thickly over the cobblestone road. Avon stood some ways away, his red eyes not on the boss' fight with the werewolves, but on the driver.

The driver looked away from the chilling gaze and shuddered.

No, not on him. Those eyes were darkly watching the boss' wife and girls. He had been entrusted by the boss to keep his family safe; he wasn't about to break that trust.