Devoured by the Cursed Alpha Twins.

4. Stranded.

The voices in my head are screaming at me to stop, to head back home to my crazy sister and my passive father. We are to head out to the field for some gathering later this evening. That is why Jenny was freaking out about the dress. She has been obsessing about that damn party all damn month. How she would do her hair and wear her makeup.

I did not even bother to look for a dress. Father is going to yell at me to follow my sister and I am going to sigh and tag along then sneak out of there later and go sit down by the water fountain or head out to the forest by myself away from all the chaos.

Heavens knows I want nothing to do with the other werewolves because they can be so mean sometimes.

I follow the trail of blood, with bated breath, I wonder where it would lead me.

I look back, the path is now long gone and I am just pushing through short bushes and shrubs. The air smells like pine grass and the stale smell of still water, rotten fruits and small dead animals.

I wrinkle my nose. The ground is soggy with water; there have been rainfall these summer afternoons. The downpour has made puddles, in find my feet soaked with water. Grateful, smart thinking to opt for a skirt cause now I do not need to worry about my pants getting soaked.

My skin is dappen with moisture from pushing through wet bushes and leaves. I feel icky all over and really want to turn back.

Cold dread settles in the pit of my stomach when I reach a dead end.

The trail of blood suddenly disappears. It is trickles to a stop and is gone just like that.

“Where did you go?” I whisper into the quiet space.

I hear faint rustling from my left and freeze. Then nothing. I hold still for a brief moment, hoping and waiting.

For what exactly?

I turn back and notice that the bushes have closed up so I have no idea which direction I just came out from. This place is like a maze and it is so far out of Stoneridge territory, I am close to outside the borders.

Tension rises in the pit of my belly. I feel the urge to run as fast as my legs can take me.

I hear a growl to my left.

Now fear grips me by the throat. Despite my bravery I am not the strongest fighter, in fact a battle between Jenny and myself, Jenny would probably take me down despite I have more weight that her but she has more training and trust me Jenny fights dirty. I have been there.

The faint growl hits my ears again, I turn in the opposite direction and bolt out of there so fast. Pushing through shrubs and bushes, not minding being scratched by the branches that latch onto my shirt.

The sinking feeling that I felt earlier in the pit of my stomach has now become a raging inferno, it is chasing me down. In my mind I curse my curious nature for putting me in this scary position.

I keep pushing through the bushes with no idea where I am going to. I lost the trail of blood and the trail back home. I keep pushing through though, trying my find my way back to anything familiar I passed.

It feels like an eternity, and It was just two minutes or running wilding in no direction. I burst out in a small opening. There are large trees around, a big open space littered with weeds and the grass is brown, the earth looks scorched and worst of all there are no sounds of animals at all.

I look around, I have never ventured this far out in the marshes before. Most werewolves from my pack barely reach these parts. We like to run the forest, mother earth has blessed us with lots of it, also our ancestors settled here because of how remote and surrounded by nature it is.

These parts are close to the boundary and often patrolled by guards and wild dogs.

I catch the strong smell of iron and red blood. My blue eyes scan my surroundings carefully one more time.

My hackles are raised. What is that saying, where there is blood there is trouble.

I find droplets of blood on the ground, my eyes widen and my lips tighten. Cautiously, I follow the blood it leads me in a semi-circle.

My shorts are clinging to my skin from sweat, my shirt is basically a second skin because if you look closely, you can see the outline of my breasts, that is what I get for choosing not to wear a bra today. But like every werewolf, the feeling of fabric against my skin is like sandpaper sometimes.

I circle a tree; it is a large sycamore tree. The branches are huge spreading out like a web. I walk around it, the blood leads to behind the trunk. I look at the other side and the sight is so gory, I flinch back wincing in pain at the force.

I gasp in shock.

In all my years, I have never seen anything like this.

The poor animal looks at me with pain filled wounded eyes.