The Rogue and His Hunter Mate

Chapter 8- Something Unexpected

Khanna POV

Silence. Not even the leaves blowing in the slight wind are making a noise. All that can be heard is the panting from the two wolves and myself. I am trying to stop the bleeding, having just removed the branch from my abdomen.

The black wolf just stands over me for what feels like ages. Then the dirty wolf growls and lowers itself to the ground, clearly getting ready for an attack move. I look around, but there is no way I can move, and even if I could, there was nowhere for me to go.

Then the most unexpected thing happened: the black wolf moved forward three steps and stood in front of me, growling at the dirty wolf and digging its claws into the dirt before it propels itself forward and attacks the dirty wolf head-on.

The fight starts out a bit like a dance, both wolves circling each other and growling. The black wolf has a good few inches on the dirty wolf, along with speed. The black wolf is so fast that most of the time when I blink, he has moved. His movements are so fluid and precise; the dirty wolf doesn’t really stand a chance.

It looks as though the black wolf is actually defending me. Whenever the dirty wolf gets too close to me, the black wolf bites into a body part and pulls the dirty wolf back towards it.

There is just so much going on in the fight; both wolves are clawing and biting each other. I can see a bit of strategy from the black wolf, but it is mainly just fighting on instinct, which are clearly honed better than the dirty wolf's. It quickly becomes clear in the fight who is going to win, but it also means that the dirty wolf becomes unpredictable as it quickly realizes that its life is in danger and it becomes more rabid and vicious.

Finally, the fighting stops. The black wolf is standing still with the neck of the dirty wolf in its mouth. The black wolf shakes its head a bit, and a resounding ‘c***k’ echoes through the trees as the dirty wolf falls limp in the wolf’s mouth.

The black wolf drops the dirty wolf on the ground and starts to stalk towards me, his tail between his legs and his ear flattened, but still so scary.

“Please! Please don’t kill me. I swear I mean no harm, and I definitely do not taste nice. I just want to go home. I don’t want to die,” I cry. I start to hyperventilate and get hysterical. A part of me is thinking that I am being stupid and irrational, but the bigger part of me just cannot take much more today.

From one dangerous situation to another. If the wolf doesn’t kill me, then the blood loss definitely will, but I would rather die of blood loss than at the hands (or paws) of a wolf.

The wolf continues to slowly walk to me, stopping every few steps to see my reaction. But I am just so scared that I continue to shake and cry. I might be a hunter in name, but not in heart. Today has shown that.

I am then surprised when the wolf drops down on all fours in front of me and puts his head on my legs and whines, causing sparks to go up my legs where the fur touches my skin. But what surprises me the most is when I feel something wet on my abdomen. I look down and see the wolf is licking my wound.

I try to push the wolf away, but even his head is too heavy for me. The wolf is determined for his head not to move. I never thought that wolves liked the taste of blood. I know vampires do, but not wolves. This makes me panic again; maybe this wolf will drink me to death instead of eating me.

The thought scares me, but it does not stay with me for long as I feel sleep slowly claiming me, and I can no longer fight keeping my eyes open.

A Few Hours Later

I wake up to a dark sky littered with stars. I smile to myself; I have not seen the night sky for a very long time. I lay there for a while, just enjoying the sky, before my brain kicks in and realizes that there are few stars in the night sky that I normally see.

It is then that everything starts to come back to me: the fight, the wound, and the wolf. I then try to lift myself up using my elbows, but I stop short when I see a wolf laying on my stomach. I realize quickly that it is the black wolf from earlier. Guess it didn’t want to kill me after all.

“Aww, aren’t you a cutie?” I ask the wolf.

The wolf simply huffs, and I swear if wolves could roll their eyes, then this one would have just done that. The wolf then lifts its head slightly higher, realizing that I had woken up. It quickly scans me but does not move from its position.

“Huh, you don’t seem as scary now,” I say, running my hands through the wolf’s fur.

The wolf tilts his head a bit, as if indicating that he wants me to explain.

“When I first saw you, I was petrified that you would kill me. But then you protected me when I was out cold, and sitting here with you now feels more like I am with a dog rather than a huge, scary wolf,” I explain.

I lay back down, the wolf keeping me nice and warm while I continue to stroke its fur. I am enjoying just listening to nature and watching the night sky. It has been so long since I have felt this free. A part of me does not want to move from here ever again. It’s not exactly like anyone would miss me back home.

After a while, the wolf stands up and indicates for me to follow it. I whimper a bit at the loss of the warmth and the sparks. But I am surprised to see that the wound has almost healed. It will leave a scar, but the bleeding has stopped, and it is now just scabbed over. Rather than looking fresh, it looks a few weeks old. I touch it gingerly, expecting pain, but nothing. The only thing I do find is that it is a bit wet, as if something has been licking it regularly. I look up at the wolf, but then shake that thought from my head.

Why would a wolf lick my wound?

I get up slowly, still not wanting to cause the scab to reopen, and start to follow the wolf. I feel a bit sorry for the wolf as it is clearly going slower than it is used to or wants, as I can’t move that fast.

When the wolf brings us to a stop, I am surprised to find that I am back in the part of the forest where the hunters had left me earlier today. I cannot believe how much time has passed. It feels like days ago, but in reality, it was only a few hours ago.

I then look down at the entrance to the portal, and there is the body of the dirty wolf from earlier.

Where did he come from?

I want to ask the wolf, but even if he is a werewolf, it is not likely that he will tell me or even transform to tell me. Instead, I just look at the wolf in shock.

I turn around to say thank you, but when I turn around, the wolf has already started to walk away to the edge of the forest.

I look at the wolf as he runs away. Maybe what the hunters say is wrong, and they aren’t violent creatures unless provoked. I sit down on a tree stump and wait for the portal to reopen. When that happens, I don’t know, but I am sure many will be surprised that I am still alive.

I just keep thinking of what has happened today.

That wolf could have killed me, but instead, he saved me and then let me go.

I am now standing just near the portal, having followed the wolf here, as if they knew what I was doing.

Maybe, just maybe, I was right and they are more similar to us than Bradley wants us to believe.

But then why would he paint them in such a bad light?

What the hell is going on?

And why did that wolf save me?