Reborn as the Lycan Beta

Chapter 5. Halt, Hunter!

***Warning: This chapter contains gory and violent adult images. Not for the faint of heart!***

Sylvan POV

Somewhere in Northumberland-Kielder Forests

Not Too Long Ago (Flashback Cont’d.)

“Hurry!”

Glinda hissed, a second portal behind her.

I felt my little boy tighten his hold on my shoulders. I looked at him, making sure he had no injuries. Such appearance, of course, was deceiving; deep down inside I knew he was hurting — after all, his world had just turned a hundred and eighty degrees.

Our commune, the only home I’ve known these past four years, now lay in ruins.

My beloved, the love of my life, my son’s mother — my dearest Nautia, is dead.

I couldn’t even hold her in my arms. None of us could.

All because she pushed us out of the way to receive the mortal blow that would rip her heart out of chest. And another shifter, a newcomer — a dragon, at that — burnt what remained of her, except for the head.

And that’s all in front of our son, Morgan.

I wonder if this was how it had been before I lost my memories?

Was there someone important to me back then — someone so important that I lost my memories, as a consequence?

“Y-you’re hurt,” Morgan said, breaking me out of reverie. I didn’t realize he had turned to see Glinda, who had been holding a portal different from where we had come out of. He pushed and wriggled, begging to be let off, but I wouldn’t let him.

“Granny Glinda!” Morgan called out, desperately. My heart broke at the tone of his voice.

“Don’t call me granny, brat,” Glinda huffed. “Hurry up, you two. We barely have —” her words were cut off by a coughing fit, her knees giving way. Her hands, however, remained raised to hold the warp open. Blood dripped from her mouth and nose.

“Auntie Glinda!”

“Glinda!”

I ran towards her, my boy in my arms, but suddenly he pushed me, jumping down as he, too, ran towards the witch.

“Auntie!” Morgan cried.

“Hurry up you tw—” she collapsed even further, but this time I held her and laid her down.

“Glinda,” I huffed. “You don’t have to warp us away. We’ll get you to some hospital.”

“N-no, y-you must go,” Glinda said, her hand still holding up.

“Auntie,” Morgan said, holding hard onto her hand. “Please don’t leave us, too.”

“Stupid boy,” she said. “I’m making sure the portal is open so you two can escape —” she coughed even more.

“You don’t have to hold the portal open,” I huffed. “We’re far away enough already.”

The surrounding forest was beginning to grow dark at this time of the year and the creatures should start to roost and go back to their dens by now. I could get us our bearings in a short while; all I had to do was check the stars just as the hunters of our commune had taught me. Yet as if to disprove my argument, however, sounds of birds, bats, and beasts taking flight could be heard from amongst the trees.

“Hurry,” Glinda said. “You have no time.”

“No,” I growled as I attempted to pick her up. Suddenly, she seemed so heavy.

“You can’t pick me up,” Glinda smirked despite her dying breath.

“But Auntie,” Morgan protested.

“You must go, both of you,” she said. Her voice was getting weaker. “I’m using up the last of my powers. William’s bird and that dragon did a number on my internal organs. You need to survive and escape to get them back for me.”

“But…”

“Once… I lose consciousness,” the witch continued. “You… have one minute to get in… It’s been set… to seal off… when you enter… the warp.”

“If that’s the case, we can still bring you with us,” I huffed and attempted once more to pull her up, but it was futile.

“‘Tis… a holding spell,” She said. “Please… go.” Then she went limp.

The portal, however, remained open.

“Auntie!” Morgan cried, and would have clung to her had I not pulled him off.

“Let’s go,” I huffed. “Your Auntie Glinda knows what she’s doing. Let’s not waste her effort.”

“But Daddy…”

“Let’s go.”

-+oO~ End of Flashback ~Oo+-

—

Somewhere in Kielder Forest

I don’t know how long I had been running through the forest, which I found out a while ago to be somewhere down south — Kielder forest, if I were to base it on the newly-popped up stars. A while ago we had been near the lake, but for our safety I backtracked into the forest, skirting around the edges of the huge body of water and instead crisscrossing creeks and springs in the hopes of disorienting our pursuers.

My boy had stopped sniffling. From his even breathing it seemed my poor Morgan was asleep, most likely from the trauma and exhaustion of having his birthday turned into hell in just a matter of hours.

While my body was sore and begging for rest, my mind was running kilometers far ahead. I tried to keep track of our bearings, taking note of the position of trees, shrubs and everything else despite the darkness that already enveloped us. I wanted Morgan and I to head south without crossing any river.until we get into the open grounds.

Nighttime was our enemy as much as the open. For shifters, the forest at night is their ultimate playground. Neither was the river our friend; avian and flying shifters would easily scout us out, even at night. I would probably be able to hold things out had I been alone thanks to my nearly four years of hunter training (and maybe even more, if my muscle memory was included), but now I have to consider my son, too.

I looked up once more. The stars were out, but there was no moon. Then I recalled: it was new moon tonight. That meant shifters would not be so active — the regular ones, that is. If that wayward former hunter and corrupted mage named Butch William had regular ones, then we might have a fighting chance.

Or not, because I suddenly remembered that horrible dragon that backed up the curlew.

I felt my stomach drop, and my heart rate and breathing speed up.

Stop it, me, I thought to myself. You can’t give up now. Not when your son needs you.

I shook my head. I’m beginning to think to myself like some other person.

I paused and listened as intently as I could while I looked around. Trees and more trees. An occasional ruin here, a slab of stone from an ancient civilization there, and shrubs — but no hiding spot. It was dim, but I could make out some tracks at the forest floor.

Beasts and shifters,. Wolves.

But they seemed hours if not a day or two old.

It then occurred to me that this was a common highway, one of those neutral areas where packs could cross one another without fighting. That meant to shifters like those of William’s group, tracks and smells, even those I couldn’t see, criss-cross and mix.

Morgan and I stood a fighting chance; I just needed to make sure that our presence are obscured. I carefully trekked, listening intently for burbling sound while also carefully smelling the air for any familiar scent.

There. Masking herbs. Highways may be common areas for packs and communes, but it also meant rogues and local bandits could pass through this area. The tendency to meet one right now wouldn’t be a pleasant thought, but again, if I played the cards right even those rogues won’t bother with us.

The night was growing cold. I went to a nearby spruce, where I readjusted Morgan from my one arm to my back, keeping him in place and warm with a makeshift baby sling, reinforced with my small rucksack. All my weapons and bullets were loaded to all the pockets of my coat, while my body and belt bags contained the rest of our provisions. I then carefully picked my way through the masking herbs taking leaves, flowers, and berries while keeping track of any hints of shifter activity.

Foraging seemed to take an hour, but when I checked my watch it turned out to be only minutes. By then, I heard a distinct burbling. I found another stream, this one heading to the direction I was hoping for. Just to make sure, spent most of the time wading through the water within the next ten minutes.

The trees eventually grew further apart as I headed south. It was getting even darker, and my strength was beginning to wane. I paused and took deep breaths while I looked around to get my bearings. Down southeast, I could make out a castle. We could either risk crossing and stay there for the night, or we could camp outdoors and risk roaming shifters.

I opted the former, slowly making my way toward its ramparts and praying there were no wayward bogs in the area. Before I could take a few more steps further, however, I felt my son Morgan stir and goosebumps on my nape.

Howls echoed all throughout the area.

Morgan held on to me tighter, but it was a good thing he spoke no word. I slightly slouched, one of my hands holding on to my boy behind me, while my other hand ready to pull my gun.

We then saw glowing eyes. Most of them yellow and powder blue, and one a sharp hazel.

“Halt, hunter. Identify yourself.”

—