The Untamed

Chapter nine

Chapter nine.

King Andrew's POV

It is time. The weres have gone to sleep. Silence embed the whole camping site. The five of us use our deep-listening ears to search for any awake Werewolves and check for their heartbeat. When people, humans and weres alike, sleep there's a reaction that different their current position from when they are awake. 

Once the plan is clear, I motion for the others to follow me. From my side to the left is the tower-like hut, where the guards have moved to, a searching torch light in a big glass, moving around the perimeter from the same tower light passes us, just a bit distance from catching us. 

The plan would have failed. I look back at Moko, and say from my mind, through the link connecting me to his mind. "Take them out." 

With the nod he gives me as a reply, he waits for the light to pass by us again. Once it has, he runs, his back hunched, making his upper body lower to the ground as he uses his claws as a stabilizer to keep his low gait. Getting to the tower, he bends the earth beneath his feet, sending him up through the window of the hut, and entering, I hear sounds of grunt, lashes, muffled wails.

The light comes again, and goes across the hut, past it. When it's gone, Moko jumps back down but instead of falling onto the ground, it swallows him up. By the time he will show up, he's emitting through the earth next to Clark. I give him a curt nod, and look down at the camp site, inhaling.

"It is time. Feed." Is all I say, before releasing the power of the curse. It gushes into my veins, pulling any sort of purity out, and I can feel my consciousness still settling in. It is different this time. I think it's because I'm beginning to accept the power of the beast. It no longer frighten my monster, my Vampiric part. Now that I'm accepting it, I no longer feel that darkness that I would fall into, that endless pit, where I would be screaming for help. It's such a sickening situation. No, it was. 

The power of darkness, of hatred, of unrelenting, of ruin passes out of my body in form of an aura and burns into the body of the others. They gasp, and whines at the same time, feeling the same different pattern I had felt. This night is ours. This victory of enmity between the Vampires and Werewolves is ours.

Without waiting for my orders, Moko and Clark flips into the air, and on landing, they slide down the sloppy hill, heading for the downside. 

I do the same, but due to my own rage, which is of more intensity than theirs, I overlap them and push more. Getting to the first hut, which holds the rest of the guards, I smirk just before grabbing one's neck. He chokes as he awakes from his sleep. Before another could wake, I have use my claws to shatter the neck of the first.

"What—" as the second whom is just awakening says, I dig my claws, my needing claws which is growing more and more, not giving pains like it used to, but thrills, and I drag out his spine from through his neck, blood sputtering out.

As the blood spits onto my face, I gnash my teeth, inwardly thrilling from the horror look on the male wolf's face. Some of it splatter onto another's, the last of them in the tent. I want to catch him by the neck again, from the ground where he's sleeping, but he's trained, or at least looks to be.

He's hurried to flip over to his back, and tears the tent, using his claws. Falling with his back onto the ground, I watch intricately what his next move will likely be. He grunts, and seeing me take one step over the other, my fangs gritting, as my throat makes animalistic growls that rumbles my chest, and makes some sort of croaking sound, he hurriedly stand, and suddenly, from nowhere, a iron bar pierce through his skin, yanking into his body, and popping out through his stomach. His eyes widens, as he tries to say something, but instead blood falls out. He makes a coughing sound, which only result in more blood coming back. As he falls into the ground, Lin's frame reveals.

He picks at his fangs with his tongue, blood dripping from it and says, "you haven't fed. Those females blood taste quite alluring than the males. It makes my d**k twitch." And he's gone, after making a snarl.

I look around, now hearing wails of cries, smelling different scents of blood, mixed with the sand. Fragrance of some wolf's furs reaches my lungs as well, as I weave past in my gait. As my eyes land on a she-wolf, looking around in confusion. She's bewildered to what's going on, her eyes searching, and at the same time, filled with terror.

She sights me, and I swear, I could hear her breathing hitch. She backs away, when I zoom-run towards her, flashily, enclosing her as her back is now against a wooden pole.

She smells like butter, rather something marple-like, and of the forest as well, which indicates her wolf. 

I make a teasing face. "Oh, the wild in you is ready to play a game, isn't she?" My voice is cooing, but inside, my monster is yelling at me, gnashing his teeth as he tries to be unleashed. He craves for blood, and with her blood tasting like a piece of pancakes, we can't help but want to drain her dry. 

"Please don't. I didn't do anything." She pleads, her voice quivering. She's got a nice voice, I'm sure she'd make a good ringtone when I begin to feed off of her. Just imagining it makes my crotch tighten against the fabric of my pants.

"Oooh, sorry, but this thing doesn't want to back off." I look down at my pants, feeling the space tightens more, just from hearing her rasp breathing. I couldn't take it in more, as I tear off the scarf on her neck, and smile before prickling my fangs into that tanned flesh.

The moment I feel the taste, my buds jubilate but at the same time, I feel something lose in me. Kara. My mind goes suddenly to her. Nothing can ever taste good like her. No blood can ever beat hers in my mouth. Ever since that night, I had wished that I kept some of her blood so I can mix it into the blood bags I've been drinking after, and make the taste more befitting. 

I take my thinking off her, knowing that if I don't, the power of the beast in me will be rebuked since I know that she would never want me to do this, so literally, I would want to stop. But then, I don't want to stop. This is exhilarating. This is something I've longed for. I am not lost. I am only reborn. 

I say those words in my head like a mantra.

My fangs cracks the shoulder of the she-wolf before me, whose blood I'm sucking on, and she screams the more. I moan at the deepened reach which my fangs can get, while my nose is pressed against her flesh, inhaling the scent of blood and marple.

Once her voice is dying, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, I don't bother taking back my venom since it will kill her. Even with knowing that, the rage in me has no choice, but to cup her head between my palms, and twist it to the back, after the crunch, I hurl her head off of her neck, letting her remaining body fall at my feet. Not really at my feet thought as I'm already off to picking a male wolf, and dipping my talon nails into his back.

Getting hold of his backbone, I crush it making him stop in his fight with Akanji. "I had him." Akanji says, furious at me taking his prey. I can smell the rage, and the feeling of remorseless in him. He now thrive to kill as well.

"There's more." Is my reply to him, rolling his eyes at me. He leaves, vanishing into the air.

With my scarlet red, and obsidian black eyes I control the body of another wolf, compelling him to turn into his wolf. When he does, I tell him in my mind to attack another wolf which he could take. I wonder how foolish the omega must have been to keep were wolves that have nothing to protect themselves here. Even just the human Hunters could have killed them.

I dip my teeth into the male, who's spinal cord, I've crushed, and drink. I don't wait on him long before I move to another, whose head I had fatten with my palm and with great force cut off of the hook. As his head falls off, I grab it and hurls it into the face of another wolf, this one is turned. Only few of them are turning into the reason why they are called Werewolves. The others are just in their human form, most likely still young wolf, learning how to turn. They must have been fools to come and camp here. Maybe they thought we wouldn't hold grudges against them. I laugh at that. What fools!

The wolf turns his attention on me, and drools. I squirm my nose at that, mimicking him at though I am irritated. No, I am ecstatic, needing more. I want a wolf, with such skills that will fight me and make my victory not so boring as the rest.

He pads his right front paw on the ground, as he grits, saliva falling down. 

"Okay, that's enough. Now, I am irritated." I say and run towards him. He picks up a race too, lunges for me, his claws out wanting to crop into my skin, but in the fast moment, I see a lurch and move for it.

I jump off the ground, and flies over his paws, his mouth passing by my face and I shake my head at the awful scent I perceived. I let gravity do the work as I attach my claws to the side of his stomach and as I fall to the ground, my claws sweep across his skin, deep.

Rolling over the ground, I stand once again, regained stance. Looking to my back, I see him whine on the ground, his healing powers slowly patching up the wounds.

"Well, victory will always be boring." I say with a flat, nonchalant tone and tap against his neck, crunching it and hearing the cracking sound. His eyes widens in his now dead body, and I feel nothing but the same thrill.

I don't hear much sounds as before, so I look around to see Moko, Lin, Akanji, and Lin. Where are the remaining Weres? Or are this guys so fast in drinking that they don't even leave me a left over?

Clark approaches us. There's a tent ahead of us, which he throws his legs at. When he punch his left feet into the air, in horizontal form with his left arm, fire comes from both and burns down the tent. 

Moko jumps up on seeing the running away sets of Werewolves, and on landing, he raises his hands above his head, his legs differentiating to widen and maintain a firm stance. Once he's achieved that, he grunt as he pulls the earth up to his command, letting a block of earth stops the path of the Werewolves.

I give him a apprehending nod. The five of us walks in sync, towards our preys. Their screams and frightening sounds elevate as we take each steps, nearing them. They crawl at the rock, but Moko had made it slippery so that their nails wouldn't work out. 

"Let them go and I'll fight you." A male says. I order my mind to navigate through the wave of sounds to only pick the owner out of the rest of the pack. "I am the omega for the Alpha of all Werewolves'alphas." He adds, and walks out from the set.

Moko, Clark, Akanji, and Lin prepares into a fighting stance but I motion with my hands, stopping them. "I want him." My voice is such maniac, devilish, craving low tone. Kara must not see who I am, and what I look like now. She'd hate me for every seconds she has left in her life.

I know I must look like some rogue, fury Vampire, who's been stripped off all conscience. Maybe I am. I lock away that mind of mine thiah wants to think about Kara, and rather concentrate at the omega across from me.

I kick my legs out as I walk closer to him, my lips smacking. "Nah, I can't let them go. But—" i point my finger at him when he wants to reject, "if you could fight me so well, maybe I'll let them go and let the four kings feed on you. I won't." I say, and mean it. That is my condition. "Do you come in terms?"

"Only if you can kill me."

"Trust me, this will be quick. But the feeding, you could try negotiating with them." I say, and look over to the guys. 

He breaths in, and when exhaling, his bones cracks. Furs appears from within his body, as his structure changes, his back hunching so that his hands comes to bite at the ground. He makes a somewhat painful sound as fully, his wildling is out. He growls at me, an ear-piercing growl that sends the ground shaking, giving me more thrills where I know this will be...just beautiful. 

"Now, let me show you mine." I say with glad, and I fall to the ground, on my knees, holding onto the small grasses. I chuckle at the power of pain, sorrow, and ruins that my beast feeds on to come out. From my back, the furs grows out as they became hunched but not completely as his was. For me, I could still stand straight, but not fully straight. I invite the power of its ugliness to overcome my humanly figure, and once done, the coat of the Were in me is now fully grown on my back, on my cheeks and down to my spine. My hair has grown longer too, the curse now completely manifested in me.

I growl out, a different tone that's not of mine and look down at the big wolf before me. My frame is larger than his is. Through my Werewolves ability I can sense the scariness in him, and I can sense each fighting movement he has and will likely use against me. Now again, I repeat, quote me down as I say with a yawn, "victory is boring."

It's like I want to fight a war that I already know how it will end, or like playing a game that you already know the moves and how it'll go. Now with a slouched shoulder, I am re-repeating, victory is boring.

The omega still doesn't back down. He snarls and comes for me, while with grace, I welcome him.