Chapter 4
1144 Words
Fenrir heard the low murmuring of the pack behind him as he left. But he didn't care. They could go to hell.
He was done looking after everyone and ignoring himself.
Fenrir kicked his door open. The first thing that met his eyes was the statue of the Lupe at the corner near the window.
He calmed down a little. But after a moment, he discovered he could not stay in the same room as the statue. Not after the cruelty he exhibited.
Lupe would not have approved. It made him feel guilty.
To ease his mind, Fenrir decided to go hunting. He snatched up his bow and a quiver of arrows and stalked out of the room.
Tasha was waiting for him beyond the castle walls. He ignored her and went straight into the woods.
Instantly, his heartbeat increased and his ears perked up. There was danger nearby. He could feel it. A prey.
It was time to hunt. Nothing soothes a wolf like hunting.
Fenrir set off running. Exhilaration filled him as he cut a path through the forest to the place he had smelled his prey. This was hunting. He could be as cruel as he wanted, and rightly so.
A few minutes later, Fenrir crashed to a stop. A few metres away, a girl shivered as a tiger prowled towards her.
Her eyes connected with Fenrir, and he felt an inexplicable pull. His heart sped up, different from how it does when he's on the hunt.
He remembered this feeling clearly. This was the feeling he had when he found his mate many years ago. But this lady here was not his mate. He could feel no bond, nor smell any sweet scent from her.
Yet, there was a pull. He knew it as surely as he knew Lupe was dead.
Screaming, Fenrir leaped at the same time the tiger did. He was too far. Before he could knock the beast away, it has already sunk it's canines into the lady's throat.
Growling ferociously, Fenrir held both of the beast's jaws and tore them from the lady's throat.
Blood spurted out from the gaping hole left. Fenrir didn't remove his hands from the jaws, till he tore one from the other.
The beast made a low growl in its throat and lunged at Fenrir, its claws slashing. Fenrir was ready. He sidestepped, caught both front paws, and tore the beast into two.
Then he placed a foot on his kill, raised his face to the gibbous moon and let out a howl of victory.
The lady gave one last gasp, the air rushing out through the hole in her throat, before passing out. Fenrir immediately rushed to her.
A pool of blood soaked the ground around her head. She had lost too much blood. And she couldn't breathe because of the hole in her throat.
Fenrir felt an irrational panic. He has to save this lady. If she could just stay conscious long enough, her wounds would heal and she would be able to breathe normally.
Of course, he did not know the lady was a human and did not have the preternatural vitality werewolves had.
He bent low and bit the lady on the neck, infusing some small part of the beast within him into the lady.
He looked at the wound. They showed no signs of healing. Fenrir looked at the lady's face again. That was when he noticed her scent.
It was the scent of a human!
How had she passed through the barrier? The barrier of magic separating the human world from the wolf world wasn't one either humans or wolves could breach. At the moment though, Fenrir didn't care. All he knew was that he was about to lose someone else.
He bit her again. This time, it was the bite to turn humans. This would ensure she would heal, for the time being. Fenrir knew the bite could kill her if she didn't accept it, but he hoped he would have convinced her to be a werewolf before it would.
Delicately, Fenrir carried her to a cave near his castle. He made her a bedding of leaves and grasses and laid her down gently.
Then he sat beside her, his eyes intent on her face. He was wondering. The lady was pretty, no doubt, but what had attracted him to her? What was this connection he felt with her?
Gently, Fenrir brushed his hands against her face. It felt warm, and his wolf curled up in delight. Suddenly, he wanted to cuddle her.
Some minutes later, the wound in the throat was almost gone.
The lady coughed and opened her eyes. Then she leaped up and looked around wildly.
"No tiger." She muttered, relaxing. The lady touched her neck in confusion. "What happened?" She muttered to herself.
"I saved you." Fenrir replied.
The lady jumped in fright. She had not noticed the man standing in the shadows of the cave.
Fenrir moved out into the moonlight. The lady finally saw his face. It was the same man that had torn a tiger into two as if it was paper.
Backing off rapidly, she started screaming hysterically.
"Monster! I'm in a world of monsters!"
"Relax," Fenrir tried to calm her. He held up his hand in the universal gesture of surrender, but Mia wasn't even looking at him. Her eyes were shut tight, and her breathing was heavy.
She had backed herself against the edge of the cave now, and she sat there, breathing heavily.
Suddenly, her face paled. Her breathing got heavy. With a full thud, she slid down the cave wall and crumpled on the floor.
She started convulsing. Foam leaked from her mouth, which hung half open, like that of an imbecile.
"No! Not now!" Fenrir screamed in anguish.
He felt his heart beating almost as loud as her breathing sounded. He knew exactly what was happening to her.
Whenever a werewolf bites a human, the human has to die first, before being reborn as a werewolf. But that would only happen if the person's body and soul accepted the bite.
There was no way to know whose body can accept a bite, but the chances can be considerably improved by the person accepting the bite mentally.
The moment Mia rejected him, calling him a monster, the part of his beast that had gone into her with his bite turned against her.
She would die if she doesn't accept him. Panicking, Fenrir rushed to her and held her. For the first time in as long as he could remember, there were tears in his eyes.
"Don't die on me, please!" He cried over and over again.
Meanwhile, Mia was in extreme pains as she convulsed. It seemed she had lost control of her body. She couldn't move any part of her body.
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