The Beast and The Blessed

Prey

I had never felt such a volatile mix of relief and stark terror. The house was finally empty, and I scavenged everything I could get my hands on clothes, a meager stash of money, and dry food stuffing it all into a backpack. Every creak of the old house, every rustle of leaves outside, made my heart stall in my chest.

I wasn't just waiting for my parents to return and find me stealing. I was waiting for a Lycan to materialize and tear the life from me.

They had already infiltrated our land. Even without a wolf to sense them, I could feel their presence. Their power was a tangible force, unlike anything I had ever experienced. The hair stood straight up on my neck and arms, and my stomach churned with pure, raw panic.

I slung the backpack over my shoulder, keeping my throbbing, damaged forearm pressed tightly to my ribs to avoid further pain. My goal was simple: three miles to the pack border, then six more to the nearest human town. Once there, I could hitch a ride and vanish. I could finally be free.

The back door shrieked in protest as I pushed it open. I didn't dare stop to close it, bolting straight into the thick cover of the trees. The Lycans could only serve as a distraction for so long. Once my parents realized the depth of my theft and departure, I had no idea if they would hunt me down or simply accept the relief of being rid of me.

Either way, I pushed myself harder. I had to get off this cursed land before they even noticed I was gone.

My breath came quickly, the pain in my arm serving as a brutal distraction. I stumbled over a root but regained my footing, forcing myself onward. The border seemed to recede the faster I ran, but I couldn't afford to slow down now. I was too close.

A massive shadow flickered in the trees to my right. I gasped, glancing over, but saw nothing. Yet, the alarm screaming in my head confirmed I was no longer alone. The further I ran, the more certain I became of my unseen pursuer. A colossal, hulking shape would briefly catch my peripheral vision, only to vanish when I turned my head.

Then, loud, heavy footfalls and a deep, guttural snarl joined my frantic pace. The feral sound sent an icy shock straight down to my toes. It was more than a warning. It was a dark, inescapable promise.

Two more figures appeared to my left, running effortlessly alongside me on two legs. Their terrifying, beast-like forms made my lungs contract with panic. I couldn't draw another breath.

I had never imagined my miserable end would come at the hands of the Lycans.

"You can stop running now. As amusing as your attempt was." A smooth, female voice called out just steps ahead of me. She shimmered into view, her eerie white eyes boring into my soul. I slid to an abrupt stop. My ragged, uneven panting seemed to delight her as she surveyed me. It was deeply unsettling not to see where her gaze was directed, but the tilt of her head confirmed I was under her complete scrutiny.

The other Lycans moved in, closing the circle around me like predators about to claim their meal. Their half-shift state was even more terrifying up close than I remembered from a distance.

I had watched them during previous Offerings, but I had never faced them directly.

The four beasts surrounding me exchanged low, animalistic noises. Then, one of the monsters on my left reached for me, and I instinctively flinched away.

I could feel the border mere yards away. Although I knew they could easily pursue me into the unclaimed lands, I refused to surrender. I stared into the beast's glowing red eyes, seeing the clear amusement and challenge there. He knew I was going to run, but that knowledge didn't stop me from spinning on my heel and sprinting directly into the massive chest of another Lycan.

I screamed as its colossal arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over its shoulder like a child's toy. My backpack smacked me sharply on the back of the head. I thrashed wildly, kicking and struggling, desperate to break free.

The monster's muscular frame tightened around me like a boa constrictor, restraining me completely, before he took off at a blinding run. The more I fought, the tighter his terrifying grip became.

I let out a gasp of disbelief as we burst through the final treeline. What had taken me over twenty minutes to run was less than five seconds for this creature.

"I'm a human!" The terrified plea tore from my throat, shaky and desperate. "I never shifted! I'm just a human!"

The beasts surrounding the one carrying me met my plea with coarse laughter. I was a nobody. They had never required my presence at the Offering before. No Lycan would ever want me as a mate. Even a werewolf like Rhoan hadn't wanted me.

The only logical explanation was punishment. My parents couldn't possibly be home yet, so unless the Lycans planned to execute me for disrupting the ceremony, they had no conceivable use for me.

I heard the pack members murmuring in disbelief and irritation as I was carried into view before being unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. The involuntary cry of pain as I tried to break my fall with my injured arm silenced the entire pack. I gasped for breath, pushing back fresh tears, staring only at the dead grass before me.

Then, I felt him: the King.

His aura was a dense, physical force, demanding complete submission. I desperately wanted to look up as he approached, but I was utterly petrified. My eyes were glued to the dirt before his massive paws, my body trembling with adrenaline and fear, waiting for him to speak. Would he kill me for running during the ceremony? Did he even care about the presence of a pathetic human?

A low, vibrating growl rumbled from the beast before me. My skin prickled with a sudden, overwhelming heat.

I had heard countless snarls and growls in my time with the pack. This sound was profoundly different. It was laced with a chilling darkness that demanded I cower, but beneath that threat, there was a twisted, almost pleasurable purr that suggested he would relish my execution.

"Her?" The familiar, shrill voice of my tormentor shrieked. I turned my head to see the line of kneeling women. Savannah stared at me with pure disbelief and disgust before she made the unforgivable mistake of turning her glare directly toward the King. "You want her? She is nothing but a pathetic human!"

My eyes widened at her blatant, fatal disrespect. No one, not even an Alpha, would dare address a Lycan this way, let alone the King himself.

Damon released a deafening roar that made every single pack member flinch and snap their heads low in submission. My face was inches from the ground, and I watched in terror as the King moved past me and stood before Savannah.

The increased distance allowed me to take in his size. He was noticeably larger than the other Lycans, his body covered in intricate, knotted scars visible beneath his dark fur. He was the embodiment of terror.

His claw was easily the size of Savannah's head as he plunged it directly through her chest, ripping her heart out the other side. The pack dissolved into a flurry of sobs and terrified pleas for mercy.

"You would do well to teach your pack the meaning of respect," Joselin called out, her voice cold. I was trapped, staring at Savannah's lifeless body as the King withdrew his hand, letting her corpse collapse to the ground.

I registered his return walk, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of the bloody, gaping wound. It was the large hand that clamped onto my backpack and effortlessly lifted me off the ground like a rag doll that finally snapped me back to reality. I instinctively met the glowing red eyes of the Lycan King.

His deep, powerful voice sent a chill straight through me as he spoke a single, definitive word:

"Mine."