A fabled wall, marking the territory of the werewolves and adorned with the severed skull of a once great alpha, stands between Natalya and her prey.
When she finds the body of Anesa, her beloved mentor, she is determined to hunt down the vampire r...
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Four werewolves were perched atop the roof of a tall building, overlooking the streets of Claw Haven. Their silhouettes stood powerfully against the light of the half moon, sweeping the gray hairs along their backs silver. Droplets of saliva glistened from the tips of their slavering fangs, and their glowing white eyes cut cruelly into the darkness, nearly turning it into day with their efficiency.
A pungent odor had reached them, and their muzzles curled into distasteful snarls. The scent was an unpleasant irritant to their sensitive noses; the rotting of death and ash mixed with fresh blood that failed to bring forth the lust of hunger. The scent heralded the arrival of their bitterest enemy and with it ramifications that hadn't been invoked in over a century. The werewolves exchanged glances, their communication seamless and invisible to human eyes. As stealthily as they could, they leaped from one rooftop to the other, hoping to disguise their own scents and not rouse the vampire's acute senses. They followed with caution, unwilling to throw themselves blindly into danger while they wondered about this strange proceeding.
It was not long before they scented Natalya. Her scent was a strange combination of the arrogance of the hunter, impeded by a slight tendril of fear that wafted deliciously towards their nostrils. She could not move quickly, crouched as she was against the buildings, her stake held out in front of her like a sword.
The smallest of the four werewolves strained forward, his tendons quivering with nervous energy. He was longing to leap at her, to take her throat. He remained where he was though, rooted to the spot by a glare from his elder. His ears were still pricked eagerly as his teachings competed with his instincts.
The oldest among them watched Natalya, not with hunger, as did his fellows, but with calculating intensity.
What shall we do? The question was projected from the smallest to the other three, and they looked now to the oldest for his answer, each quelling their own desire to kill the trespassing girl. Below them, Natalya rounded the corner. She was not yet alerted to their presence, and instinctively they followed her and her weapon's movements with wary eyes. The metallic tang of the silver she carried in her arrows gave them respectful pause, and she passed below them unharmed.
Do? The elder asked sharply inside their heads. We shall do nothing without the Alpha. This is the beginning of strange times. A human and a vampire stand within the walls of Claw Haven for the first time in over a hundred years. Now we shall warn him.
The others growled in assent and with that the werewolves withdrew from the roof. As quietly as shadows, they melded back into the night as subtly as any true wolf pack.
~ ~ ~
Natalya was being watched. The fine hairs rose along the back of her neck, and her spine tingled as if she could feel the piercing gaze of this unseen entity. No unusual noises came to her ears, nor did her eyes catch anything unusual, but she knew it all the same. Her hand closed around the necklace Anesa had given her. It was warm to the touch, and the emerald had been replaced with a deep scarlet. She raised her head, listening, but no new sounds revealed themselves. Her eyes sliced through the night for any movement, but only an owl could be seen watching her intently from a low tree branch. They locked eyes, the owl's white face hanging in the air like a lantern, the rest of its sooty body obscured in the darkness. Natalya ignored the bird until it lit from its perch and disappeared.
