"I used to always talk about escaping this place. Always thinking about it, always dreaming about it. I would take off and go wherever I please. But now when I close my eyes, I'm with you, Connor. And it feels like the ultimate dream."
Kiara has alw...
Hi loves!!! Big chapter coming up right here... I hope it's long enough to hold you over until next time!
Song of the chapter is "Hallelujah" by Pentatonix. Thought it was a pretty version
Here's a gif of Connor to get you in battle mode! (Sorry if you hate blood lol)
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Enjoy!
Chapter 30
Kiara POV
"KIARA!"
I heard Connor's faint shouting from behind me as I ran, but I was too far ahead to be dragged back. With werewolf speed, it would take no time at all for him to catch up to me, but I was hoping I'd be too close to the fight by then before he could pull me back.
His eyes, a darkened forest green from pain, haunted my mind as I ran towards my pack. My pack. My people. I had to try to placate things, and if I couldn't I had to at least be there. And I knew Connor understood that, even if his eyes pleaded with mine to hide from the fight, even if his hands twitched by his sides as he stopped himself from protecting me.
It was these small gestures that made my love for him grow stronger. He knew I needed to be there, even if he didn't want me to be.
After the first gunshot was fired, the wolves started attacking. Even from a distance I could feel the fierce anger ripping through the air as my pack members howled in anguish. My calves burned as I ran forward, but I still refrained from shifting into wolf form. I had to speak my mind in order to stop the fight, and I couldn't relate to the hunters if I was a huge, caramel colored wolf.
So I ran, with Connor hot on my heels, no doubt. I finally reached the pack house, and my steps almost faltered in shock. Almost.
I couldn't even make out the blurs of colored fur as they leaped into the air, catching onto hunters' necks without a second thought. Yes, the hunters had chemically engineered guns. But Connor didn't understand that werewolves are fast, especially trained werewolves. Connor wasn't the only one trained all his life for a fight; my pack was strong, and the thought made me swell with pride for a moment.
But then I witnessed one of our newly trained fighters, a boy no more than fifteen. I could tell by the way his hind legs shook slightly before he leaped onto an unsuspecting hunter. Those were wary legs, as if he knew he was either about to make his first kill, or die trying. He tore the hunter's neck out without any more hesitation, before the hunter even had a chance to turn around. The young wolf lifted his head from the bloody corpse, his muzzle stained with dark, red blood. When I noticed the body, it took all I had not to vomit. It was a girl, a young girl probably around my age. Her glassy eyes stared up at the sky, and her mouth was still open in shock.
