Chapter Thirty-Eight: Home At Last

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Ashlyn

A loud howl jerked me from my sleep, leaving me looking around in confused alarm. I looked to the stairs quickly as punding footsteps descended into the basement. Seymour was running over to me, eyes bright with a focused intensity, cheeks colored as he dropped beside me and scrambled to shove a key into the lock holding my arms in place. 

"Hey- Seymour, what's going on?" I asked nervously, shifting about and his tongue poked out in concentration. 

"Your pack!" He hissed. "They're here! Everyone's distracted, they're all outside fighting," he explained quickly. My heart soared with relief and a tired but excited smile split my face.

"Thank you, thank you, now hurry up so we can get out of-" I stopped short when I saw one of Seymour's snarling pack members appear at the bottom of the stairs. "Seymour-!" I shrieked as the woman lunged, tackling him across the dirty floor as Seymour yelped. 

"Oh, Seymour, Seymour, Seymour," she clicked her tongue, clawed fingers digging into his neck as she held him to the floor and he kicked, clawing at her arm. "We knew you were pathetic, but a traitor? You surprise me," she deadpanned and Seymour jerked as her claws broke skin.

"Stop it- Stop! Leave him alone!" I shouted, jerking on the chain still trapping one of arms. I looked around frantically, hair whipping my face and I zeroed in on the key, knocked across the floor. Pulling against the chain, I leaned over as I grabbed for the key, inches from my fingertips, a bone waved in a starving dog's face. The woman sneered down at Seymour as he choked, twitching and scrambling frantically. I glanced over at him in alarm then back to the key, grunting as my wrist strained and the joint nearly pulled apart, gasping when my fingers landed on the key and I pulled it back to me. My fingers trembled and I forced them to steady as I pushed it into the lock and my arm fell to my side.  When I looked at Seymour again, he was barely struggling now and I stumbled to my feet, incisors sliding out further as I slammed into the woman, knocking her away from Seymour. 

She growled and scrambled to grab me, jerking as I sat back on my knees and tangled one hand in her hair as the other grabbed her shoulder. With a jerk of her hair, her head was forced to the side and a scream echoed off the dusty walls as my teeth pierced her neck. I knew I hit an artery as blood spurted into my mouth and down my chin, dripping onto my shirt as I drank her blood down greedily. She was squirming weakly when I tore a chunk from her neck and was still by the time she hit the floor. My legs shook less as I slowly stood, blood dripping from where it was smeared on my chin onto the floor with a soft plat, plat, plat. I slowly walked over to where Seymour was laying catching his breath, wiping the blood off my hand before offering it to him. He stared up at me for a long moment and I was worried he hated me now until he grasped my hand and stood unsteadily.

"Thank you... I thought she was going to kill me," he rasped, rubbing where small droplets of blood beaded. 

"Me too..." I mumbled, looking down at my stained shirt. We both looked up as the snarling and barking from outside grew louder and more intense then looked to each other, nodding before jogging up the stairs. The house was empty; abandoned for the fight raging outside. Seymour pushed through the door and I stumbled after him, eyes widening at the scene playing before us. Wolves snarled and lunged, tearing into each other and slamming one another into the dirt. I knew which were my pack, could smell them and sense it in my chest. Seymour grabbed my arm, looking at me with his jaw set. 

"Go, help your pack, I'll find you after," he said before jumping off the porch and landing in the grass as a dusty brown wolf with a dark face before taking off into the scuffling horde. I watched him go anxiously before my attention was caught by a frantic whining and I leaped off the porch, ducking and weaving my way through the fighting wolves. One of my pack was trapped beneath a wolf of the enemy pack, kicking and shaking in an attempt to throw them off his back but the wolf was grounded by his grip on his scruff. A growl was the only warning the wolf had before he was being plowed off, jaws snapping at my hands as I grabbed at him. He let out a startled bark as I gripped his upper and lower jaw in my hands then went limp as I jerked his head with a snap. I clambered off and looked at towards my packmate, watching as he shook dirt and sticks from his coat before meeting my eyes, surprise in that familiar gaze. A golden brown wolf, coat like a toasted marshmallow, ran up to the wolf, sniffing at him and licking his muzzle and ear delicately and that's when it dawned on me. 

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