Moonspell (1) Werewolf Romance

18. East Winds - M.

"And shower. You look awful."

"You literally bit my arm. I am not sure what kind of freak you are, but stay the hell away from me."

"The practical type. Erik's blood tastes awful to me but his mother's witch genes make it indeed healing. Ah, there is so much potential gone to waste when you look at him. He could easily rule the world, but he is too busy mourning a crazy bitch and babysitting a human liability. I must admit Erik intrigues me too."

Mila didn't say anything. Kiril was beyond weird beginning with the fact that he still didn't have clothes on.

"Would you like to touch me, or why exactly are you staring at me like that?"

"You are naked and covered in gore..." said Mila rolling her eyes."But you seem to feel better. What's next on the menu?" she continued.

Mila didn't manage to finish her sentence because Nachin steered very abruptly to the right and left the road to enter the woods.

That caused Mila to tumble over Kiril, dangerously close.

"Юу болоод байна?/ What is happening?" hissed Kiril.

"Зарим луйварчид эрдэнэт ижийг барьж авах гэж байгаа байх./ Some rogues trying to capture the precious doe, I guess."

Their language was very strange. A tiny bit like Russian but only a bit. 

"Get off me," said Kiril to Mila with glittering eyes.

"What's happening? Am I again in danger to die?"

"You always are. Get used to it. We got company."

The car stopped and Kiril and Nachin got out. Nachin took his wolf form right away.

Five other wolves were approaching. That couldn't be good. Whoever won this fight would probably either want to kill or enslave her.

Three of them leaped towards Kiril. He tossed two of them away almost effortlessly. The third that seemed to be their leader sank his fangs into his arm and tore.

He said something to it in Russian. Mila was so distracted by the scene that it dawned on her only then that nobody was paying attention to her. Energized, she got out of the car and ran into the woods.

The last time she fled into the woods it had quite a crappy outcome, but it seemed the best way at the given moment.

Hopefully, Kiril would be distracted long enough for her to get far away. She had to get back to the road and try to hitchhike. Her adrenaline-fuzed brain didn't fabricate a different idea. 

There were patches of snow and ice on the ground and the high heels were less than adequate for running. Her feet hurt, her hands were frozen and she was afraid to even look back. Hurt and in a torn dress she nurtured the hope that somebody would take pity on her and stop.

After twenty minutes she couldn't decide if taking the shoes off would be better or worse. Those things were not made for running. Likely Kiril chose them on purpose.

Another fifteen minutes later she arrived at the main road. Nobody reached her so far. She walked into the middle of the road. Her red dress would be enough for the cars to see her and hopefully stop... she hoped. 

Only a few minutes later, a black Opel pulled over with creaking wheels. A middle-aged man exited the car cursing at her in probably... Ukrainian.

"Помозите ми!/ Help me!" said Mila in Serbian, hoping that the resemblance between the languages would be enough for them to understand.