Destined for Disaster ✔️

Chapter 45

The werewolves turned back into their human forms, one by one. They were all male – large, broad, imposing. Golden Dawn patrol, Ryleigh figured. She also figured she was a dead woman.

She smiled. "Hiya there! How's it going? Bad weather, huh?"

"Shut up," one of the men said. They moved around her, one on every side of her. She stood still, keeping her eyes fixed on the one in front of her – the one that had spoken. The man stepped forward and grabbed her neck, right where her throat and shoulder met. He turned her, taking stock of her injuries. "Rough night?"

"I've had worse. I was on my way to Golden Dawn when I ran into a feral wolf. Are you guys patrol?"

"On your way to Golden Dawn?" the man said, letting his eyes slowly inch up and down her body.

"Yes. I'm seeking refuge."

"Seeking refuge at Golden Dawn?"

"Yes – I'm sorry, do I not speak clearly? You keep repeating everything I say like I'm not making sense."

"You're not," one of the other men said, chuckling. "Why would you seek refuge at Golden Dawn?"

"Well, I'm originally from the Royal Wolves. They're awfully – how should I put it? – self-righteous. I'm sick and tired of it. I've always favoured the grey area, if you know what I mean. I've gotten in a spat of trouble there, got kicked out. I'm a rogue, if you will."

"That so," the leader said.

Ryleigh nodded. "I've heard great things about Golden Dawn. Well, not great, necessarily, but great for my purposes. You guys hold a grudge against Alder, and it so happens I do too. I'm a pretty decent fighter. I can be of use to your pack. Will you take me to your alpha?"

"You said you ran into a feral wolf?"

"Yes. I certainly didn't scratch myself open like this. I beat it, though. Like I said: pretty decent fighter."

"So where is it?" the man asked.

"Pardon?"

"The corpse. Where is it?"

"Some way back." She made a vague gesture in the direction she thought she'd come from. "You can go look for it, if you want. Not sure why you should want to – it was a really ugly fellow. So, does your pack take refugees or not? Otherwise I had better move on to the Crimson Claws. They're not my first choice, but they'll do."

"Here's the thing," the man said. He was easily a head taller than Ryleigh, so she had to crane her neck to look at him. "I don't believe you."

"Is that so?" She shrugged, ignoring the whining ache in her shoulder. "Well, I don't know what to say to make you believe me. Why would I –"

"You talk too much," he said, tightening his hold on her neck. She gasped for air and wanted to step away from him, but he jerked her back. "You know what I think? I think you're a Midnight Mutt."

"A Midnight – you think I'm from Midnight Moon? Honestly, if I had been born into that tedious pack, I would have drowned myself in the river a long time ago. They're Alder's lap dogs. Do I look like a lap dog?"

"I wouldn't mind having her in my lap," a third man said, and they all chuckled at that.

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I set myself up for that one. Look, I'm cold and hurt. If you're not going to take me to Golden Dawn, I'll be on my merry way. Would you let go of me already?"

"O, we'll take you to Golden Dawn," the man said, grinning. He moved his hand higher up her throat, forcefully cupping her face. His thumb roughly traced her cheekbone. "I think our alpha wouldn't mind taking a look at you."