The Alpha's Huntress

Chapter 4

Everything within me shut down as it stalked from the bushes and into the moonlight where I could see it.

"Definitely not a lycan," I breathed as it circled me. It was a werewolf and easily one of the most grotesque things I had ever seen, something straight out of a nightmare. Its razor sharp claws and teeth glistened like knives. Its body was large and hunched over. And it desperately needed a bath, given the smell of its greasy, matted brown fur.

I made the first move, firing a shot toward its forehead, but it lunged. The bullet barely grazed its head. Before I had a chance to fire again, it hit me full force in the chest.

Air exploded from my lungs on impact, my body flying back, tumbling over roots, rocks, and dirt.

Shock seized my trembling limbs as I rolled to a stop, my body aching as I tried peeling myself off the floor. I didn't get far.

The beast pinned my shoulders to the ground, snarling and snapping its rank breath blowing across my cheek.

I brought my knees up before it got a chance to chew on my face, bracing my feet against its chest, and threw him off. He flew through the air, yelping when he smacked into a tree. I shot to my feet, knowing what to expect from it now.

"Not so fun when your victims fight back," I breathed, wiping blood from my mouth, then realized I'd lost my guns.

I desperately dropped my gaze, searching the ground, when I spotted it lying ten feet to my left. My heart pounded relentlessly as I lunged for my weapon, but I wasn't fast enough.

The beast struck me again with a fast swipe.

I came crashing down, landing on the ground a mere foot from my target. The sudden stop knocked the wind from my lungs, but nothing compared to the excruciating pain in my ankle.

I reached for my pistol, but the beast bit down, yanking me back. I shrieked, my cry of agony covering the crack of bone. Panic overwhelmed me as I clawed at the dirt, trying to reach my gun, when–

"Eve!" Pop's voice was a beacon to my soul and a distraction for the beast.

It released my leg and turned its head towards my father's voice, giving me time to pull a jagged silver blade from my boot. Bearing weight on my good leg, I pounced on the creature, hissing in pain as I used all my weight to knock it on its back and plunged the knife deep into its chest, right into its heart. It screeched as it clawed at me, trying to dislodge my body from on top of his. I felt my clothes and skin being shredded by its claws. My side felt like they were on fire, like the beast had ripped the very skin from my bones, but I would not relent. I twisted the knife deeper until, finally, the monster stopped moving.

"Eve!" Pops plucked me off the werewolf and cradled me close to his chest. Roary ran up behind Pops and placed a silver bullet in its skull for good measure.

We stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the dead body. Pops finally broke the moment's tranquility, pushed me at arm's length, and inspected my injuries.

My ankle buckled, and I fell forward with his arms no longer around me. He caught me, scooped me up in his arms, and gently placed me against a tree.

"It's broken," he said after pulling my boot off.

"Hurts like hell now that the adrenaline has worn off." I tried to keep the agony from my voice, but my ankle throbbed with pain, and I was too afraid to look down at the damage inflicted on my sides.

I braved a glance at my ankle. It was swollen, a bruise already beginning to form, but there were no teeth puncture wounds. I sighed in relief; I definitely was not in the mood to turn into a monster tonight.