We'd finally tracked down the bastards who had taken my brother, Caine. Our dad was Clan leader, therefore my brother and I were always big targets.

This time Caine had been captured by a group of rogues for leverage. The rogues thought if they had our future leader captured, we'd let them escape alive.

As if, the plan is usually always the same. Get in there, and kill any and all werewolves.

Every Hunter of our Clan had their own reasons for despising werewolves. Personally, for me it was a long line of hatred towards werewolves from my ancestors. It only became worse when an Alpha killed my Mum right in front of me. Out of all werewolves, I hate Alphas the most.

For those of you who don't know what a Clan is, it's basically a group of werewolf hunters. There are Clans all over the world, abiding by different rules. I'm part of the Blood Rose Clan. We've kept werewolves out of Idaho for centuries.

In a Clan you're born into your position. There is a leader, second, third, and then everyone else. Of course, if people think you're not doing your job right they can challenge you for the title. Though, no one in Blood Rose has challenged anyone in the past five decades.

The reason Caine is becoming leader instead of me, is because he was born first. I'm the future second command. The current second's wife had cancer and now she can't have kids. So in the end, it all kind of worked out.

We surround the rusty warehouse.

I mean seriously, a warehouse? Real original.

Dad is the first to move in. He runs up to rotten woody door and busts it down. Everyone follows Dad's lead and rushes into the building. I file in last.

We run directly into a dimly lit room. Everyone is fighting, two wolves against one Hunter.

I'm been strictly instructed to get Caine in and out of here.

Damn, he isn't is this room. I notice a bunch of rogues directing everyone away from a hidden stairway.

I guide myself along the wall, unnoticed. If a rogue even shot a look my way, my reply was a bullet to the head.

I sprint up the stairs. A brutally beaten Caine is sitting in the middle of the room, tied to his chair.

My hate for werewolves flares deep within me, growing larger.

Werewolves always make us seem like the bad guys. But if they stayed away from our land and families we wouldn't have to attack.

Caine yells a warning from under his duct tape.

I turn around just in time as a burly wolf tackles me to the ground.

No, I don't have any super strength, but I've been trained to use my instinct to the fullest extent.

When fighting, it doesn't matter how strong you are if you waste it with a bad technique. That is one of the only reasons I've survive, I have the best technique.

I wrap my hands around the wolf's neck, to put some distance between me and his teeth.

I dig my knee under his rib. He whine and adjusts his weight to his left side.

With my other leg, a push all my power into his right.

He instantly collapses to my side.

My hand instinctively reaches for my knife.

With a flick of my wrist, it's buried into his side.

I raise myself off the ground and walk back towards Caine. I don't want to watch the werewolf's slow death. No, I don't regret what I did, but I'm not heartless, I don't find instant pleasure in others' pain.

I rip the duct tape off of Caine's mouth.

"About time." He jokes.

"Shut up, I gotta get you out of here." I say annoyed.

That's Caine for you, literally making a joke of everything. Not gonna lie, I'm the same way.

Caine tries standing up on his own, but falls to the ground instantly.

"They busted my damn leg." He cruses.

"Come on, let me help you up." I say with an out stretched hand.

With a grunt he is off the ground and has a secure arm wrapped around me.

We make our way down the stairs, and without checking, walk into the room where everyone was fighting.

A rogue steps in front of us, growling lowly.

Dammit, I left my knife upstairs and Caine is covering up my gun.

Battle strategies fly through my head, and nothing goes over what to do when a rogue is about to pounce and you'reholding your injured brother up.

Everything seems to go in slow motion.

The rogue's muscled tensed as he prepared to lunge. He soars through the air, teeth bared and claws out.

Within a split second, instead of looking at the wolf I'm looking at the back of Aunt Ronnie's head.

Caine yanks us both to the ground, just in time to see our Aunt go soaring over us.

 A scream gets caught in my throat as I watch the merciless rogue savagely kill Aunt Ronnie.

I just seemed to stare at the half eaten body forever.

I don't notice Dad shooting the rogue down. Or that had been the last rogue left to fight. I hardly felt some other Clan members drag me away.

One thing I did know was my Aunt was dead and it was my fault.

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