Chapter Eleven

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Rage could smell them, the pungent smell of the Turned

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Rage could smell them, the pungent smell of the Turned. There was no mistaking it for anything else.

Rage looked at his brother, locking eyes with him before the both stalked to the door.

Fury flung the door open and they were hit will a wall of smell. The sickly and decaying smell, as if they were all on their death bed, flooded their noses.

"You were hunting Turned?" He asked, widening his eyes at his brother. He was shocked, no one hunted them but him.

They were more vicious than Rogues and were rare. Human's rarely survived an attempt to be turned, their bodies not strong enough to fight the change in their DNA and most died during the transition.

There was a reason humans weren't turned anymore, and the snarling beast flocking the parking lot was that reason.

Even years after turning, their body fights against itself, causing the Turned to weaken. Their skinny bodies held no meat, no fat, only skin hanging off of their bones. They smelled sick and dying, they looked it, and they were.

It's why most werewolves now are born and why most are fit and very healthy. Generations of nature weeding out the weak.

A few doors opened and quickly slammed shut as people tried to see what all the noise was. Only one man, four doors down, stepped out, his tired face looks at the group before running his hand through his hair with a sigh.

"They with you?" His deep voice asked as his blue eyes saw the brothers.

"Why the hell would they be with us?" Fury cursed at the man, offended that he was grouped with a bunch of sickly Turned.

The man only shrugged, looking out at the dozen wolves.

"They aren't with me," they watch the man pad bear foot to them, his low hanging shorts the only thing covering his body.

"Are they here for you?" He asked, his blue-gray eyes looking sternly at them. He was giving off an aura like their father would, before smacking them in the head and reprimanding them.

"I was hunting them..." Fury growled, looking at the wolves. None of them were moving as they snarled, all of their eyes focused on the three men.

The older man nodded his head before looking them over, his eyes holding Fury's before turning to look at Rage's.

"You Wulf's?" He asked, the brothers nodded and the man smirked, "thought so, I'd recognize those eyes anywhere,"

One of the wolves howled, drawing their attention, clearly getting impatient. The others followed before they began to slink forward, heads down as they bared their teeth.

"Want some help? Been a while since I fought," I wicked smile crossed his face as he watched them grow closer.

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

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