My paws pound on the moss-covered forest floor.
My breath comes in ragged pants.
My lanky legs carry me in no clear direction with no decided destination. The wind is chilled and caresses my face as my four-footed furry body twists and weaves through the dense pine trees of northern Vermont. Vermont had been my home as well as the home of 300 other werewolves that called the StoneRidge pack family. For all of my 18 years, I had called it home too, but today had changed. No longer was I welcome in Vermont territory. The venomous howls that followed me were a clear reminder.
I pushed my body to run faster. My wolf ached from overexertion but what do you expect when you are running for your life. I knew that the moment I stopped to rest they would be on me taking my life. They had killed my pack. They murdered my baby sister in front of me. For a second the image of her big blue eyes widened in fear while glistening tears rolled down her rose-red cheeks invaded my head. So badly my wolf wanted to howl in sorrow. She wanted blood to be spilled and I knew that with my training I could hold my own. I had actually been in the process of becoming a warrior for my now deceased pack. But because of them those dreams had been dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky.
It had been a regular evening. I had just arrived back from training and entered the pack house when alpha Jason's voice echoed in my head through the pack link, a chain of communal thoughts among pack members.
"Rouge pack attack! Everyone under lockdown. Warriors to your stations!"
Immediately the shouts and screams of my fellow pack members echoed through the compound's hundreds of rooms. I stood frozen as people ran all around me looking for family members and friends. Their voices all blurred in my head as I stood in shock in the middle of it all. This was the first attack since the one my parents had been killed in. Four years ago a group of five rouge wolves had pranced into our territory with the knowledge that they were outnumbered. It wasn't even a fair fight. They knew it was a suicide mission but they wanted to see how many members of our pack they could take with them. Both my mother and my father had been pack warriors and were called to help defend the borders. They had died in combat, an honorable death in the werewolf community. But it hadn't felt honorable to me. They had left my sister and me all alone-
My sister!
Suddenly, I was awakened from my trance. Evelyn. Evelyn. Sweet innocent Evie was all alone in our room. I immediately raced down the hall pushing people out of my way as I ran to the stairwell. I cursed my decision to have an apartment on the top floor. There were 10 levels of living space and Evie was on the top floor probably scared out of her 7-year-old mind. I raced up the stairs flight after flight as adrenaline flooded my body. Within a minute I had used my all enhanced speed possible to reach the top floor. By now it had been emptied of any people but I could faintly smell the lemon scent that was unique to Evie.
Somewhere outside I could hear the screams of my pack members and every so often a small stab of pain went through my head marking the death of each individual in my pack. Every time someone died I could feel it and the numbers kept increasing. This wasn't a random attack, it was planned. My heart stuttered as I thought of our odds. My pack was strong but we hadn't been a true warrior pack for years. Unexpected battles wouldn't treat us kindly. I could only hope that someone would come and help in the fight, turning the tides in our favor.
I started to panic as I neared our wood door and kicked it open with all my strength. It shattered into scraps of fire kindling like it would in a James Bond movie but this wasn't a stunt like they had on those Disney shows Evie loved so much. This was life or death.
"Evie!" I screamed into our small two-bedroom apartment. I raced into the kitchen and it was empty besides the abandoned bowl of cereal that was most likely Evies. Sweat started to form on my brow as I hurriedly searched the apartment.
YOU ARE READING
His Queen
Werewolf*COMPLETED* He is cruel She is broken Onalee (Ali) has stared death in the face more then once in her 18 years. She knows loss and pain better then anyone. After Ali's pack was killed she was captured and tortured for the enjoyment of her captors...
