Poison and Bane

1. Chance encounter.

My eyes were pulled to the direction from which I was thrown into the water.

And then I saw it.

There stood, on the pier, a giant of a dog. No, not a dog. Larger, longer and more pointy ears, bared fangs that each looked like ivory daggers. A wolf. And no ordinary wolf at that.
A lycanthrope. I'd heard tales from the lycan hunters, who were very few in numbers because of the mortality rate of the job, of monstrous wolves that could stop your heart by the mere sight of their grim being.

My heart would have, if not for the cold that was forcing it to keep beating. Or maybe, I was going into an arrest.

It loomed over the water, from atop the boulder hill, the sirens were nowhere to be seen. It's black pelt almost blending into the dark like paint on a canvas, save for its eyes. They sparkled not glowed, the moonlight bouncing off them in a myriad of colours. Were they golden, grey or hazel, I couldn't tell. But they froze me in place more than the water did.

My senses seemed to have failed me, because a sudden tug on my leg dragged me right down into the murky depths.

Beneath the waves, the dark seemed impenetrable and I could only feel the webbed fingers clawing at my suit, my mask, looking for a weak spot. My mask was ripped off and my hair swam, cloaking my face, making it even more difficult to see.

My arm blindly swept the dagger about, hoping to injure a siren or two. Even worse was the eerie silence, that's when it struck why I didn't hear the lycan coming nor the sirens. The silencer. I plucked the earpieces out and everything came to life.

Muffled screeches echoed through the water and I almost regretted removing the ear pieces. But I could discern their direction of attack better now, I swung my dagger in the direction of the churning water, and earned a deafening screech. My dagger came away stained with a silvery substance.

Before I could do any more intentional damage, I was being pulled towards the surface. My arms felt like they were about to pop their sockets but I was breathing pure oxygen again.

I spluttered and coughed after being dropped on the sandy floor. Water and grime was all around me and I was lying right in the middle it. Finally I looked up to see who I had to thank for the timely rescue.

I found sparkling eyes looking down at me. The same eyes that watched me struggle in the water after shoving me into it's depths.

I scrambled to my knees, feeling around the wet sand for my dagger. The handle fit into my palm like it always had and I felt adrenaline surge through me.

It was a boy, a man. Probably around my age or maybe a little older. He looked Asian, but with more sharp and angular features. His silver hair formed a halo around his head as he continued to glare at me. His jaw clenched tight, he glowered down at me along the length of his nose.

Externally, he was just, no, he was a very attractive looking guy. But I knew what he really was. He was just like me. A killer.

"I'm not afraid of you."

Why I had to make that clear to him, I'll never know but I felt like a moron once I'd said it.

He seemed to think so too, because he snorted and turned his back on me.

Wrong move, mister.

I sprung from my place on the sand, dagger pointing right at his back, face drawn into a grim line. But I hadn't even grazed his shirt, before I was being pinned down.

I couldn't control my breath, nor could I stop staring into those eyes. They looked murderous and it was all directed at me.

"I save your life, and is this what you give in return? Backstabbing is low, even for you, Huntress,"

His voice was low and smooth, his accent blending the words together, and it went right through me. A slight growl rumbled through his chest at the word 'huntress', and I felt the vibrations from him being pressed against me. The tips of his fringe grazed my forehead, looking like tinsel in the moonlight.

"Get. Off. Me." I managed to bite out, still unable to look away from his face. There was a small piercing on his lower lip, but otherwise his face was blemishless. His mouth pulled in a snarl at my statement.

"My pleasure," he rose and dusted his hands, letting the sand rain over me, then walked off.

It took me a while to sit up and even longer to remember that I was sitting at the beach on a night that was already welcoming October winds, wet and shook.

It was after I reached my apartment and sank to the floor that I realized the scariest part of it all.

I had survived a lycanthrope. And he knew what I looked like.

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So this is my first BTS fanfiction. But it's not one I was planning to work on. This book is solely dedicated to BYEOLI18 because she, like myself, loves Tae and is obsessed with werewolves. So why not? READ. COMMENT. VOTE.