The Heat #WATTYS2019

Chapter 36

     He tried to get up, feebly snapping at Fenris. The whitish wolf was about dive in for the kill like a hungry shark when the wind suddenly shifted.

     Female.

     The Wolf was female.

•••

     Out of the corner of the only eye I had, I saw Fenris skid to a stop as he was about to go in for the kill of one of the Wolves.

     At the same time, a wave of confusion assaulted the bond, making me wonder what had happened to cause such powerful feelings. Only intense emotions were conveyed like that through the bond. Otherwise it was just slight shivers I usually didn't notice.

     I swirled on my haunches and ran to him, leaving my half-defeated adversary. Anyway, it wasn't like he could go very far with guts spilling and a mind fifty percent annihilated by my power. It was sad, really, that some Wolves could fight so well but didn't have the required mental strength to become powerful. In this world, if you didn't have both, you were smushed to the ground.

     I reached Fenris just in time for him to punch a large paw on the wolf's head, knocking him out cold.

     Wait.

     Not him.

     Her.

She's a female, I ventured.

    Maybe my sense of smell had failed me for the first time in my life?

Yes. I can't kill a female. It's immoral.

     Fenris seemed distraught.

She tried to kill you, I deadpanned.

Still! You don't hit females!

Fenris I'm as powerful as you are. If I tried to kill you, would you let yourself be hurt just because I'm a female and you 'don't hit females'?

It's different.

No it's not. Now come back to battle. There's just one left and Etna is having all the fun. It's not fair.

Yes, Alpha.

     I shivered as he called me by my title. It was hot, the way he submitted without actually submitting. We were equals after all.

     When we arrived at the site of the ambush, there were corpses everywhere, and my Pack was covered in splatters of blood. Etna's whole face had been dyed that crimson color, whereas Morrigan's pale coat had turned the dark red liquid pink. Lycaon had black fur, black fur that was so dark it seemed it absorbed shadows. He looked like Bás, the Death God. The thought swept over me and disappeared before it had even been registered.

     Teras was a picture from Hell. His creamy undersides almost matched the crimson top of his body. His eye was alive with thirst for battle, to maim, to kill. Death flashed in that amber iris, and saliva dripped from frothing fangs. He looked enraged.

     However, it changed as soon as he laid his eye on her. The deadly glimmer faded into concern, his hackles relaxed, his chops came back down over the white teeth, and now the only thing that could have hinted he'd been in battle was the blood splattering the creamy fur of his belly.