I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Who Are You?

I snarled, drawing back pink gums to show pearly white teeth. Whatever the hell these two were planning, it couldn't be good.

The blonde canine snarled right back, throwing its head forward and rolling its shoulders. Seeing it up close, it looked like a mix - a wolf hybrid. It was smaller than I was, its paws only about half the size of mine.

First-generation? I asked myself. My father had told me a long time ago that the further skinwalkers strayed from their human roots, the more animalistic they got. The larger, stronger, and more wolfish they became. Despite my father telling me this, I had never seen another purebred, aside from him.

Another light flicked on in the house, catching my attention. I heard a scuffle from the second floor and my ears suddenly went high, eyes widening.

The other one had disappeared.

Shit!

The flaxen wolf snarled at me, taking a step forward. It was littered with small scars, clearly showing fighting experience. My eyes whipped between the door and the wolf, my mind racing. Noticing my panic, he lunged forward and nearly bowled me over with his heavy front paws. The other animal's paws collided with my shoulder, shoving me to the side and it in the opposite direction. Before it could whirl around and snap at me, I was already running through the front door.

I could feel it practically snapping at my heels as I ran through the house, winding my way through the kitchen and dining room before I finally found stairs to the second floor. I took the steps three at a time, how I managed in such a not-stair-friendly form, I will never know.

I heard a shot from one of the few rooms on the second floor. With a snarl, I raced towards the second room on the right, the door swung open and its hinges broke. There, I stopped, my eyes not believing the scene before me.

And an old man was beating my fellow skinwalker over the head with a dusty old lamp, the lampshade laying off to the side. I yipped at the old man and he turned, his eyes full of hatred and anger.

He threw the lamp.

He threw a fucking lamp at me.

I dodged, ducking out of the doorway and back into the hall, only to see the lamp hit my golden pursuer directing in the face, its green eyes widening. It yipped in shock and fright before falling head over tail.

I cautiously poked my dark nose around the door frame, hoping to avoid any other projectiles. Instead, I heard a scuffle and many colorful swear words. Leaping through the doorway yet again, I saw the skinwalker attacking the old man, who, to my surprise, was fighting back quite well. A snarl escaped my lips as my paws pounding across the creaking wooden floors, and lept onto the back of my fellow monster, digging my teeth into his shoulder. My size nearly encased his body and pushed him over backward. I shook my head ferociously, tearing at the tendons and muscle in his broad shoulder. He screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth.

With one final tug and a rake of my claws I lept off his back and back onto the floor, fangs bared and ready to pounce again. I jumped suddenly and yelped, feeling harsh needles digging into my tail. I whipped around to see the blond wolf burying its teeth into my tail. With another rage-filled snarl, I smacked a heavy, clawed paw down on its face, raking down its forehead and knocking it down. It refused to let go and kept gnawing on my tail.

Bastard.

I snapped my jaws at him and spun until my teeth were sunk into the back of its neck, grabbing the scruff and yanking. It let go of my tail with a hiss, only to fly across the room into a rickety old bed. The man was nowhere to be seen now, but I could hear his feet thundering down the stairs.