Wolfsbane- Chapter One in the Warren Pack Series

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: A little POV change- welcome to Rowan's mind for awhile! 

Wolfsbane

Chapter 18

Rowan

Ah...alone on a Friday night. I thought to myself as I waved off my parents at the front door, just out of reach of the pouring rain. Apparently another marriage counselling weekend at some spa retreat this time. Oh well, anything to keep them from arguing at all hours.

I stood in the hallway for a minute, breathing a sigh of relief at the silence. I loved Toby and Bran, but sometimes it was nice to be alone.

And what was there for an eighteen year old boy to do when he's alone? Set up the Xbox on the home cinema TV! I leaped up the stairs two at a time to grab my console, the cables and my headset, this night was so needed after all the late night runs.

I was about to settle down on one of the overstuffed sofas when I heard it. An ear-splitting scream knocked me to my knees, clutching my head in pain. I felt the presence of my wolf, often stashed away in the corners of my mind, roar to life in defence.

ALPHA. Hermes wasn't as well spoken as Bran's, probably because I had him subdued most of the time. I just didn't take to this whole thing as well as she did, it was still unnatural even if it was the work of a goddess.

"What?" I yelled above the screeching.

IN TROUBLE. SAVE HER.

My eyes snapped open as I took in his words. Bran was in danger.

I ran down the corridor, across the kitchen, and out through the back, shifting into my half-form in the process. I hated the feeling of the shift, but I would do anything for either of them, especially if they were in danger.

Thunder now accompanied the summer downpour, the booms throbbing in my sensitive ears. My socks were shreds scattered across the back lawn by now, but allowed for my new claws to grip onto the slick ground as I sprinted towards the scream, now fading from my mind, but something else was triggering my senses. The scent of clean, soft rain, out of place in the storm, Bran's scent.

I pushed my body forward and tracked down her scent, and found myself breaking through the trees, a mile south of the bridge onto the island of Anglesey, to some fields, freshly sown with new seeds. The brown fields were devoid of colour, except for a flash of blonde and light blue shorts.

"Bran?!" I called out to her, rushing to her side. She had her back to me, and was on her knees, completely soaked through. Her blonde hair was darker as it clung to her neck and face, the white top she wore almost see-through.

She made no sign that she heard me, her hands, grinding into the dirt either side of her. A gust of wind rose goosebumps on her bare arms, but she didn't shiver in the cold.

"Bran!" I called out, my voice hoarse from the shift.

I touched her soaked shoulder, she was so cold. How did she end up all the way here without shifting? Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was mouthing words, but her face was scrunched up like she was concentrating on something. Either way, this wasn't normal.

I carefully reached around her back and her knees to lift her into my arms without hurting her. She went limp in my arms, her head lolling against my chest as I turned back towards the house. She needed to warm up, and fast.