Animals were capable of being trained to follow orders; why not werewolves? Because they were human? Not the feral ones, not really. They were near all animal, all beast. But getting a purely destructive and deadly beast to follow orders...it just didn't seem likely. If they were not being controlled, then what logic was there for two of those unruly things showing up in my town be?
There wasn't any...
Gray looked back to me; the stoic expression he wore so well was fractured, his eyes being the betrayer of...what emotion was laced within them? Worry? Was he worried? Concerned? No, it was something more. Before I could figure out what feeling was flared in those ashen eyes of my lycan, Gray darted his gaze away from me and back to the wreckage. Reflex had me following after his stares.
Nothing more than a heap of splintered wood mixed with various ruined goods, the wagon was quite the sight. To think something could do such damage with nothing more than itself, no tools, no weapons, nothing. A lycan was a weapon in itself capable of, well, this: shredding a merchant caravan, its guards included, in a span of no more than a few minutes. In the blink of an eye.
It'd killed, conquered, and fled—wait.
Eyes narrowing on the rubble wagon, I saw a shift in the debris. Was someone still alive? Action before words, or in my case, action before thought. My feet were taking me straight for the wagon, but not four steps in, Gray's arm wrapped around my waist, bringing me to a halt. "There is someone still alive," I protested, looking over my shoulder to him.
He held no interest in my words, it seemed, his all too serious eyes not leaving the heap of wood. "She's right, there was a motion, there," called out a man as he pointed.
"Why's you just standin' there, then?" asked another, moving towards the survivor's location. "We's gots ta help 'em."
"Don't," Gray stated loudly in warning as he pulled me backwards, putting me so I was once more standing a bit behind him.
"Whatch'ya mean don't?" He continued to approach the wagon. Step by step getting closer to the survivor hidden beneath the splintered wood. "I ain't gonna just let 'em--" Too close.
Pieces of wood flew into the air, seeming to explode from the pile they'd laid in, and out lunged the lone survivor. With a throaty snarl, the creature struck fear into the crowd, as the laying-in-wait beast took the wannabe hero to the ground, all happening within the time it took my eyes to grow wide and heart to skip a beat. The pale beast sank its teeth straight into the shoulder of its new screaming victim, and with a few powerful jerks of its head, tore the majority of the man's left shoulder from his body.
Chaos in it's purest form erupted, and it came time for the townsfolk to divide into groups: those who would flee for their own lives, those who were in too much shock to do anything at all, and those who'd decided they were heroes—that they were protectors. I fell into the second. No coward was I, but a hero neither—at least not in that moment. The thing was a monster, a lycan, the beasts that ravaged a whole village in just a nightfall. Me? I was a small, young woman without a weapon. No way was I capable of being a competent hero, and why be one if there was no hope in helping, where the only outcome was my life being taken? Wasteful were the incompetent wannabe heroes, and I was never one to waste things.
Gray, on the other hand, he was the good man in a storm, already drawing his sword and heading towards the beast with swift movements, leaving me to stand alone. The beast turned its head in our direction, black eyes falling upon Gray, crimson oozing from it's jaws. Oddly enough, instead of rushing straight for my lycan as I'd expected the feral beast to do. Instead, it began to do a hastened survey of its surroundings. Was it looking for a way to escape? To run? Was it going to flee instead of fight mindlessly as most feral would?
The creature's searching stopped; following after what it was staring at, a new sense of dread settled within me. Standing stiff as a board, skin stark white, was a little boy no older than the age of six, his big eyes wide and on the demon dog. No. Just... "No..." The single word slipped quietly from my lips, shock finally fading as reality settled harshly in.
But it was too late. In motion was the werewolf, racing towards the child. Gray wouldn't be able to catch up in time unless he was in wolf form as well, and I prayed to the Gods he wouldn't shift and risk death. Do something, I commanded myself as that deadly hero mentality started to spur up within me, eyes darting quickly around for something—anything that could help. Gaze honing in on one of the fallen guard's back, I saw a bow and quiver, and a plan settled in. Shot the bloody son of a bitch. A soaring arrow would surely catch up to it—if not to kill it, at least weaken it further...
Feet hitting hard against the dusty road, I raced to the dead man, sliding to the ground at his side. Fishing the bow off his back, and retrieving an arrow from his quiver, I stood in a haste, gaze going to where the boy was. Was, where the boy was standing. No longer was he there. Whipping my head about in desperation, it did not take long to locate the beast, and therefore, the boy, who was no hanging from within the lycan's mouth as the beast sprinted away.
There's still a chance, I told myself.
No stranger to a bow, having needed a hobby to pass the time in this no-event town, I could do this. I could make this shot. I had to. Body perpendicular to my target and feet shoulder's length apart, I put the arrow in place while both were facing the ground. In a fluent motion, I began to lift the bow and draw the string with three fingers, one above and two below, until the arrow was eye level and string as far as I could get it and anchored at my cheek. Zoned in on the center of the beast as it continued to flee, I took my aim. Do it. Shot. Relaxing my fingers from the bowstring, the string raced back into it's normal position, sending the arrow flying.
Within the second it took for the arrow to chase after the beast, there was this odd sensation fluttering within me. It was a sensation of helplessness and hopefulness twined together, and reeking full havoc on my insides as it bounced around. I could do nothing but be hopeful, be fully dependent and reliant that the single arrow I shot not only hit the target, but did enough damage to provide results. In truth, I wasn't sure which was worse, the feeling I had last night when fearing for my life, or the one I felt in that moment. Both were awful, but in the end...this one won out.
The seconds it took closed in. Come on... Did it hit?
In long strides, the werewolf continued to run, not even a small hitch in its pace...that was until it fell to the ground in a tumbling fashion. A yelp escaped the creature, the boy having been dropped from its jaws during the fall. The way the beast acted, jumping to its feet after a second of whimpering, I honestly thought I'd done nothing more than startle the damnable thing with my arrow. Like a slap to the ass that caught it off guard, that's all the arrow had been.
But that was enough. The boy was from the wolf's jaws, and Gray along with a few others who'd been running after the creature, were gaining enough to make the beast panic and flee without the kid. So the wolf would escape into the woods...but the child was alive and safe. Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but start to jog out to where the kid was, Gray now kneeling beside the motionless child while the other men continued after the beast into the forest.
"He's alright?" I call as I near, strides slowing to a walk for the rest of the short distance, fearing the boy had taken serious injury during the fall and succumb to death despite being freed of the wolf.
"Alive," Gray told, tone a bit colder than I'd expected from good news like that. The relief I'd had for such a short breath of time was snatched away as my gaze took in the red soaked fabric on the boy, realizing why Gray's voice was as bitter and harsh as it was.
"Was he..." Bitten? With a single nod of his head, Gray confirmed my unfinished question. The lycan hadn't been carrying the boy off by his clothes—why would it? It'd grabbed for whatever it could latch onto...and in this case, it had been the kid's full shoulder. "But...that means."
From behind, I could hear the footsteps and voices of townsfolk as the approached, some calling out to us, but what they were saying I wasn't sure. I wasn't listening, focus drawn too deeply into the dark truth I was having to face.
"He'll be put to death," Gray said the words that couldn't get passed my lips.
Because once bitten, they are no longer human. Once bitten, a beast awakens.
And we are to never spare a beast, by law of the king.
Black and white, always were the laws over lycan.
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A/N: I'm sorry for such the long wait! I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter :D. Let me know whatcha you thought in the comments? Don't forget to vote if you enjoyed it :). Thank you all for sticking with my story so long! It means so much!