Song: Not Alone by Red
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I booked the earliest flight to Russia the next day.
Tomorrow morning I am leaving early in the morning to catch my flight.
I feel bad leaving my family two days after I just got back from serving, but this is my mate and they understand.
But I haven't told them she's a vampire yet.
I have heard horror stories of what the vampires did to my people. They pillaged, raped, and enslaved us by the masses. My own mother was a victim of their violence, as was her entire pack and family.
Even now, decades later after the war, hate is still spewed about the vampire species. The tables have been turned and now, vampires are slaves to the werewolves. Vampires are now beaten to an inch of their lives by the werewolves.
And I find it so hypocritical that the werewolves fought to end slavery yet they jumped at the chance to enslave another species. I thought they were against slavery, yet here they are enslaving another species.
Maybe I don't understand because I didn't grow up in that era. Maybe I don't understand because I've never seen the abuse and suffering my species faced because of the vampires.
Not only that, but it is against werewolf law for any wolf to mate with a vampire. I will be rejected by my pack, my friends, and my family will be disappointed in me.
When I looked upon my mate's beautiful features I knew. I knew right then and there that I would fight for her and our rights to mate. Her name....I don't even know her name. I don't know anything about her.
Her eyes were large and wide with fear and....nothing. Like she had given up on life. Like she had switched off a light and stopped living. But how can one truly live in a situation like she is in?
I go to bed early that night in preparation for my equally as early flight. I have to get up at three in the morning to catch my flight to that small, frozen city in Russia. My mate's scent has been engraved into my memory, my wolf remembering every detail we will need in order to find her.
But I practically get no sleep that night. I toss and turn, lying wide awake on my back and staring up blankly at the ceiling. My eyes burn for sleep and my mind begs for rest, but I cannot bring myself to sleep. My wolf seems to keep whining, crying, and howling for his mate.
My wolf is a bit more sensitive than I. He has cried all night long, and now that he's seen his mate, it's as if he has separation anxiety. Wolves are social creatures, that's why werewolves live in packs.
It's to sate their social instincts.
Being cast out as a rogue wolf causes immense pain for both human and animal. It's a form of social isolation. Wolves depend and care for one another in a pack, so when a wolf is driven from their home, it is painful.
I've heard it feels like your own heart and soul are being twisted and stabbed repeatedly with silver blades.
I'm anxious, too. But his anxiousness is more severe than mine and it keeps me up all night long.
So when morning finally dawns, I am feeling tired. The motivation for revenge fuels my energy as I throw the covers off of my body and grab the small suitcase I had packed for the trip.
The airport is over an hour drive away, and my flight leaves at seven in the morning. It takes at least an hour checking in my suitcase and standing in line at the airport, so I get up at four-thirty in the morning.
I give myself about a half hour to shower and get dressed before I head out the door. The cool, crisp early morning air nips at my skin as I walk out into the land that is still sleeping in the dark.
I begin my journey to the airport in the army green truck I had received for my eighteenth birthday. It's an old truck, with its chipped paint and rickety tires. Despite its age, it still works great. Werewolves generally don't use vehicles, unless it's for an emergency such as this.
So my truck works almost as good as new, however, it seems to be stiff when I start it. It's probably because it hadn't been used for awhile so it takes a little more time warming up.
As I drive to the airport, the sun is slowly rising. The sky becomes dark hues of blues and purples and the twinkling stars are soon tucked away into the light. The soft rays of the sun traces the indents and jagged sides of the mountains that I pass on the narrow, windy road surrounded by trees of all hues of green.
Deer eyes shine in the headlights of my truck. Some of the deer freeze like a statue as they're caught in my headlights, while others dash away into the coverage of the forest beside me.
The world I live in seems to be at peace. And nature, though it can be cruel, still lives in harmony with the environment that has hardly been touched and defiled by mankind and the evils that come with it. Everything is so pure around me.
I live in a much different world than my mate's.
Her world isn't at peace. Her world isn't living in harmony. Her world isn't alive and thriving but dead and dying.
As I look around at the beautiful scenery around me, I want nothing more than to show her that beauty does exist. I want to show her the wild lilies that carpet the field. I want her to feel the green, spring grass tickle her bare toes as she dances in the gentle sun's evening light.
And lastly, I want her to feel the tender love that I can give her. I want to show her that love does exist. I want her to feel the warmth of my hand in hers. I want her to look me in the eyes with her sparkling ones and say with confidence that she is not alone.
And I will.
I will make her experience life with the most radiance possible.
And that's a promise.
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I arrive in Russia when the sun is high in the sky and it seems to be frozen as the sun's rays do not feel warm but feel cold. It had snowed more than last time I was here collecting souls. Each step I take the frozen snow crunches underneath my boots.
And unlike last time, I now can feel the coldness. It's bitter and seems to freeze up my bones. My werewolf abilities kick in, and my wolf awakens inside of me and channels the coldness to himself.
Wolves, unlike the human side, can stand colder temperatures.
I walk through the desolate town that I had found my mate in. Everything is dark and grey and very few people pass me by. The shacks of homes are locked shut to ensure no cold air seeps through them and no one dares to break in them.
Birds fly overhead, no doubt they're heading back to their frozen forest to nest in the crystal branches.
This little town in Russia is in the middle of nowhere. Snowy forests are dotted in the distance, and it isn't uncommon to see the paw-prints of mighty Siberian Tigers imprinted into the snow.
I've noticed that up on the hills, shepherds bundled up in animal fur, herd their shaggy sheep and goats across the barren landscape. Large, woolly sheep dogs follow after the flock, protecting them from any predators such as bears, wolves, and tigers.
The wind screams in my ears and I carry on my way. I hug the thick fur jacket tighter around me and continue down into the old neighborhood I had found my mate in. I walk down the cracked streets, and closing my eyes, I remember the way to take.
I have her scent engraved into my mind, too. Blood.
But her blood blends in with the other scents of blood in this city, so it distorts her scent. I wish I could let my wolf take over because his sense of smell is better than mine, but I know that this city doesn't take too kindly to wolves. Any wolf they see wandering through the city will be shot on sight.
Though their bullets won't kill me, I would risk being exposed if I had to shift back.
And I do not want to run around the entire city trying to escape an angry mob of villagers.
I do manage to track her scent to a nearby whorehouse. Slaves are traded and sold all around and often are bought by individuals who later send them to auction rings where they are later sold into brothels, factories to work in, or individuals who wish to use them as maids.
And the fact that her scent leads to a whorehouse puts fire into my bones. My wolf growls viciously and I can't help the growl that reverberates through my chest and escapes my lips as I walk towards an old brick building at the end of the grey streets.
My wolf detests the thought of another male, or anyone for that matter, laying a hand on his mate. I rightfully agree, and the thought sickens me to my stomach when the thought of rape crosses my mind.
I walk up to the door of the brick building and swing the double wooden doors open with force. "Sir, you can't be in here. The auctions haven't started yet." A guard says, looking at me in the eyes.
I growl and throw him to the ground before I march passed him and into the back where the slaves are being kept. Her scent.....it's here but it's too faint.
It's as if she's not here as the ghost of her scent is lingering.
In the back, cages of shivering, naked, and beaten vampires male and female alike are curled into balls. Their ribs and hips stick out painfully and their fangs have been ripped out. It must have been recently because blood leaks from between their lips and onto the ground.
Vampires are often defanged to reduce bites and aggression. The main reason, though, is part of a process called breaking. Defanging a vampire is to take a part of who they are away from them. It's the ultimate humiliation for vampires, and it damages them.
Of course, their fangs will grow back.
But, the vampires are continuously injected with a serum that stops their vampire abilities such as speed and quick healing.
In fact, as my eyes scan the room, I spot many dirty, used needles lying on the ground from the injections. The victims lie limp in their cages. Some are too broken to move, others look at me in the eyes with fear and cower back farther into their cages.
This has got to change. Even if they were our enemies in the past, something has got to change.
I walk into yet another warehouse-like room with rows of cages stacked atop each other. It is just as dark, dirty, and putrid smelling like the last room. I'm still seething when my eyes land on a pair of irritated brown eyes.
He's the owner of this warehouse, and he's got my mate's scent on him.
I narrow my eyes and lash out at him. My hand shoots out and finds his throat, and in an instant, he's thrown to the ground. "Where is she?" I demand harshly. He pathetically scrambles back onto the floor in an attempt to escape me.
I take heavy steps towards him, growling as I do so. My wolf begins to take over and my claws shoot out. My eyes glow darkly and my voice is deep.
I force my wolf back and drag the other werewolf painfully to his feet. He yelps and tries to pry my fingers from his neck. I bring his face so that he is mere inches away from mine and I look him right in his blood shot eyes wide with terror.
"I said, where. Is. She?" I growl darkly.
"W-who? I-if you need a r-replacement slav-"
"Replacement?!" I roar, my eye twitching in anger, "Why is her scent on you?" I crush his throat a little more.
"Her? W-who? Please I-I don't....I don't know what you m-mean." He wheezes.
Wanting answers, I describe my little mate. "I'm looking for a female vampire with auburn hair, silver eyes, and pale skin." I loosen my hold on his throat so he can speak better.
His eyes widen. "S-sir, there are a couple vampire females matching that description a-and that particular shipment of vampires was shipped off into the local auctions early this morning. T-the auctions are being held tonight."
"Where?" I ask desperately.
"One down the street from here at three o' clock, then another at six o'clock, and the last one is at eight o' clock. T-the one you're looking for s-should be there." He coughs out.
It's now two thirty and I have an auction to attend to.
I drop the scrawny werewolf and he hits the floor with a thud. I don't look back as I feel skin turn to fur.
I lost control of my wolf.