From the moment Jan woke up in his cave, he knew something was wrong; a sense of urgency was beating at his breast. A sniff of the air told him there were no wolves nearby, yet his hackles raised at an unseen threat.
The wolf. Ethan. That's what the younger boys had called him.
He could feel it now: the pull from the boy was strong. It yanked on his consciousness, threatening to drag him down into the bowels of Gaia. A heavy stone settled in the pit of his belly as a result, and he felt the first brush of panic freezing his heart.
Jan buried his arm into the cold earth, seeking the direction of the wolf. He found it: a frantic tug, pulling him eastward.
The wolf had moved.
The knowledge fanned the flames of his anxiety.
Had the witches come for Ethan, or was he running away?
Throwing caution to the wind, Jan burst out of his hideaway and made a mad dash towards the pull.
He arrived at the camp just before the students stepped out of the big wooden building. In his frantic search for the tall curly-haired wolf, he nearly ran into the tracker.
That insufferable old mongrel!
The man was good. Once again, he had come within sight of Jan before the vampire could detect his presence.
Jan reversed, sprinting away from the campfire and his prey. Once he was far out of sight of the wolves, he climbed up a tree and waited.
The moon hung full and bright, and a gentle breeze waved the leaves around. But smokey darkness clung to the vampire, obscuring his form so that he seemed like one with the tree. No one looking up would see him there.
As he expected, the wolves came barreling down, hardly sparing a moment to sniff the air.
Wretched mongrels.
Jan waited and listened.
There were more paws scuffling the dirt around him. More Lycans had joined the search, but they were spreading out, away from him.
Once the last one passed out hearing, he descended from his perch, slithering between the branches and not putting a single leaf out of place. Staring after the departed hunters, he considered his options.
The wolves would pick up his scent again when they came back this way. If he headed straight back to the camp, he would not have enough time to find the curly-haired boy before they tracked him down.
And if you find him, what would you do, Jan?
He still did not know the answer to that. All he knew was he had to get to the wolf now.
So slinking between the shadows, he mapped a circular path around the camp, leaving obvious tracks for the hunters to find.
That would keep them busy for a while, he thought before making a beeline for the camp while taking care to keep his route hidden.
Jan found Ethan just as he and another Lycan were sneaking away from the camp, hauling a third boy between them. His eyes narrowed at seeing the young giant embrace another who was not family.
Who is the wolf he's hugging?
Before he could investigate further, he spied another group of four break off from the crowd at the camp to follow them. This second party kept their distance, slipping between the trees as if they did not want to be seen. A gut feeling told him to ward off the pursuers but bit down on that impulse.
Why should I involve myself if wolves decide to fight each other?
Yet, no matter how uninterested he pretended to be, Jan did not stray far from them. He trailed after the two groups up to the distillery and then hid in the shadows to observe.
He watched the stalkers charge into the building after Ethan, and he did not interfere. He heard the scrapes and yelps as the fight broke out, yet he stayed put.
It isn't my business, he told himself even as his gut clenched.
But the wind carried a potent essence to his nose, and it challenged his resolve to remain neutral. Fragrant and rich, the scent of that blood brought on a rage he had not prepared for. Anger boiled over his reasoning, and his body demanded action. His eyes turned deep red, his fangs extended, and he was halfway to the distillery door before he realized what was happening.
He entered the building, and his blood-tinged irises adjusted to limited lighting.
Ethan was against the wall, fighting a losing battle against three wolves. The rabid canines tore mercilessly at his arms and legs, trying to bring him down for the kill.
How dare those mangy curs go after my prey?
Jan's blood rage soared to heights he had never felt since the night he slit his sister's throat. He hissed: a long rattling sound that drew the attention of the wolves around him. Then, all the fighting around him ceased.
His talons lengthened, curbing down to lethal points, and one of the wolves whined.
The midnight-black wolf among the savages at Ethan's feet curled its muzzle back, growling at him. The others flanking him picked up on his cue.
Jan sprang forward, slashing and slicing, pushing the three away from the curly-haired Lycan.
A speckled grey-brown wolf circled around and tried to attack the vampire from behind while his focus was on the other two. Jan whirled, smacking its snout aside. Then grabbing its fur, he raised it up by the hackle and hind led and slammed it on the floor, where it lay motionless. The satisfying sound of broken bones and cracked stone did nothing to appease Jan's rage.
How dare they touch what was mine!
Another foolish wolf jumped in, trying the same trick.
He side-stepped while the canine was mid-air and struck. With the speed of a deity-blessed predator, Jan's sharp nails tore through fur and muscle, plunging his hand through the ribs and up into the heart. He held the impaled wolf up and watched it scrabble at his arms and legs, trying to get free.
The steaming lifeblood of the Lycan streamed down his arm to pool at his feet. Unlike the sweet aroma of the boy, the scent from this blood nauseated him.
With a cold smile that failed to reach his eyes, Jan turned to the midnight-black wolf left standing. It stared at the two dead friends, and then its tail dipped down between the legs. The vampire tossed the corpse at the coward's feet, and the wolf flinched, shuffling back with its ears flattened.
Whimpering, it shuffled around Jan and bolted out the door. Another scrambled out after it, but he did not bother to chase them.
He was rooted in place. The wonderful ferric smell coming from the Lycan held him captive. The curly-haired one he had watched for days from the shadows.
Ethan's blood.
A/N
Hi lovelies, thanks for reading.If you loved it don't forget to vote, comment and add to your library.
The moment we've all been waiting for guys.
I would love to here your feedback on the story in general and this chapter in particular.
What did you like?
And what didn't you like?
What did you think about the characters: Ethan,Brent and Eri?
Next chapter is already being edited. I will post it in a couple of days.
Ciao!
JE LEEST
Blooded Mate
Fantasy[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
