Howl

My Blood

"Fuck! This is bullshit!" Slamming my fists on the bathroom sink, I sent a good crack down the middle of it. Jolts of pain scattered throughout my entire body when I touched the scar on my left collarbone. The cut ran from the base of my neck, down my side, and ending with 2 similar cuts above my waist. Claw marks that were coated in poison for my kind. I was ambushed by guards of my parents outside my cabin. I had read the letter finally, it spoke of meeting with me privately in my cabin up in the forest. But it was a trap. I was beaten and thrown around. My father wanted me dead finally. He had grown tired of this nomadic act I put on. He wanted me to need his help.

But instead I ruled the second largest territory in Canada, I was in no pack. And he hated that fact, I was his daughter. I shouldn't be an alpha, let alone a nomad.

I should be someones luna, keeping peace in the pack.

But that was not in my nature. I should've died, they came at me from behind and wrestled me to the ground. Compared to them, I looked like a human. But they were trained in the old ways. Something that was long outdated. I'll admit it got me thinking of death, and how sweet it would've been at that moment. Laying face down in the dirt, white hot pain searing every inch of me.

Tegan appeared in my mind. Her sweet smile. The thought of finally having her longer than a few decades, making her mine, being ready for that commitment this time.

It gave me enough strength to kill them. Lord knows how I did it, but I hid all four bodies. All I remember is waking up with a head in my lap. His dark eyes fixed in horror. Blood stained his skin, the jagged edges of his neck resembled teeth marks, the congealed blood slowly oozing out onto the ground. I killed him and the rest of the guards and I had no feelings of guilt or remorse. My only thought now was to survive for Tegan.

Touching the inflamed skin, a hiss caused me to cringe. Tugging my shirt back down I walked into the kitchen. I needed a drink, but no amount of alcohol was going to numb me. I couldn't get drunk, my metabolism ran at a much higher pace than all humans. Making everything that gave them a high, almost do nothing for me.

Walking hurt, it pulled at the taut skin making jabs of pain shock my body. Leaning on the counter, my breathing became heavier. I would have healed nearly instantly from every cut and bruise they inflicted on me, had they not used a certain poison on their claws.

As I said before we're not immortal, but it takes a lot to do so. And none of the legends are fully truthful. Silver doesn't burn us, we're allergic to it but not deathly so, Holy water, crosses, and prayer doesn't harm us. A lot of my kind are Catholic. But there is one thing that can cause us pain for an extended period of time. Wolfsbane.

If the toxins are extracted carefully and properly then it can almost be deadly to us. Using that information, it would take a great deal of it to do so. But the guards used just enough of it for it to get into my system, or they had only used some before I fought back. It causes our temperature to drop below normal, even so for humans, and hallucinations, which are similar to those when someone drops acid.

It also slows our heart rate, our blood thickens, and it makes us lethargic. We require a lot more blood when we're poisoned by it. And that was a huge problem for me at the moment. Being sick, I was in no shape to hunt.

I had to call in favors, ones I was going to regret.

-

Sitting in my car, I watched people walk in and out of the donation center, looking happy with themselves even if they looked extremely pale. Looking down at my hands, licking my lips in anticipation for my supply.

I had contacted an old friend. She was also a wolf, a millenium or two younger than I, but she was a specialist. A doctor for the wolves. And she happened to be working at a blood center here in Montreal.