The Wolf's Marine

Badly Injured

Narrator's Pov.

The first light of dawn falls across the pack house and its surrounding houses, or at least what remains of them. The war is over, the Bloody Fang Pack has won. The light will help them count their dead and realize just how few of their pack is left.

Counting the dead doesn't matter to Wilder though, all he wants to do is find Storm and make sure she's okay.

He searches erratically, the smell of burnt bodies disorienting him for a few minutes. It's the second time today that he wishes he didn't have a werewolf's sense of smell.

"Storm where are you?" He calls out into the smoke once he's regained his bearings. Even with no response Wilder continues searching, each body that's not Storm gives him hope that she might still be alive.

While scanning over the bodies near the pack house he spots something partially under one of the rogue's corpses that's shiny. He grabs the rogue and grimaces when he feels its burnt skin against his hands. He tries to think about anything else as he drags the rogue off of the shining object.

He drags the corpse three feet and then drops it. He goes to the object and grabs it, relieved that it doesn't feel like more burnt skin. It's a gun with its stock badly charred. There's only one person he knows that was shooting a gun during the fight.

"She has to be here somewhere!" Wilder whoops in excitement. His belief in Storm still being alive fueling him onward.

His excitement is short lived though. It's when he's walking past the pack house to search the street next to it that he sees his sister's decapitated head. His first reaction is to vomit, and he does, all over the place.

Once his guts are empty he goes to his sister's head and cries. "I'm sorry Delaney Rose. I'm so sorry." Big sobs wrack his chest and he sinks to his knees.

In the pack house the mother is trying her best to drag the rogue off of Storm. It's so hard to move dead bodies after giving birth.

Finally the weight is gone and Storm slowly opens her eyes just to be blinded by the light. "Great, I'm dead. Now how am I supposed to fight?" She grumbles, sitting up to find her whole body in pain.

"You're not dead. You saved my son and I's lives." The mother's voice causes Storm to look her direction. "I'm not dead." It comes out as almost a whisper. "I'm not dead!" The second time it's a triumphant scream.

Such a voracious cry startles the poor baby and causes him to cry. "Oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Storm gets up and tries to comfort the child despite the agonizing pain that comes with every movement.

Storm reaches for the baby and a gush of blood runs down her arm. "Maybe I shouldn't touch you?" She chuckles before snatching one of the pillow cases and wrapping it around her hand.

"We should get going, so many deaths in one area might attract attention." Storms warns while booting her one knife and attempting to pull the other out of the rogue.

"Here let me help you." The mother kneels down with her baby in one hand and with the other, effortlessly pulls the knife free. If only moving that rogue was this easy!

"Werewolves." Storm shakes her head with a smile as she takes the knife.

"We don't have to rush. The war is over, we won." Storm stops wiping her knife off on her bloody pants and stares at the mother. "It's over?"

"Yes, it's been over for a little while now."

"Then I gotta get going. It was great meeting you but I have to find Wilder." She waves and starts to hobble down the hallway. The whole way down the hallway she stares at the ceiling, trying to distract herself from the bodies she's stepping on.