Redeeming The Alien Werewolf

02.

Draug

Fuck, I wanted to be anywhere but here.

I dug my claws into the sandy arena floor as warm blood dripped from my fangs.The deafening roar of the crowd washed over me.

Their bloodlust, their hunger for violence and death– it sickened me. But I focused on my opponent, on making it to the next fight. I clamped my jaws around his neck, ripping out his throat with a spray of orange blood.

That was all I could do– fight, survive, and hope that one day, I'd find a way to make amends for the lives I'd taken.

The lifeless body of my latest opponent, a ferocious Orzad male, lay sprawled at my feet, his eyes wide in shock even in death.

As the roaring crowd chanted my gladiator name, "The Wolf," my gut twisted. My shoulder ached, but I ignored the pain.

Another life taken, another soul forever haunted by the violence I inflicted. Each scar etched into my flesh served as a haunting reminder of every kill. Redemption seemed like a distant dream, one that I was undeserving of.

My heart raced with residual adrenaline and guilt gnawed at my conscience. The crowd's roars echoed in my ears, each cheer a painful reminder of the lives I'd taken in this godforsaken arena.

"Another victory for The Wolf!" the announcer's voice boomed throughout the arena, echoing against the cold steel walls.

I flattened my ears against my head, the words only serving as a reminder of the destruction I left in my wake. I forced myself to hold my head up. It was kill or be killed here.

"Congratulations, Wolf!" a slimy voice called out from a nearby balcony. Anwir Zetari, a slimy alien drug lord with greenish-gray skin and multiple malicious eyes, sneered down at me. "Your victory has once again brought me quite the profit."

I bared my bloody teeth at him.

"Easy there, beast." Anwir let out a cruel laugh. "I'm just here to celebrate my winnings." He turned to Dookur, the high-ranking Intergalactic Alliance official standing beside him, who grinned a cold smile. "Looks like betting on The Wolf is always a safe bet."

"Indeed," Dookur said, his beady eyes gleaming. "Our fortunes grow with each victory The Wolf earns in the arena."

Fortunes built on blood. I snarled, feeling the sting of their words. They used me as a pawn to fuel their greed and lust for power, and I couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be an end to this cycle of violence. I just wanted to get back to my team.

I growled but couldn't say anything in my wolf form. My guilt deepened, knowing that not only had I ended another life, but I'd also fattened the pockets of these despicable creatures.

I turned my gaze inward, struggling to regain control over the wolf. But something was different this time. Instead of the familiar calm that descended after a fight, a feverish heat coursed through my veins.

My muscles rippled beneath my skin as I tried to shift back from my massive wolf form. The transformation always came with a jolt of pain, but the familiar burn never came. I froze. Why couldn't I shift?

Pain flared through my body, reminding me of the wounds I'd sustained in the arena. I struggled to catch my breath as an overpowering need coursed through me.

My body began emitting pheromones, signalling my need for release.

Fuck. I was in heat.

It must've been a year since I'd been captured and I wasn't on suppressants.