Just Lyca Lady

Chapter 3 : Drool

Frothy, warm drool dripped onto my neck as the beast lowered its head, nose brushing my ear as it took a deep whiff. Again, it released a low growl. Something about my scent this beast downright hated. Had I known smelling like a peasant would save my life, I would have gladly taken to not bathing.

As the creature widened its jaw, readying to dig ivory fangs into my flesh, there was another clang of metal. The cage rattled behind me, the beast being smashed against the frame. A yelp and a snarl sounded. Managing a glimpse over my shoulder, I saw Gray sinking his teeth into the beast's shoulder.

Its grip on me loosened, but the crowd still could not manage to tug me away. The creature's claws were tangled in my cloak. I reached for the golden clasp at my neck that kept the cape in place and tried to get it to release, while Gray continued tearing at the beast.

The fastening broke free as both lycan fell from the dome's wall to the arena floor once more, the beast taking my cloak with him. I was pulled into the crowd, men's hands still all over my body. Alive--I was alive.

There was no feeling I had experienced that could compare to that moment. My skin felt both frozen and flame engulfed while my ribs barely kept my thudding heart within my chest. There was a flood of relief, yet fear and panic still raced. A mixture of every emotion and sensation was trying to take a clump of me, and they were all succeeding.

Despite everything that had transpired, everyone flooded back to the rink, cheering and egging on the fight. Had they forgotten someone had almost been chewed up through the cage? This was why my species would one day fall to animals: instead of being smart and backing away from danger, we flocked to it. We always closed the little distance between life and death, wanting to stand right on the brink as we peered into the face of a reaper.

It was a rush, it was exciting-it was unbelievably foolish, and that was what made it appealing. I hated to admit I was no bigger, no smarter when it came to this conception. As a lady, I had near everything...except for excitement. So yes, I knew these folk were ignorant, but I could not blame them.

My well-being was an afterthought to even those who had helped get me loose. They had pushed and shoved their way to the dome just as the others, hindering my view. The snapping of teeth, tearing of flesh, array of animalistic sounds of both pain and aggression, and crowd reaction were all I had to go on. Even on my toes, I could see nothing.

Which lycan was receiving the bulk of the damage? Was it my gray lycan? Or was it Gray who was killing the beast?

Gears spun as I took into consideration everyone was so close. Turning, I began trying to get through the thick wall of bodies without being rude. That lasted only a few moments. Soon I found myself shoving my arms between people and roughly trying to create enough space to squeeze between. Whether it be elbows to the rib-cage or shoulders colliding against others', I was fully devoted to getting up the stairs.

Stumbling out the back of the thicket, I lifted my light blue dress, clambered up to the top of the steps, and whirled around. Eyes widening and lips parting, I watched what little fight was left.

The beast was pinned to the ground. Dirt had mixed with blood, creating a slimy, red tinted mud. Chunks of flesh hung limp from its body, yet the creature snapped up at Gray, who continued to bite and tear at muscle. With each piece of meat Gray ripped from the beast, burgundy spattered onto members of the onlookers pressed close to the cage. People's cheers had grown into a steady roar.

And we, humans who applauded such things, called lycan the animals? Unlike us, werewolves had a right to be brutal--to be deadly and thrive in the glory of the hunt. They bore the curse of having to house an animalistic nature. Humans, however, we were simply sick.