Unchained

Chapter Four

      Unedited.

The voice sent violent shivers down her spine, though she'd never admit it to anyone, not even herself, Lym liked that voice. It gave her a sense of comfort that she had never felt before, honestly it scared her, she was a young woman who had seen all the horrors of the world, never luxury.

"I asked you a question, little one." Olympe cocked her head to the side, not turning around, observing the darkness that lay before her. So close yet so far. She'd have to fight to get to it and she'd be damned if that opportunity was taken away from her.

     "Away." She breathed and faster than Lym and the man behind her could realize, she was already out of the door and freshly shifted.

     Ah, finally.

     After three long years, Olympe was able to run on all fours. It was refreshing, like a breath of fresh air. She was free. Finally. She agreed with her wolf, finally. The forest before her called to her like a moth to a flame, faster than lightening, Olympe bounded through the forest.

     Her enhanced hearing allowed her to hear the steady thump of gaining wolves or wolf. Jumping over logs and twisting and turning through tight spaces, hadn't tired her one bit, she felt like she could run for a whole lifetime and not be satisfied. Both Olympe and her wolf decided then and there, they'd never be caught again, even if it meant running from their mate. No one would chain them again.

     The angry snarls of a wolf behind her had Olympe tossing a glance over her dark gray shoulder, it could possibly be her mate. With a frustrated chuff, Olympe propelled her legs to go faster as the sound of running water got closer, but with werewolf hearing, it could be miles away.

     What seemed like a mere minutes, but was a few hours, passed and she didn't hear anyone following her, Olympe  slowed down to a trot. She didn't realized it, but she was winded and was in dire need of a good long drink. So she set off to find that water.

     The loose dirt beneath her large paws was cool, the air smelt of bitter coldness and a woodsy musk. With the sun approaching fast, she was able to see something she hadn't been able to in years, the forest. The trees, fifty feet or so each in height, were speckled with patches of thick moss, the ferns around its base blew slightly from the gentle breeze. Small birds chirped their morning melodies, squirrels barking at the slightest sway, fall leaves slowly floated down to meet the ground in a beautiful array. It was the only type of chaos that Lym allowed her self to watch, and not throw herself into.

     Shaking her fur, along with herself out of the self induced trance, Lym headed off towards the nearby stream. Call it a natural instinct, but when she was one with her wolf, Lym was always more able to find streams and foods and such.

     A few minutes passed, a light fog sat in around Olympe, twisting and spiraling itself around her dark legs, it stood stark against those gray legs of herself, a color she prided herself with. Blowing a long sigh through her nose, Olympe lowered her head towards the ground, sniffing out the water, feeling the steady thrum of the water currents, she knew she was close the not-so-small-as-she-thought-stream.

     As soon as she broke through the rather dense underbrush, she allowed herself to wear a wolfy grin, her parched throat rejoiced at the sight of clear, fresh water, the best she knows she'll ever have, her favorite drink will always be from places like this. Raging rivers that fell off from waterfalls, which before that come from many earthy springs, pure, cold water. Lowering her muzzle above one of the more calmer regions of the river, Lym finally took a nice long drink.

     After she had done had her fill, a buzzing warmth took over her body. A sense of contempt that she hadn't had a in a long time. Walking down the side of the river shores, carefully avoiding the foaminess of it, Olympe headed off to find shelter, not in dire need of a meal.

     Curling up under a fir tree, nestling herself into its needles, she slowing dozed off into a dreamless state, not knowing she had cross the American/Canadian border, and in one of the more dangerous Alpha's territories.

    Snarling, growling, roars of anger. They were all apart of the diversity of Gael's "refuge". The wolves were cruel, burying their long canines into the younger pups flesh when they committed a simple wrongdoing, always demanding some thing or another, using the female wolves like trash, but never Olympe. No, not Olympe, she was Gael's favored pet, they knew if they liked their heads on their shoulders than to never touch her.

     During her years with Gael and his crew, she learned to be silent and observant. She knew words were powerful but fear was even stronger. The silence that always seemed to surround Lym had many cowering, she wasn't the best assassin for no reason. Years of perfecting and honing her skills sent Olympe high on the totem pole, she was their Warrior Alpha Female , their Beta, she was Gael's. But what they didn't know was that a broken soul laid beneath that cold, hard exterior.

     In all truth, Olympe was a strong Wolf, she never wore her emotions on her sleeve, she killed first and then asked questions later. And of course her looks came into her favor greatly, not that she was conceited or vain enough to pay attention to it. In her eyes she was just vessel carrying a blood-caked, war ridden soul, where people saw natural beauty and death when they looked into her eyes, she saw a window to a past self of herself that lived on foggy memories and faded faces.

      "Tryker , Alpha has requested you in his main office." Those words always tore tiny holes into her heart, another death by her hand, another mar on her slowly blackening soul. The walk to Gael's office was always like Russian Roulette, for all Olympe knew, her next  victim could be someone she once knew. But delivering the news that the mission was completed and walking back was the true walk of shame, knowing that if she was to go through with her plans, innocents will have to die.

    Knocking gently on the rare, dark African wood, Olympe walked in. As she walked in everything in her dropped once she saw Gael's wolfish grin. Paling, she looked like a ghost.

     "Come here, Lymie." Gael beckoned her with two fingers, ignoring the small child in front of him. Though, Olympe took a nice long look at him. She knew that child was going to be a heart breaker when he grew up, loose brown curls against a naturally tan skin tone, large green eyes were framed by long thick lashes, his high cheekbones gave away to his Native American heritage, full pink lips paired with a face splattered with dark freckles. This child was innocence in human form.

     Olympe cocked her head to the side in a questioning manner once she stopped by Gael's side, his tawny hair gleamed like wildfire in the candle lit lighting.

     "Look what Farryn has found on our borders, a perfect child, a perfect lure, maybe even more so than you." Cold amber eyes gleamed with lust, her newly teenage body tried to recoil with disgust but years of masking emotions allowed her to remain neutral. "You need to convince me that you are still my more worthy pet." What was there to do, in truth? She was growing up, and soon she'd only be used for her body. 

     Olympe forced a purr up from her chest, whirling around faster than Gael could register and with slender, clawed hand, ripped out the child's throat.