Book 1 in the Deviant Creatures Series
In the slums of New York City an underground prison sat. The City that Never Sleeps wasn't all it seemed, ruled by the society of the supernatural, the gang wars were pack wars, the drug dealers were car...
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Gliding through Keystone State Park like they belonged, Olympe and Tiberius walked on in silence. It had been days since they had spoken last, Olympe uninterested in speaking to a single soul, while Tiberius was wary of going near her in fear of invoking her wrath once more. Although she was pissed at the male, he held out hope that she would not cross the line that separated his loyalties and kill his mate in her spur of vengeance. But if the dominant wolf did, he'd have no choice but fight against her in the playing field.
Olympe was in a world of her own, brooding silently among herself. Millions of things ran through her head in the moment. Like an old film slowly flickering to the next slide, blood and gore splattered itself against her vision, clinging to her inner eye. Archaic technics of torture. Devious urges to see primordial blood to be spilled across beautiful flooring, causing a magnificent coloration.
She twitched.
Forcing herself to relax, she stopped. Placing her hands on her hips, she breathed in the air, flaring her nostrils. Although the area seemed familiar, it was not much to go on, since almost all forests looked the same. Digging a steel-toed boot into the soft ground, she absently minded swatted at flies.
Doing a full 360 degrees, she found not a single one of her markers. Huffing, slightly frustrated, she trekked on, with the male wolf trudging warily behind her. Olympe had no time to waste. It was only a week after the unfortunate death of mate, meaning they had not yet burned his body for the ceremonial pyre. Many Wolves frowned upon the practice, the only the truly high ranked wolves use it. Most believe that the body and soul would be at rest in their true home, and a good proportion of the one's who would bury their loved ones in a forest would plant a tree on top of the grave that best suited the decease's personality.
Sighing out briefly through her nose, she began to jog through the forest at a normal speed, allowing her vision to become enhanced, searching the lands for her familiar mark while running.
Pumping her legs faster, she broke out into a sprint. Gracefully bounding over fallen, rotting trees. Ducking under thick branches and dodging trees. Olympe skidded to a halt. Her breathing ragged, the sun was beginning to set, keying her in on how long it had been since she started running. Tilting her head back, she squinted through the soft sunlight that managed to slip through the heavy canopies above her, twinkling down on her face, creating a soft glow. Placing her hands on her hips, she blew out strand of hair out of her face.
The female stayed in that position until she heard the heavy footfalls of the careless male approach her.
"A-alpha?" He stuttered hesitantly. Though he was much taller than the femme wolf's five foot two inches, her personality made her twice her size. Intimidation caused him to keep several meters between them.
