The Alpha's War/Soul Mate - Book 2

Part 52

"What is it? Why have you stopped?" or at least that is what Jena is imagining the warhog behind her is saying through his grunts and snores. Maybe something about where the rest of his friends are, as well.

She turns around slowly, shifting into her human form as she does.

"How about you use words like the rest of us civilized weres, Mr. Raised? Don't look at me with those eyes. I know you can talk," Jena states confidently, completely oblivious to her own naked gloriousness.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"You entered the wrong forest, hog man. That was a mistake. You probably won't get out. Are you ready to forfeit your life?"

"You have no chance, wolf girl. We..."

"Outnumber me almost 90 to one? Aren't you missing your betters?" Jena jabs at the Raised. Are your fellow Raised trying to hold you last to fight, delaying your entry to the Promised Lands? Your group is not even full, couldn't find enough people to follow your lead, Raised? Are you a bad leader?"

"You die today!" He retorts full of anger.

WOOSH!

"Seriously, what can 9 of you do to little ol' me?"

"What?"

Jena nods behind him.

"Not falling for that!"

But a grunt has him look behind, only to find two-thirds of his group collapsed in a disorderly line.

"We will still kill you!"

"I wonder if you are really assuming I am alone."

A sudden move in the bushes nearby and a gray wolf jumps through from the side, grabbing onto the exposed warhog neck he was aiming for and allowing his inertia to carry him over to the other side of the group, before disappearing into the opposing underbrush with a trail of blood behind him.

What the hell was that? Jena wonders, not recognizing this move as part of the plan.

After 10 more seconds of spraying everything around him red, the warhog with a missing part of his neck and carotid artery collapses first to his knees and then to the side, his loss of bodily fluid preventing his body from fulfilling basic tasks like standing, breathing or living.

What can I say? That was efficient. Though, I'm pretty sure Alastair didn't come up with that on his own. Hmm!

"So if my friend there does that 7 more times, it would make this fight fair, you think?"

"What kind of sorcery is this, you witch?!" The warhog demands, adding some grunts to his question, which makes the remaining 7 warhogs huddle up and pair back to back, with one of them moving to watch the Raised's own back, all of them now warily watching the forest.

"You wound me, Raised! Witchcraft is for insensitive bitches that like to trick people into unfavorable deals without properly informing them of the terms. This is simply the forest plus me and my friends hating your guts."

WOOSH!

What the hell was that? I thought they were low on sleeping darts.

The other 3 pairs of warhogs suddenly start squealing and grunting loudly, flailing their arms and tusks around, as if trying to hit at invisible enemies.

An interesting development. Looks like they can't see.

"Enough of your tricks! Stand and fight me like a man!"