Second Chance For A Warrior

-Chapter Eleven-

It's been two days since the meeting with Alpha Trevor, and things have lapsed back into their normal routine. Almost normal anyway.

For the last two days I've been training with the warriors more, frankly because Seth had to go to the neighboring pack for business. So, I've been splitting my time between training and paperwork, much to Adrienne's dismay.

Avery, in response to missing me because of my lack of visits, came to see me at the packhouse. We went to the office and I showed her the large fish tank full of jellyfish, the translucent creatures both beautiful and deadly.

After it was time for her to go back, I got a mind link from Gamma Marcus. He asked if I wanted to join on a patrol run around the territory line, and I said yes. Which is currently where I am now, running in wolf form with the Warriors. Our shift is almost over, and a new one will be coming in shortly, so I duck behind a tree and pull on one of Seth's shirts and a pair of his boxers. I am not wearing jeans without underwear, period.

With the others wearing basketball shorts, we wait quietly for the trade off, listening intently for any signs of wolves. The sound of a branch snapping catches my attention, and I whip my head towards the sound, the others follow suit when they notice my stare.

Another snap, this time to the right of the first one. I lean forward slightly and sniff the air, and just as I'm about to brush it off, the faint scent of blood and rotting flesh hits my nose. I growl, hating the putrid smell.

"Rogues!"

I call out, and everyone tenses just before a large chorus of rabid growls cuts through the trees. Dozens of large, dark, hellish wolves leap out of no where. The red eyes an obvious sign.

There are two kinds of rogues: the unaffiliated, and the insane.

The unaffiliated look like normal pack wolves, but they just smell like a dog who hasn't had a bath in years.

The Insane are the equivalent of hellish beasts, their forms a twisted shadow of what they used to be. The stench of decaying flesh and rotten blood follows them around like a shadow, with their eyes glowing as red as the sustenance they crave. Blood. Werewolf blood. The insane are cannibalistic creatures with no sympathy or remorse...and the reason why werewolves are painted in an evil light. Because they'll eat anything with a pulse...including humans.

The others along with Gamma Marcus shift back into their wolves, clothing shredding left and right as they run towards the rouges without hesitation. I throw off my own clothes before shifting as well, charging into the fray without a second thought, following my instincts.

I mind link the entire pack to be on guard before I lock onto the neck of the first rogue I come close to, sinking my teeth into its putrid flesh as we tussle and hit the ground rolling. I snap through it's throat and whip my head back and forth until it neck snaps, pushing its limp body to the ground as I get up to fight another.

I cut through three more, snapping their necks and dropping them to the ground. Their blood a foul taste on my tongue and staining my muzzle, I'll have to wash my mouth out after this is over, swallowing too much rogue blood can turn you psycho as well. Like a toxic high.

A sharp cry of pain pull me back into focus, and I turn to see one of the youngest warriors in trouble, a rogue on his side with its jaws clamped on his shoulder. I snarl and barrel into the disgusting creature, sending us rolling and snapping at each other in an attempt to find a kill spot. He blindly latches on to my front leg, his red eyes glowing brighter as he bites down and the bone cracks, making me cry out in pain.

I quickly grab its neck in my jaws, and whip it's head as hard as I can to the right. My anger putting in extra force, making it snap in half with one swing. After he drops, I carefully pull myself up off the ground, my right leg throbbing painfully. I don't think it's broken, but it's definitely fractured...and hurts like hell.