The Heat #WATTYS2019

Chapter 23

     Lycaon and Morrigan were already on the other side, the portal the latter had created closed, when they noticed the shape of the somewhat massive Northern Wolf sprawled on the hard stone ground of the cave.

    Immediately Lycaon pushed Morrigan behind him, adopting a protective stance. Not about to get walked all over, the female barged from behind him, pinching his skin  in the process.

    He yelped and his hand went to the skin on his shoulder, where she'd hurt him.

"Shit Morrigan. That fucking hurt," he let out in a harsh whisper.

"Oh, you'll get over it you big baby. It was just a little pinch," she replied, waving him off like she would a pesky fly.

    She stalked towards the unconscious shape of the Wolf and observed. A thick coat of whitish fur covered him, though it was streaked with thin and large scars. The dense hair made a good job of hiding most of them, but dark skin was visible in the rest. Her keen ears pricked forward as she listened attentively for a heartbeat.

"What are you even doing, Morrigan? It's obvious he's alive and well," Lycaon grunted.

     He approached her from behind, intent on proving he was right but stopped abruptly in his tracks.

"Shit, Morrigan. Can you feel it too?" he breathed out, his voice rough.

    A powerful aura surrounded the wolf, pulsating with energy. It was so strong the male could almost see it. However, that was not all. His soul recognized the Wolf's, like he would a long lost friend. Memories of another time flashed through his mind. Memories he'd pushed at the back of his head for two thousand years surfaced again. Memories he wished he'd forgotten, because the nostalgia was too much. The two main people in these memories were dead.

"Yes, Lycaon. Yes, I do. Gods I wish he'd remember everything. I wish Amarok would remember everything, but they can't. Their wilds can only recognize each other, because of what they were. They might have a faint memory of who we are, but not enough for them to want to be part of it. Gods this sucks," she croaked out.

"We have to do something to save him."

"Yeah, we do."

     None of them moved.

     They were both buried too deep under layers of memories neither of them wanted to live again. Not because they were bad memories—most of them included laughter and wine—but rather because two of the people in those memories were dead, and the carriers of their wilds didn't remember them.

     Finally, Morrigan kneeled next to him, and threaded her fingers through his thick fur. The regular bumps of his ribs made her stop, and she turned to Lycaon.

"He's starving. Go hunt."

     He gave her a friendly glare at the command and then turned around. In a flurry of fur and snow, he leapt out of the cave, his black fur prominent on the white background.

•••

     The female had not stopped staring at him since he'd sat down with his scalding hot black coffee at the little bar-like counter top. Every few seconds, he'd take a sip of it, enjoying the awakening that came with it. The females observed each of his action with a fiery predatory glare that would have chilled him to the bone if he'd been anyone else. In this case, it just told him to be aware of her and not underestimate her. He knew she could do some irreversible damage. He had enough scars as it was.

     Finally, the female caved in, and, in a strong, hate-filled voice, she spoke.

"Explain. Now," she hissed, and he shivered.

"Well," he interrupted himself and looked at her questioningly, "What's your name already?"

"Etna. My name is Etna," she answered disdainfully as she picked his now empty cup of what previously was coffee and set it in the sink.

"Well, Etna. Do you know about Luna's Fall?"

She snorted, "Of course I do. Everyone does."

"Good. And you know that Amarok and Fenrir gave their lives to seal her in the Tomb of the Moon, right?"

"Yes," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't know that before hand, Amarok had sent us to the Human Dimension and blocked us there, determined to protect us. Fenrir was the only one that managed to escape, and that was why he died. He was foolish and careless, but she was his soulmate."

     He sighed.

"Okay. How did you come back then?"

•••

     The twins descended the stairs at a leisurely pace the next morning, yet it did nothing to prevent their stalking grace to fire through like a bullet from a gun. They were dangerous, and anyone could see this. Finally, they plopped on the stained barstools of the falling-apart dining room. This inn had definitely not been their best choice.

"Hello, handsomes," the bar lady purred again, like a satisfied cat.

"Good morning to you," Geri spoke, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

"You got any breakfast, ma'am?" Freki asked, rubbing his flat and toned stomach.

     Wolves hardly accumulated any fat, and a killing machine like himself was even better. Freki was always hungry.

     The female leaned on the counter, exposing her cleavage to him, and he took no qualms in enjoying the view. He hated that, but he was a hot-blooded male, and he needed to get laid. The female was hot.

"We got—"

     She was interrupted by the door slamming open and a loud booming voice that quieted the room.

"I'm looking for a set of twins! Black-haired, tall, sneaky little mutts, they are!"

A/N) There, late again, but still on the right day!
Hope you liked it! It might be short, but I'm passing a big set of exams since yesterday and until next Wednesday, so update next week will be short too!
Love y'all!
- Lexie

Who's your celebrity crush(es)?

Joel Pimentel, Shawn Mendes, Antonie Lokhorst are the main ones😂😂