Born of Blood

Chapter 14

They traveled quickly through the storm.

The snow bore down against the Sierra Nevada Mountains with a howling rage. Sabina held his head and shoulders braced against the wind, the hail slamming into his skin, peppering his tan flesh with  red welts. The poor girl in his arms could only be covered so much, her broken arm flopping about of his grasp- he could see the fracture wobble as they sped their way through the blizzard. Her arm was covered in the same red welts Sabinas flesh reflected, her long, absolutely grotesque, hair trailing over his arms became sopping with water as the snow settled into her strands and began to melt. Dirt and grime fell from the tips, dried blood no longer dry as the thick scent trailed behind him while he forged ahead. His feet sunk deep into the soft ground, his ankles surrounded by the powdery snow that caused his calves to cramp. Sabina had carried many people, from battle and not, he knew they grew heavier the longer they stayed in your arms. This woman, this sack of bones he held so close to his chest, she had not increased in weight one ounce. Her skin grew colder by the second, her arms and legs first, then creeping to her shoulders and thighs. Her chest began to shudder and he clutched her tighter to him, hoping his heat would keep her safe until they reached the plane.

Her wolf was providing her no warmth, why was her wolf not supporting her?

Her body was too much composed of bones to provide her any insulation in the extreme temperatures. She kept moaning every few moments, whimpers leaving her mouth when Sabina would grip her especially close, as the wind would push against their ascent of the mountain. Her unconscious body was deeply uncomfortable, Sabina had to fight to not look at her head again, he had to stop from staring at the disgusting, gaping wound, where the black tissue of her rotting brain peek from behind her hair that had matted to the trauma. His stomach rolled, Sabina was used to war injuries, to lacerations and amputations. He was not used to signs of torture, he was not used to the brutal ways some packs dealt with Rouges. In Sendöw, they were killed quickly, humanly, if they couldn't be tamed.

Moving through the miles of Giant Sequoia, the distance grew substantially between them and Malkún. They could no longer sense the pack border, Augustus and his sons sickly sweet scents fading to the harsh winter air that burned Sabinas nostrils.

Her face, her face was bashed in.

He couldn't get the look of her sunken skull out of his mind. She would not survive, Sabinas heart sank as his rib cage shuddered with the biting wind, she would not live after the next few hours. Not without some sort of brain injury, he could already smell the rotting flesh of her body screaming her truth: death. No amount of werewolf genetics was going to help with something so severe, so traumatic. They broke through the densest of the trees, Orion several feet in front of him scenting for any dangers that could have been posed to his mate. Sabina felt fear settle into his stomach, his eyes lids half-closed to shield themselves from the snow, though very trained on his leaders Beast.

Once Orion sees her face.

It was going to be over.

All of it.

He had waited centuries for his mate, for his Luna to be by his side. Sabina had been the seventh generation of Lead Warriors Orion had worked with, and each one passed on the same insight. Should the Alpha find his Luna, and she were to be harmed, there was no use in attempting to intervene. He had, now, finally found her, and as Sabina heard her wheezing breaths he knew she was going to pass. These were deaths lips upon her own, sucking the life from the bottom of her lungs. It was sick, it was sick and Sabina couldn't help but feel disgusted at the Goddess for her cruel hand of fate, and he couldn't help but feel pity for Malkún and all that lived within her. They would be slaughtered soon, Orion's Beast wouldn't stop until all their land was soaked in their blood. Nature would grow through their crimes and the Earth would absorb their hate into her soil, the Sierra Nevada Mountains would be reborn from their putrid blood, and only then would Orion feel his revenge was satisfied. When there was no trace they ever existed.