Page 4 of The Wolf Moon

I was ripped away, a cloth suddenly wrapped around my eyes to blind me from my surroundings. As I was taken from my village, all I could hear were cries of pain and despair, and among it all was my younger brother’s voice fading away but still demanding over and over again for my life.

“I promise,” I whispered to myself faintly.

Three

Chapter 2

With my sight taken from me and hands tied behind me there was no chance of finding calm or peace in my time of terror and ultimate doom. I breathed heavily, my wrists aching from trying to get out of my bindings. I blindly shifted my head side to side occasionally as though I could catch a glimpse of my surroundings. My only relief was the feel of my blade resting against the strap around my leg, hidden under my dress. My fear was that during this Wolf Moon hunt, I would be hunted with my hands tied and blinded.

When we arrived, or so I assumed, I was pushed across a tricky surface which aimed to catch my feet on rocks and roots. I fell two times before strong arms lifted me from the ground and slung me none-too-gently over their shoulder. The position wasn’t comfortable, but I could only manage small, fearful cries in response.

I considered ways to plead for my life, but knew already it was pointless. These were creatures of godlike magnitude. They were worshipped; feared, but considered deities. Being chosen as a sacrifice was something like an honor, though a painful and forced one. And all sacrifices never came back. Never.

Werewolves weren’t merciful creatures.

I yelped as I was dropped roughly onto the ground. I immediately tried to straighten myself, keeping my knife covered and reaching for the ground with my hands to try to discern where I was. The floor was stone, so I was inside somewhere. When I shuffled away, my back hit a wall solidly.

“She smells… wild,” A female voice stated without emotion.

“Apparently, she pissed off Alpha Roman,” A man responded simply. “They put up a fight this time, though. Had to drop a few humans before leaving.”

“At least she’s not a crier. Those are so annoying,” the woman stated, but I was still stuck on the previous statement. Drop a few humans? Did he mean someone died in the attack? It was something I should have expected, considering how lowly lycans thought of us, but the pain of knowing some of my family and friends were now dead because of me caused sudden and immense grief.

I tightened my thighs together and frowned deeply, but I didn’t allow the tears to fall from my eyes. When there was no more talking, I hesitated. I waited, listening for any sounds of lycans nearby. Not even the sound of shuffling feet came to me.

I immediately began scooting along the wall behind me, feeling the texture and the floor for any protruding objects. After touching along the corner of the wall, my hand pricked against something, causing me to wince at the sudden pain of a minor cut. I flexed my hands apart as much as I could and began scrapping it against the sharp object repeatedly.

I did this for the longest time. Every noise made me stop in fear of being caught. When the fabric finally tore away, I had to restrain myself from crying out with momentary joy. I immediately reached for the cloth blinding me and pulled it from my face.

My eyes took a moment to adjust, taking in the sight of a small and worn detainment cell. There were no windows and only a single, barred door. I had no idea of determining what time it was, but it had to be well into the day if not nearly the evening by now. And once the sun rested on the horizon, the Wolf Moon would shine and the hunt would commence.

I skated along the walls of my cell, touching every inch of it as though I could find some sort of crack and manage to escape through it. Only after I tried unlocking or breaking the door, and attempting to dig through the floor, did I finally crawl to the corner of the cell and resolve to the initial idea of fighting to the death.

I stayed perched in the corner, crouching in preparation for a quick attack. My hand had the fabric of my dress raised and was rested over the hilt of my knife determinedly. When it felt like days had passed, the sound of footsteps finally greeted me. I tightened my grip on the hilt, my breath coming short in panic.

The wolf appeared at the door with ease. It was the same lycan that had accompanied the King Alpha to my village. He assessed my position with serious eyes before finally opening my cell determinedly. The fact that he could see I was preparing for some sort of attack but didn’t seem concerned told me what little he thought of my abilities.

And apparently he was right.

I lunged and was immediately thrown against the wall. I was too dazed to even cry out, having felt the impact of the wall against my rather human-fragile skull. Instead, I turned into wet spaghetti against the lycan who held me pinned against the wall easily.

“You should have saved your strength for the hunt,” The lycan informed me, “Now you’ll have a headache on top of everything else.” He ran his hand under my dress where he had seen me resting my own before. I hadn’t even been able to withdraw my knife from its holster. The lycan paused when his touch found it hidden.

“Sneaky girl!” He exclaimed with amusement before laughing and releasing his grip on the weapon. “I won’t tell if you don’t. Maybe it’ll make things more interesting. Come on, then.”

I was roughly pulled from the wall and shoved from the cell. I struggled to keep up with the pace the lycan demanded of me, my head still throbbing and my vision only just beginning to come into full focus. We stepped outside and I was only able to glance at the horizon of buildings, a far more intricate and well-off village than my own, before I was turned the opposite direction and into the woods.

My heart raced painfully in my chest with each step I was forced to take. Being able to see didn’t help my fear at all. In fact, I began to see people… werewolves. They stood in human form, just a few at first. But the further we walked, the more there appeared to be. All of them were either my age or older. I wasn’t sure how I would have felt about children hunting me as well.

There were hundreds of them. At some point, I couldn’t see what the fun even was in hunting a single human on one full moon. Only one or a few could enjoy the kill; the rest would just be witnesses or just be in the same vicinity. What was the point besides senseless murder?

I was shoved through the pack and in front of the entire crowd was a single man who stood looking up at the sky watching the moon with a look of intense hatred across his features. I suspected wolves revered the moon; considering it something with a deep connection to their culture. It was strange to see such a look on a deity shapeshifter when looking to that bright orb.

King Alpha Roman Stone, as he called himself, turned his steel blue eyes from the sky and found me within his sights. I stared at him, my eyes wide with terror, but again finding something curious and amazing in seeing the silhouette of such a powerful creature standing in the light of the moon.

“Centuries ago, humans broke the peace with the wolf packs by slaughtering our innocents in the thousands. Tonight, we hunt yet another just as they hunted us. We spill the blood of another human, not for the honor our moon goddesses. We spill this blood in spite of them. We do it for us; for the lycanthropes in our pack and all packs alike.”

There were cries of agreement; loud and hungry for a taste of my blood. I trembled fearfully, looking around at the faces of these creatures as they prepared for their hunt. When strong, forceful hands gripped my upper arms, I gasped in terror. I turned to peer at the King Alpha, expecting to be ripped apart right then.

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