by Hana Blue
Call it morbid curiosity, but I wanted to see it. I wanted to see what a demon of the forest truly looked like. I wanted to see what she looked like. An unhealthy desire to see what all of her looked like at least one time filled me. All I wanted was one chance to shamelessly enjoy looking at my mate before she fell to the demise that her and all her kind deserved.
I closed in on her as her long legs carried her across the ground with skill, hoping I could force her hand, to leave her with no option but to change. She knew this forest better than anyone; it was clear by how she navigated the ground almost like her feet weren’t even touching it, completely unaffected by my gaining on her. Bobbing and weaving through the trees effortlessly, overlong hair flowing behind her.
It was almost like something out of a fairytale.
Goddamnit, if I didn’t want her. Watching her run was magnificent, the way her body moved, the way it looked. I’ll be damned if part of me wouldn’t have let her lead me through the gates of hell just for one chance to touch her, but deep inside I knew better. Suppressing the thought, I closed the rest of the gap between us, reaching my neck out to catch her ankle in my jaws. However, I could not…
Within a blink of an eye, her feet left the ground as a woman, only to crash back down as a flurry of black fur. Shredded clothes flying around her like leaves in the wind. She changed too smoothly and quickly, unlike anything I had seen outside of my mother. It wasn’t painful looking like all the other wolves I’ve known. She didn’t have to stop; she didn’t struggle. It made no sound. One minute she was a woman, the next she was a wolf.
Her speed increased easily once on all four legs, like she was floating through the air, not running. She was an enormous wolf, almost my size. Which was surprising for the slender woman that she was only moments before? Her body carried scars and marks where fur no longer grew. It was a haunting sight, a tantalizing one. Every mark stressing the dark soulless beauty of her.
She truly looked like a demon.
She led us deep within the woods, and I slowly recognized exactly where she was heading. I looked around, flashbacks from when I was a child rushing through my mind. I had run this path before when I was an adolescent boy. The very first time I ever entered the dark hills. She knew where she was going; she knew what she was doing. She was leading me directly into a trap.
“Cut her off before she hits the ravine!” I linked to the entire pack.
Hoping that one of us was far enough ahead to do so. She barreled closer and closer to the opening in the trees, making her way to the border. Slowing her pace a little, I saw one of my pack rounding the trees off to the side of us, before lunging himself in front of her.
She skidded along the ground, avoiding him, trying to make it around.
Using the opportunity while she within reach I threw myself into the air at her, crashing my paw into the side of her face, the contact knocking her through the air into a nearby tree. Her back connected with the trunk, such a dominant force, the tree cracked, sounding like a thunderclap. Her body slumped at the base of the tree as she hit the ground.
Quickly we closed in on her, and she struggled to her feet. Blood oozing from the wound on the side of her face. Once on her feet, she looked to me. Her red eyes glowed again, only far more noticeable than before. She was furious. I felt the anger flood from her. She bared her teeth at me, snarling in a low, cynical tone.
I instantly felt my body lose full control of itself. I couldn’t will myself to move. Whatever she was doing was paralyzing me. Keeping her eyes on me, she rose onto her hind legs, standing like a human but remaining in wolf form, towering over all of us. Slowly her form turned into the most horrific beast I had ever seen in my life.
“Beasts, with wretched forms.” My mother’s words echoed in my mind.
Stuck in place, without choice, I watched the ghastly scene around me. Everything moved in slow motion, and I was right there in the middle of it, but it felt like I wasn’t really there.
My eyes could not unlock from hers. Helplessly I watched as my pack attacked her, only to be swatted viciously to the ground like they were nothing more than flies in her face. The sound of whines and cries, agonizing crunching and the snapping of bones echoed around us. Her malicious gaze ever piercing through me. Her scarred face looking pleased with the carnage she was leaving around her, her eyes almost gloating.
It was the most frightening and erotic sight I had ever seen. I felt sick to my stomach as I stood stuck in her aura, my lust for the marred disfigured wolf in front of me overpowering my thoughts. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t natural. To desperately crave something like this. To watch such gore and cruelty and want nothing more than to be the one she was hurting. To want to hurt her myself. To feel her skin tear under my claws, to taste her blood. I felt like I was going mad.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the human form of one of my men coming behind her. I let out a silent prayer that he could catch her off guard, even just enough to make her release me from whatever spell she was holding me to the ground with. Hoping if I could move, I’d get to her. Unsure of what I would do once I did. But every muscle in my body ached to touch her.
That prayer landed on deaf ears as I watched her reach behind, never even looking to see where he was. Quickly capturing him in her grasp, throwing him right between her and me. With a swift moment, she caught his skull between her jaws, teeth piercing down into his scalp.
She took a few steps closer to me, slowly, menacingly, till she stood towering above me. A pleading look on my friend’s face, his feet dangling near my own. She raised her arm like a sword and slashed it down with such a ferocious swing. Claws severed his head from his body, which collapsed lifelessly in front of me. She shook her head to the side, throwing the other half of my friend into the forest, before dropping face to face with me. Her fur soaked in blood, her eyes no longer glowing. I felt my control come back, but I couldn’t force myself to kill her. I should have been frightened, but I wasn’t.
Expectantly, she looked at me. Like she was waiting for me to take my shot at her. Waiting for me to fulfill my command to kill her.
Face to face with this beast, I realized something. The beast that lived inside of me, the one I choked back all my life, was what I was looking at. She wore on the outside exactly what I wore on the inside. She was the physical form of the rage and violence that dwelled in my heart. The rage and violence that kept me from gaining control as a child.
She looked down away from me; her face becoming more dog-like, not a beast like. Her size became smaller, so when she finally looked back to me, her face lined up right with my chest. Her black fur so dark and thick compared to the light grey of my own.
Stunned, I stared at her, unsure what to do. Was she surrendering? Was she conceding? She lowered her head to the ground, avoiding my gaze, making herself smaller. I didn’t know what to make of what was happening, even with full physical control regained I still couldn’t bring myself to move. The sudden show of submission forcing my guard down.
I couldn’t attack her now, not like this.
Confused, I nuzzled at her, forcing her to return my gaze, desperate to understand the dramatic turn from murderous and out of control, to silent and submissive. Then I heard it.
“Kill me. Please.” Her voice pierced my consciousness. “If you think you can. Kill me.” she cooed out. It wasn’t challenging or taunting. It was somber and cold.
I remained still, taken aback by her voice. How was she able to do that? I wondered. Only mates who completed the bond could link to each other. But even so, her voice penetrated my mind.
Again she lowered her gaze and turned away. “Have it your way. You will live to regret it.”
She bounded off weightlessly like she sustained no injuries. I looked around me, my pack looking back with wonder, many of them badly mangled. Blood covered the surrounding ground, pooling at the now headless body of my friend.
“What the fuck was that Dominic!” Ethan
yelled, regaining human form again. He grasped at his arm, torn open, gritting his teeth in pain. “You had her right there! You could have fucking killed her!” He screamed at me again. “The first Blood Born anyone has seen in over a decade and you let it run away! YOU FUCKING LET IT RUN AWAY! Goddamnit Dominic, look at Ray! LOOK AT WHAT THAT FUCKING MONSTER DID!”
His words bounced off my ears, but I couldn’t hear him. I changed back, slowly standing on my own two legs, my body aching. The horrific sight around me was nothing but a blur, and I felt mostly numb. But again, my throat burned. She was far enough away now, where the longing had returned.
Wordlessly, I just walked away. Leaving everyone behind me. I could hear Ethan shouting in the background, I could feel the anger that came off of all of them. The betrayal they all felt now because of me, mourning for those lost because of her. A heartsick feeling flooded my body. She controlled me, manipulated me. With every urge, I had every notion to attack her. She was a step ahead. She was in my head, controlling my mind. She showed herself to be absolutely everything the stories described. The tales that instilled fear in children. Manipulative, cruel, soulless, disfigured and marred.
Then in an instant showed herself pained and regretful.
I watched her act like the demon I always thought her kind was always to be. So why did I feel pain walking away? Not just the physical pain from my soul being pulled to hers. Why couldn’t I kill her when I had the chance? When posed the opportunity, I just stood there like a fool.
But I realized. She didn’t either.
As easy as I could have ripped her throat out, taking her up on her request to kill her, she could have done the same. She showed herself strong enough to do so. At any moment, she could have killed me without a fight. She held me, unable to fight back. It would have been easy. Even after I wounded her, sent my pack after her with orders to kill her. Hell, I even held one of her own kind in my hands taking their life, and she still never posed herself as a threat to me. Amongst the wreckage she caused, the pain she inflicted, she didn’t harm me. No. She bowed her head before me.
I was willing to see her die, and maybe I still was. I was willing to end the life of the soul that also lives in me. So who was more of the monster? Was it really her? Or was it me?
Five
What Are You?
Aine~
“No! No, no, no, no, no! Stay the hell away from me Aine!” Caireen squealed as she fled into the house.
I leaned desperately against the bumper of my car, my legs struggling to hold me up. “Reena Wait!” I called to her, forcing myself to stand again, but she slammed the door.
I could hear her frantic crying from outside, filling my heart with sadness. God, how I wish she hadn’t of seen that. Any of it. I spent her entire life hiding the truth, the horrific truth of what we really were. What good did that do me now?
I pushed myself away from the car, my legs wobbling like a child’s who was learning to walk, forcing myself into the house. Siphoning every bit of energy I had into each step. “Reena, please, just talk to me,” I called out to her, bracing myself on the door frame.
Nothing.
It met me with nothing but the sound of sobbing coming from her room. Because of me. My only family, the only one who has ever been there, now crying from fear and disgust, because of me. It was agonizing to hear, crushing my soul. She was afraid of me, ashamed of me, and there was nothing I could do to change it, to take it back.
I sighed, my heart breaking for her. This wasn’t how I wanted her to find out. Caireen was nearly 6 six months old when our parent’s died, leaving me as a child to raise her alone. Maybe out of fear myself, or maybe out of pure hatred of the darkness that loomed under our skin, that coursed through our veins like poison. I thought it would be best for her if she never learned the truth of what we were. I never once thought I would expose her to it. I suppose that was a foolish thought.
I should have known that one day she would have to see the ungodly sight of what we really were. The raw evil that we could really be. How could I have possibly thought the day would never come? That one day she wouldn’t become it herself, that she wouldn’t ever see my true colors. How could I have been so damn naïve that I really thought it wouldn’t?
Maybe if I had shown her, told her something, she wouldn’t be afraid of me. I never wanted her to fear me, I would never hurt her. Now my only option was to wait, to wait and see if she could overcome it and find the courage to face me. Unfortunately, I don’t see that time coming soon.
I couldn’t imagine the confusion, the mental anguish she must be in. Realizing that everything she ever knew about herself, or me, was a lie. A cover-up, some nicely sugar-coated load of bullshit to hide the reality. The reality as simple as can be. We were nothing but disgusting, violent, bloodthirsty creatures. All hidden behind beautiful faces, with perfect brief smiles, waiting behind bated breath to release like hellhounds from the depths below.
I shook the thought from my head, defeated. Crying the doorway would change nothing. What I needed to do was lick my wounds. I stood up straight again, forcing myself to block out the excruciating pain that coursed through my spine. Using the walls as support, I drug myself to my bedroom, throwing myself onto the bed stomach first. Letting my body sink into the mattress slowly. Never bothering to dress myself. I couldn’t be bothered with it, all I wanted was some relief and a chance to recover.
It wasn’t a question if I would recover though, but more or less when. My entire body ached, a crushing feeling on my spine. No doubt if I was just a human, my spine would have severed hitting that tree. By all rights, I should be dead, but this damn curse I carry prevents me from dying that easily.
“Bastard,” I muttered to myself, burring my face into my pillow.
“How fucking dare he.” I thought.
I never laid a hand on him, I didn’t attack him, hurt him, or even pose a threat to him! I kept him out of danger all the while. Easily he could have been caught up in the massacre around me if I hadn’t forced him still. I kept him unharmed and safe. I had no desire to hurt him. However, he did. He was far too eager to kill me.
Somewhere deep down I knew, he probably still carries that eagerness. Even with the show of defeat to him. Even with acknowledging him for what he was and showing him the respect and the honor he deserved. I knew that he still found me to be a threat, and he would take any chance to kill me. Even though he didn’t take it when offered, I knew he would eventually.
Tears welled in my eyes as my mind fumbled around the sad realization of the situation I found myself in. I pulled the comforter up to my face, squeezing my eyes shut, praying this was all a dream, but the pulsing pain in my body told me otherwise. This was no dream, a nightmare maybe, but it for sure was not a dream. It was a sick reality.
They mated me to a monster, one that wanted me dead on site. Without even a word to me, the one who carried half of my soul within himself, he had already signed my death orders the minute he saw me.
It left me to wonder. Had I been any other wolf then what he referred to as blood born, how would he have reacted to me? Would he have been overjoyed? Would he have claimed me for his own? Or would he have still wanted my head on a platter? But I’m not, I am exactly what he called me, and naturally, I am his enemy.
He was afraid of me, and I’m sure my actions didn’t help with that at all. I probably solidified any notions or fears he had of me the minute I changed. How could I have not? I know the other wolves have referred to us as the demons of the forest, and maybe with principled reason.
I didn’t mean to change into that though, I really didn’t, but something inside of me snapped. Call it my will to live. When he struck me, all I could think about was surviving, even so, I didn’t hurt him. It wasn’t something I could control or stop, leaving me with no choice but to try an enact damage control as it went on.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was my mate. You would think a carnal urge to protect me would h
ave been there, not the urge to see me dead at the hands of his pack. Everything I had ever heard or read about it, lead me to believe that the mate bond was a beautiful thing. Was I foolish for thinking we would just run into each other’s arms through a field of flowers, I guess so.
Maybe love and beauty like that wasn’t for beasts like me. I nuzzled my face deeper into the pillow, groaning out in pain. “Maybe I can just sleep it off.” I slowed my breathing, hoping to force myself into sleep, but found that to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. As soon as my mind settled and drowsiness took over, my find was filled with him. I could see him clear as day, outside of the fear, outside of the pain. The way I should have seen him if circumstances were different.
I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that he was the most handsome man I had ever seen, but that could have been because they made him for me. I craved him, desperately so. God knows what I would have given to drop everything, stop time around us so I could kiss him, touch him, taste him. Even if that would have cost me my life.
His entire presence made me want to drop to my knees and worship him. A feeling that no man had ever given me. The way he stood there staring at me had me weak at the knees. Everything about him was so dominant and larger than life. Commanding and vicious, addictive to be around. His entire presence sucking me in. He was so very tall, standing far higher than me who stood a whole 5′11”. He made me feel petite and small compared to him. Something I had never experienced. I never felt weak or small, but in his wake, I did, and damn it if that didn’t make me crave him more.
I squeezed my eyes even tighter, hoping I could push the scene from my mind. Desperately trying to make it fade, but I couldn’t. All I could see was him, and him alone. Standing there amongst the trees like a statue. Shooting daggers from his crystal blue eyes, cold and soulless looking, much like orbs of ice peaking from behind messy waves of chocolate brown hair that framed his strong chiseled jaw. The memory of how he looked at me, even though it was with destain, made chills flood my body.