The wind whips against my skin as I slink through the forest, a scowl permanently etched onto my face. Of all the hunters in my clan, I had to be the one sent on the most boring job of all. Hiding and watching a bunch of stupid, stinky mutts. I mean I don't know why we even bother scouting the werewolf packs and gathering intel. It's always the same story. Infiltrate their homes and slaughter the monsters.

My clan has been slaughtering werewolves for generations and now that I'm twenty they expect me to take on more solo and dangerous missions. Not that scouting is very dangerous when you know how to sneak around. We've been aware of a large werewolf pack in this area for a while but have been unable to gather any intel on them due to their organised patrols. However the perfect opportunity has presented itself. Through an informant with inside eyes, we've been told that in the upcoming weeks the alpha will be handing down the role to his heir. As such the pack will be distracting with planning and celebrating the occasion. Meaning less patrols and a chance to get some information.

The sudden crack of a twig behind me pierces through the oddly silent woods. My heart skips a beat and my muscles tense as I come to a sudden stop. I quickly unsheath my silver dagger which has been specially modified with wolfsbane to be an effective weapon against werewolves. My eyes and ears stay focused on the surrounding trees and dense shrubs as I quickly turn around. 

Crack.

More twigs snap behind a bush, my loud heartbeats fill the silence that follows. My hand tightens around the dagger. A large figure slams through the bush, sending me staggering back as it barely misses landing on my face as it darts beyond me and disappears into the trees. A fucking deer! Loud shaky breaths rack my body as I attempt to calm myself.

A growl of frustration rips through me as I throw my dagger into a nearby tree. I wipe the sweat off my hands and onto my jeans. Can't believe I nearly pissed myself because of a freaking deer. A deer of all things. Twigs and leaves crack under my boots as I stomp over to the tree. I reach out to retrieve my dagger when something crashes into me and I'm thrown to the ground. My head bangs onto the hard dirt, the forest around my blurring with red as blood runs down my face. 

A monstrous growl brings me back to the current dilemma I find myself in. A large feral wolf stalks towards me. Its body is covered in scars and missing chunks of black fur. I make eye contact with it and freeze at the blazing, hungry red eyes that meet my gaze. Not just a feral wolf. It's a feral werewolf. Shit.

I need to calm down and focus. I can take down a single rogue, no problem. Except it quickly becomes a problem when five more feral wolves prowl out of the bushes to stand with the larger black wolf. Wasting not a single second, I scramble onto my feet and make a mad dash through the trees. The wolves quickly follow me, crashing through every bush with no care. Not a single intellectual thought in those monster's heads.

I need to think of something. There's no way I will make it back home in one piece, the beasts would catch before I even get halfway. The only reason they hadn't caught up yet is the forest flora slowing them down. Sweat and blood run down my face as I push my legs to the limit ignoring the ache in my muscles. The only thing I can do is run.

I run and don't stop running for what feels like hours as the wolves gradually fall behind. When I can no longer hear them I slow down, and collapse against a tree, my exhausted ragged breathing shaking my body. The bark of the tree rips up the back of my shirt as I slide to the ground in a lump of exertion. Logically I know I don't have much time before they find me. Us hunters drink a special concoction that covers our natural scent and leaves us scentless. However, the scent trail of my sweat and blood will be easy for them to follow, no doubt. I'm screwed.

I let my head fall back against the tree and stare up at the canopy and the falling sun. A tear joins the sweat and blood as hope slowly dwindles away as nighttime creeps in. My eyes shut when the last stream of light disappears through the canopy, leaving a black starless sky. As I sit in defeat, I think back to all my training and hard work. All for it to end like this, to a bunch of feral mutts. I can feel the disappointment of my clan, more tears flow down my face as my fear and anger build.

The sound of growls comes from the distance, snapping me out of my self pity. Am I really going to sit here and let a bunch of beasts tear me apart? I can't let all my years of training go to waste. I will not let myself be this pathetic. If I'm going to die, then I'm going to take some of these wolves down with me. 

With my new resolve I push myself through the pain in my shaky legs as I stand, and slip my spare dagger out of my boot. I round the tree and find myself face to face with the savages. Their ears perk up at the sight of their prey. Me. The six of them circle me like sharks, slobber hanging from their snarling mouths.    Their sharp teeth shine in the moonlight, their greatest weapons on show.

I spin in a circle slowly, dagger at my side awaiting its chance to strike. A smaller, skinny brown wolf breaks free from formation to tackle me, claws dig into my shoulders and teeth snap at my face as we struggle in the dirt. I grunt in struggle to push its face away as I bring my dagger into the sides of its neck, blood sprays all over me.

Time freezes as the wolf stares down at me in pain, madness seeps out of its eyes until they glaze over. The body slumps onto mine in a defeated drawn out whine. One down, five to go.

The body thumps to the ground after a hefty push from my now red arms, blood from both the wolf and the claw marks in my shoulders. The others are furious now when I stand, still alive and they quickly close in around me. Two wolves close in on both sides of me and bite into my arms holding me still. My dagger falls to the ground as I struggle against their painful grip, blood flowing down my hands. The large black wolf approaches me and positions itself to pounce, eyes mad, jaw wide and ready to chomp down on my vulnerable neck.

Yet before it strikes an even larger wolf with a much fuller and well kept black coat with white paws, chest and underbelly flies over my restrained body and into the feral black wolf. The other wolves release me in shock and rush to help their seemingly leader who is being attacked by this new wolf. This wolf is not only larger but no ribs are visible, just strong tense muscles as it tears into the feral beasts.

I take the chance to run while they are all distracted until I get to a safe distance. Frantic ripping fills the air as I take apart my shirt and tightly wrap both wrists to get a control on the bleeding. I leave my shoulders unattended as they aren't nearly as bad. The pain shoots through my body as I finish the last makeshift bandage. Nothing about today has gone to plan.

I tense at the sound of wolves growling and crashing through the woods towards me. Either that lone wolf is dead or has joined forces with them to take me down. Likely the former as it appeared to be a pack wolf and those rogues wouldn't want anything to do with him. I draw my last dagger from my waistband and press myself against the tree, praying that just maybe they will miss my scent and pass by.

Their growls get louder and I hold my breath, shutting my eyes tightly. Blood rushes to my face as my heart pumps faster in fear. A sudden tight grasp on my bicep sends my eyes shooting open in a panic. Right before my dagger goes through this man's face, he grabs my hand with his spare arm, stopping me inches from contact. My mouth gapes open as I stare at the face of a tan lean man with black curly hair and a handsome angular face.

Where did this man come from!? And why is he shirtless!

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