Chapter 24 Neon Howl

Chapter 24 Neon Howl
Eric sprinted through the derelict backstreets of the industrial district, his feet barely seeming to touch the cracked asphalt. His wolf senses were screaming, tuned to a frequency that turned the world into a map of heartbeats and heat signatures.

"Young Miss! You’re finally here! These bastards got Philippe—they tore him open!" a guard screamed, his voice cracking with a fear that shouldn't belong to a werewolf.

"Then stop bleeding and start biting!" Naya’s voice ripped through the smog like a whip. "If you can’t kill a few bottom-feeders, you don't deserve to wear the pack’s ink!"

Eric rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, the scent of fresh copper and rotting scales hitting him like a physical blow. The alley was a slaughterhouse. Naya was a blur of lethal motion. She launched herself off a stack of rusting shipping containers, her body uncoiling in mid-air with the grace of a predator. She landed a heavy dropkick on two Flayed Ones, the impact sounding like a sledgehammer hitting wet concrete.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she seized their heads, her fingers digging deep into their skulls. With a guttural snarl, she slammed them together. Their heads burst like overripe fruit.

‘God, she’s a monster,’ Eric thought, a dark thrill of admiration racing through him. He slowed down for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on her. Naya was breathless, her chest heaving, her thick, muscular thighs flexing under the strain of her tight tactical gear. Every curve of her body spoke of power, and every drop of purple blood on her skin made his own pulse quicken. She wasn't just a girl; she was an Alpha's daughter, and she was breathtaking.

"Loup Blanc! Stop standing there like a tourist and start earning your keep!" a bald man with dark sunglasses barked. He was leaning over a wounded wolf, his hands red with gore. "We’ve got three more coming from the east! Move!"

Eric didn't flinch at the man's tone. He gave a slow, dangerous smirk, his eyes turning a sharp, icy silver. "Watch the wounded, old man. I’ve got the rest."

He turned to face the incoming threat. Three Flayed Ones—creatures with rubbery, translucent skin and faces that looked like they had been peeled back—were crawling over the brick walls. They hissed, their spines bending at impossible angles.

‘I see you,’ Eric thought. ‘I can hear the blood thumping in your necks.’

The lead Flayed One lunged, its blue claws glowing with a sickening light.

"Too slow," Eric muttered.

He didn't dodge. He moved through the attack. With a movement so fast it left a silver trail, Eric’s arm shot forward. His claws shredded through the creature’s chest like it was wet paper. He felt the sticky heat, the wet slide of organs, and then—the heart. He gripped the pulsating muscle and squeezed. It exploded, drenching his arm in violet filth.

\[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION\]

Strength: 37 (+2) | Dexterity: 29 (+1) | Intellect: 27 (+2)

Eric didn't even blink. He dropped the corpse and looked at the other two. They hesitated, their primitive minds sensing the shift in the air.

"Is that all you’ve got?" Eric challenged, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that seemed to shake the very walls of the alley. "I was expecting a fight."

The creatures shrieked and attacked at once. Eric met them head-on. He caught the first one by the throat, his muscles bulging as he lifted it off the ground. With a single, brutal twist of his wrist, he snapped its neck. He swung the dead weight like a club, smashing it into the third monster and sending it flying into a pile of trash.

"Eric! Behind you!" Naya screamed.

A fourth Flayed One had dropped from a fire escape, its claws inches from Eric’s neck. Eric didn't turn. He leaned back, the claws whistling past his nose, and drove his elbow into the creature’s face. Bone shattered.

"Don't worry about me, Naya," Eric said, his voice calm and terrifyingly steady. "Worry about them."

He stood over the last groaning monster. His claws, usually silver, were beginning to pulse with a dark, oily energy. He didn't know what it was, and he didn't care. It felt like power. He crushed the creature’s skull under his boot without looking down.

\[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION\]

Agility: 34 (+4)

"Damn, brother! You’re a cold-blooded bastard, aren’t you?" Xavier laughed, limping toward him. Xavier’s fur was matted, and he was missing a tooth, but he was grinning. "That’s Gilbert’s blood for you. Pure ice."

"Blood Awakening!" Xavier suddenly roared, his body expanding as he gave in to the beast within to heal his wounds. "Let’s clear the rest of this trash!"

The few remaining Flayed Ones began to retreat, sensing the tide had turned. But Eric wasn't done. He felt a pressure building in his lungs, a need to claim the night. He took a deep breath and let out a sound that froze the entire district.

"AWOOOOOO!"

The howl was a physical force. It shattered the windows of the nearby warehouse. Every wolf in the alley dropped to their knees, their instincts forcing them into a posture of submission. Even the Flayed Ones collapsed, their nervous systems overwhelmed by the sheer authority of the cry.

Naya stood her ground, though she was trembling. Her eyes were wide, fixed on Eric as if she were seeing a ghost.

"Eric..." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of fear and intense lust.

Eric exhaled, the dark energy receding. He looked around at the silent, kneeling pack. He felt like a King standing amidst his subjects.

"GRAAAAAHHHH!"

Naya broke the silence by finishing the last survivor, ripping its throat out with a savage joy. She stood up, wiping her mouth, her eyes burning as she walked toward Eric.

"Fufu... you sexy bastard," she purred, stepping into his space until their chests were touching. "That howl... You just made every male in this city look like a puppy. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

Eric didn't back down. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "I think I have a pretty good idea, Naya."

She giggled, a sharp, dangerous sound. "I’m not going home alone tonight, Eric. I don't care who says no."

"Young Miss," the advisor in the sunglasses interrupted, though he kept his head low. "The battle is won, but we have a situation. Your father... John... he’s already entering the district. He heard the howl."

Naya’s expression soured. "Tsk. My father always has the worst timing. Why did you call him?"

"I didn't have to, Miss. That howl could be heard from the city hall. He knows something has changed."

Naya turned back to Eric, her possessiveness flaring. She grabbed his arm, her grip tight. "We need to move. Now. If he sees you like this—covered in blood and looking like an Alpha—he’s going to put you in a cage or a coffin."

"Let him try," Eric said, his voice devoid of fear.

"I love the confidence, Eric, I really do," Naya said, pulling him toward a waiting SUV. "But my father isn't a Flayed One. He’s the Boss for a reason. Let’s get you cleaned up. I want to be the one to tell him who you are."

As they climbed into the car, Xavier leaned through the window. "Hey Eric! Don't forget! Once the Boss is done with you, I’m taking you out! I know a place with the finest she-wolves in the north—clean fangs, silky tails, the works!"

Naya’s eyes turned a deadly shade of amber. "Xavier... if you ever mention another female to my Eric again, I will personally peel your skin off and make a rug out of it. Do you understand?"

Xavier gulped and took a step back. "Y-Yes, Miss! Loud and clear! My mistake!"

The SUV sped away, leaving the carnage behind. Inside the quiet cabin, the tension between Eric and Naya was thick enough to cut with a knife. She was staring at him, her hand resting on his thigh, her thumb tracing the line of his muscle.

"You’re a mystery, Eric," she whispered. "Gilbert’s son wasn't supposed to be this... much."

"Maybe Gilbert didn't know everything about his own blood," Eric replied, looking out at the neon lights of Noctaria.

\[FINAL COMBAT STATS\]

Force: 39 (+2) | Endurance: 43 (+3) | Dexterity: 32 (+3) | Agility: 38 (+4) | Intellect: 29 (+2)

Eric felt the System humming in the back of his mind. He was stronger, faster, and more dangerous than he had been an hour ago. The civilian he used to be was dead. In his place was a predator who was tired of being told where to go and what to do.

"My father is going to try to intimidate you," Naya warned as the car slowed down in front of a luxury high-rise. "He’s going to use the past. He’s going to mention your father. Don't let him get under your skin."

Eric turned to her, a cold, confident light in his eyes. "Naya, your father is a Boss because he hasn't met me yet. Let’s go see him."

Naya leaned in and kissed him—a hard, desperate kiss that tasted of copper and adrenaline. "That’s what I wanted to hear."

The elevator doors opened to the top floor, where a massive man stood by a floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the city. This was John. He didn't turn around, but his presence filled the room like a physical weight.

"So," John grumbled, his voice like grinding stones. "The pup finally decided to bark."

Eric stepped forward, his head held high, his boots clicking on the marble floor. "It wasn't a bark, John. It was a warning."