519- Blood in the Forest, Fury on the Horizon
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
"Maybe, at some point, when I feel less embarrassed about the fact that the entire pack knows I spent three days locked up fucking Anton nonstop, and when my dignity is restored with the passage of time."
They let out scandalous laughs that reverberated through the forest.
"So the answer is no," Aurelka retorted. "You have no dignity to restore."
"Of course I do," I countered.
"I think Anton won't allow her to move out of his house, not when he managed to convince her after so many months," said Lana.
I rolled my eyes as they laughed, but deep down, I couldn't agree more. Yes, Anton had succeeded, even if after a long time.
I started to smile, joining them, feeling a little lighter after having talked to them, after clearing things up. Aurelka and Lana were great friends, ones I wished I had met before and who had been with me through high school and college. Life would have been easier if I'd had someone to talk to, someone to share the truths I carried, the burden of being different among so many identical humans.
But they were with me now. And that was what mattered.
I stood up, ready to return with them to the village and find something else to do, when we were intercepted. They were too fast—fast enough that none of us noticed their approach.
I widened my eyes when I spotted one of them holding Aurelka's neck, pulling her toward him with such force that she was losing air, while another knocked Lana roughly to the ground. Leaves flew around with the blow, and Lana let out a groan of pain. He stepped on her back, keeping her in place.
I was overtaken by a wave of rage at seeing my friends incapacitated—the she-wolves who had reached out to me, who had welcomed me when I thought no one else would.
I took a step, ready to reach them and kill them all, when I felt a hand on me. Then I was pulled against a hard chest, colliding with the strong body.
"Don't even think about it," he threatened, whispering in my ear. "We're well aware of your tricks; we're not unprepared. One move and your little friends are dead."
They reeked of Mercantes—the three men who had cornered us. I observed them more closely, analyzing their silk and high-fashion garments. The one holding Lana wore leather gloves and a pocket watch. He seemed to be a little over four hundred years old. The one holding Aurelka was somewhat younger, but his gaze was just as cruel as the other's. I couldn't see the one behind me.
The man with gloves raised his head and stared at me, full of rage and disgust.
"You're coming with us, or else we'll kill these two right here," he spat, stepping on Lana harder, making her gasp in pain. "If you behave, they'll stay safe. We don't want trouble with the Eldoria; it's not in our interest to harm your people." He looked me up and down. "You, on the other hand, don't belong to them; you belong to us. Therefore, we're reclaiming our right."
I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw began to ache. My nails elongated as I lost control to rage.
"Who said I belong to you? Murdering my parents doesn't give you any right over me, you Mercante scum!"
He laughed and shook his head, adjusting a strand of straight hair with his hand, arranging it beside his pale forehead.
"If I could, I'd teach you a fine lesson on how to treat your elders, you insolent pup, but I have explicit orders not to touch you, unfortunately."
I looked at Aurelka and Lana, panicking, fearing for their lives. I would never forgive myself if something happened to them. The Mercantes were my burden, just as they had been my father's. Not the Eldoria's—they had no right to hurt any of them.
I wanted to pull out my dagger, but my hands were pinned by the bastard.
"Well, what luck I have; I must be very grateful to your leader for having such esteem for me," I mocked, drawing out the conversation, trying to buy time while planning a quick solution.
Lana squirmed, furious, sending clouds of dirt flying everywhere, while Aurelka remained still, seeming completely fragile and defenseless. I looked at her, noticing the same gleam in her eyes that I saw in Anton's. Gold and emerald green—the colors I had learned to love.
"Yes, very lucky, since the vast majority would like to have your head on a stake after you murdered so many of our people."
"I'm just returning the affection, Mr. Mercante," I taunted, laughing. "They invaded my home and killed my parents. Blood pays for blood."
He looked at me, fixing his brown eyes on me, and opened a mocking, conceited smile. I went rigid, frozen for a second, overtaken by reality.
I flared my nostrils, smelling him, separating his scent from the others.
I was hit by something invisible, as if I'd taken a punch to the gut. My pupils doubled in size, my lips parting in shallow breaths.
"You..." My voice came out, but it sounded far away.
He laughed, full of himself, and shook his head. He rubbed his gloved hand through his hair, adjusting the brown strands, hardened by gel, back. He lifted his nose, full of presumption.
"If you're recognizing my scent from somewhere but don't know exactly where, yes, I was present on the day of the death; I was the one who struck the first blow." His smile stretched even wider, showing a row of white, aligned teeth. "Thalyndra Moonclaw, daddy's and mommy's little girl. I wish you had been there, to have watched."
I bent forward, overtaken by pain, rage, and anguish. It wasn't the cruelty in his words that shook me, but the fact that he seemed to have enjoyed every second of what he did, how he destroyed my life without blinking.
His laughter made my hair stand on end. The Mercante behind me tightened his grip even more.
I straightened up and stared at him; my eyes were no longer the same—my wolf's colors predominated, as did my most primal instincts.
I looked at his neck, where the vein pulsed, pumping blood. I would kill him, execute him with a cut from my claws that would drain him, spilling him everywhere, taking his life for myself.