41 - Gone

41 - Gone
~Hannah’s Point of View~

“Stop.” “Stop now.”

I understand now that when I’m shifted, understanding a human talk is too hard and that’s why I have to rely on the other lycans around me. Frederick says he can comprehend people after decades of teaching his lycan half, but he can’t verbally respond. I’m nowhere close to that and a million times more impulsive.

My body is also very much used to just knowing what to do in any situation and maybe that was always the beast side of me. I’ve always had to adapt and keep moving. A rogue can never appear weak and I was a master of disguise.

Except with Isaac. He tore right through my protective walls, he laid me bare when he demeaned me. For a child, one of the worst things is disappointing your parent and I never felt good enough for him. But that was just one of his many methods of controlling me.

When a big hand lands on my arm, I turn and give a low, menacing growl trying to assert some level of dominance. While I want to fight him, the lycan part of my brain tells me he’s my elder. Technically I should be following his lead, not trying to take charge. That’s how we are wired.

Frederick is right there, staring down at me. Only his face is that of a large beast, one that I know even a year ago would have me peeing my pants with sheer fright. But now? He’s a roadblock standing between me and what I want. I can’t even take the time to appreciate his massive and muscular form. The strength he must possess and his vast knowledge of fighting that he’s acquired over a long life.

I snarl and jerk my arm from him, but he swiftly moves his entire body in my space, blocking me.

“Patience,” swirls in my mind. I doubt that’s a word my lycan will ever understand. Not when I’m this close to ripping off Isaac’s head.

When another explosion rocks the earth, and the sharp scent of something burnt hits my nose, I’m moving and nothing can stop me. Through the stench I focus on that damn cigar smell. When I catch wind of it, I feel my heavy feet pounding the earth.

“It could be a trap,” swirls in my head.

I’m certain it is, but when the sounds of growling and fighting flitter into my big ears, running toward it is literally all my body wants. It’s barely a minute before I see the fight, maybe fifty wolves just in an all out blood bath.

My eyes immediately find Rafe, with his coloring he stands out like a sore thumb. Parker’s wolf has different shades of brown and many other wolves look like him.

There’s movement in a cabin and my body tells me there are four heartbeats within those walls. It’s literally insane how it just knows that, but I’m grateful for it.

I feel Frederick behind me, and turn for the briefest of moments. I watch in absolute curiosity as he picks up a wolf like it were a tissue, and tosses it casually over his shoulder as if he disapproves. I get the idea to do it, and quickly bend, snatching a snarling wolf in my hands. He can’t move with the grip I have on him, and it amuses me greatly. He reeks of sweat and booze, and the glaze over his eyes almost makes me question if he’s drugged.

“Don’t play around.”

I shrug at the lycan in my head, and without a thought, I toss the wolf at a tree. His cry of pain is just a quick squeal and then his lifeless body begins to lose its magic and shift back to a human.

Just then, there’s a nip on my leg, the slight pin prick of pain and I kick at it, sending a wolf flying feet away. A cheeky grin spreads across my face at the image of my brute strength and suddenly a game of soccer with rogue wolves for balls sounds pretty awesome. Certainly something my brothers would love if they were beasts in a fight.

“The house,” my mind tells me, and I turn my focus back.

Frederick moves to one side, and I do to another. The human in me tries to convince the beast not to kick through the glass, that a glass cut is bad, but it's like it doesn’t care.

But I’m distracted as Frederick moves in a quick swoop to bust a large branch from a tree, and then brings it crashing down on the house with a movement so fast I barely register it. I can only give him a nod of approval when he looks back at me. I reach for a branch too, though mine isn’t nearly as large. Once in hand, I take a step back from the house and pummel it through the window.

The sounds of the fight are still loud and active around me, but all I can focus on is who will come running out of the house. Frederick reaches for another branch, and again, brings it down on the house with the force of a pissed off tornado. This time, he repeatedly bashes the structure, until sure enough, people begin to run out.

I draw a deep breath looking for Isaac’s scent, and when I don’t find it… I growl and stomp my foot. My hand is already moving down and scooping up one of the males who was frantically trying to run away.

Though my vision sucks, there’s something recognizable about the male. I narrow my eyes at him and bring him close. I think his name is something like Eduardo, he ran one of the biggest gambling houses Isaac always frequented.

I cock my head to the side as he screams. For the life of me, I can’t understand him.

“Don’t toy with the enemy, kill him,” Frederick says, loud and clear in my mind. I nod, and toss the body over my shoulder, loving the power of it. If the landing doesn’t kill him, he’ll die a slow death from internal bleeding and probably be paralyzed.

I take a small second to find Rafe again in the fight, there are over a dozen naked bodies scattered around, all likely dead. But my gray wolf is still at it. When I see a black wolf make a move to lunge at him, I can’t help myself. My feet move so fast nobody has time to get out of my path. I step on several with my big strides, and kick the offending wolf away from my mate. He yelps and I know without a doubt I broke some ribs.

I don’t wait for any acknowledgement from my mate, I don’t want him to be distracted by me. Moving back toward Frederick, I see him holding two males, one in each hand. The large beast bares his teeth to the humans, whose screams pierce my ears.

When the lycan raises his long arm and points, I follow his finger. There’s another small cabin I hadn’t noticed maybe a quarter mile into the woods, and I’m stomping toward it within seconds. The light from it stands out in the otherwise black of the night, though when I’m close, it’s the lone heartbeat inside it that has my attention.

I’m within striking distance, so close that I--

Suddenly my feet are gone from the earth, and my entire body is thrown like a ragdoll. Another explosion rocks the night, the cabin suddenly a fireball that quickly ignites the trees around it. When my back lands against a tree I can only growl, pissed off. There’s not a chance in hell Isaac would blow himself up, and I’m willing to bet the person inside didn’t know they’d be a sacrifice for his games.

When a howl breaks out in the distance, I turn back to the fight. As if on cue, the second wave of our wolves comes in, completely taking the rogues by surprise. But then, a second howl seems to cue even more chaos. Within a minute the number of those fighting has tripled and Frederick and I can only kick them off. It’s a constant rhythm as I bend and pick them up then toss them away. Soon my hands are slick with blood and I have to stop for a taste, my body demands it. The thrill of the fight is alive inside me like I’ve never felt.

I’m honestly not sure how much time goes by, I’m too involved with cleaning my hands, I’m obsessed. The metallic nectar coats my mouth, my tongue. It’s like a shot of sugar straight to my veins that energizes me, fills me with an absolute--

“He’s there,” my mind tells me.

I jerk my head back and seemingly snap out of my daze as the fight still rages around me. My eyes focus and narrow in on a male standing maybe a quarter mile away. Pointing a gun directly at me.

There’s no fear, it’s as if my body doesn’t even know the word. I’ve got a taste for fresh blood but it’s not fully the enemy I crave.

I barely make it two steps when another howl breaks out, but I can’t be distracted. I have tunnel vision for the male standing so arrogantly, so cocky and proud of himself. The male who mentally and psychologically tortured my brothers and I for far too long. The male who stole us as babies and gave us this fucked up rogue life.

There is loud shouting all around me, but I can’t understand a word of it. Isaac created this chaos and now he just gets to stand there and not have to actually lift a finger. To do the dirty work. It’s much too easy to just shoot me like a coward. That’s literally how he always was, and I can’t expect he’d change. He never once changed a diaper, never once got up with the boys in the night when they were infants.

He got others out in the light of day to do his bidding and me at home. I was nothing but his slave and the ultimate icing on the cake was knowing what I’d become one day. That while a pup I was powerless to do anything about it. Too weak to stand up to him.

Not anymore.

My heart pounds in my ears as I see the bright smile on Isaac’s face plain as day, though we’re in the dark of night with no lights to speak of.

His lips move and while I hear sound, I don’t register the actual words. I’m within feet, within distance of grabbing him. I feel the wind against my face, the soggy earth below my bloody feet but it's all secondary to getting him in my grasp.

As if my mind is two steps ahead I can already visualize squeezing the life out of him. Having the strength of a beast to be able to pull him limb from limb.

My hand reaches out to swipe at him, but I only come back with air and the sound of a gunshot ringing through the air. If I was my normal height, he’d probably have gotten me right in the chest but I can’t waste time on the thought. I blink rapidly and swipe at him once more, only to find he’s gone.