CHAPTER 5
Agitated and out of control, Agatha, one of the women in the bonkers, was resolute and unswerving to join the battle; she felt the telepathic connection with her mate break; her mate was dead.
She wouldn't sit by idly and hope that the people that took his life would pay; she was going to ensure she made them pay herself, consequences be damned.
She had always been willful and headstrong. She was also one of the pack warriors, and sitting the battle out made her uncomfortable. But she knew the women would need protection if things on the field went south.
Losing her mate made her throw caution to the wind; Avery's words didn't register to her. In a different circumstance, she would listen to her Luna, but overwhelmed by grief, there was no room for reasoning.
The other women who had lost their mates agreed with Agatha. They had lost their soulmate and did not feel like they had anything left to live for. They were heading out.
As if playing a cruel joke on them, the doors to the bonkers were rammed into: the mothers transformed and started growling in the direction of the doorway; fangs out, the females were protecting their cubs, ready to die for them.
Shortly after, the doors burst open, and a gruesome battle began. Being led by their Luna, the women charged ahead and fought with all they had. Some were fighting to protect, and others were fighting for revenge. Whatever their reasons were, they fought. It was a gruesome sight.
The younger girls were asked to take the children to safety while the women bought them time. The children had already been startled awake by the commotion, and the girls tried to stop them from wailing.
Avery led the charge, with the women following closely and taking out the half-bloods. Agatha fought like a feral wolf, tearing apart everything in her way. She fought like she had nothing to lose, and that was true. She was literally a beast on the battlefield.
In some time, they had cleared out the assailants that had broken in. The kids were being led to safety, but the reprieve was short-lived as more kept coming and flanking them; the women stood their ground, but how long could they hold the forte?.
The men were overwhelmed, and so were the women. Now, nobody was safe. They were being slaughtered, men and women alike, and even the children would not be spared if they lost.
They had to keep fighting with every fiber of their being, hold out until their young could get to safety, and protect whatever little they could. That was all they could do as their assailants kept getting reinforcements.
***
Alpha Ryan was swarmed with enemies, who flanked him on all sides. He had left a mountain of corpses in his wake, yet the assailants kept coming. They would expand as many men as possible until they wore him down.
Huge chunks of meat had been ripped off his body, and flesh was hanging loosely on him. He was bleeding profusely and had a limp, yet he fought like he couldn't feel pain.
He was fighting relentlessly. When one of the wolves bit him on his already injured leg, letting out a yelp, he clenched his jaws tightly around the wolf's neck and ripped its head off.
He was battered and covered in blood, yet he still fought like a raging bull. He was unstoppable.
***
In a cabin on the other side of the woods, a man who looked like he was in his forties was seated in a rocking chair sipping a cup of tea.#
"Master! Master!! Master!!!" A hoarse voice called out.
"How dare you disrupt my rest," the man responded languidly from the cabin.
" My apologies, master!" The man responded, lowering his head in submission.
"Speak," he uttered coldly.
"We have lost more than half of the half-breeds we've sent to the moonshine pack. We couldn't fight them in our human forms; their Alpha was too strong; we were forced to reveal our trump card to them."
"So they know you can shift?" Questioned the man.
"Yes!" The messenger responded.
"Useless vermin," the man responded with rage.
Without hesitation, he extended his claws and ripped the messenger's heart from his body. It happened so quickly that he didn't even know how he had died. His eyes were wide in shock as his lifeless body hit the ground with a thud.
"That little brat is stronger than I imagined the man mused: even after leaving his kind all these years, he still wields this much strength. He shuddered at the thought of how strong he would have been if he was training and surrounded by his people."
Ryan was a full-blooded Versipellis, an offspring of one of the strong bloodlines in the North. He could have occupied a significant position if he stayed with his people.
"It's a pity I have to kill their brat. The boy has seen too much, and I can't afford to have any loose ends at this crucial juncture. It would be better to recruit a man with such strength. However, he knew the brat wouldn't concede. He was an upright man".
Wiping his bloodied hands with a napkin, he calmly made his way outside. Only a Versipellis would be able to take down another Versipellis easily. He couldn't risk more losses from his half-bloods. Otherwise, his decades of hard work would be futile.
It didn't take him long to get to the battlefield. He was moving at a speed that would be a blur to human eyes but felt like a warm-up exercise to him, humming a tune leisurely as he moved.
Looking at the massacre in front of him, he had mixed feelings. He was infuriated by the loss of the army he had spent decades amassing: such incompetent fools.
He had invested so much, yet here they were lying, lifeless on the ground because of one man. He was utterly disappointed, but he was thoroughly impressed by Ryan's strength.
"The boy is way stronger than I was at his age. I would have loved to have him as an ally. One of him is better than hundreds of those vermin. It's a pity he won't live long enough to reach his full potential". The man mused.