Third person POV:
Midnight hung over the forest like a blood-stained veil. In the trees beyond the south wall, the Masked Man watched Becky slip away from his wolves, a dark silhouette moving toward the villa. He had promised to wait for her signal. He had no intention of waiting, determined to kill Dreyson tonight; there was no exception.
Becky reached the south wall and climbed. The rails of the wall and stone scraped her palms; the dagger at her belt knocked against her ribs. Her wolf's voice still whispered at the edge of her mind: Don't do it, Alpha. Run…
Her boots hit the stones, and she went frozen. Four guards stood waiting, knives and iron rods under the moonlight.
"Get the intruders!!" One barked.
They all rushed towards Becky, but she dodged incredibly fast, her powers heightening. Another lunged at her, kicking her chin. Blood spurted out from her mouth. She gritted her teeth, twisting to the other side, seizing his neck, snapping it with her hand, bone cracking. Their eyes filled with fear as the others stumbled back.
"Just a lady scaring you pricks!" One who seemed to be their leader shouted.
They didn't hesitate and lunged at her. Becky twisted, but a boot caught her in the ribs and sent her sprawling, driving the air out of her chest. A sharp ache shot up her side as she hit the gravel. She rolled, claws bursting from her fingers on instinct.
The first guard swung his baton; she ducked low and slashed his thigh. Warm wetness splashed her knuckles, streaking the stones red. He went down screaming.
They burst with adrenaline, charging at her. She raked her claws across the arms of one, spun, and drove her heel into his chest. He staggered back, gasping. Two more came at once; she dropped to one knee, swept her leg out, caught an ankle, then sprang up and clawed another across the face. She fought with desperation, fast and vicious.
Sounds of people jumping into the villa could be heard. All the masked men were here now, and as the guards saw wolves, they all began shifting to their various wolf forms. Everyone exploded into chaos: claws, steel, and teeth.
A shout echoed from the villa doors. "Protect the Alpha!" Anita's voice cut through the din.
"None of these werewolves are to get past the courtyard." Her eyes glowed red as she ran forward, sword flashing; she drove it into a wolf's chest, and it collapsed at her feet.
All the commotion dragged Drey outside. He stepped into the courtyard pale, but he still exuded that air of authority. His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, but days of being in his wolf form had left him weak. Anita came to his side. Around them, the pack formed a ring, protecting their alpha.
Her breath caught; she forgot to breathe for a second. Drey here of all nights. She had never imagined he would stand in her path tonight, and she was yet to see the man she was there to kill. Her claws flickered, retracting under the speed of light, leaving only trembling fingers. Heat pooled under her mask, sweat running into her eyes.
Drey lifted his head, spotting a familiar blonde hair, but her aura and mask made him shake his head; it couldn't be her. His wolf whined restlessly. "Was doom coming?" he thought.
His wolf's senses flared, tasting something familiar, but it was weak from the injection confinement, so he was unable to speak.
The fight kept on going as blood splattered everywhere, wolves gnawing at each other while Becky fought for a chance to get into the villa, thinking the person she would kill was inside. She could not draw on her power despite the training she had been doing; she could only rely on her physical skills.
Snatching a fallen sword, he swung it as a lunging wolf. Booze trickled down from the bite on her arm, making her grip slippery.
For a moment Drey's pack fell into disadvantage as Becky people had the upper hand, but she trembled, losing grasp of herself. Growls, yelps, and the sound of swords piercing. The villa began to look like a slaughter ground.
Becky had made her way close to where Drey and Anita were being surrounded when a wolf jumped at her. She fell, blood spilling, but she sliced its body before it killed her.
"It was a close call," she breathed in relief, staggering as she stood up.
"Hold them!" Anita barked, shifting mid-stride. Fur rippled across her body, her brown wolf form leaping at a grey attacker, tearing it off one of the guards.
Becky stared wide-eyed, as this was the same wolf that had pushed her off the cliff; anger tore through her. So Anita had deliberately wanted to kill her; one day she would pay the scores back.
The Masked Man's lead wolf a massive grey-black brute with eyes like ice, slammed into the defense built surrounding Drey, sending him falling across the stones. Anita quickly attacked it, howling. They crashed together again, teeth and claws flashing. Blood sprayed. The hypnotized wolves pressed the advantage, driving the defenders toward the inner hall.
Drey was retreating inside the villa as backup. Fresh warriors poured through side gates, shifting mid-run, slamming into the Masked Man's troops. The tide began to turn. Hypnotized wolves went down under coordinated strikes. Screams and roars tangled in the air.
Becky fought just to stay upright. Someone grabbed her arm one of the Masked Man's men, face streaked with dirt and blood. He bent close, his voice a harsh whisper: "What are you waiting for? This is the man Master ordered you to kill."
Her heart stopped as her eyes and that of Drey locked. "Him?" She questioned the man whose face turned black with anger. "Don't you want to save the black wolf again?" he shouted.
Her grip on the dagger slackened. The battlefield noise dulled to a muffled roar; she couldn't blink, couldn't breathe, eyes locked on Drey.
Becky's heart slammed against her ribs. The vision of the black wolf burned and wincing in pain burned in her mind. She gripped the dagger, drew it in a smooth arc; moonlight danced on its poisoned edge.
"No!!!" She breathed, "I can't let that." With a raw scream, she lunged at Drey.