Lone Wolf (The Wulf Pack Book 1)
Chapter Forty-eight

Rage rushed out of the tent. The sounds of fighting had not reached him yet but he new they would.

He mentally kicked himself for not anticipating this. He should have known that two or three mutts going missing would have been fine, but five, they had caught on.

He had hoped to strike first, they beat him to it.

Everyone was exiting their tents, looking twords the trees, the air tense with anxiety and anticipation.

The sound of thundering paws on the hard ground was heard before they burst from the treeline.

Hundreds of wolves, both Rogues and Turned, in various stages of deterioration. All of them seemed to have a taste for blood as they attacked anything that moved.

The first wave was taken on by those closest to the trees, as everyone else rushed to help from farther inland.

Rage moved slowly, he wasn’t scared to fight, quite the opposite. He was searching for their leader. Scanning the trees for someone standing back.

He caught sight of Wrath as he pulled his hand from a wolves throat. It fell limply to the ground before he pushed forward to his next target. The wolf was ready, glaring at him as he drew closer. It lunged, but Wrath caught it, wrapping his arms around its body. If Rage didnt know what was going on it would have looked like a hug.

Wrath squeezed it as it squirmed, unable to move. The wolf dropped as he removed his constricting arms.

Rage looked away as the limp body wheezed for breath to enter his punctured lungs within shattered ribs.

His eyes scanned the treeline and found a human figure standing far into the shelter of the trees. The only one still in human form.

He made his way through the fighting, the ground already flooded with blood and littered with bodies. Faces blurred as he tried not to look at them, tried not to wonder whose men they were.

A brown wolf jumped from behind one of the tents, swiftly lunging for Rage’s leg. Just as swiftly, that leg swung out and kicked, connecting with the side of its head. The wolf let out a yelp as the other side of its head hit the ground.

Rage left the wolf there, not bother killing it. If it got back up someone else would take care of it. His eyes were focused on the smirking male in the trees.

Three more wolves lunged at him before he made it to the treeline. The first was swiftly taken care of with a dodge and grab, snapping it’s neck. The other two came at him as a pair.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he laughed as they lunged from opposite directions, smashing into each other when Rage dodged their pounce.

The first to recover lost his throat, Rage caved the other’s chest in, with his shoulder, like a linebacker and left him laying on the ground.

It felt like hours but was only minutes as he made his way through the battlefield. The sounds of fighting surrounded him, people still rushing from the pack to help with the fight.

His focus was on the male, the sly smirk across his face as he took in the chaos.

He wasn’t big or intimidating in anyway, he was actually pretty thin, a frail looking. His sense were dull or he was too focused on the action before him to notice Rage approach until he was nearly next to him.

The male turned, his dark eyes held a knowing glint to them as he looked upon the being before him.

“I heard that the Wulf’s had gotten involved,” the male said, pushing his lips together while he eyed Rage, “I wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but here you are,”

“Here I am,” he echoed, watching his opponent.

“And which one of you do I have the pleasure of meeting?” Gold eyes narrowed at the smugness in his voice

“Rage,” he wasn’t sure why he even bothered to give his name, it’s not like the male would live long enough to tell anyone.

“Ah... the Alpha Killer,” the smirk grew into a full smile making Rage frown. This male was either sadistic or just straight crazy.

“And who are you?” Slowly Rage took a step forward, he wasn’t going to talk all day.

The male shrugged.

“Just a pawn... no, more like a rook, yeah, I’m just a rook, sent to send a message,”

“And what message would that be?” Slowly Rage took another step closer, they male didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, just that there are more of us than you think and we are not backing down,” the male shrugged again.

“And what is it exactly that you are trying to achieve?” The male laughed.

“Me?” He pointed at him self like an excited child, “I want nothing, they,” he pointed at the fighting, “want freedom from the dictatorship that your family has put us under for generations. THEY want to govern themselves. Kings and queens no longer exsist, calling yourself “High Alpha” doesn’t change the fact that you rule like one,”

Rage couldn’t argue, it was kind of true, to a point.

“You know you’re not leaving here alive, right?” Slowly Rage took a step and then another.

“I know, and I am not going to fight you,” his smile finally dropped, “I was never a good fighter anyways,”

Rage stood in front of him, he nodded with a soft smile, “I have been ready to die for many years,” he dropped to his knees. Being as close as he was he noticed the gray in the males hair, he was older than he appeared.

With out word or warning, Rage gripped the sides of the older males head. Swiftly snapping it. He let the body drop to the ground, as he reached for his pocket knife.

Kneeling down he gripped a hand full of hair, placing his knee on the dead males back. It took only a few moments for him to remove the head from the body. He tried not to look at the rolled eyes and contradicting smiling lips.

He wiped his knife on the males shirt and pushed himself up, before making his way to the treeline.

He watched for a moment, watching the vishusness of the fighting. Rage raised the head and howled. It sounded fake, like a human mocking a dog, but it drew attention as he intended.

He held the head high, for everyone to see, blood still dripping from where it’s throat once was.

A few whimpers broke the deathly silence in the air that followed. Wolves turned, rushing from the bloody mess that was the battle. They rushed past everyone as they were let go, their general was dead, they would retreat like good little soldiers.

People began to take inventory of those who were still standing, of the wounded and those who were still alive. Nearly a hundred bodies lay scattered about the camp, most of them in wolf form.

Ethan and Wrath approach Rage, watching everything from the sidelines. His mind was only half on the movement in front of him.

“What now?” Ethan asked as the males flanked their Commander.

“We take stock, heal and prepare. This is not over,” not even close, he thought.

They watched silently for a while before they spotted Dare checking bodies with the Beta of this pack.

Dare spotted them and made his way over to the sallum group. Glancing for only a moment at the head lying at their feet.

“I will be leaving, the four of you will be in charge of getting ready for what is to come,”

“Where are you going?” Ethan chirped, his eyes bugging out of his blood spattered face.

“I have some things to take care of at home, but I will be back,” they all nodded, not bothering to question their commander. They knew he would be back and they knew what needed to be done in the meantime.