Page 12 of Rejection on the Full Moon

After reading the article, I came to the realization that I’m low on medical supplies. Living life as a rogue sometimes means I have to tangle with Soulless, and when I have strong ones like ex-Alphas or ex-Betas trying to tear me apart from limb to limb, I find myself left wounded from the battles with those strong Soulless. With a smirk, I race around the house, double-checking what I needed before pulling a baggy, black hoodie over my body and grabbing a duffle bag.

Blood Moon Pack will not know what hit them.

???

"Get him!" Angry shouts sound behind me as I race through the night, howls from those who shifted into wolf form hot on my trail. But tonight is a successful night of looting. My legs carry me past houses, the window curtains opening as wolves peek out to see what the commotion was about. It’s just a normal night of looting, as usual. Soon, the safety of the trees comes into view, and the notion that I will be back into neutral territory brings sweet relief. Lately, the Blood Moon Pack has been laying traps for me, and many have become faster, but none could keep up with my speed, both in human and wolf form. No one in this pack is my match, and it sucks not having a challenge to face as you can only grow stronger in the face of danger or a challenging situation, and that is what I need to be—stronger.

The sweet scent of the forest surrounds me, my body dodging the densely packed trunks as twigs snap behind me with the pursuit of the pack. But I am a trained Tracker, and the forest is my domain. With quick footwork, I increase my speed and leap towards a tree. The moment my feet connect to the trunk, I quickly push off towards another tree, going higher and higher until I find myself on a strong, sturdy branch. Without losing momentum, I keep pushing off branch after branch using the tree highway to my advantage. As a Tracker, my greatest skill is my balance and ingenuity at finding the fastest way to our target. Why dodge the trees when you can use them as a path? As my friends in high school used to say, I have mad ninja skills.

A loud crash below me has me stopping in my tracks to peak down at the forest floor. Apparently, the idiots in charge of capturing rogues fell into their own pit trap they set up. Better them than me, though.

"Where did he go?" A deep voice roars into the night as a man catches up with the group, rage simmering in his voice. Some wolves were trying their best to help their pack members out from the deep trap. Their pursuit of me halted due to their own stupidity. You would think a warrior would be smarter than a tracker, but nope. Most were all brawn and no brain. Many wolves were running back and forth from where they lost sight of me to the large tree that I took shelter in, in an attempt to catch my scent, but the thing is, once a tracker reaches the tree canopy, their scent would be harder to find as it would barely linger in the air.

I couldn’t help but chuckle and enjoy the show of wolves scampering around like ants as a man orders them about. He was strong, but not one I would want to fight with yet, definitely an Elite member. He’s maybe a Head Warrior or Tracker, possibly a Beta. Leaning against the trunk, I grab the Ziploc bag full of cookies I stole from their pack house kitchen and settle down in the dark. The wolf in charge continues to bark out orders as wolves scatter in different directions, hoping to catch me. After thirty successful raids, I no longer felt surprised by their lack of coordination.

“Beta Christian, we have a problem.” A high-pitched voice shouts out. Moments later, a lanky teenage wolf in shorts crashes through the bushes, his face red with exertion and dripping with sweat. The teen must have been in the middle-of-the-night training because his build screams Tracker. A skinny body with long legs and a tall six-foot-five frame made the ideal frame for a Tracker. It is clear that this teen is new as a Tracker. His stamina is low with how out of breath he is, and he pants in between his words.

“There are Soulless chasing the Alpha. We were doing a training session with the pack link closed, and they came out of nowhere.” The teen stutters, collapsing onto the ground with exhaustion. This is bad news to the pack. The fact that a trainee was sent to get help meant that the Alpha is seriously injured.

"Where are they?" The Beta asks. The sound of urgency in his voice is bright and clear. I train my hearing onto the two considering I would need to figure out the way home. No one wanted to deal with Soulless. Soulless was what the werewolf community called wolves who have lost their mind. Their eyes were bloodthirsty and dull as if they no longer had a soul left in their body. They were wolves who had lost their soulmate either in a tragic accident or through rejection, or they were kicked out of their pack. In the end, they become rogues and lose their humanity until they are nothing but rabid beasts whose bodies decay until they smell like death and are close to the end of their life. The more crazed the Soulless is, the less humanity they have until their blood is nothing but black foul tar. Soulless were notorious for killing and slaughtering wolves without restraint, even killing those in the small groups they form. The difference between the Soulless and I is that I still held my humanity and held onto the hope that I will find my second-chance mate and live the life I always wanted. Yes, being rejected hurt like hell, but being able to live my life without worry or ridicule is something I cherished.

“We were training by the north border. They should still be there now.” The teen’s words cause my blood to freeze as anxiety take hold of me. The north border of this pack is close to where my home is. If the Soulless took out the Alpha, there are one of two directions they could escape to. They could either continue onto the territory and kill innocent wolves or turn around and chance upon where I live and destroy the house I have been working hard to improve. I decide to rush past the group of wolves searching for me, not bothering with the loud sounds cause by hopping from branch to branch, hoping to rush to the site where the Soulless were. I wasn’t too concerned with the Alpha of this pack as my livelihood and house were more important to me.

The path I took through the forest led me out of pack territory and into neutral territory to check on my house, happy to see that no one had been there since I left and that everything is still intact. This meant that the Soulless have not reached my house yet. Leaving the duffle bag in the kitchen, I run upstairs to take off the clothing I wore when raiding and switch to the Tracker outfit I had. It was an Iga Hakama Flat Hood Ninja suit with exceptionally lightweight black Damascus steel armour that only high-ranked Trackers were given in any pack. The all-black attire blends into the night perfectly but is still lightweight and flexible to be able to manoeuvre and fight in. Lastly, I grab my cherished throwing knives from Serena and Axel before leaving my house in search of Soulless. If the teen’s dishevelled and exhausted form is any indication, then they would be hard to deal with.

Chapter 8 - Dealing with Beasts

The night is eerily silent while my feet carry me through the tree canopy. Nocturnal animals were hidden away, causing dread to swell inside me. With how quiet it was, it meant the situation with the Soulless is worse than I thought. As I cross the northern border to the Blood Moon Pack territory once again for the night, the signs of struggle slowly grow below me with my eyes scanning the forest floor. You could usually sniff out the foul stench of a Soulless before you see them. Carefully sniffing the air, the scent of decay and rot reach my nose, causing me to feel woozy. I couldn’t help but use my black scarf to cover up my mouth and nose to rid of the stench I breathe in, stopping to lean on a trunk for support. I hated this stench.

The sounds of growling reach my ears, indicating that I am close. I continue forward, making sure that the stench is filtered so as not to get sick off the scent of the Soulless, and continue to keep an eye out for them. If I’m lucky, the Alpha of the Blood Moon pack would have escaped by now, giving me a chance to defeat these Soulless without having to worry about him getting in the way.

Finally, I spot the skinny frames of the wolves I am tracking. There are twelve Soulless fighting in a small clearing, with their snarls and growls creating a chaotic symphony in the night. Black puddles of their filthy blood drip from some of them, and the stench has grown to unbearable levels. Seeing that I’m the first to arrive, I quickly flip off the last branch in my path and fall towards the group of wolves. I land onto a black scrawny Soulless, the sickening crack of its spine breaking under my feet as its emancipated body crumbles under me. Some wolves get distracted by the sound, with four pairs of dull, red eyes turning to look at me. Their mouths are slightly open, yellowed fangs dripping with saliva and illuminated by moonlight, sending snarls my way.

"One down, eleven to go." I mumble, the prospect of a challenge causing the smirk under my scarf to grow. A wolf is sent flying past me, his fur reflecting the moonlight and catching my attention as I soon come to the realization that what I thought were twelve Soulless fighting amongst each other are actually eleven Soulless fighting against one wolf. The wolf came to a stop when his body hit the trunk of a sturdy oak tree, falling to the ground with a loud thud. I couldn’t take my eyes off his fur. Where my fur is like living fire, this wolf’s fur is living ice. His fur, made of different hues of blue, white, and grey, moves gently in the wind. He was huge and well-built, bigger than any wolf I have ever seen. He’s a strong male, bigger than Leo’s wolf.

My heart clenches at the thought of Leo, the pain of rejection still deep inside me. I hated knowing that I’m still trapped with this pain for another two years and nine months until I could find a new mate. In my distracted form, a Soulless takes the chance to tackle me, sending my body flying towards the direction of the ice wolf. The pain quickly subsides, and my training kicks in, my body twisting in the air and landing on my feet just in front of the injured wolf. For once, I was glad about the strict training I was forced to do by the Head Tracker of Forest Paw. Before becoming a rogue, I was one of the top Trackers of the pack, with the position of Head Tracker just in reach if I had stayed. But that would never happen now.

The wolf behind me shifts, a quick whimper escaping his lips before his eyes bore into my body. A loud snarl escapes his muzzle, and I could hear him shifting, ready to attack me.

"I am here to help." My voice rings clear, and I turn my body slightly to look at him. My eyes meet his ice-blue stare as hesitation to back down fills his eyes. We stare at each other for a heartbeat before he settles back onto the ground and nods.

"How many have you killed?" I ask, nodding my head in the direction of the Soulless that seem to be regrouping before us. They were closer to death than I thought they were but still just as dangerous. If I wasn’t careful, I could lose my life to them. The wolf behind me starts growling again, this time in short intervals in a non-threatening way, and I come to realize that he was answering my question. I start counting the growls, including the three I missed and wait for him to finish before speaking.

"Twenty-nine?” I question, making sure that the number is correct. The wolf nods in response. Seeing his face twitch as he winces, a feeling of helplessness fills me. I hated seeing wolves injured before me, especially if they were strong. They were the protectors of their pack and were needed.

"You need to rest, so leave the rest for me, okay?” I don’t wait for his reply before I take out two throwing knives and eye the Soulless. They had formed a semicircle around the two of us, their filthy breath filling the air and causing the nausea in my stomach to worsen. I hated and pitied these beasts.

The first wolf I targeted is the wolf closest to me, my feet carrying me in its direction before I send a kick into his side and sent him flying into his companion beside him. I make quick work of slicing their throats once they are down on the ground. This action seems to make the others focus on me and give the other wolf a much-needed break. They turn in my direction and let out menacing growls, not happy that I killed two more of them. I take the time to study the last eight Soulless while dodging two hunters who focus their strength on attacking me.

One had a limp but seemed to be an ex-Theta—a wolf who used to be third-in-command of the pack—, maybe an ex-Beta. He would be the hardest to take out. There were two wolves that looked to be ex-Trackers and the rest to be ex-Hunters. The Trackers would be fast in their crazed state, so I had to be faster. I change from defensive to offensive when one of the attackers lunge at me, my arm swinging out to slice at its paws with extended claws that were aimed to take my life. Black blood flows from its wounds as a howl of pain is released from the Soulless, and he tumbles to the ground. His partner—a female—lets out a snarl filled with so much hate that I wince as my ears ring from the close proximity. She swipes at my mid-section, causing me to drop low to the ground to dodge before aiming for her neck and slicing her jugular. Her partner whimpers as she falls to the ground, trying to stand up to get to me. I see sadness flicker in his Soulless eyes, and sympathy swells inside me before I aim and also slice into his jugular. I preferred giving them a quick and painless death.

From the corner of my eyes, I catch the Trackers trying to make their move. Their bodies were small and narrow, with muscles focused on their legs built for running and leaping. But behind their mangy fur, you could see each and every rib on their rib cages. I grab a handful of dirt from the ground before throwing it into their eyes, blinding them. The Trackers veer off their track of attacking me and crash into the trees. I hear the sounds of brittle bones being crushed, their skulls shattering on impact from how fast they were running. These Soulless fall to the ground, dead: four down, four to go.

I was left with three Hunters and the leader of their group. Each one of them eyed me warily, and I couldn’t help but let a sigh escape my lips. This was turning out to be a long night.

Chapter 9 - Saving an Alpha

I waited for the next wave of attacks as the three Hunters circled around me. The leader of the Soulless group waited patiently in the background as large snarls are directed at me. I thought the Hunters would be the easiest to deal with, but it’s clear I was dead wrong. The Hunters were far more organized than the Trackers. Clearly, they had planned out their attack on how to wear me down. I hated it.

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