"Wolfhunters. My ring is in the wrong hands, Ismena." Was all he answered.
Ismena's heart tightened on her chest in pain, fear and guilt.
The night's breeze nuzzled them as they walked out, he kept walking towards the gate. Ismena has always loved her apartment because of it's isolation, peace and serenity that comes with it. Apart from her old neighbor; Mr. Amil, there's no other houses for some good miles. Now, she didn't like it so much because she is so scared.
Immediately they stepped foot out of the gate, shots filled the air at close range, which told Ismena more than anything that they are being fired at.
“God, I'm gonna die tonight! They are shooting at us! Oh, God...!!"
She whimpered and pressed herself deeper into Wolfariane's broad back. She squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for death.
But, none of the shots reached her.
Wolfariane let the werewolf very close to the surface, he shifted, but only halfways, so he couldn't scare Ismena more than she already is. White furs replaced the skins in his arms, face and legs, his claws sprang out, his eyes went green and his teeth elongated.
With swift movements, he caught each bullet that comes in their direction in his hand, his eyes aimed at a target and he threw it towards the target's direction.
Shouts and pained grunts filled the air as he killed each and every target his eyes found with these bullets they'd aimed at them until the coast cleared a bit. There were so many of them.
He continued walking in faster pace, catching the bullets and throwing them back where they came from while Ismena was practically bumping into his back in her effort never to separate from him.
Terror at the commotion around them filling her but at the same time awe for the man that was protecting them...protecting her. He catching bullets—bullets!—with his hands!?
Who is this man? What is this man?
The more they walked towards the direction of the trees, the more their attackers filled everywhere. They came from all directions, shooting from all directions.
Wolfariane caught the bullets from all directions, his movement fluid, sharp and fast.
As they stepped further into the trailing edges of the forests and walked through the woods, his pace fastened, and that the same time, he threw a command at her. "Climb onto my back. I am about to run."
Instantly, she threw herself at his back, wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders and her legs around his wide midriff. Her arms couldn't meet each other, likewise her legs because of the huge width of him and the smallness that was her, but she held on as tight as she could.
His furs... She was suddenly encompassed in the softest thing she has ever felt in her life. So fluffy she wrapped her arms around it—him—tighter.
He took off in a dead run, with her piggybacked behind him. So fast, he was a blur of movement.
Ismena felt dizzy, but she held on anyway and closed her eyes tightly.
The Alpha King could have been even faster if he shifted completely, but there's the non-changeling behind him to consider, so he stayed half-shifter, but kept his pace fast.
He ran for hours. Fought for hours. Dodged flying knifes for hours. At a point, he climbed a tree and waited for the diversion he created to work, and when it did, he jumped down and kept running.
Ismena fell asleep on his back.
He knew when she first fell asleep because her arms loosened and she began sliding off his back. That was when he shifted completely to his animal form so she wouldn't fall off.
He took the wolf form, knowing that he'll protect her better in wolf-form than the form of him that despises non-changelings.
It was early hours of the morning by the time he arrived at the boarders that separated their home from the world of non-changelings.
All the running, diversions and long routes he took to arrive at these boarders isn't only to protect himself and the female behind him, but also to protect their home from Wolfhunters. Beasts in human forms.
Wolfhunters have been trying for centuries to get to their home, but they haven't been able to manage it...the Changelings make sure of that.
The sets that managed to discover the boarder two decades ago were killed before they could go home to spread the news or even before they could penetrate the boarders.
"Alpha King." Degar already arrived hours ago at the border and was only waiting for his Alpha King worriedly. The worry dissolved when he saw the huge seven-foot tall, white werewolf emerging in slow majestic steps through the trees with a small female hanging on his back sound asleep.