Page 68 of Destined to the Lycan
The woman waved her hand in a way that expressed confusion. “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. I didn’t see anything. My horse just reared and started running. But one of the wheels had been feeling off for a little bit. I think it might have been coming loose.”
I grunted in response. She did strike me as the clueless type who wouldn’t see the truth even if it slapped her in the face. However, as I waded in the water towards the horse’s rump to sever the breeching, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. As I reached for the strap around its hindquarters with my left hand, I extruded the claws in my right hand. Once detached, I would be able to steer the horse by its breast collar back to the shore.
But before I could cut the breeching, the feeling of danger struck me hard. Something was definitely off… terribly wrong even. It took me a moment to understand.
All the scents were off.
Actually, it went beyond that. Although I hadn’t come close to the woman, I perceived absolutely no scent from her. Not only didn’t she seem to possess the natural aroma every living being did, but I also detected no whiff of sweat or fear that normally emanated from someone in this type of predicament. Her horse also didn’t smell right. It didn’t have the musky odor I usually associated with large mammals like horses, cows, and deer. Instead, I perceived a subtle scent of rot from it.
The only other smells tickling my nose included the water, mud, grass, and an odd fishy smell I couldn’t identify.
“Go on, Remus! Free my horse!” the woman exclaimed when I just stood there frozen.
Remus? How the fuck does she know my name?!
My spine stiffened, and I jerked my head towards the woman. Whatever expression she saw on my face prompted her to drop her mask of damsel in distress. Her gray eyes darkened, turning pitch black as an air of pure malice settled on her face.
She raised her hands and gestured while speaking words of power. Simultaneously, I raced out of the water. Just as I was jumping onto the shore, movement at the edge of my vision had me glancing over my shoulder. My blood turned toice upon seeing three tentacles shooting out of the water. The crescent moon shaped blades at their tips could only belong to a Tentrian. The first one missed its attempt at grabbing my arm, but the other two wrapped around each of my ankles with deadly accuracy.
They yanked me back with brutal force, stopping my leap forward midair. The shore rushed towards me, and I slammed onto the muddy ground, face down. The impact knocked the wind out of me. The tentacles pulled me back, trying to drag me into the water. Despite feeling dazed, I dug my claws into the ground, fighting for purchase. The strength of the aquatic creature dragged me a few centimeters before stopping. My claws felt on the verge of being ripped out of my fingers as the Tentrian continued to pull.
The four-meter-long creature was shaped like a giant eel, with a long dorsal fin and flowy tail. Normally, it would use the blades at the end of its tentacles—or in the two arm-like appendages on each side of its body—to slice the tendons of its victims so they could no longer fight. Then the three tentacles, which shot out from its mouth, would simply reel in its prey into its gaping maw. That it didn’t try to cut me indicated it could sense the poison in my blood.
I kicked and wiggled in a vain attempt to free myself of the tentacles’ grasp when a shadow appeared over me, accompanied by that subtle smell of rot and sulfur. My eyes widened when I glanced to the side to see the horse standing next to me, its eyes glowing red, dagger teeth filling its mouth, while a black, leathery skin covered its skeletal frame, with some of the bones left exposed. An illusion had hidden the fact that it was a dread horse. The demonic creature reared on its hind legs, intent on crushing me with its front hooves.
I barely had time to roll out of the way before it stomped savagely where my head had previously been. However, doingso forced me to let go of the ground I had been gripping on to with my left hand. The vicious tugging from the Tentrian made me lose my grip with my right hand. I slid back into the water, the rocks mixed into the mud painfully raking my back. As soon as the water submerged me, the Tentrian swam away from the shore and deeper underwater.
It intended to drown me.
My efforts to free myself only had it wrapping its tentacles even more tightly around my ankles, blocking my blood flow. Soon, my lungs began to burn, my exertion only depleting me even faster of any oxygen.
Understanding I would soon die, I did the only thing I could think of. I stopped fighting the creature’s pull, letting it draw me closer to its face. I doubled over, grabbed the tentacle around my right ankle with both hands, and used it to pull myself even closer. Too late, the Tentrian realized my intention. It attempted to release me and flee, but I held on and sank my fangs into the tentacle, releasing as much of my venom as I could.
But my predator—now turned prey—yanked its tentacles so hard that the one I was biting shredded itself over my fangs. Blood spread in the water even as the creature started thrashing from the effect of my poison spreading through it. In my partially shifted form it was even more potent than if I had been fully human, not to mention the additional enhancement from the looming full moon.
Not sparing the Tentrian another thought, I kicked my feet as hard as I could while swimming back to the surface. As soon as my head emerged, I took a huge breath, my head spinning and my lungs burning. The angry voice of the witch on the shore had me jerking my head in her direction. She was gesturing again, speaking words I didn’t understand as she cast another spell. I took a few more breaths before diving down and swimmingunderwater a short distance away from her but towards the shore.
As soon as I came out of the water, the woman shouted a single command. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a dozen jagged spear-like roots shot out of the ground. A few more centimeters to the right, and one of the spears would have stabbed me in the leg. I leapt over them, shifting into my full wolf form in the process, and began running towards the forest.
It felt like running through a minefield as more of the spiked roots abruptly shot out of the ground directly in my path, forming a deadly obstacle course. A couple of them grazed me, while one of them literally knocked me to my back. Part of the wooden shard embedded itself in my left shoulder.
I glanced behind me at the sound of a quickly approaching gallop. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the woman riding the dread horse, steam coming out of its nostrils as they quickly closed in on me.
In my peak form, I might have escaped the demonic steed. But in my current condition, I could never outrun them. The sudden shift in the air, the slimy feel to it, and the nauseating magical energy swirling around me marked the beginning of the Haunted Woods. In my haste to flee my pursuers, I had forgotten we were this close to this accursed place.
Without hesitation, I exited the path and ran deep into the forest. I had no idea what that woman was, but if she was human, she would be reluctant to leave the path. But even as that thought crossed my mind, another even more disturbing reared its ugly head. The woman had no scent… just like Lyall. Could it be him? As a doppelganger, he could take whatever appearance he wanted. Had I been wrong to trust him? Had he played me all along to steal my mate and murder me to take me out of the equation?
But why such an elaborate scheme?
As a demigod, he could easily kill me. I hadn’t been able to resist his mystifying powers. His illusion had been so powerful, I hadn’t even sensed the magic being used against me. If his goal had been to kill me in a way that could look like an accident or a tragedy, he could have simply created the illusion of a straight path ahead as I ran down the mountain but made me jump to my death over its edge.
A look over my shoulder showed the woman far in the distance still on the path. A wave of relief flooded through me. Lyall had no problem walking through the Haunted Woods. This further proved the witch wasn’t him. A part of me had known, but it still helped me breathe better to have this confirmation that he had not betrayed me.
But who the fuck is she? And why try to kill me with such a calculated ploy?
I wanted to go back and confront her, but I couldn’t risk it, nor did I have the time to spare. Ignoring the now added pain of my bruised ankles and wounded shoulder, I ran the rest of the journey through this cursed land while remaining inside the forest. As was their wont, the mystifiers and other evil spirits avoided me. By the time I reached the other side, I was beyond wiped out.
In that instant, I finally made my peace with the fact that I had overestimated my strength. Far too many hours of traveling remained ahead of me before I could reach the Weaver’s estate. I had no choice but to rest if I were to ever complete the journey on time. My chest constricted painfully at the thought that I might fail my woman. Deep inside, I could feel the shift growing. My werewolf was restlessly pacing, eager to take over. The clock was ticking, and not in my favor.
