Chapter 7-The Wolfskin Unleashed.

Guys I am so sorry that it took me this long again. I lost my pad that had this and the other chappies to come on it, and I've been struggling to remember what I'd written. Some I'd already had written up on Word but honestly, this chappie is a SHIT ONE! I'm so disappointed with myself and I've rated it 55 out of 100. It really is...sighs...bad.

So this is what I've planned to do, I had actually found a couple of my papers from my missing pad and JEEZUS! I am so dis-organised that I couldn't even recognized my bloody writing on it hehe. I do believe that it got thrown out when we did a massive house cleaning 2 and a half weeks back. If I do find it, I will re-write this chappie and then re-post/update. Because seriously, there are so many other things that took place in order to better understand x, y and z. Anyhoo, what I was able to remember I wrote...but it's still shit. Please forgive me and excuse the mistakes for I am seeing them!! I just wanted to get the chappie out there and I was ready to put the story on HOLD even...Yup! That's how bad it got with my anxiety. I was going to break this chappie up buttttt, decided to keep the other part.

On another note, I GOT A TWITTER LIKE...HOURS AGO! I don't even know why lolol. Here's my twitter name: Mecky1Longling Hit me up ppls hehe.

   The silence that ensued was earth-shattering.

   Unable to speak...

   Remembering how to breathe...

   Eyes and mouth froze wide open...things that should've mattered became unimportant as surprise flared from the Old-woman's words.

   Shocked I stood—temporarily incapacitated from the neck go down; my senses having been frazzled and the swish-swashing sound of blood rushing between my ears. If this was the Old-woman's form of twisted amusement, then surely she exceeded a joker's expectations.

   "Quickly." Grand-Mère's shrill voice cuts across the room. "Let us return her at once."

   Immediately, I'd stumbled back into awareness from the sudden paralysis. Voice shaking, I managed to ask, "please tell me I heard incorrectly? You're not seriously considering sending me back to them? T-t-t-t-to those things? To Him?!"

   Pausing in her stride, her tone was flat when she spoke. "What do you mean by considering child, when there is nothing to consider? You were always going back...I'd thought you to have figured that out by now?"

   "But why?!" I cried, my pulse beating at a violent tempo.

   Pointing to my arm where the sigil lay almost fresh. "Weren't you listening child?!" The Old-woman shouted. "You have been marked...marked Jaxsa! Be it partial or not you are still bound to him. It's only a matter of time before his beast decides to, 'come ah crying', something—I cannot permit for risk of being exposed. You are marked, leaving us marked for death."

   It's an involuntary stiffening of the muscles as I fought desperately to remain calm. Like a needle in a haystack not wanting to be found—I couldn't pinpoint where exactly my anger was bubbling from. Poking me like the tiny needles themselves, I held back for as much as I could before birling on the Old-woman. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR EVER-LOVING MIND?! If you knew then the possibility of something like this happening, then why send me like a feast into the Lion's den in the first place?! For Christ sake's Old-woman, I'm your fucking grand-daughter! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

   She started to move forward, then whirled with an unexpected slap to my face. Head swivelled to the side, it cracked sharper than a whip's kiss as I tasted blood. The aftermath of its searing heat lingered before spreading towards my ear and then to the back of my neck. They said, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' but-Grand-Mère's fury had surpassed that with creative energy.

   She stood—alighted in the most dazzling form of magical rage.

   Mouth thinned, eyes cut into slits...the veins in her temple I swore threatened to erupt, pulsed rhythmically. "You were warned child," the Old-woman's voice oozed a suppressed caution that told me I needed to tread carefully. "Yet, you refused to see reason. You refused to adhere to any of my warnings! Did I see an opportunity knocking? Yes! Yes, I did. But Jaxsa—I also gave you one to turn away."

   I scoffed; dumbfounded by such an assault from the Old-woman's tongue.

   "I was not able to fight the call when I became his match. And mayhap it was blind stupidity that thought you would've been stronger to resist but alas, I digress...for it was imminent. The lines within your blood are potently intoxicating and parallel to the beast. In other words, Jaxsa—you. Were. Hopeless." Wiping her hands on a tattered cloth, her smile was tight-lipped, "however, all can be forgiven if you continue to remain ignorant."

   Scowling, I had nothing but scorn in my voice as I stated, "You are something remarkable Grand-Mère."

   Her features were stone-hard as she gave a mocking reply. "Touché."

   Suddenly, grabbing the earthenware vessels she'd pulled out earlier along with some leaves and other herbs, the Old-woman then placed a large metal pot over the fire. Inclining her head, she chewed on some mugwort before spitting it out. Alcee had disappeared shortly after some swift, yet hushed instructions were whispered into his ear and the La Diablesse—still laid, spluttering on the floor.

   "Despite warning him to stay back, your cousin stirred more trouble for us when he decided to intervene. Granted, he had every— " she faltered, pulling back from revealing more before laughing bitterly. Shaking her head, she muttered, "but I see now that the apple falls not far from the tree."

   Pinching the bridge of my nose, I was slammed with another wave of dizziness. "Then perhaps you should've done better in keeping him at bay Old-woman. And correct me if I'm wrong but—aren't we the apples that fell from your tree?"

   She paused in her ministrations, eyebrow arched and eyes glinting dangerously. "And if I were you Jaxsa, I would be very careful as to what I allow leave my mouth," she stated evenly.

   It hadn't occurred to me that she was waiting for a response until that same, slightly greyed eyebrow arched much higher than was ordinary. At my nod, she continued. "Does he still walk with his Command Warriors?"

   "Of all the things to ask me you don't even know that?"

   "Jaxsa." Her eyes flickered again with a sign of warning.

   Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest. "My apologies. And yes, they walk with him still...why?"

   "Mayhap it's why he's been so patient...He's waiting for another entrance. As in—he's waiting for you to let your guard down again so that he can fully complete the binding process." Without delay, she grounded some seeds together in the mortar and pestle set. Looking up, her eyes regarded me abrasively. "Somewhere along the line Jaxsa, you gave him an opening. And that-besides the sigil, tells me that you are bending more and more to his will."

   "But what does that have to do with the Command Warriors?" I queried.

   Leaving my question unanswered, the Old-woman then reached for a crystalline jar hanging atop the chimney. Tossing the lid, she gave it a quick sniff, before emptying its contents into the metal pot. "Answer me this."

   "Oh, please not this again," I groaned.

   "When something that thrives on free-will and not meant for confinement, is caged by force...what do you suppose happens to it?" She doesn't wait for a response as she supplies it for me. "They would counter-attack—retaliate that is...unforgivingly. He's had to take a different course of action when coming to you Jaxsa. Because before you and myself, I heard from the Collector that there were several other matches from our bloodline. To be exact, my great, great Grand-Mère and her Mère as well. Yet, he is still without an heir and mayhap you can say a match as well. Time is of the essence with it ticking, and until he's fully completed the binding process...he's in a bind himself."

   Hearing the crackling of the fire, my eyes focused on the crushed herbs and plants being thrown into the pot. Having burnt the mugwort into tea, it's then poured into one of the earthenware vessels, washing it clean.

   "Grand-Mère," I uttered unsurely, head tilted slightly to the side. "Are you trying to say that he too is on a leash?"

   Snapping her fingers with a click, she made what sounded like a noise of approval low in her throat. "It appears that you aren't as dim-witted after all."

   Ignoring the slight, I eagerly asked, "but whom has him on a leash?"

   "Why do you think they walk with the Command Warriors? The Lord leaders, that is?"

   Shaking my head, I shrugged, "I don't know Grand-Mère, I thought they were his top warriors."

   "No girl!" the Old-woman snapped. "Must I supply you with everything? I can only imagine what all you've managed to overlook." Walking to stand before me, it's a struggle with not cowering away from such an intimidating sight. "It's because he too can be slain just as easily as any other Lycan Wolfskin."

   Frowning, I blinked. "I still don't understand."

   Rubbing the same chin she'd slapped soothingly as though I were a struggling child of nine (9), she murmured, "I know dear. I wasn't expecting you too." Drawing her hand back, she leaned away. "In summary, him being older makes him stronger but—there are others just as strong...and just as old."

   "His Command Warriors," I said, as it all began to sink in.

   Nodding her head, she stated, "They are, if not—stronger than him. Centuries ago, the Elders first thought to bind the Command Warriors to each territory pack's Lord leader as though they were matches. They insisted that having them bound to the Lord leaders would yield loyalty." A tiny smile curved the Old-woman's lips. "However, despite yielding their strengths, they are not for want of it. Clever they thought to use our kind in doing their evil bidding but feel no remorse when it comes to cutting us down."

   "Are the Command Warriors capable of killing him, despite being bound?" I asked.

   "From what I have gathered, their allegiance to the beast has them standing with him...than against. However—I would not be so quick to dismiss the notion."

   I'd pondered whether I should confess what the Three Musketeers had done to the Collector's workroom but—decided best not too. After all, the Old-woman herself is no stranger when coming to keeping secrets. "What about commands? I mean they are called Command Warriors for a reason. Are they strong enough to go against one?"

   She frowned. "Now that I think about it, from what I can remember, it was always about what he said and how he would say it. He's only allowed to order them to which benefits him. Anything else I gathered posing a potential threat to their species...would not be followed."

   "So, not only are they guards but sitters as well. Alright, where does that leave me Grand-Mère? If he's on a leash, does that not make him a puppet? And me—his shadow?"

   "Yes and no."

   Frustrated, I was about to speak however, the jutting of her chin and narrowing of her eyes signalled for my silence. "Let me finish, Jaxsa. Yes, another or countless others are plucking the strings, but again, I must remind you that something not meant to be caged would retaliate." She shook her head in derision. "Whoever is foolish enough to think that they have the upper hand would soon find themselves in for a rude awakening when he decides to unleash."

   Feeling rather irate, I felt my anger resurfacing. "And here I am; standing directly in the middle of a crossfire. It's beast vs beast," I sneered. "Oh, and forgive me Old-woman for I fear excluding your kind would be blasphemous...It's beast vs beast vs beast."

   "Don't be rude dear, our kind. And it bleeds my heart in having to know that you are the means to a necessary end. A casualty of war. I suggest you start equipping yourself with more patience."

   Curling my lip in disgust, it's a cold wind blowing as I faced her dead on. "My mother is probably turning in her grave as we speak."

   Her tone was clipped, and spine rigid. "What makes your pretty little head think she ever made it to a grave?"

   At her words, my breath caught. A hand like a vice seemed to seize my chest, squeezing tighter than was possible. "You of all persons Jaxsa should not find that shocking," the Old-woman clucked her tongue.

   Before long, footsteps resonating from outside neared as Alcee re-entered the shanty. "De coas' clear so far Ole-Mère. But I nah sure fuh how long." Nodding her head firmly, my fingers are roughly pried open as one of the earthenware vessels is placed into my hand.

   "Drink this," Grand- Mère ordered.

   Eyebrows furrowing deeply, the rancid smell coming from the contents within the vessel assaulted my nostrils. "What is it?" I asked.

   "Something to conceal the sigil and our scents...hopefully."

   Willing myself to comply, I opened my mouth to drink, but the La Diablesse is quick to croak 'stop.' Dragging her worn body across the now battered floorboard scattered with splinters, she brought the string of burning coals to her lips. Eyes aglow, she whispered unto it words of concealment before tossing it at my feet.

   "Trow dah in de vessel."

   Cocking my eyebrow, I teased, "has that impact boggled your mind, La Diablesse?"

   Dark lips pulled back to reveal uneven, yellow stained teeth. "Yuh want de 'erbs tuh wuk?! Den do as meh say!"

   Picking the string of burning coals up, I looked to Grand-Mère for reassurance. At her nod, I threw it in. The contents fizzed upon entry and flummoxed—I watched quickly how each coal dissolved.

   Chugging it down, I shuddered at the taste. Feeling like chalk-dust on my tongue, it burnt all the way down to my stomach.

   Taking the earthenware vessel from my hand, it's a look of regret I'm given from the Old-woman before a blow at the back of my head has me heading to the floorboard. Before I'm fully blanketed in the darkness, her voice sounds through.

   "Look to the Collector...Find the first. And Jaxsa—forgive me."

                                                                                             *

   I awoke with a start. Head throbbing, vision waning in and out of focus... between the fissures of light seeping through tall trees, I knew with certainty that I wasn't in the shanty as my body laid on what appeared to have been the bottom of the forest's bed.

   The scent of mildew on fir and sandalwood leaves tickled my nostrils as I sat up—slowly trying to take in my surroundings. Except for my breath escaping in large puffs—there wasn't a single flicker of life. Nor was I sure as to what part of the forest I had been placed in. But what I did know though, was that I'd felt hurt...and betrayed.

   Ensconced in a world of puppeteers where the smell of chicanery brew vastly, if the Old-woman thought for but a second more that I would continue doing her nasty biddings—then she had another thing coming.

   Deciding it better to not lay around unprotected, I struggled to my feet. The dampness of the ground squashed between my fingers as I tried, with light movements to steady my swaying body from toppling over.

   The coldness had grown harsher, leaving the night coated in an unnaturalness that made my shoulders tremble uncontrollably. Rubbing some warmth into my palms, it wasn't until my arms were wrapped tightly around my waist that I'd realized my blouse had been changed.

   Still, of colour resembling what I'd first worn, it was almost passable, if not for the lace ruffling around the edges of both sleeves. Call me inquisitive, but I began unbuttoning the blouse before yanking my right arm out.

   Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a single nick or tear. Mouth agape, I stood— staring at an unblemished arm. Almost as though I hadn't experienced a spell of manifestations. The tea or whatever concoction I'd swallowed, had done its job. However, I knew what truly laid beyond the concealment spell.

   That being the case, I left all well and done as I buttoned the blouse back up. I needed to find a way out and worrying over something that was out of my control was a waste of useless energy.

   Looking around, there's little I can make out with minimum lighting. What was once a lively forest, now beats without a pulse. Its nature's beauty having been consumed, and before I knew it, my feet began a cadence of its own.

   Initially, I thought that launching in any direction would be better than standing around aimlessly but—the further I went—the more lost I became. Despite threading a straight path, it felt like I was walking in circles. However, at that very moment...I knew I wasn't alone anymore.

   The rattle from their breaths accompanied by the humming of their growls vibrated through my body. Snarling viciously and panting excessively...They sounded menacing. I had forgotten that this wasn't just any forest that housed elks, owls, rabbits and bears. No...this was the forest where its residence walked on feet that were backwards...

   Douens.

   The snap-clicking sound of twigs and branches being broken added to the intensity of their gentle pursuit; as heavy limbs walked nimbly on lithe bodies. I could only imagine what they thought awaited them. A meal stupid enough to have wandered this far out at night...and alone.

   Soon afterwards, one began to make this strange noise, almost like that of a wounded dog. Yelping incessantly until the others joined in.

   A chorus.

   I tensed up, preparing to make a run for it as they grew in their melody when another sound pierced the air. This one was much deadlier...more aggressive...and way more hostile.

   A brush of the bushes to my left saw a large figure emerging, hunched from the shadows.

   Lochna appeared...and not a moment too soon. Eyes pitch black, talons—an extension of his fingers, sharply curved and at the ready for infliction of pain, glinted in the little access of light as he approached. The noises had long ceased and mayhap—upon his arrival they sensed a predator far beyond their means. After a few moments of silence, he spoke.

   "They're gone," he stated, having returned to his normal self. I felt inclined to thank him but thought better of it.

   "Now look who deserves an award for chivalry?" I drawled sarcastically, my lips curving upward.

   He simply chuckled, paying me no mind. Shaking his head, he said, "and look who pulled another one of her disappearing acts. Aren't you tired of being classed as someone 'extremely predictable?' Because lovely girl, your antics are becoming quite tiresome."

   "Ahh, you call it 'extremely predictable,' and I call it, 'wanting to rid myself of rabid dogs.'"

   Lochna's eyes narrowed, studying me. "Careful...or you may find yourself as dinner to these same 'rabid dogs.' Now, come," he ordered, before turning in the direction from whence he came. "Lane is anxiously awaiting your presence. And do not attempt to flee from my side. I meant what I said. I'll surely let them have at you."

   "Who is the girl I always see you with?" I asked, hoping for a change of 'verbal scenery'.

   "Girl?"

   "Yes. The Black For—I mean—oh goodness."

   Tossing his head back, Lochna gave a belly-full of a laugh at my discomfort. "You mean Luxana."

   "Is that her name?" I mused.

   "Hmm..."

   "Who is she to you?"

   "The same thing you are to Lane," came his swift reply.

     Aghast I sputtered, "But, you two look so much alike?!"

   He chuckled again. "Yes...unfortunately there's a slight resemblance."

   "But if she is your match, then why have her as a follower? Why condone her being a plaything to the Command Warriors?"

   His back muscles tensed and shoulders stiffened at my words. Seething, he rounded on me. "I condone nothing. And until she is of absolute certainty with surrendering herself wholly to me—she has free-reign of her will."

   "But she is your match?!"

   "Really? I hadn't noticed. And here I thought all along you weren't our number one camp-follower," he teased. Sobering up he murmured, "nothing is ever solely ours, lovely girl...remember that. Besides, I'm not in a rush to fuck someone that could pass as my bloody sibling."

   Surprisingly, I found myself laughing along with Lochna; but the thrumming of a pounding coming from my head had me keeling over sideways for relief. Whilst this was happening, I'd noticed something in the waistband of my pants...a small herbal pouch. Deciding best to keep it out of sight, I slowed pace, bending more to remove my left boot before throwing the pouch in.

   "What's wrong with you?" Lochna asked, his eyes fixed upon me intently.

   Righting myself quickly to avoid suspicion, I mumbled an 'it's nothing' before walking ahead.

   Once we'd reached the edge of the forest that opened into the back-lands of territory pack's castle, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. The 'Big top' was the only thing left standing forebodingly in the centre of the grounds as the moon—illuminated it with its mist.

   Bawdy laughter resonating from inside increased as we neared; drowning out the beat of my rapping heart. Pulling the flap of the large canvas tent back, Lochna stepped aside for me to enter first, before following suit.

   It was worse than a tavern in here. Skirting on the line of a brothel as women—some being performers and others: followers were snared by the waist, lounging atop the pants of men as though they were stools.

   Townsmen wobbled from pillar to post as some kept toppling over from legs too weak to carry bodies overloading on mead and ale. And that damn mammoth of a bear was still in its cage, circling it as though trying to figure a way out.

   I saw no sight of the newly 'recruited' matches, as I was sure that they were being inaugurated into their new home beneath the over-ground.

   "How lovely of you to finally join us, Jaxsa."

                                                                                         *

   For a timeless moment, I couldn't move. Dead man eyes slowly perused my body; holding me captive. It took every ounce of courage I had to remain calm. A part of me longed for nothing more than to escape. But even I knew that I wouldn't have made it two (2) feet before I was caught again.

   Clad in nothing but his leather black pants and amidst the revelry as though he belonged...was him... the bloody Wolfskin. The room seemed to sizzle with the power of his presence as he stood in the centre, feet braced apart.

   Despite that, I realized whilst viewing my surroundings and his person that—something was off. Everything and everyone seemed intricately placed.

   "Call it blind ambition if you must, but I thought, foolishly for once that- 'she would have complied.' However, much I knew of it being impossible, I still thought to give you the benefit of the doubt. Stupid girl. Have I not done enough for you? I've fed you well, kept you clothed—   saw to it that you remained untouched." Squeezing his eyes shut, he seethed, "we had an agreement...and you reneged on it.

   "Why, Jaxsa do you continue to spurn my affections and turn away in hateful contempt? Why, when I decide to give you leeway, you attempt to take villages? I tell you to jump, yet you never ask how high. I say sit, however you stand. Must you be such a damning nuisance?!"

   Scoffing, I levelled a scowl at him. Only he is insane enough to see himself as the victim here. Meanwhile, the Three Musketeers each stood in a darkened corner, silently watching their Lord leader.

   A frown creased the Wolfskin's forehead. "Your smell is not of the same." Tipping his head back, he took a long sniff. A flurry of panic assailed me as my mind raced frantically with dozens of questions as to whether the concealment spell worked. I was quite certain that it had, and if not-surely Lochna would've said something about it? Taking a glance, our eyes collided; catching him next to a Musketeer. The bastard has the audacity to throw me a wink...

   "Hmm," the Wolfskin smiled wickedly. "They are becoming braver and braver each day I see." Dipping his head in a nod, "I must do something to quell that."

   Had I not known better, I would've played the ignorant doe. Instead, I was furious, confused, and frightened at the same time. His eyes kept flickering from normal...to that of pitch black. Lochna and the Musketeers had also inched closer as they too branded their silver daggers.

   He wouldn't dare...not in front of humans.

   The rattling of a cage had me turning to see the bear now rocking from side to side; almost as though it was sensing something untoward. It wanted release. A different kind of release...And I couldn't help but identify with its plight.

   Pulling out his dagger, the Wolfskin then brought his left arm up; shielding half of his face. Of the two (2) years since my taking, never have I been privy to his actual beast beneath the skin.

   A pitch-black right eye glared frost into mines as he whispered, "unleash Wolfskin." And in one swift movement, like silver fresh off a whetstone, the swipe from the dagger was effectively clean; polishing it with red liquid.

   The Wolfskin's body had curled in, twisting from left to right as though he was battling internally with himself. A deep, mournful sound escaped his lips as the first sound of a crack...or was it a click could be heard?

   Snap-click. 

   There it was again. Almost to that of the snap-clicking sounds I'd heard from before in the forest yet—this was more distinct...like that of bones. All eyes were now on the Wolfskin as his body started bobbing up and down, racked in shudders.

   Snap-click.

   Rising, it was now clear as to where the sound resided as his chest and abdomen heaved inwardly with a clinch, before unclenching almost gruesomely.

   Snap-click.

   "Arghhhhhh!" the anguished voice of the Wolfskin bellowed. His eyes shut tightly and shoulders splayed back.

   Snap-click.

   Came the clenching once more; this time more brutally as his skin began to look beyond stretched. His abdominal muscles kept shifting, only to realign into the same place. However, much thicker in the layers of skin as the colour paled.

   Dropping to his knees saw more of his leather pants splitting at the front. Shoulder width expanding and talons: elongating. This was a revealing of whom the real 'top dog' was as onlookers stood, shell-shocked at such a riveting showcase.

   With a strangled cry and trembling of limbs—we witnessed the finale.

   First protruded a snout. And then—pointed ears. Following suit was his teeth; slightly curved, strong and extremely sharp. But the spectacular stopper however...was his eyes. They weren't pitch black anymore. No... Somewhere between his transformation resulted in them turning the exact pale white colour of his skin.

   All parts seemed like an extension of what already laid there as slowly—the root-like tentacles of hair sprouted from beneath. Swaying back and forth in the light sneeze of breeze, I thought Lochna to be of antique and brass. However, the Wolfskin, in this moment, fringed somewhere on the lines of primordial.

   He was—not so flawless in the caress of his change but—flawless in the way he let the change dominate him.

   Standing at about 8ft in height, he was the definition of lethality.

   A huffing exhalation of breath here...and then another puff of breath there...And before long—   screams rented the air.

   I so did not do Lane justice here...but this was all I could remember...sighs. Some editing to come...