Amidst her moans, the initial three knocks on the door went unnoticed by him. The sound of her pleasure was like a symphony to his ears, a siren’s song drawing him closer.

  He vividly remembered the first time he heard it, astonished by the beautiful sounds that emanated from someone who was mute. It was dis-harmonic, yet loud and raw and pure all at once. From that moment on, he was addicted. And not just to her voice, but to her passion as well. With every shared moment, she brought him to new heights with her intoxicating enthusiasm.

  She excluded the same passion as with the piano. She was completely immersed in it, focused and lost in the moment. Just like a wild river, flowing freely and unapologetically. Her youthful body, still in its early stages of development, held an untamed allure that always made his head spin. At sixteen, she already played the piano and him with divine skill. He had known from the start that taking her under his wing would be a wise choice.

  The sound of heavy knocks on the door finally pierced through Anubis’s consciousness. He grasped his lover by the arms, slowing her wild swings as she opened her eyes with a mix of confusion and worry.

  “Pierre is waiting,” he said, his breaths coming out in heavy pants.

  He released her arms and trailed his hands down her body, caressing her pale skin with tenderness before resting his hand on her thighs. She nodded, arching back and reaching for a blanket to cover herself. The sight of her lithe form made him sit up, his long jackal tongue darting out to play with her stiff, pink nipple.

  A stronger knock drowned out her moan.

  Anubis made a wet sound with his mouth as he reluctantly pulled away from her skin and lay back on his back. She covered herself and rested her head on his chest.

  “Come in,” he commanded in a tone that betrayed his irritation.

  Pierre entered but stopped three steps into the master bedroom, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

  “I apologize for interrupting, sir. But you requested to be informed of any news regarding the mercenary. He has successfully captured the target and is heading to the extraction site, expecting arrival in three days.”

  “Excellent. Three days mean he either captured them close or he is in a hurry. Regardless, send those two mercenaries in the barracks to pick up the goods and give them the fastest horses we have. Also, remind them of what will happen if they fail.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Pierre bowed deeper than usual before leaving.

  “Well,” Anubis breathed out as he ran his fingers through his lover’s hair, taking in its cinnamon scent.

  Their gentle touch itching on his strong, defined muzzle.

  “I’ll soon have a lot of work.”

  She narrowed, still straddling him and not letting him escape her grasp. Her delicate fingers traced over his muscular ebony chest, setting a slow rhythm with her hips. One slow swing up. Deep swing down.

  As she picked up the pace, he let out a loud grunt and gripped her waist tightly with both hands, his nails scratching her skin as he deftly flipped them over, putting her on her back.

  She gasped. Her red hair fanned out behind her, resembling a veil, and her small breasts bounced with the movement.

  He arched his back, leaning in closer to her. His cold, wet nose brushed against her collarbone and his warm breath danced along her neck, causing shivers to run down her spine and making her swirl like a snake. But he held her tight.

  “You did so well just now,” he said, releasing his grip on her so he could lean on the bed with his hands, trailing his nose down from her shoulder to her chest.

  “Now let your master take care of you.”

  As he spoke, she clutched the sheets in both hands and her pupils dilated. She knew it would be rough. He was always rough when he was on top. But she had hope that she could change him. No matter how much pain she endured in the end, she willingly bled for him.

  ???

  “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Dave?”

  She stirred the bubbling potion in her mortar while he smoked a cigarette, his shirtless form illuminated by the dawn’s vibrant hues of orange and pink. Red couldn’t help but steal a glance at his chiseled features before returning her focus to the brew. A faint pink tinted her cheeks as she realized her thoughts.

  “You know I’m too old for you, Red,” he said with a chuckle.

  With another puff of his cigarette, he settled down on the ground next to her. His deep baritone voice was back, its rich vibrato filling the air.

  “Idiot,” she said with a smile.

  She was glad he was feeling well enough to joke around.

  “How much longer until it’s ready? We need to hurry.”

  “I know,” she answered, stirring the bubbling brew with care. “But it can’t be rushed. You need a highly concentrated dose.”

  “You know, Red,” he said between puffs, enjoying his freshly lit cigarette, “I’ve always been fascinated by how thoroughly you studied my kind after we met. By the way, it smells like a burning piss.”

  “I needed to know my long-term travel companion. It was essential for our quest,” she explained calmly. “Before meeting you, I was aware of a few things. And yes, it should smell like that.”

  “My piss definitely doesn’t smell like this.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at his childish comment.

  With a few moments of comfortable silence, accompanied solely by Dave smoking, the brew was prepared.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  She blew on it to cool it down a bit. But he gently pushed her aside and grabbed the mortar.

  “We don’t have time for this, Red.”

  He took one last, long inhale of his nicotine stick and drank all the contents.

  “Fuck. It’s even worse than I thought it would be. It’s burning piss with rotting eggs.”

  “Bon appétit,” she said, smirking as she took back the mortar and cleaned it with a wet handkerchief.

  From her shoulder bag, she pulled out a small flask filled with a glowing green liquid.

  “Do you have their trail?” she asked, taking a swig from the flask.

  Her face instantly paled as the bitter taste hit her tongue.

  Dave nodded and peeled off his trousers, standing naked, facing her. The bright morning light accentuated every muscle and curve of his sculpted body.

  “Dave!”

  She spun around, pulling her hood over her head to hide her flushed face.

  “I understand we’re in a hurry, but please warn me next time.”

  “Sorry,” he said mischievously, “but you always say that, and I’m certain that you secretly enjoy it.”

  Ancients, he’s such an exhibitionist.

  But it was part of his nature. His body was his pride. Humans were much more modest compared to his kind. Despite having seen him like this many times before, although she wasn’t an innocent young girl anymore, it still made her uncomfortable to see him in contrast to seeing other men. With Dave, everything was different.

  Before she could dwell on these thoughts any longer, a loud growl ripped through the air, followed by the sickening sounds of flesh being torn and bones cracking. Her heart raced and an icy dread washed over her entire body.

  It’s always so scary.

  She slowly turned around, her eyes meeting his. He tried to avoid this form, but she had seen it before. Yet, every instance felt like the initial one, instilling her with a primal mix of terror and respect. The light filtering through the trees only added to the eerie atmosphere.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, her tone laced with careful hesitation.

  Her hand instinctively reached out to touch his fur, which glimmered in the sun like polished silver.

  He met her gaze with his big, smokey charcoal eyes before elegantly nodding and bending down onto all fours. She took a careful step closer, her heart racing with anticipation and nerves. She lifted his pants from the ground and put them into her bag.

  “Alright, let’s get going then,” she said, trying to sound confident despite the fear bubbling inside her. “It’s been two days. Who knows how much time we have?”

  She gently grabbed onto the fur on his shoulders and hopped onto his back, similar to how one would mount a horse.

  “Sorry in advance for pulling your fur,” she added with a small laugh.

  She couldn’t see it, but she was sure he rolled his eyes at her remark.

  The moment she gripped him, he launched forward at full speed. She leaned close to him face-down, to avoid any unnecessary scratches from branches or other natural obstacles they may encounter. The cape protected her back.

  Her heart beat with excitement as they raced through the forest, the wind whipping around them. It was her second time riding him like this, and she hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

  “Hold on tight, Joaquin,” she whispered under her breath. “We’re coming.”

  ???

  It was far too late when Jalut’s heightened senses detected their swift approach. With lightning speed, he secured the bard tighter, rummaged through his bag for any herbs or potions, and leaped off the galloping horse with a harsh slap on Goliath’s hind leg to urge him toward their destination. Survival seemed unlikely, but he was determined to complete his mission.

  As they drew closer, Jalut couldn’t help but wonder how he survived. He had seen the girl’s wound close before his very eyes. But how did she save him? No herb or potion could reverse the deadly effects of the poison coursing within his bloodstream.

  In a desperate move, Jalut swallowed everything in his possession without mixing or preparation, hoping it would buy him enough time. He continued to run in the same direction as his horse, determined to make sure they wouldn’t ignore him and go straight for their friend.

  Based on their rapid approach, Jalut knew the werewolf was now in its true form. This meant that its body had to consume high amounts of sulfur and other minerals to fuel its muscles and bones. It also meant that it would be much stronger and faster than before, and its senses heightened tenfold. And this creature was no ordinary werewolf. It was a pureblood gray, an ancient, and rare breed.

  But while transformation granted immense power, it also brought out primal instincts and aggression in the werewolf. Jalut couldn’t help but wonder why this beast hadn’t killed the girl yet. Did they share some kind of bond? Or had she somehow tamed it?

  Who is this bitch?!

  As he dodged the first attack from the werewolf, Jalut drew out his knuckle-fist blades to prepare for a fight. He surveyed the surroundings for any sign of the red-caped girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. That meant she must have run off to save the bard, making her a greater threat than this towering monster confronting him.

  Fuck.

  He cast his eyes upon the majestic creature in front of him, an awe-inspiring sight he had never witnessed before. At least, not this breed.

  Standing at least three meters tall, its muscular body was covered in sleek silver fur, and its growls resonated like a rumble of thunder through the forest, silencing all other sounds.

  Jalut couldn’t help but feel a momentary pause of admiration before snapping back to reality.

  “Great seeing you!” he shouted, hiding his trembling voice as the herbs kicked in.

  “I presume you came for a rematch? Do you think you can kill me?”

  He made a calculated step to the side, keeping a watchful eye on the werewolf’s movements. With each step he took, Jalut’s unease grew. This werewolf should have been in a state of frenzied bloodlust, yet it stood before him, its gaze fixed on him with unsettling focus. It was like nothing he had ever encountered before.

  Fuck! What is this?

  As he cautiously circled the creature, Jalut noticed something else. Something that made his blood run cold.

  It wasn’t just calm; it was calculating. A level of intelligence rarely seen in transformed werewolves. The beast’s eyes were locked onto his own, with an eerie sense of familiarity and understanding.

  How is this possible?!

  This creature should be consumed by mindless rage and hunger, not studying him like a prey. Jalut’s heart pounded with adrenaline as he took another step to the side. He knew any mistake could lead to his death. The drugs running through his veins were giving him strength and focus, but it was not enough.

  Dave was also mindful of the danger. Facing skilled hunters before, he was conscious of the threat they posed, particularly when trapped. And this one already defeated him once. With fierce determination, he took his time while growling menacingly and staring down Jalut. Amplified by an odor of sweat and the twitching muscles in his face, he could sense the fear emanating from the hunter.

  With each passing second, Jalut felt his chances of survival slipping away. If that bitch catches up and saves the bard, the consequences will be dire. Because to disappoint the Bad Wolf leads to worse things than death.

  In a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation, Jalut charged at Dave, despite knowing it was a foolish move.

  He knew nothing was waiting for him in the afterlife except oblivion, where he would never see or hear from his loved ones again. But that didn’t matter. The only priority was to kill the beast, secure the target, and escape from the girl.

  But Dave dodged his attack with ease and gripped him by the neck. Before Jalut could react, his chest was ripped open by the beast’s powerful claws, like tearing apart pages from a book.

  As life drained from him, Jalut found solace in knowing he died fighting a worthy opponent. He yearned briefly for a reunion with those taken too soon. But as he drew his last breaths, reality set in. There were no second chances or happy endings in this world.

  Dave tossed aside Jalut’s lifeless body like a mere toy, feeling disappointment wash over him. This hunter had dared to threaten Red, yet defeating him felt hollow and unsatisfying. Although she couldn’t be killed, Dave refused to let anyone harm his Red.

  Letting out a desperate howl, he raced in her trail with renewed determination. Thoughts about her were consuming him.

  What had she done to him? He used to revel in the fear and power he could instill in others with just a mere bite or growl. But now, killing bandits and thugs felt like a mundane task, and his desire to protect Red overshadowed any thirst for dominance. She had changed him in ways he never thought possible. And as he chased after her, he couldn’t help but wonder, what kind of future did he truly want for her?