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Author: Mia E Rivers
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56
Becca

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Jason says again.

“Do you have any idea how to get back to the track or the cliff?” I ask. My voice is breaking with a cry, bringing on the human girl mad at her boyfriend. I twirl, gesturing with my hands around us.

“Ummm…”

“It’s only trees everywhere. The same fucking trees,” I yell again and put in another wallowing cry.

“I think that way,” Jason points in a seemingly random direction, but I know it would take us back to the parking lot.

“Good,” and without another word, I continue that way, with Jason catching up to me and apologizing again on the way.

We drink and eat on the way, stating loudly how hungry we are and how much better the picnic on the top was yesterday.

I’m confident in our act, as we stop 30 minutes later to have the same ‘we are lost’ discussion accompanied by my next crying session. Jason plays his part well, cuddling me and acting convinced that he’ll get the right direction this time. We head for the track that takes us to the
Mia E Rivers

What do you think about the Hunters? Can Becca and Jason finally relax?

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Natalie Blaszczuk
I’m so loving this story. When is a new update coming?
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  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   29 Feelings

    Becca When Jason requested separate rooms at the Inn yesterday evening, I had difficulty covering the hurt on my face. Judging by the receptionist’s expression, I failed completely. At least my room for the night was warm and cozy, with hot water in the shower. It had everything a girl would need, right? Well, the only missing piece was a man to curl around me… And not just any man. Sleeping without Jason’s arm tucked at my waist left me tossing and turning all night. I swear the rhythm of his heartbeat has been engraved in my soul, and now I need it to stay sane. His scent still lingers on some of my clothes, although I refused to bring any of them into bed with me. As the morning sun peeks through the curtains, I stare at the ceiling, listening for any sounds coming from his room. He must still be sleeping. Without the worry lines on his forehead or the tension in his shoulders. Calm and relaxed. And probably naked. Is his morning excitement matching mine? A breathy sigh leaves m

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   01 Is he?

    Becca We can’t be the only survivors.My boots pound down the long corridor, and I can only repeat it in my head. We can't be the only survivors.I run past the band posters on the walls, and doors on the left every so often, excitement bubbling up in me. My lips twitch into a smile but I smother it. I still can be wrong about this. This stadium is like most others, so it’s easy to find my way around, even though this is my first time here with my sound crew and a band I met two months ago. I’m in a city I’ve never been to before, and I run towards someone I don’t know, someone who claims to have found my lost cardigan at a Diner. The few hundred meters between the mixing console where I work to the back door where he is waiting are decreasing at a steady pace. I know I didn’t leave any cardigan anywhere because I don’t own any. I only wear hoodies or leather jackets. The person claiming to have my cardigan knows it’s a lie. I know it’s a lie too, but still, I’m running to me

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   02 He is

    Becca I’m giddy with excitement all through rehearsal. I’ve met another werewolf. I can’t believe it. Every five minutes, my hand flies to my back pocket to take out my phone and text him, but I resist the temptation. I need to focus and finish with each band member as quickly as possible. Scott, the lead, has been a pain in my ass since day one. At first, he said I couldn’t be his sound engineer because men have better hearing, and he knows I will fuck up his tour. His manager convinced him to ‘give me one night so that I can prove myself’. Like I need to prove anything to anyone, I’ve been working on concerts for six years, and my reputation succeeds me. I have a team of the best technicians, and there has never been a complaint on any of the shows I did. Thanks to my werewolf hearing, I can detect any problem before anybody else hears it; I can easily balance all the speakers from my stage and distinguish each instrument regardless of the arena's size. I can choose which tour I

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   03 Are we?

    Becca The show is about to end, and I reach for my phone to text Jason Juice. I gotta stop calling him that. Why does he hate his name? I offered him tickets or even to get backstage, but he politely said he wasn’t into rock music and he was actually going to a club to see a DJ’s show. I pouted my lips at that, but we agreed to meet after I packed up things here. We had a great time chatting through dinner, and I got used to his cocky sway of talking, his shining earpiece and the way he checked his phone quite often. I get back to the hotel to drop off my work stuff and get my Eastpak springer to carry my phone, wallet, and key. I can easily swing it through my head in wolf form to keep it around my neck. When he doesn’t reply, I look up the DJ and take an Uber to get me to the club. The enormity of my mistake washes over me the moment I exit the car. I turn to get back and leave, but as the street is flooded with people leaving the club, someone takes the car right away. I tenta

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   04 Us wolves

    Becca My heartbeat pounds in my ears like a drum as I turn away. Shaky breaths leave Bliss’ jaw as she sits back on her hind legs. Is Jason as excited as I am? Is he trembling like a leaf as I am? Anticipation is killing me as I wait for him to shift. The moon is so bright tonight that my eyes burn after staring at it for too long, leaving a crescent shape in my vision when I close my eyes. Finally, a snout nudges my side, and I brace my muscles to keep me straight as I turn. Makya's dark blue eyes shine like crystals in the dark, and his fur is onyx-black, barely reflecting the moonlight. ‘Bliss?’ I ask, admiring how magnificent he is. His chest puffed out, his ears listening intently; he is a predator. Even without moving an inch, I can see how his muscles are built to hunt, to run, to fight. Bliss steps closer, scenting him. His scent of pine tree and rosehip. ‘Not mates,’ she sighs sadly. ‘He is so gorgeous, though.’ I exhale a sigh of relief. I won’t be rejected tonight.

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   05 A pack

    Becca Completely exhausted, I fell asleep during the drive to Jason’s home, even with the warming morning sun burning through the window. “Becca,” he nudges my shoulder carefully, and when my head falls to the side, he catches it with his hand. Warmth spreads as he caresses under my eye with his thumb. “Becca?” he asks again. My eyes open slower than I’d like, and my moves are sleepy as I wake. “Hey,” sea-blue eyes greet me, and I swear the white freckles shine like diamonds. “Hey,” I croak and blink before I do something reckless and reach out to pull him closer. He lays back in his chair, dropping his hand from my face, when I lift my head. I yawn, looking around, dazed. Numbness paralyzes my right arm because I kept it at the wrong angle during my nap. Willing the sleepiness away, I scrape my eyes. I sigh nervously as I get out of the car and approach their home. It is the last house on the street, with a forest behind their backyard and crop fields on the side. I stand next

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   06 Back to work

    Becca “Smoke is coming from the stage,” a frightened voice bellows in my earpiece, and I immediately reach for the end of the console to turn it off. “Shut down everything,” I reply, jumping from my small stage to run towards the stage. “Get everyone off the stage. The main distributor is next to entrance B2,” I instruct my team and look towards that on the way. Two of my assistants rush to the door to find the main fuse and switch off the electricity in the whole arena. Someone shrieks as the arena darkens. The exit signs are the only lights, and we all turn on the flashlight on our phones to navigate in the dark. I can already smell the scent of overheated equipment and mutter a curse, hoping it won’t burst into flames. “Everyone, find an exit and leave,” I yell, my voice echoing through the empty walls. If an amplifier or a speaker catches on fire, it can start a chain of reaction, and the sound system can be damaged or burned down in a matter of minutes. I pick up my speed. N

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   07 Jason

    Jason The ground slips away beneath me as I jump over a stream. My leap is high and swift. Makya is stronger than he has ever been. My paws sink into the moist ground as I land on the other side of the stream, but I waste no time in pushing forward. The night is warm without any breeze. Fall can’t come soon enough to fill nature with fresh water. Makya has changed a lot ever since meeting Becca. His anger wormed into agitation and determination. We still shift and run each day, though not to burn off the anger but to build strength and agility. ‘We need to protect our mate,’ Makya explains to me, just like he does every day. ‘What mate?’ I ask. He confirmed that Becca isn’t our destined mate, so his reasoning confuses me. ‘We know there are other survivors. We will have a mate. Now focus,’ he orders as he stops. Soil and grass fill the space between the toes on Makya's paws as we slide to a stop. ‘What can you smell?’ he asks, and I inhale. As it turns out, we train not only our

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  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   29 Feelings

    Becca When Jason requested separate rooms at the Inn yesterday evening, I had difficulty covering the hurt on my face. Judging by the receptionist’s expression, I failed completely. At least my room for the night was warm and cozy, with hot water in the shower. It had everything a girl would need, right? Well, the only missing piece was a man to curl around me… And not just any man. Sleeping without Jason’s arm tucked at my waist left me tossing and turning all night. I swear the rhythm of his heartbeat has been engraved in my soul, and now I need it to stay sane. His scent still lingers on some of my clothes, although I refused to bring any of them into bed with me. As the morning sun peeks through the curtains, I stare at the ceiling, listening for any sounds coming from his room. He must still be sleeping. Without the worry lines on his forehead or the tension in his shoulders. Calm and relaxed. And probably naked. Is his morning excitement matching mine? A breathy sigh leaves m

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   28 success

    Becca “I’m sorry, Baby,” Jason says again. “Do you have any idea how to get back to the track or the cliff?” I ask. My voice is breaking with a cry, bringing on the human girl mad at her boyfriend. I twirl, gesturing with my hands around us. “Ummm…” “It’s only trees everywhere. The same fucking trees,” I yell again and put in another wallowing cry. “I think that way,” Jason points in a seemingly random direction, but I know it would take us back to the parking lot. “Good,” and without another word, I continue that way, with Jason catching up to me and apologizing again on the way. We drink and eat on the way, stating loudly how hungry we are and how much better the picnic on the top was yesterday. I’m confident in our act, as we stop 30 minutes later to have the same ‘we are lost’ discussion accompanied by my next crying session. Jason plays his part well, cuddling me and acting convinced that he’ll get the right direction this time. We head for the track that takes us to the

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   27 The clue

    JasonIt took us more than an hour to find a way to climb up behind the rocks. Once we got there, there was nothing to grab or hold on to. Despite our wolf vision, we couldn’t see anything but the moon-illuminated wolf craving. We climbed separately to search through everything, and finally, Becca located a tiny, rolled-up paper wedged between two rocks.If you’re looking for usMake sure to use your sensesFollow the direction of the MoonTo where the Goddess has her Temple“What do you think it means?” Becca looks up at me, her intelligent eyes narrowed in focus. Wrinkles appear under them, but not on the outer lines like smile wrinkles. Instead, they are in the middle around her nose, only showing up when she is focused or determined to fix or solve something. And for a moment, I stare at her, realizing how addicted I have become to reading her expressions.Each time her eyes twinkle with mischief, my heart rate plummets. Each time she talks about her family, they shine like diamon

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   26 the cave

    BeccaMy hands are half healed, but the raw, fresh skin is still too delicate to be used. It needs foaming and bandages for protection.‘If you don’t use it, I’ll heal it in a day,’ Bliss informs me happily.‘We need your strength for the run and the challenge. You can heal me after,’ I reply, and I am glad when she agrees.‘After,’ she says, and joy bubbles in my heart. We are here and ready to face the first challenge.I wear training gloves over the bandages to hide them, hoping they’ll only look at Jason’s hand.We are ready when Elaine gives up her watch and enters the packhouse, but we stand still and wait three more minutes before leaving the bungalow. We settle down to have a quick breakfast in front of the packhouse for the show. It’s better if they see us before we leave. We are up early because we slept through the night like humans. That is what we want them to believe. Lastly, we leave a note for Brock to let him know that we went hiking early and pretend we didn’t see on

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   25 two against two

    BeccaI wake up hours later in the bed, tucked close to Jason, with my hands resting covered in the healing foam. He must’ve carried me to bed, as I’m still fully dressed. I look back at him, and his droopy eyes blink.“Hey,” he croaks.“Thanks.” I turn to my back, keeping my hands over the covers. His arm slips back from my waist, and I instantly regret the move.“Of course,” he replies with a slow smile.“You can sleep. I’m fine and can take over the watch.” I whisper, glancing from the ceiling back to him.“Are you sure?” Jason lifts his head, assessing me.“Yeah. You need to sleep, too. I’ll wake you so we can leave at sunrise.”He slowly nods and turns on his front, his hand under his pillow. Within a few minutes, his light snores tell me he is fast asleep. No surprise there. He didn’t sleep yesterday.No matter where I look, I can’t tell the time. I sigh, cursing myself. I should’ve asked Jason. And for my phone, too. The idea of getting out of bed flies out of my head as quickl

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   24 Burn

    Becca Yesterday, we used our own utensils and ate our own food to avoid the situation we are currently in. To avoid anything they could use against us. I cannot phantom how we missed it today. But I guess we were both too tired and too focused on watching their moves; we didn’t see the hidden intention behind the dinner. The embarrassment of my stupidness colors my cheeks and makes my heart race. How will we get out of this situation? Ideas are popping up in my head, but I have to ditch all of them ‘cause they might make things even worse. The hopelessness of the situation freezes me. I keep my gaze and shoulders steady as I cut the meat and bring the first bite to my mouth. Carefully, though, not to let the fork touch my lips. I let out a moan of delight, complimenting the food, as I focus on steadying my voice. Jason follows my lead, and we quicken our eating. The sensitive skin on my left palm and finger bends is where it is the most painful, becoming a burn I can hardly take.

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   23 Two hunters

    BeccaWe settle down at the table in the little clearing between the houses, slumping down to keep up the act of weak humans.After dropping my backpack on the ground, I take off my hiking boots, realizing happily that blood is on my socks again.“How are you two, Love Birds?” Brock asks, exiting the packhouse.I sigh heavily, showing how tired I am. “The cliff you sent us to was far harder to reach than you explained,” I reply accusingly.His laughter roars through the forest, scaring the birds away.I open my mouth in mock exaggeration. “You knew, and you sent us anyway?” I continue, and he continues with his laughter. I fold my arms over my chest, furrow my brows, and pout. “That wasn’t very nice of you. My toes are bleeding again.” I lift my leg to show him the bloodied sock.Brock comes closer. “You’ll live,” he shrugs, settling beside me. “Besides, I made dinner. That has to conciliate you.”I look over at the campfire and see that he is roasting something. It looks like the ham

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   22 Off the track

    BeccaWith my phone in my hand, I’m trying to balance on one tiptoe as I aim to capture a bird. It is perched high on a tree, obscured from my sight by several branches. Given that this is the third time we have left the track to take a picture, I’m determined to capture it this time.I’m not a photographer, though; I only use my phone, and I never thought how difficult it would be to photograph a bird. They usually fly away before I can take a proper picture of them.Just as when I click, Jason steps closer behind me, whispering. “I haven’t smelled Brock since we started on the track.”We climbed to the cliff and took pictures to prove we were there. As we descended, we sniffed around to find Brock, but he probably didn’t follow us there.I sigh exasperatedly as I check my phone, realizing I only caught the bird’s tail. A branch covers the rest. “Couldn’t you have waited another second for that? I almost got the picture.” I turn my phone to Jason angrily to show him my last failed a

  • Journey to the last Werewolf Pack   21 Trophies

    Becca I shiver as I step through the door of the packhouse. Looking around on alert, I mentally scold myself for thinking about it as a packhouse. I have to make sure not to call it that in front of Brock. The inside looks reasonably clean and renovated. It is a two-story building, not much bigger than the other houses, but the difference is still significant. The polished wood creaks under my hiking boots as I wipe my sweaty palms on my loose t-shirt nervously. Brock proudly shows us around and points out the most important trophies on the wall, telling stories of how he caught and killed each. He likes to hunt; we get it. He has the entire living room to demonstrate it. Let’s hope only for animals and not the supernatural. ‘That ship has sailed,’ Bliss confirms, and I have to agree. He proved us right with that phone call. Not to mention how he sneaked into the house to go through our backpacks. Just the thought gives me shivers. ‘We are lucky to have Jason on our side,’ I tell

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