Chapter Three (Isla)

Finding a place to rest was difficult, but finally I came across an abandoned warehouse. I pulled my truck inside, got out, and closed the door. A few hours of sleep and I would be good to go.

Using my duffle bag as a pillow, I curled up on the seat and willed myself to get some much needed rest. The Goddess must’ve been on my side because sleep came too quickly.

I was standing in a field covered in blood, bodies lay everywhere, wolves had been beheaded and their corpses scattered the grass surrounding an enormous castle. Scorch marks marred the ground where immortals had been reduced to ash.

I looked around the scene, not recognizing anything. What had happened? I walked towards a body that lay on the ground. The man that had been hunting me lay there unconscious and bleeding, but alive. Against my better instinct, I kneeled down and assessed his injuries. His leg was broken, and he had a nasty gash on his side. I looked around me for things I could use to help him. Finding some torn clothes and a sword, I set his leg and used the clothes to tie it to the sword to keep it straight, then use the remaining clothes to hold pressure on his wound.

His eyes shot open, “You?” he paused and studied my face, reaching up to touch my cheek. “Why did you come here? I told you to run.”

I stared back at him as fog filled my vision and I was back in my parents' cabin. My mom and dad had made dinner, and we were sitting around the table joking and laughing like we usually do. Then I blinked and my parents' headless bodies sat in their chairs, their heads sat on the table facing me.

My eyes shot open as my stomach lurched. Opening my truck door, I gagged and emptied my stomach on the warehouse floor. What kind of fucken dream was that? I sobbed to myself as the images ran through my head.

I slapped my face, focus Isla, it was a dream you need to plan what to do next. I avoided and escaped from my parents' killers for three weeks.

Three weeks of hell. They had pursued me mercilessly, trying to finish what they had started. I played it over and over in my head and I still couldn’t figure it out. How did they find us? We had been so careful not to draw attention, using cloaking magic and staying in low population communities and still they found us. For the past few weeks, I had been running from them, hiding wherever possible, fighting only when it was necessary.

My parents moved to this side of the globe because there were fewer wolves, and the packs were not as strong, so why travel so far from home? Was their crime worth their time and money hunting my parents down just to kill them? Who am I kidding? Of course, they thought it was.

I started my truck as my stomach grumbled and headed down the street after the warehouse. There was a small bar, deciding it was as good a place as any. I pulled in grabbed my duffle bag as I placed an illusion over myself. Unfortunately, the only magic I can control and headed inside.

Sitting at the bar, I placed my bag by my feet and ordered a burger, fries and a whiskey. I decided I could chill here for a bit. The smell of the place should help cover my scent from my pursuers, at least for a little while. The only patrons were drunk out of their minds and most likely regulars, which makes it easier to disguise myself. I hope to the Goddess that they don't find me again. I signalled to the bartender to pour me another whiskey.

I sighed, looking down at my ripped stolen clothes, my others had been ruined and the cuts and scratches that marred my body. The bandages were an eyesore. It was pitiful. My sword still was slung across my back. I was carrying every weapon possible, as well as survival gear. Throwing knives strapped to my right thigh, axes, bow, arrows, climbing gear and a first aid kit. I even had a collapsible spear all stored in a duffel bag at my feet.

The bartender brought me my food, and I demolished it, washing it down with another whiskey.

Luckily, my father was always over prepared hiding survival kits as he called them all over the property. He and my mother had put me through gruelling training since I was little. I trained with different weapons and martial arts as well. They wanted me to be able to protect myself in case something happened to them. I missed them so much, they would know what to do. I can’t keep running forever after all.

I have little to no control over my magic, but I can manage illusions to alter reality. What the bartender saw was a woman having a meal and a drink. He did not see the injuries or the weapons. I also changed my appearance instead of my long black hair, bright green eyes, and elvish features. They’d see a tall woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, with a round, pinched face.

I was the most hated creature on earth. I was forbidden and considered an abomination because of what I am.

I am a hybrid, and I hated it. What the hell did I do? I hurt no one unless they forced me to. All I want is a sense of normal, no running or having to look over my shoulder or having to mask my appearance just to walk out in the open. I slammed the whiskey glass down on the bar and signalled for another, downing it. I shouldn’t have to live this way.

This isn't the first time I've been in a sticky situation. A few years ago, some humans got a hold of me convinced I was crazy. Not a good time, but thanks to my parents, I made a quick escape.

I tensed as four big men entered the bar. All attractive and couldn’t be over twenty-one years old. The man from the cabin was among them. The sight of him caused my heart to race. They scanned the crowd. Subtly sniffing the air, even if I had never met them before, I could tell by their mannerisms that they are wolves.

My wolf was hidden from me. She didn’t talk to or communicate with me, and I couldn’t turn. Aware of their presence, I ordered another drink, trying to blend in with the crowd.

Three of them approached the bar, ordering drinks and asking the bartender if he’d seen a girl with long black hair and green eyes come through. The man from the cabin stayed by the door. The bartender shook his head as he poured their drinks. I’ve got to get out of here before my magic slips.

Acting natural I picked up my duffel bag, paid and went to leave the bar.

The man from the cabin was handsome with intense blue-grey eyes, a big muscular body, and mouth-watering arms. I remember how he had leaned over me, instead of fear I craved to be near him. Mental shake "quit ogling the enemy. He was there when that fiend murdered your parents." I scolded myself.

He grabbed me by the shoulder when I tried to exit the building, eyeing my body intently. Sending electric shocks through me.

Forcing my mixed emotions down as deep as I could, I looked up at him, “can I help you?” I asked, praying my illusion would stay in place. Hoping he’d release me.

“Sorry lass.” He said in a deep Scottish brogue. Confusion in his eyes. The accent reminded me of my dad. He was from Scotland as well. Shaking my head, I shrugged out of his grasp and headed out the door.

He turned to follow me but stopped when another of his group, a man with red hair, called to him, "Anders, go to the back of the bar and look for her." Which, of course, was me.

With one last glance, he shrugged. "Yeah, on it. " He replied as he headed to the back of the bar.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I ran. It wouldn't take long for them to pick my scent out of the others in the bar.

I ran as fast as possible to my truck. If I was caught, it’d most likely mean death. I wouldn’t be immortal until I turned twenty-one, so I needed to stay ahead of my pursuers, at least until my birthday.

My parents believed that once I came of age, I’d have better control of my powers and would be able to talk to and change into my wolf. I remembered how shocked I was to see the wolves in the first place. Usually, they never travelled, preferring to remain on the ground. If they were Scottish, then they’d have taken a plane which was out of character for them. The only reason my dad managed it was because he was trying to protect his mate.

As I got into my truck, I thought back to the night my parents were murdered. The ease with which the wolves had decapitated my parents’. Their vacant, dead stares haunted me, causing the pain of their loss to come back in waves. They were the ones with the plans and my mother with her magic and cloaking spells. What did I have? A measly bag of weapons, a wolf I couldn’t communicate with or shift into, and magic powers I could not control or use half the time. Without them, I’m doomed. It’s only a matter of time.

Looking in the rear-view mirror, it brought me back to the present. I brushed the tears I hadn’t realized had fallen from my face. As the men ran out of the bar, heading in my direction. In a rush, I put my truck in gear and sped away. I took random roads and continued going North, careful to keep an eye out for headlights, hoping that again they had lost my trail. I had the advantage; they weren’t from here and not familiar with the routes not shown on the maps.

My mind drifted back to those blue-grey eyes. Since that night, I had two recurring dreams when I was able to sleep. One nightmare of my parents' death, the other was of the man's eyes. I gave myself a mental shake. “He helped kill your parents. Hell, he wants to kill you.” I scolded myself. “He’s the enemy.”

I was convinced that there were two different packs after me. I had run into a large pack of wolves a few days back, and my pursuers, who had caught up to me, were not pleased. Instead of working together, they were fighting each other, which thankfully gave me the chance to get away. Not my problem if they can’t get along.

Not seeing headlights behind me, I sighed, slowing to the speed limit. I took deep breaths to settle my heart rate back down, so it was no longer thundering in my ears. My senses were constantly on high alert, which was quite draining.

Even on the run, one had to appreciate the beauty of this area: mountains, forests, rivers for miles, with small towns popping up in the dense wilderness every few hours. It was a paradise and yet, I couldn't enjoy it. I loved to run and hike, exploring the world around me. It wasn’t possible now.

Out of nowhere, a man ran out into the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, my tires squealing, when my truck came to a stop, I rolled down my window. “Are you crazy?” I screamed, “I could’ve killed you!” as he continued running into the trees that lined the road. I wasn’t dumb enough to leave my truck. It could be a trap. "If he could run away, he’s fine." I reassured myself.

I slowed but continued down the road. Not even a minute later, a huge silver wolf stepped onto the road in front of me.

“Okay then,” I muttered as I stopped and put my truck in reverse, backing up, only for more wolves to emerge from the trees and surrounding my truck. It was a trap; I hissed. They grossly outnumbered me. What to do?

I put my truck in drive and hit the gas, but the huge silver coloured wolf ran towards me and batted my truck into an enormous tree like it was a ball. My truck smashed into the tree, the driver’s door taking the brunt of the impact as my truck wrapped around the trunk. My leg shooting with pain. I looked down and saw it was injured, a piece of the dashboard stuck out of it, I pulled it out lucky I could still move it; I slid across the seat to the passenger side, going to open the door. The silver wolf jumped onto the roof of my truck, ripping it off like aluminum foil. I looked up at the snarling beast with his teeth bared menacingly.

Grabbing my nearest weapon, I hissed as I jumped from the truck, narrowly avoiding his claws. I pulled the sword from its sheath, squared my shoulders, and faced the large silver wolf. I was sure he was the leader. There was a small brown wolf on his left side and a large black wolf missing one eye was on the other. The silver wolf was the largest one I could see in this group, which to me made him the boss. I paused. I hope that’s how it works.

They growled and bared their teeth at me. Should’ve grabbed my lance or axes. Or better yet, my bow at least I could shoot from a distance. A sword isn’t the best option against a wolf. If he got too close, it’d be useless.

Glancing back at my truck, I gauged the distance. I planned to make a run for my other weapons. "I could make it," I thought, amping myself up. “Come on, adrenaline.” Backing up as far as possible, I turned and jumped, dropping into the back of my truck, and grabbing my duffel bag, ripping it open. I dropped the sword and grabbed my bow and arrows.

Standing up, I fired multiple arrows, taking out the big guy’s minions. The group was closing in on me. If I couldn’t set them on fire or behead them, then this would only slow them down. I continued firing arrows until I was out. Grabbing my throwing knives, I threw it at the silver wolf, hitting him in the leg. I grabbed another, but the silver wolf was too fast, and he jumped on me, pinning me to the ground. I cursed, trying to move his large body off mine. It was no use. He weighed a ton. The man from earlier ran out of the forest and stuck a syringe in my neck. I didn’t have time to react as everything went black.