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Wolves and Men
Book 2 Chapter 6f

Book 2 Chapter 6f

He flexed his muscles and felt the added rush of adrenaline flood his system. His other was awake and ready. William had full control of his body and the added support of his other was like nothing he had ever felt before. He could win this fight. He saw Ares lying beaten and broken in front of him in a pool of his own blood. A low, blood thirsty growl escaped his lips and his eyes narrowed.

Ares looked into William’s eyes. “Is this what you want?”

William hesitated. Yes, I do want this. He felt a wave of euphoria wash over his mind as he admitted this to himself.

William reached up and grasped Ares’ arm with his claw. He kept his eyes locked onto Ares, watching for any change, for anything that would tell him what the larger shape shifter was going to do. His mind was a tempest of controlled fury, but he would not let himself give into those feelings. The taste of blood was thick in his mouth. He could barely smell Ares at all. It was like his teacher had no feelings or emotions about what might happen next. William knew that, even at his most powerful, he could never beat Ares. A ripple flowed across his mind as if in argument to his thoughts.

An image of blood and victory was thrown up in his head. He could see the fight play itself out in his mind as clearly as if it was happening in front of him. He would rip Ares hand from his shoulder. Then throwing himself backwards, he would catch Ares with a double kick to the abdomen. Ares would counter with a double arm hammer blow to his shoulders, but he would roll out of the way and kick Ares’ legs out from under him.

William kept his claw on Ares’ arm, not moving or tensing his arm in any way. He kept his eyes locked on Ares the whole time. He controlled his breathing and watched the rest of the fight play out in his head.

Once Ares was on the ground he would soften him with a few kicks to the sides, driving blood out through his mouth. Once Ares was tired and stunned. He would grab the head and jaws of his teacher. With a snarl he would pry Ares’ mouth open and force the jaw to keep opening. The jaw would snap off and Ares would lie limp and lifeless defeated on the ground in front of him.

Then what?

It was such a small voice in the vast recesses of his own consciousness. His other had no response for the small spark of reason that invaded his delirium of victory and the thrill of battle. There was a shiver in the back of his mind as the waves of euphoria and joy were stopped suddenly. The adrenaline that had been released into his body drained away. He shook his head and blinked away the sudden lightheadedness that he felt. The shudder of his other withdrew and as it did it created a vacuum that left him weak, and his legs suddenly had no strength.

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He was holding on to Ares’ arm for support now.

He looked up at Ares. The werewolf had a look of pure indifference toward him. There was no hate, there was no compassion. His eyes could have been made of pure biotite for all the emotions they showed. He looked at his teacher and pondered his future in the werewolf city.

The thought of him losing all control was not far from his mind. He could fight and maybe kill Ares. No, not Ares but maybe some other pup, or a human born that he caught by surprise. He could kill one or two. Maybe the next time he would kill Amanda. Yes, she would be easy to kill. He knew that once an act like that was done, he would be hunted down and killed, if not by Ares than by the Elders or by some other shape shifter. There would be no safe haven for him. He would be hunted for the rest of his life.

He thought about what it was like to have to run away from something, having to run away from those agents in his valley, having to run away from that helicopter, being carried away from those shadows. The thought of having to look over his shoulder till the day he died was not a future that he relished for himself. Neither was the thought of being captured and getting thrown into some government lab by those agents who had chased him out of his valley to be dissected and studied like the aliens at Roswell. Either of those futures was more terrible than the thought of being treated like a child.

He removed his claw from Ares’ restraining arm and let it fall to his side. His tail wilted as he let go and relaxed. Ares took his hand away from William’s shoulder and turned to walk away.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Ares turned back toward his student. “Do I need to?”

William tried to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come, and his mind was a blank slate. He couldn’t think of anything that Ares could say to make any of this easier.

“What happens now? Do you just wait for me to not be able to control myself and kill me?”

“I have trained over a dozen pups. I’ve lost one.” Ares raised himself to his full eight-foot height and breathed a deep sigh. “What happens now is up to you, William. I can’t help you in this. It’s something that every werewolf must face on his or her own. But should the day come where you are truly lost to us, I will give you a quick, peaceful release from this life.” Ares paused and sniffed the air around them. “Now it’s time to eat.”

He hadn’t expected much more from Ares. The bluntness with which Ares laid out the truth of what was to come was a little disturbing but also a little bit heartening as well. He doesn’t sugar coat it. He admired his teacher for that.