“Last one,” a deep snarling voice calls from somewhere in the distance. Groaning, I try to lift my head and find it takes every ounce of strength I have. My head pounds to its own, and I lift it where my chin is pressed to my chest. My ankle is still throbbing, and my eyes flutter open, and go to wipe them, only to find my hands restrained.
I blink rapidly, yanking on my binds in panic while looking out the huge doors to where Lycan and werewolves are coming in my direction. The ropes are extremely tight, and it is tied to the bench seat I am sitting on. I glance around, taking in my surroundings, my vision still a little blurry, when I realize I am in the back of a cattle truck.
Looking up, the moon is high in the sky peering back at me, almost as if it is taunting me.
Hearing a scuffle, I peer around once more, when yelling and screaming makes me turn my head to see a girl whose name I do not know get tossed heavily into the back of the truck. Her body makes a loud thud as she lands on her stomach, her head bouncing on the wooden floor between my feet. A whimper far at the back of the truck makes me turn my head to see three men huddled in the corner like scared rabbits. I recognize their faces, yet I also do not know their names.
“That's the last one!” A man yells out to the driver as he grabs the handhold and steps into the back. The girl, whose name I do not know, scrambles for the back of the truck, where the three young men are huddled.
The man who tossed her takes a seat across from me after shutting the back of the truck and caging us in. It stinks heavily of blood, sweat, and what smelt heavily of cow crap. I stare at the wooden grated walls ahead. My thoughts drifting to my grandmother and how I couldn't save her. Everything in me is screaming out for her, yet I do not cry, I do not plead for my life or fight against the situation because I no tears won’t bring her back, I know fighting is pointless, and my pleas will go unheard.
My mind keeps going back to the strange smile she gave me, I know it will forever haunt me. Her parting words are permanently seared into my head. “They found you, but they'll regret it.” She had chuckled before she turned and ran for the ledge, her body careening over the side. It is almost as if she knew her fate was sealed and took life back into her own hands.
The truck's engine rumbles to life, loud in the dead of night. Yet it didn't drown out the whimpers at the back of the truck coming from faces I knew but people I didn't.
grew up in these mountains, grew up in the sprawling fields of wildflowers, the rocky terrain of the mountains was my training ground, and flowing rivers were my escape. Out here, we were far from the four Lycan kingdoms. Yet all the that training is for nothing now that I am being hauled away
or free of the King's rule. And that becomes abundantly clear when what was left of us was loaded into trucks only moments ago. I stare idly head, my hands tied behind my back. The bumping road jostles me as it navigates the off-road track. I
that lived in peace for so long. Now I realize my grandmother was right. She tried to warn everyone for years that our place of sanctuary would be one day found. They wouldn't listen. Even I was skeptical
many coming and going like we were untouchable. She warned the elders that someday one of those they let leave would be caught and give up our location.
the original design. I may have never left the caves, but I know some things from granny or from the books she would find when off searching for supplies. I
My eyes move to the man sitting across from me. Only he isn't a man at all.
only five of us remain. The others must have been considered too old and killed instantly. Turning my head, I peer at the three
numb. Maybe I am in shock. I don't know. All
realized I am once again staring into
deep, and he moves in his makeshift seat across from me, his
him, shocked at how my emotionless my own words are, I turn my
were ever my friends. Even in the caves and tunnels, they always kept their distance; I couldn't
always kept me from getting too close to anyone else. She said those that lived amongst us. Their names were never of importance. Now I understand why. None of us
fingers. “What makes you say that?” I ask, curious. They never gave me any reason to believe they hated me, yet they never gave me any