A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 107: A Calculated Diversion
[Kai’s POV]
A wave of relief, warm and heavy, washed over me as Shin’s fight ended with his characteristic, unnerving calm. My men had subdued the other strays without serious injury, their breathing just starting to slow. But the feeling was as fragile as a spiderweb. The sharp snap of a twig, too light and deliberate for a werewolf’s heavy footfall, made my ears twitch forward. I flared my nostrils, filtering out the familiar scents of pine, damp earth, strays, and my own pack.
Humans.
Five figures emerged from the deep shadows of the tree line. Their movements were a blur of unnatural speed, and the dull glint of silver badges on their chests sent a jolt of ice water through my veins. Werewolf hunters.
"HUNTERS! DEFENSIVE POSITIONS!" I barked, the warning torn from my throat, but it was cut short as the hunters scattered with a practiced, lethal precision that spoke of a well-rehearsed ambush.
One of them, a lean man with a face etched into a permanent grimace, closed the distance between us in a heartbeat. He launched himself into the air, a short sword gleaming with cold intent as he aimed for my throat. Instinct, honed by a hundred battles, took over. Before the steel could kiss my fur, I drove my fist deep into his stomach. The air left his lungs in a single, choked gasp, and he crumpled to the forest floor like a discarded puppet, unconscious before he even landed.
[Shin’s POV]
A secondary ambush. How utterly tedious.
A hunter sprinted toward me, his face a twisted mask of pure hatred. He swung a dagger in a wild, emotional arc. I leaned back just enough for the blade to whisper past the fur on my chest, then caught his wrist mid-swing. The bones felt small and brittle in my grip. Using his own reckless momentum, I pivoted and slammed him hard into the packed earth. He groaned once, a shallow, pained sound, and then fell still.
A high-pitched, terrified shriek cut through the air. Mon.
My head snapped toward the wagon. The small monkey lay in a limp, unmoving heap on the wooden boards. A masked figure, dressed in black, non-descript clothing, was already melting back into the dense forest, the unconscious form of the green-haired witch slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
I took a single step to pursue, but a faint, rhythmic sound froze me in my tracks.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It sounded like a clock, but it was coming from the hunter at my feet.
I knelt, pulling up the unconscious man’s tunic. I saw no external device, but the faint, acrid scent of gunpowder was unmistakable. It was coming from inside him.
"EVERYONE, THROW THE HUNTERS INTO THE SKY! NOW! WITH ALL YOUR STRENGTH!" Kai’s roar echoed through the clearing, his own realization dawning a heartbeat after mine.
Implanted explosives. A final, spiteful measure to leave no witnesses.
I grabbed the hunter at my feet and, with a powerful heave born of cold fury, launched his body high into the air above the canopy. Kai’s men did the same with the other unconscious hunters. For a moment, their forms were dark silhouettes against the fading blue sky.
Then, they exploded.
The concussive blasts ripped through the air, a series of thunderous roars that shook the trees to their roots. A wave of heat and force washed over us, but the distance saved us from the deadly rain of shrapnel. The horses screamed and reared in blind panic, straining against their tethers.
When the smoke cleared, the air smelled of burnt meat and cordite. There was no sign of the masked man or the witch.
Damn it! They’ve escaped.
[Kai’s POV]
I kicked a large stone, sending it skittering into the bushes with a satisfying thud. The strays, the werewolf hunters... they were all just pawns. A costly, clever diversion. I looked at my men. Their faces were smudged with dirt and soot, their shoulders slumped not from fatigue, but from the bitter, metallic taste of being outmaneuvered. A sharp stab of guilt pierced my chest. A part of me had sensed the layered trap, and I’d led them right into it.
"Everyone!" My voice cut through the grim silence, sharper than I intended. I forced it to soften. "Secure the unconscious strays! Load them onto the wagon and chain them with the magic restraint! Now!"
"Yes, sir!" they chorused, their voices finding a sliver of strength in the familiar routine. Shin, of course, remained silent, already moving toward the wagon with the rust-red stray he’d defeated slung effortlessly over his shoulder.
I hauled the blue-furred stray I’d fought and tossed him unceremoniously next to the still-sleeping prisoners, securing him with a magic chain. Shin was already there, his fingers pressed gently against Mon’s small neck. The monkey stirred with a weak, questioning chirp. Shin let out a breath so slight it was almost imperceptible, but I saw the minute relaxation in his shoulders. It was the closest he ever came to showing relief.
We all shifted back to our human forms, the air suddenly feeling colder against our skin. I clenched my fists, my knuckles white, then forced them to relax. I looked at each of my men, meeting their tired eyes.
"I know you’re frustrated," I began, my voice firm but carrying the weight of my own shared frustration. "They took the green-haired witch. She was a key to understanding those black magic restraints. But remember this: we still have all the other bandits. We have witnesses. More importantly, every single one of you is standing here, safe and unharmed." I took a deep breath, letting a genuine, proud smile spread across my face. "You fought well. GOOD JOB, EVERYONE!"
The effect was immediate. Their postures straightened. The defeated looks were replaced by determined nods and cheer. The spirit I feared was broken had only been bent.
My men climbed onto the driver’s seat of each wagon, and I climbed into the center of the one where Shin and Mon was, the wood feeling solid beneath me. "Everyone, we continue our mission to Shadow Ridge!" I called out. The men moved with renewed purpose, getting the wagons rolling again.
Mon had fully woken up, chittering weakly and clutching Shin’s sleeve. "Mon, you did a good job protecting the prisoners," I said, reaching down to pat his head gently.
"Uhh uhh ahh ahh!" he chittered happily, bouncing slightly on Shin’s shoulder.
"Are you certain about this course of action?" Shin asked, his tone neutral as he settled beside me. "The green-haired witch is a significant loss."
I met his gaze and nodded, my own resolve hardening. "Yes. If we chase that man now, we run out of time. The prisoners will wake up, and it was likely another trap. We stick to the primary objective. We deliver these criminals to Shadow Ridge Prison."
For a brief moment, I thought I saw something akin to approval in his eyes. "Now you are truly acting like a lieutenant," he stated.
A spark of pride, warm and defiant, flared in my chest, pushing back the chill of failure. Earning a shred of approval from him was like getting a compliment from a stone wall.
"So, does this mean you’ll start calling me ’Lieutenant’?" I asked with a hopeful grin. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
"Do not get your hopes up," he replied flatly, turning to face the road ahead.
"You’re such a killjoy," I whispered, knowing his sharp ears would catch it. He offered no retort. My mind returned to the hunters, to the terrible tick-tock sound. "Those people... turning themselves into walking bombs. What kind of hatred makes that seem like a solution?"
"It is no longer surprising," Shin said, looking at his own hands as if seeing the ghosts of conflicts past. "They will do anything for revenge. Peace? There has never been true peace between humans and werewolves. The bridal sacrifices did not bring peace; they merely reduced the casualties. A temporary, bloody truce built on a foundation of fear."
"You’re right," I conceded, the weight of his words settling on me like a heavy cloak. I looked up at the sky, now clearing of smoke. Ovelia, Ace, everyone... I hope you are all safe. A sudden, nagging thought struck me, an administrative oversight in the midst of the chaos. Wait. I think I forgot to tell Chief Gareth something important.
---
Meanwhile, at Thunoa Village (North Storage House)
[Khaleed’s POV]
Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a dull, persistent ache that had sharpened into a stabbing pain hours ago. The cold, heavy iron chains binding my wrists and ankles had rubbed the skin raw, leaving angry, red rings that burned with every small, futile shift of my body. Each clink of the links against the wooden floor was a mocking reminder of my captivity. I tried to push myself up, using my elbows for leverage, but the short length of chain between my ankles made my feet slip on the dusty floorboards, sending me crashing back down onto the hard wood with a jarring thud. A muffled scream of frustration was trapped behind the tape gagging my mouth, dying as a pathetic whimper in my throat.
Is Chief Gareth ever coming back? Did he forget about me? Did those damned werewolves even tell him I was here?
Gritting my teeth, I tried again, straining against the unyielding metal until the muscles in my arms and back trembled and burned with the effort. The chains didn’t give an inch. It was useless. I collapsed, breathing heavily through my nose, the air in the storage house thick with the scent of my own sweat, dust, and the cold, metallic tang of despair.
Argh! I knew it! I seethed internally, my thoughts a whirlpool of anger and self-pity. Those werewolves probably left me here to rot in this dark room! They only care about their own kind!
The oppressive silence of the storage house was my only answer. Then, the heavy door creaked open on rusty hinges, slicing a bar of late afternoon light across the dusty floor. I squinted against the sudden brightness, my heart lurching against my ribs. I saw the large, familiar silhouette of Chief Gareth, and behind him, the kinder shape of Mrs. Melinda.
They walked toward me. The Chief didn’t speak. He simply knelt, the keys in his large, work-roughened hands jangling softly. He worked methodically, the key scraping in the lock before turning with a solid clunk. The heavy manacles fell away from my wrists and ankles with a heavy, final clatter on the floorboards. The sudden absence of their weight was a shock. My freed hands shook as I reached up, my fingers fumbling before I finally found an edge and ripped the tape from my mouth, gasping at the sudden, stinging freedom.
Without a word, I threw my arms around Chief Gareth’s waist, burying my face in the rough, familiar wool of his tunic. He didn’t hesitate. His large, strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. I felt his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, and his voice was a low rumble against my ear. "Khaleed, you idiot."
And the tears came. Not tears of pain from the cold chains, but hot, shameful tears of guilt that I could no longer hold back. They fell onto his shoulder, a silent confession for all the trouble I’d caused.
