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This isn’t any monster, Will.
My blood goes cold. No. This isn’tthescourge he's been preparing for. It couldn’t be.
It’s not supposed to be now. Not here and not now, goddamnit!
The screaming stops, as do the awful sounds of bones snapping as flesh and meat is torn away.
“Show yourself!” Drago roars again, and my whole body quakes, despite Rafe and Jonah hovering over me. I’m shaking so violently, the chair beneath me rattles against the wooden platform until someone puts their hands on my shoulders from behind.
It’s just me. I’m right here with ya, Omega 1.
Can you see it?I ask.
Claudia’s voice is hollow as she answers.Yes. And I wish I couldn’t.
A whimper burbles in my throat.
I can also see that Drago cares for you very much. It’s you he’s willing to die for. Not me. Not any of the wolves out there. You're the reason he has the courage to stand against this thing.
No.
No! I don’t accept that.
That sounded too much like something you say right before someone dies.
And I wasn’t having any of my guys die today.
“The champion.” The voice comes from nowhere and everywhere. And it chills me to my core. Hissing and dry, it’s like desiccated vocal folds and sandpaper. It makes me want to retch. “How nice to finally meet you.”
“Can’t say I feel the same,” Drago says, head turning in all directions to catch the beast.
It has no scent. Makes no sound when it moves. Just that awful voice and the broken bodies it’s left behind.
Drago rips off his shirt and the scars on half his body light up as if he’s being electrocuted.
No…
Like a bolt of lightning.
It’s beautiful. Spectacular even.
“Show yourself, scourge!” he bellows a third time.
Visceral dread fills my body. I want to run, to hide, to dig a hole and bury myself in it. Anything to get away from this awful creature.
And Drago makes his move.
He hops off the platform and into the wasteland of dead and dying wolves on the ground. He moves quick, leaning close to the dying wolf’s ear for a moment before drawing his blade and slicing open their throat.
“He-he’s asking for their power. So it doesn’t go to waste,” I say to myself, to Claudia, to Jonah and Rafe in case they didn’t know.
I wouldn’t have them thinking he was a monster, too. Not like I had.
A stiff wind blows and that awful voice croaks again. “Collect all the toys you like, Champion. It only makes you that much tastier.”
Tasty? Did he mean that literally? Is heeatingwolves down there?
Yes, sweetheart. It’s what the Wendigo does.
