Lycan (Monsterverse)

23. Fenrir

TWENTY-THREE

FENRIR

Though I had been gone only a short time, my instincts had been right to guide me back. My mate lay under the female lycan, her large paw on her stomach, the tips of her talons piercing into her skin. Every miniscule part of me urged me forward. But she was much too close to that female’s claws and already smelled too much of blood. I must tread with care. She could not be harmed further.

“Is this the human you hunted?” I nudged the limp male I had found cowering in the tree. The male I recognized. One of the scientists that reveled in cutting my torso open and searching through my organs.

A self-proclaimed scientist. He liked to talk while he performed procedures on me.

The lycan lifted her muzzle, breathing in deep.

“I know you,” the female said, her fangs flashing. “They cut you open. Often. You never begged for freedom.”

Her red eyes blazed bright and she moved.

My little human whimpered under the massive female’s weight settling on her leg and claws sinking into her skin. I swallowed a snarl.

“I do not beg.” I rumbled with a low growl. Her tail swished and she lowered to all fours, avoiding Mia’s head by a claw-length.

She released pheromones . . . they plumed from her in a thick wave. She wanted to mate with me. I sneered. The thick coat of her scent burned my nostrils. Having the opposite affect that they should.

I would revel in ripping this lycan apart for touching my human.

“He was one who harmed you. He entered where they held you.” She must have also been trapped. “Yet, you will gift him to me?”

I sank my claws into the male and tossed him forward, away from Mia in an effort to get the lycan away from her.

“I will gift him to you.” My patience frayed.

“I escaped. And I destroyed them all.” Her muzzle lifted proudly and she shifted in place, causing more pain-filled sounds from Mia.

“You destroyed the humans?” I would keep her attention. Her claws were deep in my human’s leg. I inhaled her blood and a snarl built in my throat. I managed to stifle it and kept still. Only my past practice with patience allowed me to not move. If I engaged her in a fight, Mia would fall to her claws.

The female lycan would remove her limb, and she would bleed—she would die.

“Come to my den. I will claim you as my mate,” the female said.

I rose to both of my hind limbs. Looming over the female. Her muzzle wiggled as she sniffed in.

Finally, she removed her claws from my human’s leg and took a step toward me. I had not looked at Mia because I would lose all control.

I only wanted my human safe.

“Fenrir?” My mate breathed. Her eyes had begun to leak. Rage fired through my limbs, and I lunged. Slicing my claws into the female lycan’s chest, dragging her down and away from Mia.

Nothing would harm my female and live. I landed on her, my claws slicing deep into her chest. She screeched, slicing claws into my side, and ripping through my fur but I ignored it.

I dragged my claws upwards, opening her chest until it split wide. Her innards spilled out.

I sliced into her throat with the same momentum. Deeper and deeper until she lay still and lifeless under me. I would have liked to offer her a slow death, but my human awaited me. I tossed her head away from the rest of her body and shredded into the organ in the middle of her chest pumping blood through her. Just to be sure she was no more. I shook out my fur and blood went flying.

I approached my human, limp and laying on the floor. That foreign pressure in my insides throbbed fire through me. Only she had woken up this ache inside me. I carefully nudged her.

Her chest moved up and down with rhythm. I had studied the motion accompanied by soft inhalations while she slumbered before. A relaxing sound that soothed my urge to pace. She would live. The female lycan sliced into her body and it looked like there may be broken bones, but she would live. When I fed her my release, the bleeding cuts would also heal. But I must get her to safety and get her cleaned up.

A gasp came from behind me and I stiffened. Slowly I turned. The male scientist gasped again, holding his chest. His eyes widened on me, and he began to desperately scoot backward. Approaching the male, I flicked my ears back and forth.

“I know you. Creature 523. They called you Fenrir—” He continued to drag himself, but he would not outrun me and he seemed to recognize this. “W-wait, wait, I can help you!”

A growl vibrated from my throat.

“How?” What would he spew from his filthy human mouth ? I reached him and bared my teeth.

The sour scent of urine reeked from him. Monsters did not piss, we did not need to, everything we devoured was turned into an energy source. This human must not have fed on monster release recently if he could release urine this way. His chest puffed out and his heart thumped loud enough for me to hear.

“I can help you?—”

I sliced my claws straight through his face, rupturing his skull.

“Not interested,” I said. Just as with the female, I would have taken pleasure in doing the many things to him that he’d done to me. Ripping a rib out. Slicing his tongue . . . but my human was more important.

Returning to her side, I found her still unconscious. I carefully collected her against my chest, allowing her blood to seep into my fur. As I passed him, I forcefully stepped on the human’s chest, reveling in the pop of his ribcage flattening under my weight.

I huddled my mate close to my chest.

Time to return her to our den.