Marcus has never felt alive like he feels now.
So this is how it felt to be at the top, to hunt.
It was thrilling, and his whole body was alight with anticipation. He has a shotgun, choosing the gun because he wants to make the hunt even more realistic.
The hunts his family conducts don't feel as reverent as this. It's always a couple of rogue wolves caught in their four-legged form, unable to ever shift back after being in the wilderness for a long time. Other times its couple of deer or boars.
Never a hunt as big as this. He asked his father why they can't just hunt the wolves of this clan, as after all, they are hunters and this clan is meant to be hunted. Didn't the history text tell them that this clan was weaker?
That his clan was the hunters and the stingiest? Weren't they all descendants of the omegas? How powerful can they be if their blood is mingled with that of the omega, the weakest of their kind?
But then treaties and laws come into play, and it just makes everything boring.
But tonight, Marcus is making history. He is going to show his family and the rest of them that those treaties they drew were, after all, just a stupid thing to do.
Hunters will always be hunters. The prey will always be preyed upon.
Prey and predators cannot make compromises and shake hands.
That's not the law of the wilderness. The natural order of things.
Marcus sucks his teeth, laughing as he treks the grounds, his boys all spread out. He can see the flashlights.
"Got anything?" he shouts over to them.
"No! Looks like the dogs are all hiding!"
That draws out jeers and cackles from all of them.
"Let them hide!" Marcus looks around, eyes glinting. "But we will draw them out; no one is getting away tonight!"
"Don't hide, little pups, don't be afraid now!" the other started to taunt.
Marcus can feel them. He might not be as attuned to his inner wolf or even be able to shift, but his instincts are still sharp.
He can feel them. He knows they are near. In the same forest and vicinity as them. To think they are hiding makes his blood run hot with excitement.
He cocks his shotgun again, the sound echoing in the vast forest.
"Come out, come out!" he growls, his steps widening as he charges with renewed energy. "I can feel you! I can taste you even! Know you can hear me, so why don't you show yourself, huh?"
"Or you can run," one of his boys taunts. "I like my prey running away from me. Makes the taste even better when I sink my teeth into it!"
"I know you can hear me, Travis! Do you know what I did tonight? I bet you are curious to know. It involves a certain pretty omega that you are drooling over. I did something to him. he was so sweet; I get why you were after him!"
Marcus knows that if he wants to make the hunt prolonged, even better, he has to hit Travis where it hurts.
And somehow, he has the feeling that talking about Day is going to hurt Travis.
"Do you know he doesn't even know that he is an omega? Well, after tonight, as much as his brain doesn't know what he is, he will know and recognize me as his alpha. Can you smell him on me?
"Bet you can, you are doing after all. Come sniff him! That's the closest you will ever get near him, you mutt! So come!"
Marcus is so lost in his head, after the chase, that he doesn't notice when he strays away from the rest of his group. And even if he notices, he doesn't go back. Because he can feel Travis right ahead of him.
Or is he behind him? he did take a few shots to awaken and make his body warm for this.
But all he can tell is that Travis is near, and Travis is his.
He is going to gin hum down and skin him alive.
"You will never get him; I want you to know that tonight! Day is mine, and I am going to piss all over your territory and burn it to the ground after tonight. I have big plans for you!"
He growls, chest heaving.
"I am going to skin you alive and use your fur as my bedroom carpet. Day is going to be stepping on it after he gets off my bed, or I will even fuck him on it, make him take my dick like the bitch he is, presenting for me right above it."
He chuckles, as he feels him so close. Marcus's eyes narrow as he slightly bends his knees, ready for the attack.
"How does it feel to have something you wanted taken away from you? How does it feel to know I fucked him before I came here? Can you smell his slick on me, mutt? Does that make you angry? Come on!"
He is looking in the wrong direction. A massive wolf steps out of the shadows right behind him and waits for him to look at it, doesn't even move when Marcus jumps back, heart beating fast as his excitement coats the air.
"gotcha."
Bang!
The gun goes off, a slightly stinging heat left on Marcus' finger, and the recoil hits his shoulder, but he doesn't stumble back.
No, his eyes are darting as he looks left and right. The wolf that was in front of him is nowhere to be seen.
He could swear he hit it.
He is the best shooter in the group.
He never, ever, misses.
Something tell shim to run, but he cannot. He will not.
Fuck," he hisses, as he reloads and walks in a circle.
"Hiding again, you bastard? Licking your wounds?"
Just then, he sees it. He knows it's Travis. He has never seen him like this before, but he can tell it's him.
He is running behind the bushes, and he starts shooting.
At the back of his mind, something tells him to listen. That it's too quiet. The jeers of his friends have stopped, and he seems to be the only one in the strange lands.
But he is focused on gunning down Travis that he doesn't notice the five wolves surrounding him, all hidden in the shadows.
He runs out of his ammo too soon, and he can swear not one even hit his mark.
"fuck! Guys, I have run out!"
Silence.
"Tom! I need more! Where the fuck are you!"
That's when he takes it all in.
It's quiet.
Too quiet.
"fuck," he hisses, as his brow starts to sweat.
Just then, six wolves step out of the shadows, and he stumbles back, watching as they all surround him.
He is about to pick up his shotgun again, scrambling for it before someone steps forward and kicks the gun away.
He looks up, registering Travis, his red eyes ominous with how dark it is. "hey Marcus. You called?" He is swinging a bat in his hand.
That grin is the last thing he sees before the bat swings directly for his face, and he is out.