Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Draco's POV

Three more men attack and the first gets an uppercut to the chin, the second a jab in his abdomen and the third an elbow in his jaw.

They retreat briefly. Seeing that they cannot tackle me one by one, they finally settle on a coordinated strike. And the icing on the cake? They shift, changing the former rules of our combat; breaking regulations more ancient than they know.

And even though I can tear each of them apart in the time it takes to put on my shoes, I raise my hands in the universal sign of surrender… Because while I can take the retarded mutts out in only a matter of minutes, there are rules…

Fucking rules.

After the great war, the Alliance stipulated the rules of engagement for all supernatural creatures in order for them to coexist alongside humans in harmony. For instance, under no circumstances is a supernatural allowed to reveal their powers or identity– especially not without ‘authorisation.’ That is why I am currently trying to bargain. But the snarls from these wolves speaks volumes about how much they're not into negotiating.

I count them. Six bodies. Were I to use my powers, there would be half a dozen unexplained deaths. In my territory for that matter. The Allied Council would be on my neck. The amount of cleanup it will take will embroil more than vindicate me, plus my house won't recover from it in fifty years to come. I don't need a scandal right now. I'm really not in the mood.

So I try the path of diplomacy.

But the beasts pile on top of me, struggling with all their strength to keep me down. And despite their number they are still far from winning… that is until one of the them strikes my arm with something and my legs just… give.

I'm still wondering what the fuck was sent into my system when a sudden weakness overcomes me. Disorientation follows and I find myself thinking that this cannot be happening. Nothing has ever had this effect on me before. I am weak, confused and so damn furious at my incapacitation. Fuck the rules, I'm finishing this group of werewolves off right now. How dare they?

But try as I might, I can't get myself to do a thing. My powers are sealed off and my brain doesn't even know where I am. Like that is not bad enough, my body goes so stiff I can hardly get up and even when I try, the world feels like its spinning on its axis. In slow motion.

I’m still trying to make sense of the whole thing when another scent fills the air.

Humans.

Hunters to be precise.

About eight of them surround the area, led by a dark-haired man. Soon enough they're attacking the werewolves. As the hunters-versus-rogues fight ensues, I stagger away from the action, watching from behind a cover of small shrubs as the werewolves are rounded up. As soon as they are, I leave my spot, unsure where I am going or how I will get there in this state but knowing I’d rather not stay here. I don't know how long I wander for but soon enough a building peeks in my field of vision. I head for it in a blind dash.

I enter and wander from room to room searching for the owner so I can at least get an idea who I'm dealing with but it seems there is no one home. The place looks like it belongs to a woman though. Neat and tidy, there are flowers everywhere with some female undergarments arranged on a chair in the living room... An old house belonging to a young, harmless woman with a killer fashion sense and an endowed body, I observe… In other words, the place is safe. For now at least.

But I have other problems. The effects of the drug don't seem to be waning and at this rate I don't know how long I will be able to keep my consciousness for so I call my second-in-command.

“Nero, are you there?"

“Yes sire. Done with your meeting yet?"

“No, Nero I–" The side of my vision darkens and for a moment the words come out in a confused mix. No, my brain isn't working right now.

"Hello? Master, I didn't get that.”

"Nero, help, I need you to–”

"Yes sire, I'm listening. What should I do?”

But radio silence follows as I look for something to grab on to. My legs can't carry my weight anymore and fatigue is covering my whole body like a rash. The drug already has me. I can't even get a proper sentence out.

“Nero? Nero? Come get me… I'm in the gah–woods… At an abandoned house–fuck– east of the… of the…”

“Sire? Sire!”

When Nero calls out to me again, I'm already lying on the thick, purple-and-grey rug in my mystery host’s bedroom, passed out.