Page 18 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

The woods are dark and eerily quiet as I carefully pick my way around large shrubs and trees, searching for any evidence of werewolves.

There have been a few tracks but nothing more than regular standard wolf prints.

Nothing bestial. Yet. I figured with most people at the bar for karaoke night it would be prime time for a werewolf to make use of the empty woods.

Seems the only one making use of them tonight is me.

I’ve been out here for over an hour and nothing. That is, until I hear a branch snap and a low rumble, almost imperceptible. But I hear it. I always hear everything.

Shouldering my crossbow I ready my arrow-bolt coated in wolfsbane.

I’m not stupid enough to think one eight-inch bolt will take down and fully formed werewolf, but one coated in wolfsbane could slow it down just enough.

I line up the site and slowly rotate, searching for the cause of the noise.

I could have sworn it was a low growl, and it didn’t sound like any animal I’ve ever heard before.

My heart races at the possibility of finally spotting another werewolf.

The last time I saw one I was ten years old and camping with my family.

It was a regular night at the campfire when we heard screaming coming from the site a few down from ours.

When we went to help, that’s when I saw them.

Large furry beasts with massive fangs and claws towering over me covered in dark fur only made darker by the night’s shadows.

Giants on their hind legs with double knees and paws the size of dinner plates.

I’ll never forget them, no matter how many times my parents say they didn’t see them.

No one else saw them or admitted to seeing them.

Just me. The people who had been attacked were injured and taken to the hospital but recovered, thankfully.

That was the night my obsession began, and it never stopped.

I crouch making myself a smaller target and attempting to conceal my presence.

I changed back into my jeans and boots after leaving Blue Moon .

Dresses don’t work well for hunting and running through the forest. I settle my knee on a low flat rock, stabilizing my hold on my crossbow.

Using the slight rays of moon light, I let my vision adjust even farther to accommodate the night.

Most people wouldn’t be able to see much of anything in such low light, but not me.

I may not be able to see every leaf and twig, but I can see far better than anyone I know.

Kids never liked playing flashlight tag with me because I never needed the flashlight to find them.

A rustling draws my attention and in the distance a shape appears bounding through the undergrowth, which reaches nearly to my waist. A dark fur covered body, massive and moving quickly.

My pulse quickens but I don’t flinch. Instead, I line up my sights with the mass of the creature. The werewolf. And I pull the trigger.

My black bolt tears through the shortening distance between us, at the same time I realize it’s coming straight for me.

The metal makes contact and the werewolf yelps like a wounded dog, jerking from where the bolt hit.

It’s movements stutter and slow, stopping for a moment before standing on its hind legs and leaning back on its haunches.

The beast is massive and snarling at the red blooming from a wound on its shoulder.

I hit it. I fucking hit a werewolf . I really hope I caught any of this on camera somewhere. I remain crouched and frozen staring at the creature I’ve been searching for, for nearly two decades. I knew they were real. I knew I wasn’t crazy.

The werewolf turns its attention from the wound in its shoulder and searches the area for its source, eventually settling on my motionless form.

I probably should run or reload and shoot it again, but I am so stunned at finally finding one I just freeze.

Just seeing it and reaffirming my beliefs is more than I could have hoped for.

I mean it’s literally what I was looking for, but I thought I would catch a glimpse in a video or a still shot somewhere.

Not an in-person face to face confrontation.

I remain perfectly still hoping it will run away, because, let’s be real, I will not win in a one-on-one fight against a werewolf.

I was so confident in being able to handle myself in such a situation, but in reality, I’m getting nervous the longer I remain in its presence.

Now would be a very good time for it to eat me, and for me to run away.

Before I can, the werewolf makes the first move, using only his one none injured arm to propel himself forward. Straight at me.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to die now. Finally whatever spell froze me in place is broken and I turn and run.

I don’t care where I’m going as long as it’s away from the monster beast I just pissed off.

I can hear it behind me but the sounds aren’t growing louder, and it hasn’t pounced on me yet like I thought it would have.

There’s no way I can run faster than that thing.

Looking over my shoulder, I just barely catch sight of it running in a different direction.

Like it made a hard left when coming at me and veered off.

I slow to a jog and then stop completely when I realize its not chasing me.

It’s leaving, and when it’s out of sight I hear it howl.

A warning, or a promise to find me again?

I don’t know. Strangely—though I was worried for my life for a moment there—I’m more fascinated with what I just saw.

My adrenaline is pumping, muscles tightening, and my breathing heavy but I’ve never felt more alive. And more excited.

I need to get back to my trailer and check all the cameras.

I wait a moment longer just to make sure the werewolf is really gone and pivot sharply on my heel, slinging my crossbow onto my back and running full speed back to my trailer.

~Ryder~

She shot me. I can’t believe she shot me with a crossbow.

I was not expecting that to happen tonight.

I also wasn’t expecting to shift and chase after her.

All this time I’ve been being careful about what she sees and making sure no one shifts near her, and I do the exact thing I was trying to prevent.

At least I was able to take over enough control to force myself away after she shot me.

I wanted to chase after her even more then, and I almost did.

I don’t know what would have happened had I not pushed myself away. Thankfully I did.

It is not fun running with an arrow in your shoulder.

I’ve never been hit before so this is a first. I don’t pull it out till I make it all the way back to my house.

It’s not a short run but I manage. The pain is more a throb and annoyance than anything.

It’s not deep and as soon as I shift it’ll close the wound.

I can use fairy dust to heal the rest. By tomorrow morning it’ll be like it was never there.

One more reason I’m glad my utility belt is at home rather than strewn somewhere in the woods. I’m going to have to go back and find my boots and clothes tomorrow. Shouldn’t be hard since all I have to do is follow the scent of my own blood.

Rounding the two-story house Hunter and I share, I stop at the base of the stairs to the porch under the motion activated light.

I’m able to see the arrow clearly enough to realize it’s not really an arrow but a metal shaft or bolt.

It stings when I quickly rip the thing out of my shoulder, shifting almost immediately to minimize any more pain or injury.

I stand naked in my front yard, staring down at the sharply tipped bolt that’s barely longer than my hand.

Even after everything, I smirk down at it in my palm.

My Red is a surprisingly tough female. I like that, in a strange way I didn’t expect.

At least I don’t have to worry about anyone going after her.

She froze after shooting me, but I think that had more to do with it being the first time she’s actually been face to face with a shifter, than not being able to defend herself.

Next time she’ll definitely shoot me more than once, if I give her the chance.

It doesn’t seem like she wants to kill me. Maybe capture, interrogate, photograph for proof. But she doesn’t seem like the killer type. Knee you in the balls if you get to close type for sure, but not a killer.

Looking down at my shoulder I inspect the still angry red wound.

It’s closed, mostly, but is still sore and tender to the touch.

Maybe I left it in too long. I’ll have to use some dust. An injury like this won’t go unnoticed.

Intent on getting inside to heal my wound I bound up the few stairs and stop at the top, staring at the remnants of our porch column.

It looks like a wild beast attacked it. Which might not be far from the truth.

I can’t remember if it was like that this morning or not.

Maybe Hunter had a bad day, though he didn’t mention it at the bar.

He seemed pleased as a pup rolling in fresh cut grass that he got to spend time with Lottie.

I’m pretty sure everyone within a mile of those two can smell their pheromones.

There’s something more going on there than just infatuation.

He seems drawn to her as a mate would be, acting possessive and protective.

If his behavior at the bar is any indication.

The desire must be intensified due to prolonged abstinence and proximity to the eclipse.

She’s a human after all. Humans can’t be mates to shifters.

Doesn’t mean they can’t be distracting and tempting.

Tess is tempting. Irritating and smart mouthed but tempting.

Those red fucking lips that demanded my attention.

They were like a beacon calling to me. Making me want things I shouldn’t.

Following her into the forest this close to the blood moon was a mistake.

I know the effect it has on all shifters, I’m no exception.

If I’d have caught her, she would be mine, or I could have ripped her to shreds. Both things that can’t happen.

I make my way through the house listening for sounds of Hunter.

I can’t let him see me like this. He’ll ask too many questions that I don’t want to answer right now, but I don’t hear anything.

There’s no movement in the house. I don’t think he’s home yet.

He must still be with Lottie. I like her, even for a human.

It’s not like we can’t be with humans, I’ve shared a bed with plenty in my life.

In my opinion, it’s not ideal to get involved with someone with a lifespan a third of our own.

Not to mention the issues that arise if children get involved.

He can have his fun, but it won’t end well when she starts to age and wrinkle, and he still looks thirty.

No matter how they feel for each other. They’ll never be able to form a mate bond.

Hunter is my brother and my alpha, and he can do whatever he pleases. Who am I to give advice on dating? My track record isn’t exactly pristine.

Ignoring my brothers love life, and the broken porch column, I jog up the stairs to my room naked, leaving a faint dirt trail in my wake.

First a shower, then fairy dust. I drop the still bloody bolt on my bathroom counter and step into the shower without testing the water.

By the time it warms I’m already turning if off and wrapping a towel around my waist.

In front of the mirror, I lean in and inspect my wound, prodding it gently with my finger.

It’s pink, tender, and angry. I go to my belt hanging on the chair in the corner and flip open the leather satchel holding my bag of fairy dust to find it empty.

Empty? I stick my fingers inside just to make sure it’s not a trick of the light.

There’s nothing inside. The small drawstring bag of fairy dust isn’t there.

Figuring I must have taken it out for some reason, I begin searching my room.

Opening drawers, checking pockets, under furniture, but nothing.

The bag is nowhere to be found. The last time I checked it was yesterday morning when I got dressed for the day.

I was too busy this morning and don’t remember if I checked it or not, so the last time I remember having it was when I was stalking Tess and then…

Then the tricky little minx bumped into me.

She stole my fairy dust. She had to have. There’s no other explanation.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I really hope she has no idea what she stole and thinks I’m just a weirdo who carries around a bag of glitter. That doesn’t sound any better, but I don’t care about that now. Now, I have to get it back from her before she decides to start playing with it.

I start pulling on clothes intent on going to her right this moment and demanding she return it to me, then freeze with my pants unbuttoned and a shirt halfway over my head.

It’s the middle of the night and she just had a run in with what she thinks was a werewolf.

Right now might not be the best time to barge in on her, demanding things.

My shirt makes a muted thud where I throw it across the room, and I flinch at the throb of pain that pulses through my shoulder. Damn it . I’ll have to wait until the morning. Maybe then I can coerce the truth out of her too. I’m getting tired of dancing around what we both already know.