Misery’s Arrival
The icy winds cut through Misery’s cloak as she moved silently through the dense forest of the werewolf realm. The primal howls of wolves echoed in the distance, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and frost. Every sense was on high alert as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain, her sharp crimson eyes scanning the shadows for movement.
It didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for—or rather, for them to find her. A pack of wolves emerged from the underbrush, their growls filling the air. Misery stopped in her tracks, her smirk curling at the corners of her lips.
“Well, aren’t you a welcoming lot,” she drawled, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her blade.
The wolves shifted, their forms rippling and contorting until they stood as humans, their amber eyes glowing with hostility. The leader, a broad-shouldered man with a scar cutting across his cheek, stepped forward. “You’re trespassing, vampire,” he growled.
Misery tilted her head, feigning nonchalance. “I prefer the term ‘uninvited guest.’ Has a nicer ring to it.”
The leader’s glare deepened, and the tension in the air crackled like lightning. “State your purpose,” he snapped. “Or we’ll give you a proper send-off.”
Misery’s smirk widened as she leaned slightly forward. “Relax. I’m just passing through—looking for someone, actually. You might say we have mutual acquaintances.”
Her teasing tone only further riled the wolves, and in an instant, they lunged at her. Misery’s blade flashed in the dim light as she moved like liquid shadow, parrying their attacks with precision and ease. Her movements were a deadly dance, her strikes calculated to wound but not kill.
The wolves circled her, their growls deepening as they regrouped. Misery wiped a faint speck of blood from her cheek, her expression unimpressed. “I’ve had tougher fights with fledglings,” she muttered, her voice carrying just enough venom to provoke them further.
The leader growled low, his amber eyes blazing. “You’ll regret that, leech.”
She sheathed her blade with an air of deliberate calm, her smirk softening into something almost genuine. “I always end up in the worst places,” she murmured under her breath. Her eyes flicked toward the faint scent carried on the wind—a scent that made her pause.
Adrian.
Her senses sharpened, and her playful demeanor fell away. Without another word, Misery melted into the shadows, her movements as silent as the falling snow. The wolves hesitated, unsure of whether to follow, but by the time they moved, she was gone.
Her voice was low as she whispered to herself, her lips curling into a familiar smirk. “Time to catch up, Adrian.”
