Hunter Mate [COMPLETED]

Chapter 3

{Edited}

We were currently driving through the dark, foggy woods of Aiden, alpha of the Silver Runners, pack lands. They were large, filled with blooming flowers and fields of roses and lilies. It was beautiful.

My mother had always brought home a rose for me after training with my father. I'd always look and feel so beat up, she couldn't help but comfort me.

Who ever thought that the dark assassin would ever take pictures of flowers? I thought as I inwardly chuckled to myself.

Next to me, Aidens hands twitch to hold mine, the moons bond too strong to control. My hands shook, but my pride didn't think to waver one bit. I didn't plan on holding hands with him anytime soon.

I didn't plan on staying at the pack house with Aiden, and frankly enough, I didn't plan on being nice either. I was going to kill them from inside out, assassinate them the way their species did to mine. They deserved it, but my heart thought otherwise. With every viscous prediction I made, my heart clenched slightly.

It seems the moon was playing games with me.

My brother Nikolay, also knew them, this whole time he'd never told me that he'd wanted to be a werewolf, just that he was a tad but fascinated by them. It hurt having to find out he was bitten on purpose, but if that's what made him happy than I was fine with it, he was the only family I had left.

Vincent, Nikolays father, was the only werewolf freind of my dads. I say his dad because I don't believe in replacing my parents, I will always stay loyal to them and complete their legacy. My brother Nikolay, was bitten, meaning that he couldn't complete his legacy or mission.

I'm pulled out of my endless thoughts as Aiden speaks to me.

"Do you want a separate room or-" His voice was questioning, careful and soft, unlike my answer. Impulsive, angry and unhappy.

"I'll be getting my own room and not be sleeping next to a dog like you," I informed. Oh, how he though wrong. His good looks were no match for my unwavering pride. My shell was not one to be cracks too easily. I heard a low, yet threatening growl escape his throat."Is that supposed to scare me?", I asked, my tone challenging.

"We are not dogs, just understand that!" He said.

"Says the guys that can transform his legs into paws and his nose into snout. Says the guys who's mother is a bitch."that last comment was way out of line, rude and insulting, but my anger was not a border to be crossed.

"Would you just stop and think for a second! My moms not a bitch!" He growled

"Well, she is a female dog." I muttered loud enough so that he could hear me. He glared at me and I just used my phone. I was acting beyond childish, but could you blame me. I just found out my brother decided to abandon my families legacy, and that my future was tied to a man who's species murdered my family.

"Why are you so quick to judge?" He asked, sadness lacing his wavering voice. He was hurt, he was confused as to why I was acting this way.

Aren't we all quick to judge everyone? That damn question was not one I wanted to answer nor talk about. The sensitive subject was to stay of out our ears. My parents' death was, and still is, a healing wound, despite all the years that had gone by.

"That's for your small dog brain to find out and me to keep to my self, you fudge hole." I toned down on my insults. We were both crossing the line with our questions and snarky comebacks, me more than him, and I was tired.