Chapter 103: The Twins
The Whispering Woods was peaceful that night. A gentle wind moved through the tall ancient trees, making the leaves rustle with sounds that almost resembled distant voices, hence the name.
It was believed that powerful witches came here in ancient times to speak with God.
Near a small, clear lake in the wilderness, Artis and her three cubs had settled for the night. She slept in the middle while the cubs lay around her in a protective circle.
The boys had shifted into human form before going to sleep. It was easier to huddle together that way, and Artis had smiled tiredly when they asked, ruffling their hair before drifting off. They had been in good moods ever since they met their father, Ethan Cromwell. Now they finally had a family.
Lupin, the eldest, slept with his head against her chest, breathing steadily. Sylvan and Grimm nestled into her sides, their faces peaceful.
It was a bizarre sight—see grown men cosying up against a younger-looking woman. However, Artis was their biological mother and was hundreds of years old. At the moment, there was a pleasant smile on her face, as she was dreaming of romantic days with Ethan.
Then, without warning, Artis's golden-green eyes snapped open. Her instincts were on fire, and her heart slammed against her ribs. Something was wrong—terribly, impossibly wrong.
It wasn't a sound at first, but a feeling. A prickling at the back of her neck, like predator eyes were watching from the dark. Her wolf senses flared, and her ears swiveled.
Centuries of living in the wild had made Artis sensitive to the slightest danger. She finally caught it—a faint, unnatural sound from high above.
A bird? No. It sounded like massive wings beating the air in perfect silence.
It was the kind of danger that made her fur stand on end even in human form. Artis sat up fast, scanning the sky through gaps in the trees. The cubs stirred at her sudden movement.
"Mother?" Lupin mumbled, his voice slurry with sleep as he rubbed his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Quiet," she whispered urgently, pulling them closer while her gaze locked upward.
High above the treetops, two enormous winged figures hovered like gods of death. They were women. No. Artis had encountered them before. Angels.
They were over eight feet tall each, with bodies that radiated divine perfection and allure all at once. Voluptuous didn't begin to describe them. Massive breasts barely contained by skimpy golden armor plates that looked more like jewelry than protection, leaving deep cleavages and toned midriffs exposed.
Their hips were dramatically wide, with thick and smooth thighs, and long and powerful legs. Platinum hair flowed down their backs like liquid moonlight.
Angels were unique, but not these two. They had identical faces that were beautiful beyond mortal standards—full lips, high cheekbones, and eyes glowing with holy light. Twins. Perfect, terrifying twins.
Artis' blood turned to ice. She knew what angels were and what they were capable of. They were celestial hunters, the kind heaven dispatched when it wanted total erasure of a species.
A deep growl built in her chest. She let it out as a sharp, piercing howl that echoed through the woods, waking every creature for miles.
The cubs bolted upright, alert instantly.
"Mother!" Sylvan yelped. "What's wrong?"
"We have enemies above," Artis said in a deadly serious tone. "We need to run. Now. Head for the deepest, thickest thickets and don't stop, whatever happens. Don't even look back."
Lupin stood first, tensing his young athletic body and flaring his fierce golden eyes. He was already showing signs of the man he had become—broad shoulders for his age, and a strong jaw. "No way, mother. We will stay and fight them together, or else we will shame our father's reputation."
"Yeah!" Grimm added, clenching his fists and nodding beside his brother. "We're not running like cowards!"
Sylvan bared his teeth. "We can take them as a pack!"
Artis' heart twisted with pride and terror. They were so brave, so much like their father. But their pack wasn't facing Orcs or bandits or monsters. It was the wrath of heaven itself.
"My brave boys," she said softly, cupping Lupin's cheek. "Listen to me. Those aren't ordinary enemies. They're angels—mighty, undefeatable celestial warriors. Even your Ethan, with all his strength and magic, would struggle against them. They're too strong and too fast. Please, run. Live for me. I will buy you time."
The boys looked at each other, their eyes burning with stubborn resolve. "We're not leaving you," Lupin said firmly. "Never."
Artis opened her mouth to argue, but from the corner of her eyes, she saw the angels moving. Were they going to attack already?
High in the sky, Rachel and Rochel watched with cold amusement. "Are these mongrels really the spawn of that dark corrupter?" Rachel sneered.
The angel's body hovered gracefully with her wings barely moving. "Pathetic. The filthy wolf whore and her little demon-bastard cubs will not last a second."
Rochel laughed aloud cruelly. Her identical form gleamed beside her sister, her breasts heaving slightly with mirth. "Look at them cowering on the ground. That beast slut spread her legs for a sinner and birthed these mongrel abominations. They reek of taint and need to be put down. Isn't that right, sister?"
"Naturally! Heaven will purify this disgrace," Rachel agreed piously, tossing her platinum hair. "There shall be mercy for the dark one's whore, and her whelps."
"Should we make it quick?" Rochel asked, smirking. "Or toy with them a bit? Mortals do break so deliciously."
"Let's play," Rachel decided. "It's been centuries since we played a proper sport."
In a noisy ruffle, they folded their massive wings and dove. The descent was thunderous. The air screamed, and the ground trembled as they landed on the lake shore in explosions of spray and dirt.
Water cascaded around their perfect bodies, glistening on smooth skin. Up close, their beauty was overwhelming, almost hypnotic, but their eyes burned with righteous hatred. It would an erotic scene for someone perverted like Ethan. However, for Artis and her cubs it was a deathly nightmare come true.