Bloodbound to the Beastly King

He was in pain. The bite on his shoulder had only gotten worse. He had a gnash by his side too. He also limped as he ran, he had stepped on a sharp blade as he ran. It's been two days and he was exhausted. His wolf was out of it, unable to heal of his wounds.

Carter needed a break. He moved through the woods as fast as he could which wasn't fast at all. He needed food, a change of clothes, and more importantly an healer. He needed to be patched up.

He hid behind a tree when he heard leaves crunching like they were stepped on. His heart beating wildly in his chest. He couldn't afford to be caught. Not now. He had a plan.

If only that darn witch had followed the plan. His jaw clenched hard as he remembered the way she had disappeared through the chaos, leaving him to face that mad kings wrath.

Oh, he couldn't wait till he got his hands on her. He'd teach her such a lesson she would never forget. He shook his head, remembering where he was and what he was hiding from.

After some minutes of silence, he continued his journey. He couldn't walk through the town, not when Thorne had practically called a manhunt for him. It was pure chaos out there, therefore he was limited to hiding and limping through the woods.

He walked for some hours more until he couldn't take it again. He could barely feel his wolf. He was starving and his pain had multiplied. Carter made up his mind and trudged towards the streets. It was dark, thankfully, thus making it easier for him to find a place.

He crossed the streets, grunting as his shoulder pain doubled. He looked around, realising he had made it past Crystal moon already. Now, he was in a small pack. A very small one judging by the size. He sighted hit lit with lanterns and made his way to it. Blood trailing after him as he walked.

He stumbled up the crooked path to the hut. Lantern light spilled through the cracks of the wooden door.

He slammed his fist against the door, then leaned on it heavily. For a moment, he thought he'd collapse right there in the mud. The door creaked open, and a woman's startled gasp broke the silence.

Carter shoved his way in, shoving his blade to her throat. "How many of you are in here?" He asked, kicking the door shut, his eyes canning the hut. It was small, there was just one plate set out for dinner. One cup.

"M-me. Just me." The woman stammered, hands raised.

Carter whipped his gaze back to her. She was a middle aged woman. She didn't smell like a wolf which was absolutely weird.

"What are you? A dud?" He snarled.

The woman shook her head, trembling so hard she urinated on herself. "M-my wolf is d-dead and I."

"Wolfless? How disgusting." He spat out. He walked to the plate she'd set out for dinner, saw something that resembled food and shoved it down his throat, still holding the blade up.

"You're going to patch me up—or I'll paint these walls with your blood."

The woman nodded frantically, dashing for the cabinets, she hurriedly brought out some healing liquid and bandages.

"Sit—sit down," she whispered.

He dropped heavily into a chair, grunting as pain tore through his side. His gaze never left her. She scrambled for herbs and cloth, her hands shaking so much she nearly dropped them.

"Be careful!" He snarled.

"Y-yes." She stammered.

He sat very still as the woman worked, her fingers trembled as she dabbed at the bite in his shoulder, pressing poultice into the tear and wrapping it tight. She moved like she expected him to hit at any moment — because he would. He caught her wrist once when she paused. The woman flinched and kept going.

"What's the name of this pack?" He asked.

"W-willow pack." She stammered.

"Willow." He repeated, trying to remember which of those lowlives Alpha was in charge of this pack. "What's your pack alphas name?" He asked.

"Dorian."

"Alpha Dorian." Carter repeated, the name didn't ring any bell and thus it had to be one of the insignificant ones.

"How tight is the security here?" Carter asked between clenched teeth, watching her eyes for any flinch that told him she knew more than she let on.

"T-the patrols go from night to morning. That's all I know. W-we don't get much interference here."

"The king hasn't doubled your security here yet?" He asked.

The woman shook her head. "I- I don't know."

Of course how would she. She seemed like the outcast here. A hut of all things.

He let her continue to patch him up, his thoughts running wild now. He had to get back to the house. The place where it had all began from. He had to find Alma. His beasts. He had to gather all of his assets. He had so many to do in such short time.

He must choose one first. Carter made up his mind. He just return to his pack, his estate. He just gather all of his asset before Thorne is able to land his hands on those that belong to him. Once he has taken it all. He'll find Alma and lay low. Let this pass and let Thorne believe he's succeeded.

He needed to move before dawn. Needed to be far from here before the king's phalanx closed another inch of safety around the realm.

When she tied off the bandage he forced himself to stand. He peeled the cloth off his torso, letting the air sting the open flesh. The woman exhaled a long, shaky breath.

"Show me to your bath and bring me clean clothes." He ordered, shoving the blade at her face again. The woman jumped in fright and got right to it. In seconds she had something clean and showed him to her bath.

He stepped to the crude basin and wiped the worst of the blood off his face. once he was done, he changed into the clothes she provided. It wasn't anything good but it'll make do. Until he got to his pack. He pulled the hood up to his face.

Before dawn, he was moving again. Ready to leave only to pause when his eyes caught something. It was a drawing ok a white sheet. He had missed it when he came in but now.. he snatched the paper, missing the way the woman's eyes widened in fright.

He stared right back at his face. It was a drawing of him, labeled traitor.

He squeezed the paper into his hands, jaw clenched tight with anger. That foolish king. Plastering his face over the kingdom. How dare him.

Carter looked at the woman again. Initially he had planned to leave without any casualty. She'd been cooperative with him.

But not anymore.

"You did good," he lied

She exhaled in relief, a tiny flicker of hope passing through her eyes. But before she could blink, Carter had shove the blade deep into her chest.

She didn't make a sound. He let her fall to the floor and crouched for a moment over her. He pushed himself up, stepped over the body, and walked out the hut.

He walked for hours…hours and hours until finally, he could see his pack house. He didn't need to go through the borders, but when he knew his way.

From the woods, he saw his house and exhaled. This was it. All he had to do was get in and find it.

He took a step forward only to freeze when he saw it. Men in black stood as the door was kicked open. For a second, dread filled him from the inside.

Dragged outside the pack house like they were common slaves were his two daughters. Freya and Victoria. They were screaming and thrashing with everything in them.

Their faces streaked with dirt and tears, their hair torn as they were pushed toward a row of wooden crates set like cages and forced in there.

For a second all Carter felt was a different kind of pain. He'd imagined calling them back, charging into the place and taking them by force, growling that he was still their alpha. He imagined them surrendering and the world bending back into the shape he wanted.

Instead he stayed in the woods, watching as his daughters, his own people were treated like animals.

He turned and walked the opposite direction. Thorne would pay for this… sooner than he thought.