Chapter 18: Monster

The convoy of three jeeps rumbled up the narrow mountain road under a moonless sky. Cass sat in the back of the lead vehicle, squeezed between Roan and Kiran. Five resistance wolves and a massive bull with thick, curved horns rode with them, all of them armed and quiet.

The time for Cass’ first mission for the resistance was at hand. His fur bristled with excitement and nervousness, but this was what he asked for, or more accurately, this is the life he wanted to be strong enough to endure. And he also wanted to do his part, those panthers had tried to kill him, his sister, Roan ... Cass didn’t want to stand by and let that go.

Cass’s new wolf nose picked up everything: gun oil, tension, the faint metallic tang of cursed silver bullets, and the underlying fear rolling off some of the resistance fighters.

Kiran leaned over, whispering, “You okay, new wolf?”

“Yeah,” Cass murmured, claws flexing against his thigh. “Just ... never done anything like this before.”

Roan’s paw settled on his knee, warm and steady. “Stick close. We move as a pack. Don’t worry, we’re going to be hijacking cargo from a couple panthers, and we have the silver. They are outnumbered and outmatched. Just be smart.”

The commander, a grizzled older wolf with many scars across him, faint, signs of repeated regeneration, finally broke the silence as they neared the intercept point.

“Discreet is off the table,” he said flatly. “These panthers aren’t just transporting cargo. They’re trying to start a full-scale war. We’re here to dispatch every last one of them and find out what the hell they’re moving.”

He reached into a locked case and handed each member of Roan’s pack three cursed silver bullets.

“Use them wisely. One shot to the heart or head usually does the job. Anything less and they’ll regenerate. Don’t waste them, and beyond all else, do not let them fall into the hands of the panthers if things go sour. You can keep the rounds after the mission.”