He didn't hate Julianna, but he was still debating on whether or not he should just kill her boyfriend or not. He was already wary about humans, but she had dared reveal not just herself, but the entire fucking Pack and the location of their territory and home to a human that wasn't even her lifemate. As far as Mike was concerned, the mute was just a fling. If he wasn't? Well – He could always simply come to an untimely demise. He was sure that Danny was probably a nice boy, but the fact that he was human overlooked all of that. There was a reason there weren't many humans that were allowed to hang around Packs – They rarely understood, cared for, or respected the Werewolf traditions. He wondered how keen Danny would be to slip into her jeans if he knew that she descended from wolves. Literally. Many could not answer the question of whether the chicken or the egg came first, but Michael knew for a fact that the wolf came before the human. Hence his feeling of disgust for Werewolves mating with humans. Being in human form didn't make it any less of bestiality.
He could feel the burn as his powerful and long legs thrust him over the fallen tree in his way, too large to duck under it. His jet black fur was pushed down as the wind raced through it, filling him with the sensation of absolute freedom. The wolf threw his head back and let out a howl that the others responded to quickly. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he leaped over yet another fallen tree. There were plenty of fallen trees littering the ground as a result from them fighting, not looking where they were going, or just pushing them over because they could. He remembered what it was like when he was young, watching the older wolves knock things around. He was still just the size of a normal wolf at the age of seven.
He was fifteen when he was the size of a pony and his strength increased. Twenty came around and he was as big as he is now, larger than a grizzly bear and seven times as strong. Taking down trees was easy and it was a rush to feel the power surge through him. But he wasn't here to take down trees, he was on his way to the larger of the lakes on the property. He could feel the others in his head, laughing and taunting one another as they raced. He simply threw his head back and let loose a happy howl. It had been a while since they had run together. Their earlier hunt was a good one. Considering their large size, it took a lot to fill them up. The kids went through a good three sixteen ounces of steak just to satiate themselves. For that reason, they took care not to hunt too much, allowing the animals to breed more so that they outnumbered the wolves a good eighty to one.
“The first Werewolves to come into existence started in the British Isles. That's where the first Viking raids began. Back then, being a witch wasn't as taboo as it became later on as centuries passed. So, fearing for the attacks to come, many villages turned to local witches for aide and the witches tried to defend against the vikings themselves with their magic, but it wasn't enough. Vikings had their witches too. So, they decided to fight brute force with brute force. They went deep into the forests and decided that animals would be the best. The wolves were wanted because they were true predators, beautiful, powerful, stealthy, honorable, and loyal.
And so, with their powerful magic, they gathered many Packs and granted them the ability to shift into human forms at any time that they wish by sacrificing a dozen human hearts on the night of a full moon, though they never would be able to shift into humans on the night of a full moon. They weren't just able to look human – They were capable of understanding human speech and speaking it themselves. Nearly their entire genetic makeup shifted. But a few witches wondered about how they would defend against vampires. Sure, they could take down a human man...But a vampire? And so, they were granted five times their previous size. They increased in strength as well. Even a newborn Werewolf would have three times the strength of a human child. Their senses were greatly multiplied and their intelligence was heightened, though it was hardly needed.
You could imagine the surprise of the Vikings when they attacked towns guarded by these large and fierce creatures. Many of them couldn't believe what they were seeing and had convinced themselves that the villagers had somehow tamed bears to fight for them. But they never gave up and sometimes they would win. The werewolves were also effective in deterring vampires and soon, everyone wanted some. From the British Isles to Scandinavia to Italy eventually to the Americas. Werewolves spread far and wide. But we were forced into hiding when we became hunted. They soon forgot that we were creatures of the wild and not meant to be tamed house pets and guards. We faded into myth, dissociating ourselves as we watched humans destroy themselves from the shadows. It wasn't our problem anymore.”
Astrid watched from the shadows as Michael told the tale of Werewolves coming to be, a light smile on her face as she remembered their rise all too well. They were as fascinating then as they are now. To her, at least. But with how much the Immortals tended to stay away from one another, rarely being able study each other outside of battle. Faeries were her favorite so far. She took a brief moment to think back to the flowers she had shown Jack – He had been confused and a bit frustrated when they wouldn't respond to him and she still hadn't told him how she caused them to open. They bloomed at her touch, emitting a short burst of light and glittering under the moonlight with their translucent petals. They were beautiful.
Janelle and her brother were naked like the other wolves at the fire, listening to their father eagerly as they tore into the buck that had crossed their path earlier. Blood covered them, messy eaters that they were. But they didn't mind. Their eyes shone with pride for their heritage as they looked around at the others. Though they scrutinized Julianna and and Leanna before returning to their chow. Michael held an air of power about him as he leaned forward some, relaying the story that had been passed down from Wolf to Wolf since their first Pack. It was the same story through every Pack, though he felt ashamed to be associated with them as they cast away their traditions for the modern world of humans.
Somewhere within Venice...
The Cacciatorri Venice HQ didn't really look like much on the outside. Its walls were plain white with a splash of green upon its conservatory dome to shake things up. Guards in black patrolled the grounds with guns and silver stakes, daring Immortals to attack the sacred ground. This mansion was only one of the many Cacciatori headquarters locations across the world and by far one of the smaller ones. The group living that reported to [and often lived in] this particular mansion handled every supernatural sighting south of Venice. They hadn't gone out in a while now, Doctor Lennox still in hot water with his superiors for what appeared to have been a false lead on a decent sized Vampire Coven in the small town of Rose. But they found no trace of them and if anyone in town knew anything...they hadn't said so.
It was within this mansion that Drago Caito lived. He had been living there since the Cacciatori executed his parents and older brother for willingly turning Vampire. They hadn't been associated with the secret society of hunters for almost twenty years, though they still taught their children the Cacciatori ways. Drago, with only his grandparents left, was forced to move in with them. His grandfather had been the previous leader of the southern Italy division. But Doctor Lennox had taken over when his grandfather passed away. Drago hardly cared – Leadership wasn't passed down, it was earned. And he didn't want it.
Right now, the well-built male was nursing a set of bleeding knuckles. It was nearly two in the morning and he was content with simply spending time on his own, locked up in his bedroom. Well. The room that he shared with the other young men whenever they stayed. Some stayed permanently like he did while others came and went as they pleased, having their own jobs and lives outside of the Cacciatori. Everybody took Drago's refusal to get an outside job as extreme dedication to the Cacciatori.
If only they knew.
He was actually wishing that Landon would come by. He hadn't seen his boyfriend all day. Considering that the Cacciatori were all hardcore with their Catholicism, the relationship between the two young men wasn't something that they talked about openly. There were a lot of things that he didn't like about the Cacciatori. He was a firm believer in God, yes. But while the guild of hunters seemed to focus on preaching about God's wrath and hatred towards specific groups, Drago was more about the love. But he'd be free soon.... He hoped. Maybe he actually could find a Vampire to speak to if Doctor Lennox would send him with the investigative crew back to Rose.
He stood and found a dark grey tank top to pull over his bandaged torso, having his ass handed to him by one of their trainers earlier. He moved his fingers gingerly, the bandaged digits still aching from missing Alex's head and hitting concrete. He was lucky that he didn't sprain his wrist or break his fingers.