FORTY NINE

                                    

                                          
The sun hadn't yet risen when the pack of wolves descended upon the boundaries of the blood wolves' territory. The foul stench told Isaac their tour guide had led them to the right place after all. It was just as he'd expected it to be; isolated, rundown and creepy. The grass was brown and lifeless, the trees dead with withering branches and not a single leaf. The stench of a nearby swamp sat in the air amongst the rogues. Lit up by lights was a large stone building with makeshift camps of tents and shabby lean-to shelters made of mismatched sheets of metal dotted around it. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the perimeter, its spikes warding off anyone that dare try scale it. 
Isaac lowered his body into the tall grass, his eyes focusing on the movement of a few blood wolves around the camps. By the sound of their jovial and slurred voices they'd been on a bender all night. He'd never fought a blood wolf before, let alone a drunk blood wolf. The thought excited him. Were they clumsy or angrier? Giving their tour guide a shove to the side, he moved to a thicker marsh closer to the manor, the other wolves crawling after him while remaining in the cover of the reeds. 
Isaac held in a howl when he could sense Roxy moving about at the front of the manor from where they hid at the back. She was alive. But he doubted unharmed. Just the thought alone of what she'd experienced during her forty eight hours of capture was enough to make his wolf whine sadly. If he hadn't of been so stupid to be tricked by the man, he would've been in the house to protect her. He should've found her sooner, he should've kept digging for information before this happened. He should've been prepared. Isaac sucked in a deep breath, letting a low rumble out as he exhaled. If he was going to save Roxy, he had to stop the pity party. They were here now, about to bring the A game.
Tobias came to stand next to him along with Kayla, the fierce look in their eyes telling them they were ready. Turning around, pride filled his heart when he saw the same look in the rest of the packs' eyes. They all wanted the same thing. For their Luna to be safe. For the blood wolves to be wiped so they could return to a life of normalcy and safety for all werewolf kind. Trent's silver wolf stepped towards him from where Saltwater Woods pack waited behind him. They were an army. Hopefully an army big enough to face whatever was on the other side of that fence. Trent gave a nod of his big head to tell Isaac that his pack was ready.
'Fight to the death. Look out for one another.' Isaac's voice was powerful. By the concentrated looks on Trent's and Olivia's faces, they too were gearing their packs up for battle.
The pack of wolves lowered their bellies, their haunches rolling as they crept towards the wrought iron perimeter. Isaac had wanted to tear in there with his canines blazing but it'd been Trent and Olivia to talk him down. Eventually they all agreed that stealth and the element of surprise were their best weapons. A few of the blood wolves which had been milling about the shelters stopped talking, their noses tilting towards the air. Like a well-oiled machine, all three packs dropped themselves into the shadows the night casted. The blood wolves continued sniffing, approaching the fence while their yellow eyes scanned the surroundings.
'Isaac!'
'Trent!'
A bolt of coldness stabbed into Isaac's heart when he heard Roxy's fearful cry, her voice cracking with desperation at the front of the manor. Cleo's was quick to follow, sending Trent's wolf rigid next to him. The blood wolves were still sniffing about, the way their shoulders were now rolled back told Isaac that they knew they were there and were about to shift. Fuck the element of surprise. It was already lost. If he didn't get to Roxy now, he could lose her forever. 
Isaac leapt from the shadows, letting fly with a ferocious growl. The blood wolves' eyes widened in surprise before they shifted into their mangy forms, leaping over the spikes of the fence as if it was a fallen log. Behind, he could hear the thrumming of the packs' running steps, the snarls of their excited and determined wolves orchestrated. The packs charged towards one another, their paws making the ground quake. Vicious snarls came from both sides. Wolves began leaping towards each other, canines exposed as they clashed in mid-air.