Mated To My Best Friend's Lycan Alpha Brothers-Chapter 151: No One Can Touch Me

(Author’s POV)

TRIGGER WARNING

"Nooooooo ...," Myra screamed at the top of her lungs as she stumbled forward, her fragile and bruised figure crashed to the slippery, mud made ground. Her right toe nail lacerated from its place.

Mark, the wolf who was chasing after Myra, caught up with her with ease. He scoffed at her condition and shouted, pointing his razor-sharp animal hand at her, "You fucking crazy bitchy human, I didn’t know that trapping you would be that difficult of a task. I thought, this back and forth would go on forever. But ... but sweetie, poor you. There is no escaping from here. Nobody’s going to save you. NOT EVEN YOU." He threatened Myra in his half human, half wolf state.

A chilling sensation ran down her spinal cord as Mark raised his hand in semicircular motion to attack and end Myra’s life. But before that, he howled, gravelly, "Aaawwooooooo ....."

Myra braced herself, as her eyes shut and an ear deafening, fearful scream left her mouth, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

She could tell her end was near. Her mind spiraled with her parents, Wendy, Nora’s thought as one thing struck her, ’I should not have come to this place, never. This was the biggest mistake of my life.’ Her hands balled into a fist as she regretted it all.

Seconds passed by, but the impact she was expecting never came. She just heard a distinct sound of something falling. She opened one eye and what she saw jolted her awake, her eyes widened in shock.

Mark was lying just two paces beside her, as he had collapsed. A sharp, edgy knife was stuck inside the back of his head, the blood was flowing out of his cracked skull like water.

Myra was too shocked to register anything for first five seconds, her breath hitched and she forgot to breathe.

Her eyes flickered as she tilted her head to see who did that to Mark, who saved her and to her shock, the one who saved her was someone totally unexpected.

No, it was not Alaric, or Elio, or any of the Everests brother, nor it was Nora.

It was the tattooed guy, whose balls Myra had kicked earlier, Mark’s partner in crime.

He was the one who threw the knife, not just an ordinary knife but a pure silver made dagger, which didn’t leave any chance for Mark to survive.

Myra was bewildered by such turn of events. A whole lot of complicated thoughts were spiraling inside her brain, but the thought of a dead person lying beside her scared her. And she knew better that this ordeal wasn’t over yet.

She didn’t know tattoo guy’s intentions nor his motive, so she was on alert mode.

For her safety, Myra shoved all her fear to the back of her mind and hurriedly pulled out the silver dagger from Mark’s head, which made the inside of his skull all the more visible. Her hands were trembling profusely, but she didn’t stop. She was feeling nauseous but it wasn’t time for showing her weakness.

The rose tattoo rogue wolf walked towards her, his steps slow but accurate. Myra was shivering uncontrollably but the survival instinct in her kicked in and didn’t let her back down. With a severally injured foot and swollen ankle, she somehow managed to get up, limping. Achingly painful grunts leaving her now hoarse throat.

She didn’t scream or yell, just warned him, her voice filled with determination, "Don’t try to come any closer or else I will kill you, you monster." Her eyes were bloodied red and veiny; tears were just sitting around the corner of them.

A person who had not killed even a single housefly in her whole damn life was ready to kill a giant werewolf in order to save herself.

The inked guy’s face was etched with panic as he trembled from her threat, "No, please, please. Don’t kill me. I won’t do anything. I swear, I won’t. I was just trying to save you. I am not a monster." At the end, his voice turned mocking as he started laughing wildly, his scratchy voice vibrated inside the forest, "Hahahhahah, oh my moon goddess, this shit is insanely hilarious."

Myra didn’t try to run or escape this time. She knew it very well that she simply cannot. So, her entire focus was on his movement as she stood tall, like a true warrior.

"Do you know why I killed that bastard?" the rose inked guy stepped closer as he asked, an ugly smirk plastered on his face. "He is just way too annoying, trying to kill you and all. I told him, that I want to enjoy you first but he didn’t listen my instructions. So, I didn’t have a choice. Now, you are exclusively mine to take. But, fear not, I will bury you somewhere no one can find your humiliating condition."

Myra felt the urge to vomit, his words were disgusting enough and making her nauseous even more, her intestines were churning.

Soon, the tattooed guy closed the gap between them and stood right in front of her, licking his slightly blackened lips viciously. His leering gaze looked Myra from head to toe. Her tattered appearance was turning him on even more.

Myra’s hand was clutching the dagger, ready to aim at him, precisely his heart. The guy found it amusing and came closer. He tried to grab Myra’s wrist, but she dodged with great difficulty. Every part of her body was wailing in sheer agony, but her will power was so strong that she was able to cope with it.

"Don’t make me angry sweetheart. You don’t want to see my hellish mode, come to daddy," the inked guy walked towards her. Myra kept stumbling but somehow managed to dodge his advances.

When all this was going on, a ghastly sound of some animal’s roar was heard.

Both Myra and the guy looked at the direction of the sound. Seeing him distracted, Myra rushed forward despite her ankle swollen like a watermelon, the dagger in her hand aimed for his heart.

But the tattooed guy was more alert, he already saw her coming but did not move or turned.

As soon as, Myra came closer, he grabbed her by her arm, a shriek escaped her mouth as he pinned her down in one swift move.

Choking her wind pipe, he showed no mercy and ruthlessly started to tear the remaining clothes that were sticking to her body. She struggled with every fiber of her being, scratching his forearm, his face, his neck, anything she could get her hand on.

Soon, she was exposed, her top was fully removed.

The guy leaned in, to claim her lips. Myra tilted her head to the side, his lips meeting the nape of the neck. She again tried to kick his private part, but the guy didn’t fall for it the second time.

He scissor her legs, holding her chin in place, "Don’t try that again, human. Stay still."

Myra shook her head violently, in order to shake his hand off, but he wasn’t budge, he grabbed her with an iron like grip. And with his other hand reached for her pants.

Blood like tears spilled from her eyes.

All of a sudden, his movements stopped midway as he just laid still on top of her. His hand was on the edge of her pants and his other hand was still clenching her jaw but he didn’t move, as if time had stopped.

Feeling confused, Myra looked around and found something bewilderingly odd. The drizzling rain which was falling consistently seemed to have halted in between. The rustling and falling leaves were stuck in the air.

"Am I dead? How can~ ...... how is this possible?" Myra voiced out.

Time stood still but quite mysteriously, only Myra could move.

She wasted no time, shoved the guy aside roughly. She crawled her way towards the dagger, picking it up and made her way back towards the guy. With him being all defenseless, Myra didn’t hesitate, the hatred in her eyes wouldn’t let her.

She kneeled, holding the silver dagger in both her hands, Myra stabbed his chest, missing his heart narrowly. Her hands were stained crimson, eyes flaring like burning charcoal.

She attacked his heart repeatedly like a total maniac, crying, wailing like a mad person, "NO ONE CAN TOUCH ME. NOOOOOOO ONNEEEEEE. I WILL NOT LET ANYONE RUIN ME. NO BLOODY HUMAN OR WOLF OR ANYTHING WILL RUIN ME. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Blood oozed out his heart and mouth, but the guy didn’t flinch, he was unconscious all along as Myra took him down.

Out of the blue, she ceased her actions completely and started laughing and crying simultaneously. She got up, still clasping the blood-soaked dagger in her hand with a vice like grip, she reached for the raindrops, which was hanging in the air, neither falling nor ceasing.

’Even in death, I won’t let my dignity slip away,’ she mumbled her last words and collapsed to the ground as the strength in her body drained, leaving her unconscious.

To Be Continued . . . . . . . .