Here we go, go, go, let us heal and grow.

Chan glared at the man standing in front of him with his arms crossed. He bared his teeth at the man smirking condescendingly down at him. The handcuffs clinked and rattled viciously against the metal chain link fence as Chan attempted to free himself once more. He wanted to rip the hunter's throat out and wipe that smug expression off his face for good.

So far, the hunter had electrocuted him at a voltage that was high enough to make his muscles seize but not high enough kill him. The hunter wanted to know where Chan's pack was. The hunter wouldn't divulge why he wanted to know, but Chan didn't care. His pack may have been full of bigoted idiots, but that didn't mean he was going to sell them out to a hunter. They were his pack, even if he didn't run with them anymore.

The smirk on the man's face grew, morphing into the smugest of grins as Chan continued to struggle against his boundings, his ankles cuffed to the fence as well. He wanted to get free of these handcuffs which were specially designed to not break even with a Mysts' enhanced strength.

They were inside some kind of large basement with a cement floor and walls. Fortunately, it was a cool temperatured room because Chan swore his body felt unbearably hot from the rage boiling his blood. The fence he was attached to was drilled into the ground by tall poles which reached the ceiling. The fence enclosed a small empty cage-like space against the wall, from where several faint terrified scents lingered. It was a cage for the hunter's conquests. A place for him to lock up innocent Mysts and torture them before either killing or selling them.

A low growl tore through Chan's throat at the scents. He could distinguish a few different species, but primarily he smelt wolves. Wolves, werewolves and lycanthropes. Many human myths lumped the three species variants together as one creature but the truth was that they were as different as the shetland pony was to the clysdale horse. Or the greyhound to the staffy. Although they were of the same family, they were not the same creature.

A lycan shifted into a beastly wolf-human form that loped around on two powerful hindlegs and sported a dangerous snout which was the culprit for turning the innocent (or not so innocent) humans it attacked during the full moon. The issue with lycans was that they could turn humans into lycans without the human's consent. Meaning that if the lycan happened to go on a turning spree, a village could become overrun by lycans. It is also the variant with the least amount control on its vicious beast.

Werewolves were the product of a lycan and a wolf pack joining. They were blessed with the beautiful full wolf form, but cursed with the lycans involuntarily shift during the full moon, as well as the aggression and temper generally witnessed amongst lycans. However, this aggression is abated by the calming inherent balance the wolf variant has. A werewolf can be born human or werewolf and could only turn humans with their explicit consent. While a lycan rarely retained any memory from their forced shifts during the full moon, werewolves with training could maintain control and remember everything from their forced shifts.

Wolves were born with the inherent balance between wolf and human and were the only variant out of the three variants who could shift at will at anytime. The effect of the full moon usually entailed their wolf side begging for more control and often made them antsy and tense if they did not shift into their wolf form. Their wolf forms looked like normal wolves, except for their massive size which could be comparable with the size of a thoroughbred horse. However, the joys of being a wolf had to be abated somehow, and that somehow happened to come in the form of heats and ruts.

Heats were something that affected omegas and some betas. It entailed the wolf becoming increasingly needy and horny as their body produced a sweet smelling slick which attracted the attention of alphas from miles away. An omega's heat is the strongest in scent and intensity and the omega often loses themself to the need of being marked and claimed by an alpha or beta.

Betas that went into heat were considered omega-betas and their heats were less enticing for alphas, possibly due to omegas being the most fertile for an alpha, however, the intensity was no less painful. In fact, in many cases, it seemed as if a beta in heat experienced more painful waves as they were often ignored by alphas because of their more neutral sent and omega-beta substatus.  

Ruts affected alphas and the other half of betas. It entailed an almost agressive desire to claim an omega and required the alpha to knot. An alpha in rut, similarly to the omega, releases a large amount of pheromones to attract a wolf to knot and claim.

Betas that went into rut were considered alpha-betas and often demonstrate more alpha like qualities during a rut. Unlike with a beta in heat, the betas who experience ruts don't become as lost in the need to claim an omega as an alpha does. Their scent is subdued but flares up more than an omega-beta in heat, and as such, they can trigger an omega's heat.

While 80% of betas experience heats or ruts, 20% of betas experience neither and have the weakest and least enticing scents. These 20% of wolves are highly respected despite this and are often sought out as they are reliable heat or rut companions as they can help ensure the wolf in heat or rut doesnt injure themself or others. They are usually workers in areas where wolves in heat or rut generally go to as a safe place. Although many of these betas may experience bullying during school before wolves come of age to present, they are less bullied than omegas and once wolves around them begin to present, they become a safe haven. Their lack of sexual interference from a heat or rut and lack of scent seems to be replaced by the neutralising scent they can release to nullify the stench of a wolf in heat or rut. In Chan's opinion, these betas should be given special treatment as there are so few of them in comparison the the affected wolves.
But, no one ever listened to Chan's opinions. That was why Chan wasn't with a pack like most wolves. Although all variants felt the pull of belonging to a pack, wolves felt it the strongest due to their more natural wolf side. But Chan refused to be  a part of a pack that refused to listen to his progressive ideas. Unfortunately, the lack of a pack left Chan more vulnerable to an attack. Which is why he was now bound to the side of a cage in the basement of a hunter's lair. Well, that's what he blamed it on anyway. He refused to acknowledge that it was because he had been so caught up in his raging jealousy that he had walked right into the hunter's trap.

His muscles felt fatigued as if he had been hanging there for weeks- because he was practically hanging off of this sturdy fence with his toes barely able to press solidy against the concrete floor, his body suspended by his handcuffed hands above his head.

The scent of the wolves before him swirled into his nostrils more noticeably now. It was as if now that he had acknowledged them, that they were begging him not to leave them, as if the wolves had left parts of their scared souls behind in their scents. His scent receptors began to pick apart the scents, distentangling the mixture of different wolves' scents as the smug hunter sauntered out of the basement, walking up surprisingly sturdy looking steps to a door Chan could not see from where he was thanks to a massive built-in cabinet beside the outside of the stairs. The sound of the door opening, closing and locking barely registered in Chan's mind as his mind ran rampant with thoughts in the cold silence. His body only seemed to be growing hotter, the cold air within the basement chilling the sweat sliding down his arms and neck. As he continued to absently search the scents from within the cage, his thoughts focused on Jisung.

Chan was certain that the boy would be panicking with Chan's absence, especially if the guy he was with that night had told him that Chan had seen them. Not that it would have been easy to miss. They had been on the couch in the lounge room after all. The scent of arousal had been thick and suffocating. The stranger's scent was intriguing and vaguely familiar but Chan couldn't place why. But that scent hadn't been what had sent him into a tizzy of jealousy and anger. It had been Jisung's scent and moans as the stranger sucked hickeys onto his skin languidly, while thrusting into him with just as much unhurriedness.

Jisung's scent had been so heavy with arousal and want that Chan was surprised that the stranger wasn't choking. His moans were unlike anything he had heard before. They were breathy and drawn out, pitched and desperate. It sent aggressive tingles racing up and down his spine. His wolf had wanted nothing more than to tear the stranger off of Jisung and claim Jisung right then and there so that no one would ever touch him.

He had barely managed to convince his feet to turn him around and take him outside when the stranger's eyes stared into his own as he continued to fuck Jisung and mark him up. The stranger smirked at Chan before biting lightly into the base of Jisung's neck- the spot where a wolf would leave their mating mark - eliciting the loudest moan Chan had ever heard from Jisung followed by murmured desperate pleas that even Chan's enhanced hearing couldn't catch. The stranger had maintained eye contact with Chan the entire time and it had taken all of the strength Chan had in him to leave the house and not act on his jealous impulses. Because, did he even have a right to be jealous when he had been pushing Jisung away recently?

The scents and sounds had lingered in Chan's nostrils and ears, echoing endlessly as he stalked the streets without regard for where he was heading or how he looked. He was certain by the way people were scattering away from him that he likely looked like the embodiment of a tornado. He knew that with people scattering away from him he would likely draw the attention of hunters in the area, but he figured if they were smart, they would leave him alone.

Or perhaps it was smarter to capture him while he was so lost in the raging jealousy whipping viciously at his chest. He had stumbled so easily into this hunter's trap afterall. So, so, so easily.

He was torn from his thoughts when the door crashed open and slammed shut before footsteps raced down the steps in a flurry of panic. The hunter met his eyes with wide, terrified eyes. His brown hair was dishevelled and his body trembled with fear while his anxiety spiked the air with a sharp spearmint scent. It was a unique and distinct scent and Chan's brow furrowed.

Everyone, including humans and hunters had their own particular scents, but generally they all had a similar scent for each emotion, the only time they had their own distinct scent was if they were a human born from a werewolf. But the hunter could not be that. Hunters were nothing more than humans with the faint fizzy scent of magic from the decades old spell from a spiteful wizard- or was it a mage? Chan had never really payed much attention to legend. He figured it didn't matter how the hunters came to be, but rather how he could avoid or kill them.

A hunter would never be anything other than human as they took pleasure in slaughtering Mysts, they would never sleep with the enemy- well, unless it was a high fae who managed to seduce them before eventually getting bored and discarding them. But even then, a fae-hunter or any Mysts-hunter hybrid was compeltely unheard of, so this hunter's scent made no sense.

Chan shook off the weird uniqueness of the scent and blamed it on his fatigued mind. There was no way that was the hunter's scent. It must belong to whatever creature he had gone off to hunt this time. Loud bangs against the basement door shuddered through the building and the smell of spearment spiked, suffocating Chan's sense of smell. A small whimper escaped the hunter's lips as he stared up to where the door was situated, despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to see it from where he was standing as he was more towards Chan's left, the furthest away from the staircase and door.

The banging ceased and Chan's attention was drawn back towards the door he could not see. The silence was unsettling, but not as unsettling as the eerie voices that emanated from behind the door.

"Woojinnie?" It was a woman's voice. She sounded sad, disheartened, hurt as she spoke. "Woojin, darling, why won't you let me in? Woojin? Please, baby, don't lock mummy out." Chan's gaze snapped towards the hunter, Woojin, as the salty smell of tears and a strange tangy lemon scent of despair flooded the room, drowning the anxious spearmint smell. Tears trailed lazily down Woojin's face as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as if to prevent them from escaping.

"Come on Woojin dear, don't be cruel to your mother," a deep masculine voice cut through the silence. "Let us in. We just want to talk."

Chan kept his eyes trained on the hunter. Why was he so terrified and upset by his parents? Before Chan could open his mouth to ask, Woojin's voice wobbled through the room hoarsely. "Go away," his words were weak, feeble. They were meant to be screamed, to be ragefully shouted as an order but instead, they were reduced to nothing more than a painful whispered whimper.

The furious screeching in response chilled Chan's burning body to the core. The voices squabbled and mixed together the end product being a ghastly sounding demonic mixture of the woman and the man's voices.

Chan stared at Woojin with saucers for eyes as he realised what exactly was behind that door. The banging resumed and the house shook with the violence behind the creature's ramming.

It was a Boarus. Woojin was running and hiding from a Boarus. Terror shot through Chan's veins. They were going to die. The Boarus was going to break through that door and come down here and tear them apart, all while mimicing the voices of those they wanted to hear the most. A thought paused Chan's panic for a second, who would he hear? Would he hear his parents? Would he hear Jisung's voice? What voice would the beast choose for him.

A clanging crash snapped him out of his reverie and he observed open mouthed as Woojin rushed around the space with hurried steps, throwing things everywhere as he searched for something. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Where the fuck did I put it?" His angered mutterings grew louder the more distressed he grew.

Both boys froze when a crack echoed through the house. A stunned silence followed as if the beast was surprised by its own achievement. Chan wasn't sure what had broken, but thankfully it sounded as if the door was still intact. Unfortunately, whatever damage the Boarus had caused only seemed to renew its energy and the loud banging resumed, the echoing sounds mixing with the sound of the next bang. The house shuddered violently as the beast threw itself at the door with all of its strength.

"Aha!" Chan dragged his eyes back to Woojin. He hadn't even realised that his gaze had moved back to the general direction of the door. Woojin held a small silver item between his fingers, the reflective surface catching the slightly yellow light of the shaking bulb above Woojin. Chan couldn't understand why, but the triumphant smile on Woojin's face calmed his racing heart. He ignored the strange emotion that warmed his chest, but appreciated the calm it gave his racing heart and mind. His eyes narrowed as Woojin began to load a gun with the shiny silver item. It was a bullet. A silver bullet. The boy continued to load the weapon with silver bullets. Apprehension washed over Chan. While silver bullets alone were not able to kill a wolf unless shot through the head or heart, they were still extremely painful. Something within the silver bullets was rejected by the bodies of the wolves, lycans and werewolves and made for an excruciating wound, especially if the bullet was not removed.

Woojin looked up once he was done loading the weapon and met Chan's wary stare, his eyes shone with fear and determination. He frowned at Chan before flinching and jumping backwards instinctively as the door shattered with one final violent crash. It was a wonder that the beast hadn't come tumbling down the stairs.

Chan retracted in on himself, pulling himself as tightly as he could into the fence, allowing the reinforced wire to press into his back as the overwhelming scent of lavender and rot wafted into the room. His entire body shook with anticipation and fear. His eyes were trained on the part of the stairs he could see from where he was, but from his peripherals he could see Woojin creeping warily closer, his footfalls nonexistent as he moved stealthily forward. The gun was raised, safety off and pointed towards the stairs. Shock and relief shot through Chan. Woojin planned on shooting the Boarus.

Slow steps plodded lazily down the steps as the beast made its way down towards Chan and Woojin. The first thing Chan glimpsed was the beasts snout, but it was enough to send terror trembling through his bones and make his blood run cold, freezing his veins. Spearmint faintly tinged the air with anxiety, despite the already heavy stench of lavender. The rest of the head followed by the rest of the beast's body edged into view. A twisted smile stretched the rotten creature's face into a disgusting display of rotten flesh and yellowing bones.

Boarus. A beast of nightmares told to children as a cautionary tale to never blindly trust your senses, because even they can lie to you. The Boarus were rare, so rare that they were mostly just a scary beast of rot and deception that parents told their children to keep them close during the nighttime. The beast had the body reminiscent of a grizzly bear sized boar. It's skin had rotted away, leaving behind rotting black flesh and protruding bones. Accompanying the beast was always the stench of rot and the unsettling, alluring scent of lavender- although different species claimed that they smelt a different scent with the rotting smell. Chan assumed that as the beast's primary hunting method was to lure prey before devouring it, that the creature of rot and deception likely altered it's scent to attract what it was hunting. And lavender was a scent that accompanied and omega's usual scent during a heat. Lavender was a relaxing scent for alphas. It made them let down their guard. The scent could easily leave Chan more susceptible to the beast's deception. Chan's brow furrowed as he breifly wondered why it would smell of lavender when it was hunting Woojin who was a hunter, a human.

He broke himself away from the thought as he held himself perfectly still, hoping he would remain unnoticrd as the creature placed a blackened hoof against the concrete ground. The other hooves followed slowly as it turned its body slowly to face Woojin. Chan couldn't tear his eyes away from the beast barely five metres away from him. 

"Woojinnie," the foul creature cooed in the hunter's mother's voice. The slow movements, the mimicked voice, the scent. It was all apart of the Boarus's hunt. It loved the hunt. It loved it. The Boarus's mimicry was as alluring as a siren's call, it choosing the voice its prey wants to hear the most. The Boarus was believed to be telepathic to some extent as it knew what voice you wanted to hear the most and it knew how to replicate that voice to a T without ever hearing the voice before. To lure prey, the beast would pick a creature in distress as they were the most susceptible to its charms. The more desperate the prey, the better.

The most terrifying thing about the Boarus was how much it loved the hunt. Often doing the opposite of most predators and distancing itself from its prey. However, what seems like a ridiculous hunting method churns the stomachs of even the most stoic of warriors because the creature uses its mimicry to lure its chosen victim away from others or towards its den before either devouring the poor creature while still calling out to the victim with the voice it used to lure it there, or revealing itself and chasing down its prey as terror floods its veins. Boarus were swift, intelligent, terrifying beasts that everyone except for the demon-fae hybrids feared. Even high demons steered clear of the beasts.

"Come now, Woojin darling. Why don't you put the gun down? You don't want to hurt your mother do you?" Chan's eyes slid towards Woojin, straining to see the boy out of his peripherals as he was too afraid to turn his head for fear it might catch the Boarus's attention. Spearment cut through the lavender doused air, only growing in intensity as the pungent tang of citrus wafted alongside it. From what Chan could just barely see, it looked as if Woojin was just standing there, gun shaking in his trembling hands. Why hadn't he started shooting the beast yet?! Chan's instincts screamed at him to get away, but the scent of lavender only seemed to flare up and drown the whole room in the alluring and calming scent, washing away any traces of spearmint and lemon. Chan felt the tension in his muscles relax slightly. The handcuff chains rattled at the slight shift.

The Boarus's large head turned towards him, its beady black eyes narrowing as they focused on him. The beast took a single step in his direction and Chan struggled against the handcuffs restraining him. He was basically served on a platter for this beast. He couldn't run, couldn't escape, couldn't do anything. As quickly as panic sent his limbs shaking violently, it disappeared.

"Channie hyung," his brain fumbled and his body went statue still. It was Jisung's voice. "Channie..." Chan struggled to clear his head at the desperate, needy whisper as lavender flooded his senses. "Channie hyung, I need you," the phrase tore a low growl from Chan's throat as his mind became clouded with lavender soaked images.

Echoing bangs rang out through the room. The Boarus's banshee like shrieking shattering whatever spell it had placed on Chan. It's massive head whirled in Woojin's direction as the hunter continued to shoot the beast. Enraged, the creature charged Woojin. The putrid stench of rot clung to the air heavily, suffocating the comforting lavender smell, clearing Chan's lust clouded mind. However, pure unadulterated terror whirled through him like a hurricane, tearing at his insides and drenching his other emotions with a merciless onslaught of desperation.

Chan cried out in warning as he helplessly watched the Boarus launch itself at Woojin who continued to shoot the practically unaffected beast even as he was pinned to the ground by one of its gigantic hooves pressing against his chest, part of the bone crumbling onto Woojin's clothes. The hoarse gasping  breaths of Woojin struggling to breath as the beast crushed his chest set a furious determination alight in Chan. He had to get free! He lashed about, frantically trying to free himself from the handcuffs to no avail. A gurgling sound rumbled through the air and Chan froze before realising that the beast was  chuckling. An uneasy shudder travelled up Chan's spine.

"Oh, my poor Woojin,"the creature cooed, it's tone anything but concerned as it used Woojin's mother's voice once again. "It's okay baby, mummy will take away all your pain," the large rotten head moved down towards Woojin's throat as its voice distorted into something demonic. "Just let mummy kiss it better."

"Woojin!" Chan didn't even realise what he had done until he was launching himself at the Boarus, jaw open, teeth bared, ears flat against his head, vicious growl vibtating through the air. The monster screeched as he latched onto its throat with his jaws, his large claws digging into the flesh of its shoulders, shredding the rotten flesh with little resistence as gravity pulled him downwards.

The beast bucked and shook itself violently, throwing its body around the room in an attempt to dislodge Chan from its back. The taste of the rotten flesh in his mouth was revolting, but he only dug his canines into the flesh deeper as his claws began to scrabble for something to cling to.

A loud yelp escaped his mouth as he was almost crushed against one of the support beams. He was flung from the beast's body, landing with a heavy thud and another yelp. The beast turned towards him, its eyes glowing red with rage. He stared it down defiantly as it charged at him. He knew it planned to impale him with its tusks. He knew it knew that he couldn't move, that his body was unable to repsond to his commands to jump up and attack due to the numerous breaks he had sustained after being semi-crushed and then thrown. Despite this, he bared his teeth, challenging the beast. He would die fighting. He would die knowing he didn't give up. He would die protecting Woojin. No one deserved to die at the hands of such a disgusting beast.

With a rush of adrenaline, he managed to push the front half of his body up, his forelegs trembling from the effortfor a moment until the adrenaline soothed them into steadiness. He glared at the Boarus, his ears flat against his head as the large boar like creature glalloped towards him. He would tear the beast's eyes out! A malicious growl rumbled deep in his throat in preparation for what was coming.

However, the tusks never impaled him. Instead, a deafening series of bangs echoed through the air and the beast jerked backwards, collapsing into a twisted, rotten heap of oozing green liquid and black flesh. A body he had somehow missed moving in front of him turned towards him and blocked his view of the horrifying creature.

The ringing in Chan's ears seemed to carry the echoes of the gunshots which had just killed the Boarus. An underwater voice struggled to reach him through the current of his fading mind. The adrenaline disappeared without warning, abandoning him the moment he acknowledged that the threat was dead. He crashed forward as his legs gave up. He winced as his head smacked against the concrete. A black darkness seeped into the edges of his vision, bleeding out to consume his sight completely. He thrashed against the darkness in a frantic panic as images of the Boarus's black as tar flesh filled his mind. Chan ignored the faint anxious voice calling out to him. He couldn't focus on that voice, he needed to get away, he had to get away before the Boarus killed him.

A viscous, metallic tasting liquid coated his tongue suddenly and he was jarred out of his traumatised mind and yanked into the dark oblivion of sleep.

So... how are we feeling?
I will be honest with you, I was happy with this chapter when I first wrote it yesterday, but after rereading it and editing it, I just wish I had time to rewrite it all... but alas, it is updating day and you deserve a chapter.
I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it isn't hella confusing like my latest chapter in IHY! was..
This will be the last chapter of 2019. The next chapter will be published next year, in 2020... isn't that insane?! 
Thank you for reading, commenting, voting on this story, and adding it to your reading list 💛