Journey part 2

Rowan’s POV

I had watched her fall asleep. I knew she was exhausted, and on top of that, every time she got into one of these armored cars, her memories plagued her. I think the doctors called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or something like that.

Looking around, there were only four of us in the armored car besides the driver up front. Lyra was still sleeping, Commander Rourke and his assistant were deep in a silent conversation, while I just sat here watching the world drift by.

Off to Alpha Academy, where it'll be full of not only smelly ass dogs, but dominant, driven males. I can already feel it in my bones that I’ll end up in a fight one way or the other.

The issue is that Rourke wants us to hide our capabilities as much as possible.

Resting my head against the window, I try to figure out how to suppress years of training that have become a natural reflex.

For example, if someone comes at me, my instinct is to reflect the hit. Turning to the side and using momentum to flip them over my shoulder, then I'd be able to pin them to the ground.

I, honest to whatever high power there is, don't know what I'm going to do.

And if I'm worrying about myself, I have no clue what is going through Lyra’s head right now.

She hates to be touched, and I've seen her take down a man or werewolf three times her size without even a drop of sweat. She is a beast, and that's exactly why she was chosen for this mission.

But she's never been good at hiding her abilities, so both of us were going to have to become the best actors we can be.

Sighing….I guess I needed the rest as much as anyone, and I lay my head against the side of the car, using my arm as a pillow.

Next stop.…..Alpha Academy.

The Driver’s POV

It’s been a few hours since we left Aurelia, and to be honest, I truly thought we would’ve run into trouble by now. The Star pack has been testing our boundaries for months now, constantly attacking supply convoys and even, one time, attacking a medical convoy that had been coming back from helping them.

Picking up my thermos from my cup holder, I take a long, deep swig of my coffee. Letting out a low groan of pleasure, as coffee was one of the last few luxuries we got by living in Aurelia. But who am I to complain? If my family and I didn't live there, then we'd either be dead or as slaves in one of the werewolf packs. That in itself is a fate almost worse than death.

The thick forest of pine trees began to fade away, leading us to a valley of endless snow-covered fields. Glancing at them, while trying to keep my eyes on the road, I bet they were so beautiful in the spring when the flowers would bloom.

Shaking my head, I focus back on the road. We were still a few hours away from the academy, as we had to make the long journey high up into the mountains that bordered the Snow Pack territory.

The roads were infamous, regardless of the year, to be icy or muddy. So every driver or convoy had to be on alert 24/7.

Maneuvering the armored car around a sharp curve, we were coming out of it when I noticed movement on the right side of the car. Immediately, I picked up one of the comms, “Commander Rourke, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Andrew, I can hear you. What's the current status?”

“Sir, we have movement on the right side. It looks like two are trailing us. Please come and take a look.”

Silence.

The comm went dead.

Hearing movement from the back, the door leading to the driver's cockpit was flung open. Not even having to look to know who it was, his fiery predatory presence preceded him.

It was Commander Rourke, and he looked pissed.

“Show me!” he demanded, climbing into the passenger seat opposite mine.

Pointing out the window on his side, he began to stare into the void of endless grass and snow. Without the trees, you'd think werewolves wouldn't be able to hide; that was determined to be majorly incorrect. They were masters of camouflage, and they could hide in plain view, and you would never know until it's too late.

A brutal impact hit the side of the armored car, making me grab the steering wheel with a death grip, trying to keep it steady.

Rourke’s face was red with anger, “Their fucking trying to ram us off into the ravine.”

Opening a panel in the car's dash, I saw him take out a key, press it in, and turn.

“Sir, I know it's not a time to be curious, but what is that?”

Looking over at me with the face of a cold-blooded killer, he answered in a tone that could chill you to your bones.

“It's the last thing they'll ever see.”

As soon as he finished that line, I heard howls of intense and mortifying pain.

Then silence.

Pulling the key back over his neck, he looks back at me. “Good driving, Andrew! To answer your question, it's wolfsbane and silver, released in gas and powder form from the rear and sides of the vehicle. They'd never stood a chance.”

Standing up, he pats me on the back and exits the cockpit.

Leaving me staring out at the vastness ahead with a death grip on the steering wheel.