After she licked him clean, Alex made love to her slowly, then fiercely through several rounds until she lay coated in his cum, drifting off to the land of dreams. He gathered her close, holding her as sleep claimed him too.
His alarm buzzed him awake. Silencing it, Alex let Beth sleep and slipped into the shower for a quick rinse. Checking her fridge, he found eggs and fried them up, toasting bread for himself first. After scarfing his portion, he cooked hers: two lightly salted eggs with pepper and buttered toast, served in bed.
"Thanks, but you didn't have to," Beth murmured, smiling sleepily.
"Least I can do. Heading out now to the convoy's meet-up. Can't miss my first mission." He kissed her lingeringly, grabbed his gear, and left.
Finding his car, Alex sped from the underground parking toward the meet-up spot. The transports loomed like beasts: massive, armored hulks with mage tech turrets glinting on their roofs, primed for whatever horrors awaited.
He approached the clipboard guy and flashed his Hunter card. The man checked him off. "Back vehicle."
Climbing the stairs, Alex claimed a seat and stared as the vehicle filled with grim-faced hunters and crew. He fired off texts to his family: On the transport. Mission starts soon. Wish me luck. The engines rumbled to life, vibrating through the hull and pulling them toward secrets buried in the wilds.
Beth's eyes lit up as she read Alex's message. The attached photos stirred a familiar heat in her core. She savored these tributes, the way they made her pulse quicken while imagining his body in the wilds ahead. Alex pocketed his phone and scanned the hunters around him. They seemed approachable, a rugged bunch in mismatched gear, ages hovering between twenty-two and thirty.
They must party together often, he figured, tackling E and D-Rank Gates as a unit. After two convoys rolled out, theirs lingered. Alex turned to another passenger. "What's the holdup?"
"Association request," the man replied. "Adding a young elite who just awakened."
A guy with a bandana knotted around his head leaned in. "His family's pushing him to learn tracking, snag an Occupation as a scout. You snag the Processing gig?"
"Yeah, first job as a Hunter," Alex said. "Aiming for Porter. Name's Alex." He extended his hand.
The man clasped it firmly. "Griff."
Soon, a lanky teen arrived, no older than fifteen or sixteen, flanked by two burly bodyguards. The convoy surged forward, engines roaring past speed limits to chase the others.
Their destination hugged a winding river, the valley sprawling wide and untamed. Convoys would split there, sweeping northwest and south to purge the threat. Satellites had caught glimpses of wolves bursting from the valley, ripping through livestock and stragglers alike. Hunt the packs, find the gate spawning them, seal it shut, and head home.
The briefing came sharp once they hit the wooded fringe. Camp went up a safe hike from the trees, promising hot meals after the day's kill. Most hunters plunged into the brush, leaving a skeleton crew to tend the camps defense.
Alex trailed the group as they fanned out. Trackers probed ahead while the rest hung back, weapons ready. The young elite shadowed the leads, ears perked to their low explanations of prints and scat. Alex hung farther out, uninterested in lessons, eyes sharp for his moment to process wolf skins.
The trail led them true. Wolves snarled into view, cornered by the encircling hunters. Blades flashed, and three beasts crumpled, blood steaming on the earth. Alex's heart raced at the sight, his knife ready to carve into flesh.
Two guards stayed with him as the pack pressed on. He knelt amid the carnage, blade slicing swift through hides and sinew. The kills were clean, pelts mostly whole, and for these low-rank wolves, that fur was the only prize worth hauling. His hands grew slick, the metallic tang sharp in his nose, fueling a primal thrill.
Alex hustled to the next cluster of kills, his knife flashing through fur and flesh as he skinned more wolves. By dusk, the tally hit forty-five beasts down, yet the gate eluded them, a hidden gateway in the shadows.
He bundled the pelts tight and stowed them in the convoy's freezer, the chill biting his bloodied hands. Cleanup came quickly, then a bowl of hearty stew with crusty bread. As he shoved it down, Alex eyed his occupation slot; still blank, taunting him.
Night fell. He crashed in the convoy's bunk, dreams tangled with snarls and Beth's lingering heat. Dawn brought reheated stew for breakfast. Bellies full, the hunters plunged back into the wilds. Alex carved up a fresh batch, then trailed his two guards to link with the main group.
The clearing waited empty, eerily silent; no lone sentry as usual. Tension coiled in Alex's gut. "Something's off here," one guard muttered, weapons drawn. Both tensed, scanning the underbrush.
Wolves erupted from the trees, six ferocious beasts with bared fangs. "Shit, six of 'em," the other guard hissed.
Daggers gripped tight, Alex spun; only to watch the pair bolt, vanishing into the green. Bastards, he seethed, abandoned as bait. A few wolves peeled off after them; the rest locked on him, eyes gleaming with vengeance for their slain kin.
He lunged at the nearest, hurling a dagger that sliced air. The beast jerked away, but the blade in Alex's grip pierced its ear and drove deep into skull. Yanking it free on the next breath, Alex bolted. He snatched the grounded knife mid-stride, weaving through trunks, heart pounding like war drums, lungs burning, branches whipping his face. The slope rushed up to steep to see the fall below; he skidded to a stop but not soon enough. The slide down was lucky; almost to the bottom, he tumbled to the ravine's floor in a crash of leaves and mud.
Glancing up, he saw the wolves silhouetted at the rim, hesitating before slinking away. Hope they rip those cowards apart. If they had united, they could've crushed the pack, he thought.
Scrapes stung his skin, clothes torn, but bones held. This gully whispered of ancient riverbeds, water-scoured stone. Wolves would descend from the left, so he veered right; straight into a shear wall. Curses echoed as howls pierced the air, summoning reinforcements. With no places to hold onto for a climb up.
Then he saw a shimmering red gate, hidden past bushes, humming with an otherworldly pull, cutting through vines for a clearer look and to make a path. Better inside than torn apart. Alex slipped through, dagger raised to cut a path forward, the rift enveloping him whole as he pressed into it.
Silence pressed in, broken by distant growls. He crept forward, a predator now. In the first chamber, two wolves stirred. He exploded at the nearer, slamming steel into its ear before jaws snapped. The second charged; he met it with a savage thrust to the throat, hot blood spraying his chest.
Three wolves spelled deeper peril; four could spell doom. Alex sliced into the hides with steady hands, the metallic tang of blood thick in the air. He unlaced his boots, weaving the tough strips around his left forearm, layering the fresh pelts into crude armor that hugged his skin like a second hide. Bolstered, he pressed on.