Percy's POV

Knowing the next part of the plan, she stood by the entrance, ready to emerge and bolt to freedom with Grover. I walked towards the entrance, ready to play my part and act as best I could. "Time to kick some ass," I muttered as I strolled out into the sunshine.

As I walked into the sunshine, all heads turned to me. Some of the wolves snarled, others glared. Grover was standing in a circle of monsters, eyes dilated as he internally cried for his mother. He was a brave satyr on some occasions, but wolves never went well with goats.

"Why are you here?" One of the wolves growled at me, the one I remembered Lycaon had pointed out earlier. The one that had turned me into this animal I have become.

"Samuel," I said, remembering his name from the introduction, "the daughter of Athena is ready. Lycaon says all of you, except you Samuel, are to return inside. Samuel, you and I are to stay here and guard the satyr."

The monsters gave cheers before pushing each other aside to be the first one inside the cave, eager to find the daughter of Athena and do things to her that made my stomach churn. What they didn't realize that as soon as they entered the darkness, out of sight of the others, they would be cut down by a silver dagger. Only the first few would be killed by the girl I loved, the others would have to face me. As soon as Samuel was dead, Annabeth and Grover would be able to escape.

The question was whether or not I would be able to follow them.

As the wolves ran inside, first into the big cavern and then all into the small one where I made my intentions known to Annabeth, Samuel turned to me with a glare.

"Why must I stay here and guard the satyr?" He growled. "This job only requires one! I do not know why Lycaon made the entire pack come out here, when this is the easiest mission we have ever been given."

I shrugged. "Who am I to question the orders of our pack leader, Lycaon?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "For that matter, who are you to question him?"

Samuel shrank back, looking offended by the accusation. "I am not questioning him! I would never. I am loyal to Lycaon."

"Are you, though? You sounded like you were questioning his orders, and a loyal member of the pack would never do such a thing."

"I am not!" the werewolf barked back at me. "I was merely stating a problem."

"A problem you have with his orders?"

"No!" Samuel howled, glaring at me. "What must I do to show you that I am a loyal member of the pack that would never question his order?"

I paused, considering the request. This was what I had been going for the entire time. "Hm... Perhaps you could help me with something."

Warily, he ventured, "What?"

"As you are no doubt aware, I am relatively new to the werewolf world. As such, I lack training and endurance for feats that you have undeniably already accomplished. Therefore, I would appreciate it if you would do me the honor of sparring with me."

"Would that convince you of my loyalty?" He asked.

I nodded. "Of course. One willing to use his time to help a fellow werewolf learn to fight is one that is loyal to his pack."

Samuel nodded in form of a response. "Let's begin, then," he said before shifting into his full wolf form. He bared his canines at me, growling at me to transform as well.

I followed his lead and became the black wolf that had made so many questionable choices in the last two weeks. Baring my canines in retaliation, I bowed into a fighting position and waited for Samuel to make the first move.

He did almost immediately after, lunging at me with his claws at the ready. I smirked internally; we were using our deadly sharp nails and razor teeth in this sparring match. My plan just got a whole lot easier.

I ducked under his lunge, darting forwards and spinning around before Samuel had even landed. He took the time to regard me with an impressed expression, no doubt thinking that I was already more used to this form than he had suspected. I took advantage of that, swiping at him with a clawed paw. Too late to move, Samuel was sliced across the face right under his eye, my claws gouging his fur and flesh combined.

Shocked that I had managed to cut him, the wolf stood for a moment before returning to the offense. He growled, sprinting towards me and making a mad strike for my head. He missed my head, instead nicking my leg. Red blood was flowing freely from each of our wounds, his more so than mine.

We stepped back from each other, both of us wanting to briefly evaluate our wounds. Mine was little more than a flesh wound, one that would heal quickly but leave a scar nonetheless. I could tell from when my claws raked through his face that Samuel had to have an injury far worse than mine.

Neither of us wanted to be the first to back down, me because of my plan and Samuel do to pride. He couldn't afford to be known as the wolf that lost a sparring match with a rookie, even if that rookie was the famed Hero of Olympus in a past life.

What he didn't know was that there would soon be no one left to remember him as that. I didn't plan on letting him walk away from this, anyways.

Samuel was busy indulging in the pain from the wound I had given him and didn't notice that I was already on the move again.

Arms outstretched, paws gleaming as they pointed towards the distracted wolf, I dived towards Samuel's throat. A second before I struck he saw me, but since it took him so long to notice, he couldn't do anything to save himself. My deadly claws broke through the thick layer of fur, piercing flesh and ripping through muscle. Blood decorated my claws as I twisted the appendages in the impaled wolf's throat.

Samuel tried to raise his gaze to look into my eyes, but found he was too weak to do even that. The werewolf gave a single whimper, eyelids drooping, before he closed his eyes completely and disappeared into a shimmer of golden sand.

Satisfied by the death of the wolf that had done so much to change (and ruin) my life, I transformed back into a human and stared down at my hands. They were coated in a thick layer of blood.

"Perfect," I whispered, using the hand with the least blood to reach into a pocket in my jeans and grasp a small bottle I had kept in there for this exact occasion. Using the bottle, I scraped some of the blood off my hands and into the container.

With a smile, I pocketed the bottle and turned to the satyr that stared at me with wide eyes.
"P-Percy," he bleated, unsure as to how to proceed. I smirked at him, fighting the wolf urge to tackle him to the ground.

"Grover," I said, nodding in acknowledgement. "Be prepared to run."

"W-wha...?"

I didn't let him finish the question before I disappeared back into the cave. Now that Grover is safe, it's time to save Annabeth.

Notes