The Prophecy (Saga of the Chosen Book 1)

by Petra Landon

  “Are you? That makes one of us.”

  “What is it that concerns you, my boy?”

  “It makes things bloody complicated” Raoul replied bluntly.

  Duncan liked the young wizard. He had from the very beginning, when she had attempted to help the Shifters who’d come to her aid from being overwhelmed by the leeches confronting them, at great personal risk to herself and the secrets she protected from the world. From what he’d observed of her, she had a good head on her shoulders and a kind heart. She could be naïve sometimes and occasionally impulsive but the traits were borne of a lack of experience, never malice. She was smart, a good observer and a fast learner. They’d be good for each other, Raoul and her. They complimented each other well. She’d bring Raoul out of his frozen shell, making him want to engage with the world for her sake. Raoul needed someone like her - an optimistic soul determined to look for the good in life, irrespective of the troubles that came her way. And he would watch over her like few men could - tenacious, single-minded and ruthless when it came to her safety and determined to make it his life’s priority. It would help focus Raoul, give him a new purpose in life that had been missing since those dark days in the wilderness.

  “Because of Hawk?” Duncan remarked shrewdly. It was clear that Hawk was smitten with Tasia. This had the potential to cause serious turmoil in the Pack, Duncan knew. But that was a worry for another day.

  “Amongst other things” Raoul said cryptically. Like wondering whether I’m losing it because I’m magically able to see visions of her with Hawk, for one!

  A part of Duncan hoped that she led Raoul a merry chase for that would be good for the boy. Women had always come easily to Raoul, with his good looks and the aura of power that hung over him. It would be good for him to make an effort this time; to work hard to woo the woman he wanted, Duncan mused in silent amusement. He, for one, would be content to sit back and watch the crazy ride he suspected he was likely to bear witness to.

  “So simplify it” Duncan pointed out easily.

  Raoul met his friend’s gaze, a martial light in his gold eyes. “I’ll be damned if I let a wizard get under my skin like this.”

  “It’s too late for that” Duncan retorted, his amusement at his friend’s predicament clear. “She’s been under your skin from the very first day, Raoul. And not because she’s a wizard. You’re fully capable of separating that facet of her, if you want to.”

  Raoul contemplated the perceptive English Shifter wryly. Duncan was right. He just hadn’t been willing to admit the truth to himself. Her being a wizard was not the only reason the witchling possessed the ability to get under his skin.

  “You’re the only man I know, my boy, whose idea of a courtship is to give the lady a hard time” Duncan grinned. “Need I remind you of the old adage of catching more flies with honey than vinegar. Where’s the honey, Raoul? I know you have spades locked in there when you choose to bring it out.”

  Now this was too much, Raoul reflected. Duncan was enjoying this a little too much, in his opinion.

  “You’re a fine one to talk” he retorted. “I don’t see you attempting any ‘honey’ on a certain young woman we both know you like more than you’re willing to admit.”

  Duncan’s eyes snapped to his, an arrested expression in them. “Is it that obvious?” he asked soberly.

  “Only to me, Dunc. I’ve been watching you mooning over her for the last five years.”

  Duncan’s eyes slid away from him to gaze broodingly around the room. Raoul observed his friend carefully, taken aback by this glimpse of gravity in him. He’d rarely seen Duncan like this and Raoul had spent almost half his lifetime with him.

  “She’s not for the likes of me, Raoul” Duncan said gravely. “I won’t go there.”

  “Why not?” Raoul inquired softly. “You think you’re too old for her?”

  “Age is a relative thing for us Chosen” Duncan said philosophically, getting up from his favorite armchair to tread the room, his eyes caressing the books in the shelves piled high all the way to the top.

  “Then why?”

  “The soul is black, my boy” Duncan said heavily, his eyes on his books. “No amount of absolution is going to fix that. She deserves more than a blackened soul.”

  “No” Raoul objected vehemently. “This is me, Duncan. I know you. You and I, we’ve plunged the depths together. You saved me – my beast, my humanity, my soul – all three, whatever you want to call it. You showed me the way; gave me a new lease on life when I’d almost given up hope. Your soul is no more blackened than I’m a damned leech!”

  Duncan merely gazed at him in response, a weariness and sadness on his face that struck Raoul like a blow to his midsection. How had he missed this about his friend, he wondered. This quiet melancholy that Duncan bottled up to keep hidden from the rest of the world. Had he truly been so engrossed in shutting himself off from the world that he had been oblivious to his friend’s despondency, Raoul mused with regret.

  “Heed your own advice, my friend, and let go of the past” he advised softly with more gravity and less passion.

  Chapter 20

  The Prophecy assumes center stage

  The beast growled as she fought to keep it from taking over, the sound loud in her head. Or at least, she hoped that the roar was confined to her head. She was this close to losing control and things were a little hazy. The door to the shed rattled, the noise signaling the presence of the blue-eyed witch. The witch walked over to where she lay on the hay, those merciless blue eyes clinically accessing her condition. Today was a record of sorts - the first time she had not been able to muster the strength to put up a pretense before the witch. She suspected that the witch was pleased.

  “That’s it” the witch purred with a glint of satisfaction in her blue eyes. “Let it come out. Don’t fight it. Once you are the animal you were always meant to be, you can go home.”

  No, she screamed silently, while the witch’s magic skittered over her weakened body. Once I’m the animal you want me to be, I will be dead. Killed by others like me. Her body ached all over, her limbs feeling too heavy to move. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a proper meal, just some water the witch would occasionally fill in the bowl by the side of the shed. To think that she would one day die like this, like the animal the witch was determined to reduce her to. It had taken her a while but she had eventually understood what the witch wanted from her. This was what she had been fighting tooth and nail to not succumb to. Not only to deny the witch who tortured her but also because it would signal her death knell. Once she lost control of her beast, the essence of her would be gone. All that remained would be a shell that no longer resembled a human being.

  She had no idea how long she lay in the shed in her delirium until the door rattled again. She twisted her head with an effort to glance towards the door. It was probably the witch again, come to check whether her wishes had finally been realized. The door crashed open with a bang, the roar of the wind whipping in through the open doorway. Was it winter already, she wondered deliriously. It had been spring when she’d made the journey here.

  A shuffling sound made her crane her neck again. A massive black bear, with little flecks of snow clinging to its fur stared down at her. So, it was winter, she realized with wonder. The snow on the bear’s fur bore evidence of that. She narrowed her eyes to get a better look at the bear – the expression in those eyes did not reflect that of an animal. The bear in turn leaned down to take a closer look at her and that’s when her beast decided to make its presence felt. Her beast roared its aggression at the proximity to the bear, finally breaking through after months of trying. The roar filled the shed, creating a cacophony of sound mixed in with the high-pitched whine of the howling wind outside. In response, the bear stood up to its full height to swing one mighty fist at her. Weakened by months of starvation and torture, her world went dark abruptly.

  Tasia shot up in bed, her silent scream echoing in her head. She g
lanced at the bedside lamp that kept the dim room from being completely dark. Thank God for small mercies. She was now back in her room at the Lair, not sharing one anymore with Sienna. Tasia shook herself, her heart pounding from the vivid nightmare. The frequency of the nightmares had finally forced her to come up with a routine to help calm her down after experiencing one. She hopped off the bed to sip on a glass of water while gazing out at the distant view of Telegraph Hill. She had been there earlier tonight, she reminded herself. Hawk had driven her there just a few hours ago, to comfort and reassure her.

  After about ten minutes, Tasia had to face the fact that her routine wasn’t working tonight. Might have something to do with the presence of the bear in the nightmare tonight, she concluded. This was a new addition. She’d never encountered him before in any of her nightmares. The near disaster of the encounter with the Alpha this evening might also have something to do with this restlessness that Tasia sensed in herself. She opened her door to peer out into the long hallway adjoining her room. The Lair lay completely silent in the night. Tasia glanced around her room once more with a sigh. The echoes of the shed and the torture seemed to reverberate in here. Perhaps it was time to choose a book from the Pack Room upstairs, she concluded reluctantly. Nothing too pedantic, just some light bed time reading that might help to relax her and distract her from the echoes of her dream. She made sure to wrap a thin blanket around herself before venturing forth. The Shifters never seemed to feel cold and the Lair was always kept at a temperature Tasia considered glacial.

  She traipsed up the stairs unhurriedly and into the Pack Room. The door lay open with lights blazing in the vast room although it was empty when she peeked in. She strode in to look at the books that surrounded her; books covering a variety of interests and subjects. Having spent a fair amount of time in here, Tasia knew where to look for the classics. She chose a copy of Pride and Prejudice, an old favorite and an easy read she hoped would help her fall sleep again. While she debated which one of the couches to make herself comfortable on, her eyes were drawn to the Alpha’s Room. Light streamed out through the open doorway to it. Something, an impulse perhaps, drew her to the room. Tasia walked slowly to the open doorway to peer in. The Alpha sat sprawled in his chair behind the enormous desk, his booted feet crossed casually over his desk and a glass in his hand. He gazed broodingly into the amber depths of his glass, seemingly in silent contemplation of its contents. As Tasia shuffled to a stop at the doorway, he glanced up. The hooded eyes studied her for a moment in silence, taking in the book clutched in her hand and the blanket wrapped around her, one edge of which trailed on the floor behind her.

  “Trouble sleeping?” he inquired inscrutably.

  Tasia nodded mutely.

  “Want some company?” he offered, more blandly this time.

  Tasia did indeed. Her heart still beat a little too fast from the echoes of the nightmare. She could do with a distraction. The dilemma was simple – did she want this particular man’s company while the nightmare still held her in its tentacles. She hesitated, her uncertainty palpable. The Alpha waited patiently, the hooded eyes seemingly content to wait for her response. Eventually Tasia found herself nodding mutely to his invitation.

  “Make yourself comfortable” he invited, gesturing at the couch and two chairs that formed the small sitting area on the other side of the room from his desk. Her eyes fell on the single chair across the desk from him. Tasia’s mind wondered idly at the missing chair that had formed the matching pair across the desk before.

  She made her way to the couch to rearrange the blanket more comfortably around her, only glancing up from her task when she heard the heavy door swish shut. The Alpha made his way back to his chair to sprawl with the same ease as before, planting his booted feet on his pristine desk once more. He took a sip from his glass to swallow it before catching her startled eyes on him.

  “Just in case you feel the urge to chat” he explained gravely, gesturing at the closed door.

  “Would you like a drink?” he offered as she remained silent, pointing at the bottle that sat on his enormous desk. It was two thirds full of the same amber liquid in his glass.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Single Malt. A very good one.”

  Tasia crinkled up her nose, the gesture unconsciously cute. “No, thank you. I don’t like the taste of whiskey.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, Big Eyes.”

  So, I’m back to being Big Eyes, I see.

  Tasia settled into the couch comfortably to open her book. Elizabeth and Darcy beckoned. It had been a few years since she’d last read Pride and Prejudice. Within fifteen minutes, Tasia was engrossed in the daily life of the Bennet family and looking forward to the first meeting of Bingley and Jane.

  “Is it Anderson that worries you?”

  Lost in the world of Jane Austen’s turn of the century English countryside, it took Tasia a few moments to wrench herself away from the story. She glanced blankly at the Alpha.

  “The nightmare” he expanded. “Is it because of Anderson?”

  “How … how did you know about the nightmare?” the astonishment in her voice was obvious.

  “I know” he said shortly.

  Tasia stared into the gold eyes for a moment. They gave nothing away as usual.

  “No” she muttered, looking away from those eyes. “The nightmares are about something else.”

  I wish I knew what they were about.

  Nightmares, he mused with a surge of compassion. He knew all about those. No wonder she’d come up here seeking a distraction - into the Lion’s Den as far as she was concerned.

  “Don’t worry about Anderson” he reassured her brusquely. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Her eyes shot up to look at him across the width of the small room. “How?” she asked baldly.

  And why?

  Raoul contemplated her for a moment before straightening up in his chair. He swung his feet off the desk before sauntering over to her corner of the room, with his glass in his hand. She watched him approach, her eyes a little wary. He took the chair across from her, the long legs splaying as he sprawled in the chair. This side of him caught her by surprise. Tasia had never seen him this spontaneous before. He was always so controlled, his every movement seemingly choreographed and every action deliberate. He took a sip from his glass leisurely only to catch her watchful gaze on him.

  “A sip perhaps?” he offered, holding out his glass to her.

  Is that a trick question? I’m not going to be taken in by this again. Shifter traditions or not, I’ve certainly learnt my lesson.

  Amusement flashed across his face briefly at her confusion. “You’re right to be so cautious. But we’re alone in here. I certainly won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “No, thank you” she said primly.

  “Chickening out?” inquired the insidious voice.

  This man, Tasia fumed silently, her ire rising unexpectedly at his ribbing.

  “Certainly not” she retorted with composure. “When I gamble, it will not be for a drink that I don’t even like in the first place.”

  “Very wise of you” he murmured. The gold eyes flashed her an enigmatic look that Tasia couldn’t interpret although she did get the impression that he was rather pleased with himself. Sparring with him was certainly a heady experience. It kept her on her toes. At least, Tasia realized to her surprise, the echoes from her nightmare were well and truly gone.

  “About Guardian Anderson” Tasia changed the subject hastily.

  “You said that your birth was kept a secret.”

  Tasia nodded, reminded suddenly of the conversation where she had blurted that out. “My father kept it a secret.”

  “Then why does Anderson suspect that he had a daughter? He’s only searching for female wizards.”

  Tasia straightened up in her chair, the import of his words dawning on her. The Alpha was right. This was too specific a suspicion for the Guardian to have simply
guessed at. The book slipped from her loosened clasp to fall with a soft clatter onto the carpeted floor.

  Raoul bent down to pick up the book in one graceful swoop before holding it out to her.

  “Don’t worry about it” he reiterated softly. “Now that we know what he’s after, we can stop him.”

  Tasia stared back at him numbly.

  “Trust me” the gold eyes were steady and his voice, very confident.

  She did, Tasia knew. When it came to this stuff, he was always upfront and straightforward.

  “It’s just that if the Guardian found out about me, then so can others” she said slowly. Like the Clan! To be hunted by Blutsaugers was a terrifying prospect for if they discovered who her father was, there was a good chance that they’d be able to guess what her mother had been.

  Raoul watched the gamut of expressions on her face. And suddenly it him why she feared the leeches so much.

  “You fear the leeches your father once worked for” he said shrewdly. Tasia didn’t respond to his statement but the look on her face made it clear that he’d hit the nail on its head. “They don’t know about you yet” he reassured her. “And we’ll just have to make sure that they continue to remain unaware.”

  “What makes you believe that they don’t know about me already?” Tasia’s voice was determinedly even, afraid to even contemplate the possibility. She feared the vampires but not for the reason the Alpha assumed. The Blutsaugers had disliked her father but they feared her mother’s kind. And she had inherited from her mother the very ability that would make the Blutsaugers come after her with everything they had.

  “When leeches hunt, they’re relentless and they don’t rest until they have their prey” Raoul said confidently. “If they were hunting you, you’d know. They tend to be obsessive about revenge.”

  Tasia sighed softly, relieved by his words. The Blutsaugers would snuff out her life for reasons far greater than revenge if they ever found out who she was. Her eyes fell on the book he still held out to her. Tasia accepted it with a murmur of thanks and Raoul leaned back against his chair once more.