by Ivy Asher
A good portion of the shifters have already shifted into their wolf forms, where they eagerly wait to get going. I focus on them, and the different features and colors of fur that mark them as individuals instead of looking too closely at those who are still standing around in the buff. Apparently, they like to shift more last minute or mid-run, Torrez informed me.
The wolves all vary in size and color, but each of them exudes a wild power and an undeniable predatory prowess. With each individual that shifts, more wild magic permeates the air, and I feel it start to soak into me. The feral power mingles with my Sentinel magic, and the swirl sends a chill running down my spine and urgency through my blood. I find myself feeling restless and ready to put my muscles to work. A wolf scuffle breaks out next to me, and the horse-sized gray wolf that is Torrez, growls out a warning that puts an immediate stop to the aggression.
A distant howl rings out and rises to the stars, and all the wolves tilt their heads back and answer the call. Abandoning all self-consciousness, I point my face to the sky and let out my own answering howl. Torrez’s gray wolf bumps up against me, and I push at his huge frame and grumble about him keeping his hands and paws to himself. I wonder offhandedly where Mave and Pebble are, but I have no time to focus on that, as the wolves around me begin to lope in the direction that their Alpha leads the pack.
The pace starts out slow. The wolves in front of the group begin to lengthen their strides and pick up speed and soon the whole pack is hurtling through the densely clustered trees. I run full out, but their four legs easily outpace my two, and I start to fall behind. I call on some extra power from my runes, and as it spurs on my muscles, I start darting through the wolves that are bringing up the rear. Torrez stays with me the whole time, and I can feel his excitement as I push more magic into my legs and pick up speed.
Brisk wind whips my hair back behind me, and I feel a flush rise in my cheeks. All around me wolf paws hit almost silently against the forest floor. The sound of fur brushing against trees, the thudding of my steps, and panting, are the only sounds that surround me, as I find a steady pace in the middle of the pack. Out here, in the moonlight-streaked forest, I feel the pack’s connection to each other and to the land, in a surprising way.
My glimpse at their connection fills me with a keen sense of longing and accentuates how much of an outsider I am. Frost-kissed air moves in and out of my lungs and I pump my arms and legs in a soothing tempo. The smile on my face is automatic, I love pushing my body, but this is so much more than that. I feel wild, predatory, and free in such a unique way. With each press of my feet into the rich soil, with each mouthful of crisp mountain air, I let go.
I shed the stress and confusion of the past few days. I press down against the longing for my Chosen. I uncoil the choking heartache of losing Talon and strip away the pain left by Lachlan. I feel it all just fall away as I focus on the here and now; on this moon-kissed run with a pack of shifters. I feel lighter and lighter with each stretched stride. Torrez pushes to move faster, and I meet his challenge, reveling in the power and speed. Soon I find myself weaving my way to the front, to run side by side with the Alpha and the rest of his Betas.
Torrez looks over at me, and I don’t miss the hint of a wolfish grin as we make our way through the night in tandem. I resolve myself to the fact that I’m going to have nip whatever he thinks is happening between us in the bud. I’m just not sure exactly how to do that. I thought I was being clear earlier when I told him that he had no chance, that I was taken.
But I’m getting the distinct impression that he’s taking that as a challenge or some kind of game of playing hard to get. I have no idea what is happening in this town. Am I leaking some kind of magic pheromones or something? I know it’s not my winning personality pulling all these guys in, so just what in the hell is it?
I notice the faintest change in the energy all around me, and Alpha Silas cuts across the pack and starts charging in a completely different direction. With ease, the pack falls into step behind him, but there’s an edgy feel to the collective movement now. Tongues no longer loll happily out of the mouths of carefree and relaxed wolves as they enjoy a pack run. Focused eyes and tightening muscles replace the easy gaits of before. I start scanning our surroundings trying to pick up on what’s setting them off.
I don’t sense or spot it at first. But the sound of branches snapping and a gruff huffing as heavy steps move away from us, has me locating a cinnamon colored mass about fifty feet in front of us. Are they hunting a bear? Alpha Silas begins to growl, and the hairs on my body immediately stand up and pay attention to the warning.
He presses harder to close the distance between the pack and the huge fleeing animal, which is no easy task. I had no idea that bears could move that fast. Although, a pack of hunting wolves could probably motivate the laziest of animals to Usain Bolt it out of their way. Torrez starts to press in against me, and I move away from him to keep from tripping and going ass over face into the dirt or getting trampled by the horse-sized gray wolf.
I realize after he does it a couple more times that I’m being herded away from the pack and their prey. I guess the invitation to run with them didn’t include hunting with them too. I try to bat away my momentary disappointment. It would’ve been awesome to see how the pack dealt with such a ferocious challenger. Yeah, the bear is running now, but it’ll start to fight when there’s nothing else it can do.
Torrez gives me one more nudge in the opposite direction, and I turn to glare at him. Alright! I fucking get it, already. The words die in my mouth as a flash of golden blond hair streaks away from me to my right. I immediately shift to follow it. Torrez doesn’t seem to have caught what I just saw, and he breaks away to rejoin the hunt with his alpha.
I know I should call out to him, alert him to what I’m pursuing, but he’s gone in a flash, and everything inside of me is demanding that I don’t lose sight of my new prey. Flashes of the big, blond, viking-esque lamia standing in the cellar when I was tied to a chair crash through me. I pump my legs and arms harder as I fight to keep up with Sorik as he careens through the trees away from me. I stay on him. It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to lose me, and that immediately sets off more alarms in my mind and has me on guard.
I pant as I press even harder in an attempt to gain on him, while simultaneously trying to be aware of anything that’s sneaking up on me from behind. I activate the runes on the helix of my ear, so I have the extra advantage of being able to hear everything around me better. This is a trap. It has to be, but rage over what happened the last time I saw him in that cellar stokes me as I close in on the golden-haired lamia.
Sorik takes a sharp left turn and dashes behind a huge dead tree trunk. I follow without hesitation but slam to a stop when Sorik is suddenly crouched amidst a small copse. His arms are outstretched, and he mumbles something as he slowly rises from his hunched position. His arms steadily rise up until he claps his hands together. The sound is booming, in the otherwise stillness of the night, and a magical barrier flashes up from the ground to dome over us.
What the fuck! Did he just use magic?
16
I stare at him in complete shock for a second before I get my shit together and call on some weapons. Twin short swords become solid in each of my hands, and Sorik’s eyes dart to them before he fixes his gaze on mine. His eyes are filled with something I can’t place.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” he reassures me.
He raises his hands in surrender, like that somehow is all I’ll need to trust him.
“How the fuck did you raise a barrier? I thought lamia didn’t have magic like that?”
I should probably be asking him what the hell he’s doing here or something along those lines, but all I can focus on is the fact that this hulking lamia just used magic like a caster.
“We can’t. Normally. That’s why I’m here.”
Sorik drops his hands to the hem of his shirt and starts to pull it up.
"Whoa
, Magic Mike. This isn't that kind of party." I avert my eyes just to the side so his strip show isn’t in focus, but I can still track if he’s going to attack. I’m not sure what the hell this lamia is up to. What the fuck kind of trap is this? Get me alone and strip? Fucking magic pheromones, is no one immune?
"Sorry, it's probably just the easiest way to explain what's going on," he tells, me as he whips his shirt over his head. His long golden locks cascade behind him as he pulls his head free of the fabric.
I stare at him completely dumbfounded. "What in the actual fuck is going on?"
Sorik has runes.
He has three runes set between his pecs and runes that run down in a line on both sides of his ribs. I take an automatic step forward, my eyes wide with confusion as I try to take in what I'm seeing. I look down to his hands seeking the runes that should decorate his ring fingers, but the skin there looks damaged—burnt maybe.
"How?"
I can only manage to squeak out that one syllable. I run my gaze over the runes on his body, over and over again. Does this mean what I think it does?
"Grier and I didn't think that a transference was possible. She had never heard of it occurring outside of either the Sentinel or a caster bond. We loved each other, and we thought we were being careful. No one knew. But then this happened."
He gestures to the runes running between his pecs.
"She marked you?" I ask, and he nods.
“We both panicked when the Chosen marks showed up. It meant that what Adriel had been trying to do for decades was actually possible. Up until that point, Grier had thought that no matter what he did to her, there was no way he could take from her what he wanted. But I was suddenly proof that everything she had been told was wrong."
Sorik's eyes fill with a deep sadness, and it reaches into me and tugs at my own.
"I tried to cut off the runes on my fingers. All the others could be hidden, but those runes gave us away. My skin kept regenerating until I finally burned the runes off and sealed the injury with shifter saliva, which is toxic to us."
Sorik's admission sends me back to the night that Talon died, when he told me something similar. ‘They've been dosing me with shifter toxin. It's keeping me from healing.’ Talon’s voice echoes around my head, and I have to shake myself out of the memory and refocus. Sorik’s runes on his ribs are the same as mine, and it dawns on me that he must have weapons like I do. It seems my mother also passed Defensive magic on to him, too, judging by the good-sized barrier we’re currently standing under.
I let go of my short swords, letting the magic in them get reabsorbed by my runes. I run my hands over my face, exhausted and exasperated, and not at all sure what to think about any of this. A howl breaks the silence surrounding us, and our meeting takes on a more urgent tone.
"Is my dad still alive?"
"I honestly don't know. I felt it when Grier passed, but I never felt anything like that after. Maybe the connection only works from Grier to her Chosen. If that’s the case, I wouldn't have felt if anything had happened to Vaughn. I just don't know. I haven't seen him in all these years, nor have I heard Adriel talk about him at all.”
At the mention of Adriel's name, I stiffen.
Another howl pierces the night, this one closer than the last. Are they done hunting already?
"Vinna, you're not safe here," Sorik tells me. "He's coming for you. I don't know how, but he's arranging something. You need to leave."
I look at Sorik for a minute and then out into the shadows just to the left of him, sensing something there.
"I have nowhere to go. Even if I did, what's to keep him from finding me? Tell me where I am one hundred percent safe, and I’ll consider running, but until then...”
Sorik looks away, and I’m not sure if it’s because the answer is nowhere, or because he’s trying to think of somewhere.
“Let Adriel come. I’m not without my defenses. I’ll work and train. I'll be ready for him."
Sorik steps closer to me, causing me to automatically tense. I can see that the reaction bothers him and he doesn’t come any closer.
"You look so much like them both. I still can’t decide which you take after more, Vaughn or Grier. The first time I saw you I couldn't stop staring. You were laughing and dancing with your Chosen. It’s good that you have them. Your mother hoped that somehow, someday you would be surrounded by such strength.”
Sorik’s voice grows softer as he talks about my mother. It makes me ache for not only my loss of her but his too. He lifts his hand as if he’s going to touch me but immediately drops it. To his left, out of the shadows, another lamia appears. He’s the epitome of the unsettling perfect beauty that all lamia are. This one has olive-toned skin, stunning crystal-blue eyes, and brown hair that’s short on the sides and spiked up and slightly over. I instantly flash my short swords back into my hands and crouch defensively.
“Sorik, we need to go,” the new lamia warns.
“Who the fuck is this?” I ask, my tone accusing and suspicious.
“He’s a friend, Vinna, and you can trust him.”
“I’m not even sure I can trust you. So you vouching for some other lamia, who just crept in on our conversation, is not doing a whole lot for me,” I challenge.
Sorik seems unfazed by my words, as his head snaps to the right and tilts in a way that tells me he's listening to something. I look in the same direction, my runes on the helix of my ear still activated. I try to pinpoint what has him pausing. I hear a couple growls and the soft sound of padded paws hitting damp dirt.
“Sorik, you need to go. If they find you on their land, they will probably tear you to shreds without question.”
Sorik looks at his friend and then back to me, his face is filled with an impenetrable sadness.
“I'm sorry about Talon,” he whispers. “I couldn't stop them. Not without giving myself away.”
Images of Sorik standing by, while Faron tortured Talon in that cellar, stab at my mind and heart. I stare at the big, golden-haired lamia, and I question if anything he says can be trusted. Why would it matter if he gave himself away? My mother is dead. Vaughn probably is too. Who is left to protect? I push down all the sudden doubts and suspicions that fill me. I’ll look at them later, but right now Sorik and his buddy need to leave. Slowly, I nod my head in understanding, hoping the action will give him what he needs to go.
"I’ll come back. When I have a better plan for how to keep you safe, I’ll send for you. I have some things set in motion, but unfortunately, it’s going to take more time.”
“Sorik, now!” The blue-eyed lamia demands.
Multiple wolf howls pierce through the other lamia’s order, and Sorik pulls his shirt on back over his head. He stares at me like he wants to say something else. But instead, he turns and runs through the barrier and out into the shadows of the night. The magic of the barrier shatters all around him, and the darkness gradually overtakes the light of the fading magic.
I release my hold on my weapons. I have no idea how to process what the fuck just happened or what Sorik’s revelation means for me. Sentinels can transfer magic outside of Sentinel and caster bloodlines.
Holy shit!
Is this why Sentinels went into hiding and never resurfaced? Was it more than the fact that they were being murdered? Were they being forced to bind and transfer their magic to anyone strong enough to take it? Can Sentinels even be forced to mark and transfer their magic? Fuck! I really need to read that tablet the Readers left me!
Torrez is the first wolf to find me. He breaks into the clearing and drops his nose to the ground. He sniffs all around me, letting out a low growl followed by a whine. His huge wolf body nudges up against me, but I'm too numb and overwhelmed by everything that just happened to respond in any way. Alpha Silas breaks through the trees and skids to a stop next to Torrez. His wolf is black as coal, and his eyes glow yellow and reflective. Several other wolves lope in behind him and move to surround me. There’s no sign of the rest of th
e pack.
Torres and Silas both shift in front of me, and I blame shock for not looking away.
"Are you okay?" Torrez asks me.
"Where is it?"
Torrez's question is flanked by Silas’s, and I'm not sure who to answer first. I run my fingers through my hair, not sure what to say or how to respond. A brown wolf circles us, he gives a yip, and two other wolves break away from the cluster surrounding me and head in the direction that Sorik and his friend ran away.
Torrez places his hands on the outside of my arms and leans down. His looming face breaks up the image of the wolves who are now hunting down my mother's other Chosen. What does that make him to me? Another dad? An uncle? Lachlan’s face flashes through my mind, and I immediately shut down my train of thought. I refocus on the smooth tan face and dark brown eyes in front of me.
"He's gone. It's fine. I’m fine."
I try to pull away from Torrez's tightening hold, but he doesn't let me. His grip is firm on my upper arms as he turns to his Alpha.
“Were they working together? One distracts, while the other moves in on her?”
Silas looks me over as he contemplates Torrez’s cryptic question. “What did the leeches say to you, Vinna? Why do you look so…” Silas’ nostrils flare, and he breathes deeply before continuing. “...unnerved?”
I meet his questioning gaze and debate what to do. They can smell lies. So there’s really no point in trying to come up with some kind of cover-up for what just happened. I go with vague.
“It’s nothing you should worry about. It has nothing to do with you or your pack.”
Silas narrows his eyes at my lacking explanation. He folds his big arms over his chest, his stubborn body language matching the tone of my dismissive explanation.
“Leeches just breached our territory for the first time in pack history. I’d say that has everything to do with me and my pack. What just happened should’ve been impossible, and that’s definitely something worth worrying about. I don’t see, or scent, any ash, which means they were here with a good enough reason to convince you to let them live. Now, I’ll ask you again, what did they want?”
