by Liv Brywood
As I cast my mind back through the years, and then the decades of loneliness, a blush rises to heat my cheeks. I stamp down the temptation to clutch the bear tooth. It would bring him to my door, and I could take him into my bed.
I shake my head. No. It can’t be done. I need to focus on the crows.
After searching through my books, I find nothing. The few books in my library don’t contain any answers which would explain the attack.
Bastian’s note burns in the fire. My irritation rises with the flames. I know where there are more books—hundreds more books, shelves three times as tall as a man. But the books are guarded by a particular wolf—Kael.
He was a young challenger for the position of Alpha when I knew him 20 years ago. He was just a young man with a mean streak and a need for control. As he rose through the ranks of the Bonfire pack, we’d clashed and argued over various issues. We even fought when he tried to move his pack onto my land. His attempt to intimidate me into an alliance didn’t end well for him. I kicked him off my land and told him never to return unless he wanted me to turn him into a worm. The years have doubtlessly made Kael worse.
Nonetheless, I need answers.
Outside, crows perch on the ruined tree near the cottage door. My stomach fills with dread, banishing all thoughts of lunch or tea.
I want answers. I want this resolved.
I wave a hand to summon my clothes. As I dress, I steel myself for the fight to come.
Bastian must have cleared the path to the cottage as he left this morning. The limbs of the ruined tree are stacked at its base. A murder of crows watches from atop it. I consider a spell of disguise but think the better of it. If the witch possessing the crows thinks I’m unafraid, then I’ll be at a distinct advantage when we inevitably meet.
It’s not a long walk through the woods, maybe three or four miles. The crows fly and squawk behind me the whole way.
I stop to confront them. Silver eyes peer back at me, and a shiver of dread runs down my spine. If they attack, there’s nowhere to hide.
The birds hop and glide from tree to tree in slow tandem with my steps. The woods feel wrong, foreign, devoid of birdsong. An eerie silence and the sense of something dark and evil is pervasive.
They follow silently. Whoever sent them has clearly tasked them to watch anyone that comes or goes from the cottage.
Maybe I shouldn’t go back.
And where would I stay? With Bastian, on the other side of the mountain with the Bear Clan? No. That’s dangerous, deadly, especially now that heat burns between us. The strength of our bond has developed throughout the years, and now I see the inevitability of it. If I were ever to love again, I could love Bastian.
But it’s not to be.
And what about Kael?
I laugh sharply. He’d keep me chained in the den, if he could. When I knew him, his need for control had regularly outweighed his propriety.
Control is less about an iron fist, and more about the confidence that your commands will be followed. It’s a nuance Kael has never understood, but one that every magic user must master. That knowledge creates a wide chasm between us.
The den is past the next cluster of aspens. A turn in the path leads to a beautiful, massive complex set into the side of the mountain. I remember, centuries ago, when the wolves decided to move out of the caves and begin to build. I’m not sure anyone has ever been through all the rooms. It’s a labyrinth. Each generation added a new piece of the puzzle. The den has had construction in progress since I first discovered it. Before my exile, they’d come to me with stones or trees. They needed my spells to give their building materials greater strength so that they could carve tunnels through the mountain.
Something rustles in the underbrush off to my right. My heart kicks. My stomach drops. What else could this enemy have summoned? What other creatures can they control?
A low, lupine growl sounds. A blur of grey bursts forth from the brush. I throw a hand over my head to summon a shield. Facets of quartz rise from the ground on all sides of me to form a protective barrier.
The small, wet nose of a wolf pup smacks into the crystal. The little one folds like an accordion, then bounces off and falls to the ground on its tail, legs splayed. It looks at me in confusion.
“Come here, you little brat,” a gruff voice calls.
Kael strides through the underbrush. His strong shoulders are bare. His focus is on the two wolf pups that trail after their intrepid—sibling?
Are these Kael’s cubs?
He pauses when he sees my shield. I stare at the full expanse of his tanned skin. He’s completely bare. The crystals refract a rainbow of colors across his naked flesh. Blues shimmer across his rugged face. Greens cascade across his thick neck and broad shoulders. Yellows trace a trail of dark hair that stars just below his belly button and down his toned stomach. Oranges splay across the vee of his hips like worshipful fingers. And then red that leads down, down, to the culmination of those hips in a thatch of dark hair, the strength of his thighs, and the thickness of his—
A blush in full power sprints up my cheeks. I reach out a finger, shatter my crystal shield into a hundred pieces, and banish the shards before they can hit the ground. A wolf pup trots up to my leg to beg for attention.
“Christian, knock it off.”
Kael strides over, clearly unconcerned about the lack of clothes. I refuse to gaze upon his back as he bends to scoop up the pup.
“This one has too much energy.” He tucks Christian under one arm before scooping up the other pups in his other arm. As Christian’s siblings squirm for freedom, my heart melts.
Kael settles a hand under Christian’s fat little stomach, lifts him to eye level. “You behave or I’ll give your chicken bone to Carmen tonight.”
The top puppy under his other arm stops its wiggling. Her ears prick, eyes brighten, and her pink little tongue lolls out happily. Carmen, then.
Christian settles in with a sad whine. Kael eyes him and then lifts his chin. Christian gives it a little lick. Kael smirks, sets him at his feet, and Christian sits quietly.
I’ve never seen Kael so relaxed. So soft. Not that there’s an inch on him that’s particularly soft.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asks with more than a hint of sarcasm. “From the head witch, no less.”
I purse my lips and look into the trees. “I’m not the head of anything. You could stand to put some clothes on.”
“I didn’t pack any for my shift. Why, does it bother you?” A devilish grin forms dimples in his cheeks.
“Of course you didn’t,” I grumble.
“What I do on my land’s my business. Isn’t that the line you gave me way back when?”
My teeth grit. “Apparently, courtesy’s still not one of your virtues.”
“Courtesy’s a cheap form of deference. I’m Alpha here, and you’re the most powerful witch around. We’re equals, so why should I be overly courteous? What do you want?”
Kael drives me mad, in more ways than one. He’s disrespectful, rude, and a hard ass. And he’s never once been afraid to treat me like an equal—a rarity I’ve found only a handful of times through the years. For that, I grudgingly accept him as an equal, but I haven’t told him so. No, that would stroke his ego far too much for my liking.
“I’m here to respectfully request you let me use your library.”
“You’ve got your own library—dammit, knock it off Carina.”
After he pries one pup’s ear out from between the teeth of the other, he drops the two wolf pups to the ground. Carina yips, jumps on Christian, and they start to tussle. They roll into a mud puddle.
“And now you need a bath. Your mom’ll be so pleased.” He passes me Carmen and barely looks to make sure I’ve got a hold on the pup before prying the other two apart by the scruffs of their necks. I very pointedly don’t study his backside as he bends. Instead, I force my attention to the sweet, gentle pup flopped over my forearm. She looks
at me and licks at my chin.
Kael’s eyes are sharp as he watches that little motion. “You want the library? Help me.”
He strikes off around a curve in the path, dirty pups in hand. Mud drips from both of their fuzzy backsides.
There’s no way to escape the view of his backside, as we march through the door of the wolf den. There’s not a speck of mud on the floor. It looks as if it’s been freshly swept.
He shouts for his second. Mason, a strong man, tall with blonde hair and green eyes, and built like a whip, appears. He’s fast and light on his feet. He tuts when he sees the messy pups.
“Take these guys to Hima, would you?”
Mason grabs them gingerly. Carina squirms, gets her muddy little paws all over the front of his shirt. He gives a deep, tired sigh. “She’s asleep right now. She had a rough night last night.” He lifts Carina to eye level. “Unsurprising, with you around. Nursery?”
“I don’t want the mud in there. Go find Viren, tell him he could stand to spend more time with his kids.”
Not Kael’s pups.
He shakes some mud from one of his hands. “Baths are time, right?”
Mason nods. Carmen wiggles in my arms and yips until I put her down. She trots behind Mason and whines softly to say she wants to be carried too.
Kael’s tone is judgmental, but his smile and his eyes are soft. “They’re spoiled brats. They’re the only pups we’ve had in the last few years. Everyone gives them whatever they want.”
“Clean clothes by the fire, boss.” Mason’s shout rings in the tiled hallway.
“Follow me,” Kael says.
I follow him to the hearth.
“So, why the sudden need for the library?” He yanks a pair of pants off the line before the fire and slides them on.
“I’m interested in the possession of animal groups.”
Kael’s head snaps up. “Possession of groups? Like a pack?”
“A flock of birds, maybe.”
“What for?”
“I imagine that it would make finding things easier if one had control of many pairs of eyes.”
He cocks his head. “Birds hunt worms and bugs, not the plants you use.”
“There are uses for all forms of life in magic.”
“Are you going dark on me?”
My teeth grit. “Not all magic used to control things is dark. I’ll thank you not to pretend you’ve got a nuanced view of the craft.”
“I’ve got a nuanced view of who should and shouldn’t have information that could harm my pack.”
“When have I ever failed to help your pack? I sent Mason off with potions yesterday. For dirt cheap, I might add.”
His eyes harden. “Then we’ll pay your full price. We don’t need your charity.”
“Pay me in kind. Let me use the library.”
He studies me. His eyes dart from my shoulders to the set of my jaw, to the strip of stomach exposed between my skirt and shirt. Likely an effort to size up the level of threat. He must realize I have no intention of leaving without access to the library.
“Fine. Follow me.”
He leads me to a library. It’s lit by orbs I’d spelled for him years ago. They float across the tall stone ceiling. Mirrors are hung everywhere to reflect the light. Ladders lead up to the higher shelves. Fireplaces burn at a safe distance from the delicate pages, and tables and chairs litter the open spaces between the stacks.
“Back wall, north side is your best bet. It has a lot of old witch tomes, and some grimoires. The only other section that’s useful will be by the door—animal behavior. But I don’t think that’s what you’re here for.”
“It’s not. But thank you, I’ll remember.”
He nods. “I’ll be back to collect you before dark. No visitors when the moon rises.”
“That’s fine.” I’m already focused on the books before me. I turn the corner and disappear into a row before he even gets out the door.
The hunt is long. I search titles, turn pages, climb ladders, read in more languages than I’ve had occasion to in decades. There’s plenty on the possession of humans, demonic possession, some on the sale of souls, the sale of bodies, how to raise and possess the dead. But it’s always one being at a time, and nothing on how to possess animals. All sources say that fusing a single human mind with an animal’s can be done but linking it to many creatures would drive the witch mad. The spell would break immediately.
I slam my last book shut before pushing my agitated hands through my hair. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
I don’t even know a witch who would want to hurt me. Or one who could manage to do it.
Adrian is the only one who comes to mind, but I’d never felt his curse break. He might be dead already. I’ve no proof that my magic made him immortal, only a fear that sits like a stone in my heart.
Someone clears their throat at the end of my table. I nearly jump out of my skin. Lightning sparks from my fingers to the ground in two great blue flashes
“So, you kicked up that nasty storm, huh?”
I meet the deep amber warmth of Kael’s eyes. He’s in a deep blue shirt and dark pants that hug his hips.
“What?”
“It’s dark, and you’ve clearly been here all day.” He gestures at the books scattered on the table, tossed haphazardly, the pages of crumpled notes, the scorch mark on his floor from the lightning. “You hungry?”
Starving, but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to owe him anything, so I stay silent.
“That’s a yes then. All right. Get your shit, come on.” He turns his back to me and moves toward the door.
“What?” I scramble to follow.
He looks back over his shoulder. “No wonder you’re getting nowhere. You can’t think on an empty stomach. Bring your stuff, I’m taking you to dinner.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“No. But it’s what I’ve decided.” He gives me a hard look. “Now come.”
I don’t like his tone, but I don’t like the empty pit of my stomach either. I fix him with a hard look, gather my few useable notes along with my shawl, and follow.
Chapter 4
Kael
I’ve never seen her like this before. Azealia’s the most powerful witch in this town, maybe in the world. I don’t know for sure because the world’s not my purview, but if you need something in Bonfire Falls, something no one else can give you, you go to her. Everyone knows it, not many like it. But there’s no denying her power. She’s got the bite to back up her bark.
She’s been stuck in my head since she denied my pack rights to her land, maybe 20 years ago now. She’d handed my ass to me. I’ve still got a damn nasty scar from one of her hexes, right over my heart.
Figures.
My wolf had been pissed off. He’s always mad about lost fights. It comes with the territory when you’re Alpha of the pack. No one should be stronger than me, but in some ways, she is.
I’d wanted to bind her to me right then and there, even with my ass in the dirt. She’d towered over me. Red hair lifted in her power, skirt wrapped around those lean hips, shirt torn by claws, chest touched with blood. A Valkyrie. A swift and brutal vengeance.
Not my usual game. Women are great packmates, as well as great bedmates for a night. Beyond that, I haven’t had use for a mate. But Azealia… Azealia will be my mate, one way or another. She’s a powerhouse, an equal. Someone who can help me with my plans for this town, this mountain, and more. We’ve been in the shadows too long, and she’s got a light to her like I’ve never seen.
I shake my head at that. I could do without the poetry, but she brings it out in me.
“What?” She looks confused. A little suspicious still.
“Nothing. It’s a little further.”
She looks to the path ahead of us. It’s the main road through town. Bonfire Falls isn’t a big place. It’s comprised of one town square, dozens of residences, and several shops. There’s only one decent restaurant in to
wn. She has to know where we’re headed by now.
Shifters and witches are peaceful, but tense with each other. My pack, the bear clan, and the dragon shifters are allied, but the bonds of alliance are tenuous. The need for power is strong. We’ve all figured it’s better not to pile on top of each other. And the witches? Well, we all remember the wars. We remember what the witches did when some of them chose to embrace dark magic.
The town proper is neutral ground. We all keep it that way. The central fountain, specifically, can never be claimed by any faction. It’s where leaders hold meetings. I’ve been there, tense, bored, and watchful, for far too many of them now.
Azealia never comes. She’s been silent and hidden for years. But we all know the stories and, even without magic, we feel the unwelcoming vibrations from her patch of woods. It’s better to never venture into her territory uninvited.
She glances at the trees on either side of us before scanning the buildings ahead. Her brow knits. If she’s concerned about something, we all should be worried. I don’t know why she’s scared, or why she needed my book. But I’ve seen her drop ten wolves with a wave of her hand. She won’t even break a sweat.
I have no idea what could be worrying Azealia. Something’s clearly got her on edge, and that’s bad news for me, my pack, and all of Bonfire Falls.
We make it to the edge of town. Her stomach growls like a cornered wolf.
“It’s not far.”
“‘Not far’ would have been my cottage.”
“Does your cottage have wild boar stew that’s good enough to make you cry?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Someone bothered with a boar hunt?”
“I brought it down myself.”
She scoffs, and her chest swells with it. “Well, you’ve always been—what would the word be? Pig-headed?”
The woman’s a spitfire. No one’s insulted me in years, and here she is, casual about it. I want that fire. I want her.
I open my mouth to tell her. Better to be blunt about this.
A howl rises from the woods, less than a quarter mile away. One of my pack, Marcus. One of our fastest.
