Marked by the Alpha Wolf; Part 1

by Scarlett Grove

  Hecate’s eyes twitched as Circe called. Vesta gasped in her physical body and sank into the mental state of meditation.

  “Circe, sister, what has become of you?” asked Hecate. “Why have you been silent so long?”

  “We’ve been searching for you,” said Vesta.

  “I apologize, my dear sisters. Much has transpired since we last spoke. The danger you warned me of has come to pass. The leader of the San Diego compound, the dragon shifter, lost his mind and took me captive.” The colors of Vesta and Hecate’s minds whirled with black and dark blue, tinted with splotches of red. “Don’t fret. He has come back to his mind. We have both been transformed and now have a kind of symbiosis. We travel to the sea to speak with the dryads there in order to learn more about our power together.”

  “What symbiosis, Circe? Why are you in symbiosis with a dragon? What does this mean?”

  “I have been transformed, as has Xavier. I no longer have a witch’s look and have regained my pigment but have lost my grab spell. I have some intensified healing and herbalism abilities, and those abilities seem to amplify Xavier’s dragon fire. It is no longer fire when I feed energy into him. It is a kind of explosive acid fire, extremely potent and powerful. We’ve been informed by the dryads and my spirit guide that we are to heal the dragons of their psychosis and he is to lead them against the Anu. But right now, Xavier falls sick each time he shifts. No matter how many healing herbs I give him or how much healing energy I run into his body, he cannot shift without being stricken.”

  “This is an interesting development,” mused Vesta. “Will you be coming home to us, Circe?”

  “I want to, my dear sisters. I miss you so much. I never meant to be silent for so long. My friends have probably liberated the dome by now, and I have no idea what has become of them. The truth is that I’ve been ill too. Using my seeking meditations has been too tiring as of late. This is the first time I’ve felt well enough to use them since the first day he took me.”

  “Circe, this is not safe for you. Better you come home now,” said Vesta.

  “I cannot. This is my destiny. I must fulfill it. I must help bring down the Anu. I hope to come for you soon. There may be a place in this for the two of you. But for now, there is no way for me to get you.”

  Circe could feel her mind growing dark. The exertion of the meditation weighed down on her as if she’d been running for hours. She began to pull back.

  “I must go now, sisters. My eternal love is with you. Pray to the universe for my safety.” With that, she shot back across the miles and snapped into her body.

  Her eyes felt swollen and rimmed with heat. She opened them slowly to see the lake tinted red. Blinking several times to bring the world into focus, she breathed deeply as a tear trickled down her cheek. She missed her sister witches fiercely. Shifters might have thought covens were collections of dark-minded demons, but the truth was that witches loved each other and were fiercely loyal to their group. Perhaps some covens somewhere were dangerous and cruel, though she doubted it was as much as some would suggest, but the witches she knew were women of great integrity and trust.

  She stood, picking up the bucket, and quickly sat back down. Her head swam, and blackness clouded the corners of her eyes. She took a deep breath and moaned with irritation. She could not be sick again. This wouldn’t do at all. She had far too much to do to be nearly fainting after a simple astral meditation.

  Circe’s mind lurched uncontrollably. Brain-wave frequencies shot up and down, making her feel as if she were losing her mind. Hallucinations popped up in front of her. Women danced naked on the lake’s surface, laughing as their long black hair whirled around their pale bodies.

  She covered her eyes with her hands and tried to control her breathing as she rested her head between her knees. In the fog of her mind, she heard footsteps behind her. She looked up, nearly blacking out from the exertion. A tall, shadowy figure approached her, but she could do nothing to defend herself.

  “What’s wrong?” said a deep male voice. Xavier. He would help her. She fainted.

  The next thing she knew, she was in the back of the truck as it bumped along the road. She sat up, her mind still in a fog. Outside, the sun shone brightly on the greenery. They’d traveled far, and the landscape had taken on a distinctly different aspect. Just as she was going to ask Xavier where they were, she saw the first glimpse of the ocean over a yellow hillside past a line of deep-green, windswept cypress.

  They passed through a small coastal town, and Xavier stopped the pickup at a gas station. Circe hopped out of the back of the truck and strode over to where Xavier was searching.

  “Are we out of gas?” she asked, concerned. The bears had only given them one canister of gas. Without the fuel, finding the elusive redwood dryads would be even more difficult than it already was proving to be.

  “Almost. How are you feeling? You gave me a scare back there.”

  “My head is clear now.”

  Xavier bustled around the gas station, breaking a window to get inside the tiny market. She followed him as he searched around the office and then in the garage before finding a large wrench. He looked satisfied and walked back outside.

  “What happened back there, anyway?” he asked as he pried at a manhole cover.

  “I went into meditation to speak with my sisters. Obviously, I’m not strong enough for astral travel yet.”

  He got the manhole open and peered inside. The smell of gasoline wafted up from underground. Xavier smiled triumphantly and climbed down a short ladder to the tank. He cranked off the lid and dropped the end of a long tube inside. After he climbed back up, he sucked on the other end of the tube and then pointed it inside their gas can.

  “I’m surprised this gas station hasn’t been broken into,” said Circe.

  “Maybe everyone around here died in the pulses,” he said as he transferred the hose to a second gas can.

  “Maybe,” she said, feeling there was something odd about this region. Almost every gas station and store had been looted in the first months after the war. The remaining mutants had made quick work of gathering all the last of the old-world resources, and little was left five years after the apocalypse.

  Xavier pulled the tube from the underground tank and capped the two full gas cans. He replaced the lid and the manhole cover, saying they might be able to use it later on their way home. Circe doubted it would matter. Something felt wrong, as if eyes were on her, burning into the back of her neck.

  Chapter 20

  Xavier filled the tank in the truck and strapped the cans to the roof rack to avoid filling their things with the scent of gas. Circe got in the passenger seat and pulled out some food as Xavier drove further north along the coast.

  It didn’t take long before the highway wound into a deep wood where towering redwood trees dominated the landscape. Circe looked up in wonder. She’d seen these trees before, having gone camping during her college years, but they still amazed her. Some of the oldest trees were more than three thousand years old and were as tall as the Empire State Building before it had been blown up. Massive sword ferns grew over the red, needle-covered ground between deep-red, car-length–wide tree trunks, and pale-green moss hung in tendrils from the high branches.

  Circe and Xavier ate crackers and jerky and drank the freshly cleaned water Circe had gathered that morning. After an hour of driving through the magnificent forest, Xavier stopped for a short bathroom break at a roadside rest stop. The bathrooms were unusable, so Circe traipsed out into the woods to take care of business.

  After she relieved herself, she began walking back to the truck. A conspiracy of ravens swooped in around her, squawking and screaming as if she’d disturbed their roost. Her heart leapt in her chest. This was no ordinary flock of birds. She could feel their hot eyes and active minds searching her.

  They took turns swooping in, shrieking and cawing. Circe screamed and batted at them, but it did little to defend her from the onslaught. She could s
ee Xavier bounding toward her through the woods with the pistol in hand, his figure partially obscured by the writhing mass of ravens. She screamed again as one nipped her cheek.

  Xavier was soon caught up in the swirling maelstrom of black bodies. He fell to his back with a short yell, the pistol flying out of reach.

  “What are these things?” he shouted over the deafening cawing.

  “They are raven shifters,” Circe shouted back. “I can sense it, but not what they want. My guess is that they are angry we invaded their territory.”

  The swirling mass slowed as the ravens landed around them in a circle. As if on cue, they each shifted, growing taller, black feathers giving way to various skin tones. The shifters stood around Circe and Xavier, their black eyes staring down at the witch and dragon who had fallen on their asses on the ground.

  “What are you doing here?” asked an elderly woman, her white hair hanging in tendrils down her olive-colored, wrinkled skin. A tall, pale-skinned male with red hair stood behind her, his rippling muscles and broad shoulders covered in freckles.

  A black-haired woman with deep-brown skin poked Circe’s shoulder and demanded she stand up. The redheaded man pushed at Xavier. The flock surrounded them and ushered them deeper into the forest.

  “What are you doing here?” the elderly woman repeated.

  “I’ve come to find the dryads of these woods,” said Circe, indignant.

  “Dryads don’t live in our woods,” said the black-haired woman.

  “Your woods?” Circe said, laughing.

  The entire flock turned to her as if of one mind. They frowned. “This is our forest,” they said in one voice. A shiver went down Circe’s spine. She’d never encountered raven shifters before. Their mental connection in human form was beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  “How vast is your territory?” asked Xavier. He didn’t have much patience for small creatures like these throwing their weight around. As a fire dragon, he could lay waste to their entire forest in one pass. If he wouldn’t fall down with fever the second he shifted back, Circe would be the first to suggest he do that.

  “We dominate the entire north coast,” said the old woman. The flock turned back around and began marching. Some had picked up sticks and were using them to poke Circe and Xavier. She had no idea what they wanted. Would they murder them? Eat them? Having no experience with raven shifters, she had no clue what their intentions might be.

  “Where are you taking us?” Circe demanded.

  “Shut up,” said the old woman. A blond woman slapped Circe upside the head. Circe cried out, and Xavier growled. Circe could taste blood in her mouth and could see Xavier slowly shifting. She touched his arm and shook her head. He needed to heal more. They might escape these idiot birds, but they would end up with a worse situation on their hands if he fell ill again.

  As they marched through the forest, Circe let her mind open itself to the various plants, trees, and herbs she had not yet encountered with her expanded herbalism ability. Information about each plant downloaded into her mind, creating a vast storehouse of knowledge about the forest. She passed one little plant. Along its long stem, spear-like leaves grew opposite each other and little white flowers bloomed at the center. Solomon’s seal. Polygonatum multiflorum. Used traditionally to treat musculoskeletal problems, broken bones, and arthritis.

  The magical quality of the plant, however, suited her needs perfectly. Solomon’s seal was a cure for metamorphosis illness. A cure! The active saponins in the plant’s roots acted as a tonic to the entire system, from blood to bones to hormonal balance. It would heal them both with one decoction. Circe gasped as the knowledge poured into her.

  She wanted to grab the plant as she passed, but the group of angry ravens pushed them on. Xavier was seconds away from rebelling and flying into a rage fit for a dragon shifter. She leaned in close to his ear.

  “I’ve found the cure,” she whispered.

  He looked down at her, his cobalt eyes gleaming with inner fire. He growled, showing elongated canine teeth. She shook her head as if to tell him not to shift. He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. He wouldn’t put up with this for much longer.

  “I don’t want to have to give it to you when you are down. It’s better if we use it while we are both still well.”

  “I don’t see what difference it makes,” said Xavier, loud enough for the ravens to hear him. The big redhead pushed Xavier’s back, and Xavier spun around, ready to fight.

  “No!” Circe yelped.

  The old woman stopped in front of them, her frown deepening the lines around her mouth. “You two will come with us. We have questions.”

  “Questions,” repeated the rest of the group.

  “This is stupid,” Xavier said to Circe. “Why are we putting up with this treatment?”

  “Just wait, Xavier, please.” Circe’s voice cracked with desperation. She didn’t want to see him sick again. Going with the ravens and biding her time was a small price to pay to avoid that.

  Chapter 21

  Xavier growled as the ravens pushed him forward, but he didn’t shift. Circe hoped his patience would last long enough for her to find a way to get him the medicine they both needed to put an end to the metamorphosis illness.

  The ravens pushed them onward through the thick forest, which was dripping with moss and overgrown with man-sized sword ferns. The absence of humans in the world had allowed the forests to thrive in the last five years, and Circe could feel the deep life-force energy coming from the dense vegetation. It was even more vital than the mountain forests of the Sierra Nevadas.

  They came to a clearing where golden light streamed through the canopy onto a green meadow dotted with wildflowers. On the other side of the clearing, Circe could see a multitude of tree houses built around a complex of ancient, towering redwoods.

  The trees’ bases were each nearly thirty feet wide. Around the trunks, about twenty feet above ground, intricate houses built of wood, mud, and stone circled each tree. A series of suspension bridges connected the individual buildings, creating a vast network of homes.

  Above the tree houses, other ravens flew about. Some roosted, and some cawed at the approaching outsiders. Circe drew a breath, wondering what the ravens wanted. She couldn’t understand their motivations. She had no experience or knowledge of such groups and was utterly lost in reading their culture.

  What she was certain of was that there were close to a hundred of these beings in various stages of shift. The complex of tree houses went on as far as the eye could see, and the ravens circling above created a dense cloud of black, writhing bodies.

  Circe and Xavier were tied up with ropes, and the ravens in human form above them pulled the ropes using pulleys. They were hoisted up to the platform above, untied, and pushed down a ramp to a small room that looked like it could be the raven-shifter version of an office.

  There were chairs made of thick, polished branches and a desk constructed from a massive burl. Circe and Xavier were pushed into the chairs, and the old woman sat behind the desk. The dark-skinned woman brought the leader a black robe that looked like a witch’s robe. The sight of it made Circe’s heart hurt, reminding her of her sisters.

  “What do you want from us?” asked Xavier, already irritated and ready to break free.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We told you that already. We’ve come to seek the redwood dryads. We have questions for them,” Circe said, cutting Xavier off from saying something that might get them in more trouble.

  “What are you two?” asked the old woman. “None of us can make it out.”

  Birds didn’t have the same kind of scent detection as mammals. Circe and Xavier’s identities would remain a secret as long as they kept their mouths shut. Circe looked at Xavier, who looked bored, annoyed, and on the verge of shifting. She could see the bulge of his canine teeth above his upper lip.

  She drew her brows together and glanced back at the old woman. What was th
e best tactic? Full disclosure? Lies? What did these ravens even want? Was it merely a matter of territory? Why not just run them off, then? Perhaps they wanted information about the outside world in the same way the bears did.

  Circe weighed her options and determined the best course of action.

  “Are you aware that the war was staged by an alien race called the Anu?” she asked matter-of-factly.

  “Of course. Do you take me for an idiot?”

  “And did you know they are in league with the corporation that runs the domes where human children are kept?”

  “Yes. We ravens have our way of gathering information. How did you two come across this information?”

  “Where do you stand in the fight against the Anu?”

  The question seemed to send the woman into a nervous tizzy. She shuddered like a bird shaking its feathers, and every other raven shifter within range made the same nervous motion. Circe wondered what it meant.

  The woman slammed her fist down on the table. “Those bastards must die.”

  At least they were on the same page about that. “Well, you should know that my friend and I are on a mission to destroy the Anu, their domes, and their human lackeys. What do you think of that?”

  “How?” asked the woman, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

  “My friend and I have a special power that the dryads will help us develop and further unlock. Plus, we have extremely powerful friends.”

  “Really? What is this power you speak of? Show me.”

  “We can’t show you because it would blow your house to pieces,” said Xavier, standing. Circe could see his wings threatening to tear through the back of his shirt.

  “We need a Solomon’s seal plant!” Circe said. “Then we can show you.”

  “Why?” asked the old woman. She closed one eye and looked at them with the other one, bulging and black.