by R Murray
CALL OF THE WOLF
DARK TRILOGY #1
R MURRAY
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Copyright 2018 by Rebecca Murray.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced. Stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the author.
This is the work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead are purely coincidental.
Cover Design by V Designs
Formatting by Jaye Cox
Editing by Kelly Confer-Stambaugh
Cover image Copyright 2018
Acknowledgments
Here we go again. I have a good few people to thank for this beautiful remake of my first book baby. I feel like a born again author, and I couldn’t do it without the endless support from some good people.
Mum and Dad:
Always there in silent and very loud support, even though we are oceans apart. I cannot thank you enough for all the love you have given me!
Steve and Rosie:
Little brother, and soon to be sister-in-law (I hope) Thank you for all your support. It’s crazy to think that I have finally published a book.
Kelly:
Always there, always supporting. Thank you for editing, guiding and let me brainstorm some crazy ideas!
Mel:
My best bud back home in the UK. Missing you so much girl! Cannot wait for New Year!!
Shannon:
This last month has been a learning curve in marketing and organising for me, and I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you so much for being an amazing PA!
Jaye and Veronique:
You two have made my book look so pretty and perfect. Veronique the covers are beyond anything I could ever imagine, and also my beautiful new logo. Thank you for getting me. Jaye thank you for jumping on bored last minute to make the final product look perfect.
Meg, Jenna and Kim:
You three are special to me in so many ways. From all your support and advice, to letting me into your world or words. Thank you for inspiring me!
Fortunate Forsaken:
My ARC team! Thank you for taking a chance on this book and me, and being so honest. I hope to share many more stories with you.
Forsaken:
My beautiful readers group! Thank you for all your support and embracing the change. Old and new members I am so thankful to have you sharing this journey with me. Excited for 2018 and beyond!
Finally to you the reader. Thank you for purchasing this book, and for supporting my journey. I hope you will stick it out to the end and jump on the other worlds I am about to create.
Dedication
To every single person who dares to dream. Dreams do come true, you just have to believe.
Prologue
16th century France
The smell of death lingered in the air, like a foul blanket of hell as Aleron took a path through the endless bodies that scattered the recent battle field. Bodies of all shapes, sizes, and forms. It did not matter if they were wolves, shifters, vampires or witches they were all still dead. Taken so cruelly from this world, and for what? A want for eternity? A hope to live with the blood of immortality. The blood that only a certain family of Vampires possessed. That family being his. It was world known that the Lamia were the most powerful Vampire clan amongst all of the Forsaken. They ruled France and had done so for many centuries, but Aleron was not ashamed to admit that he did not believe in his brother’s visions. The want to only allow Vampires to live with the Dark Blood of immortality. Aleron longed to have all the Forsaken live in peace, and that should they choose eternal life then it would be granted. Although it was rumoured that the vampires could not turn a wolf. A witch yes, that had been proven just recently, and now the Lamia had the loyalty of the most powerful witch sisters in all the lands. But they could not turn a shifter, a wolf, or any of Mother Nature’s monsters for that matter. Yet Thanatos had failed to mention this to the opposition. Then why would he? All his brother cared about was destroying any creature who was not a vampire, or that was of no use to him, which seemed to be a majority of their universe.
Stopping by the mauled body of one of his fellow vampires, it was clear that a wolf had done this damage, next to him lay the naked form of a man who had no doubt been that wolf. The wolves came from England, it had been centuries that the English and the French had been fighting with each other. The mortals saw it so often, just thinking yet another political disagreement from either side, what they did not know was that in fact it was the longest and deadliest disagreement within the Forsaken world, that was in fact causing these wars. Luckily this particular fight had not leaked out to the mortals, and this recent massacre would be cleared up long before the humans heard anything of it.
Stepping over the dead wolf, Aleron made his way quickly through the remaining carpet of bodies, needing to get away from death. He was a vampire, yes, but unlike the rest of his species he did not crave the smell of death, he did not long for the blood of the humans, he preferred that of animals. He was not a killer. He needed to devise of a way to bring peace to all the Forsaken. These deaths were not needed.
“There is a way.” A rough voice stopped him causing Aleron to turn quickly, his fangs pushing at his gums ready to spring into action should he needed to defend himself. Behind him stood a soul that he had never seen before and if he was honest he hoped he never would again. The creature that stood before him was like no other he had ever seen. Hunched over an old wooden stick, it was cloaked in tattered rags, that just about covered a decaying body. The smell only matched the image, that of an aging corpse, and Aleron had to stop himself from emptying his morning meal on the ground. He was used to the smell of rotting flesh, he had spent many hours down in the Bastille at his brother’s side as Thanatos tortured both the mortals and the non-humans, but that smell was nothing compared to what was in front of him. Black holes were eyes should have been stared straight at him causing him to shiver, as he forced himself to let his own emerald green eyes travel over the face of this thing. If a face was what you could call it. It seemed more like a piece of dried up skin pulled taut over a skull. Blue lips added to the effect of death and Aleron found himself stepping back slightly, his fangs still hovering below the surface of his gums.
“Forgive me. But I do not believe we have met. My name is Aleron. I am…”
“I know who you are Lord Aleron.” The creature interrupted, causing Aleron to bristle slightly at being stopped mid-sentence, just who was this monster? “I do not care for formalities. You want a way to stop this war. To bring piece among your kind. And I am here to tell you there is a way.”
“How did you know? I never spoke my thoughts out loud. Just who are you? I am not inclined to tak
e advice from a stranger who is just about hanging onto life.” Aleron snapped, his anger boiling just below his skin, it taking all his will power to stop himself from becoming the full monster he could become.
“I do not need you to speak you fool. I can step inside the mind of any being, living or dead and read their deepest thoughts. I do not have much time, and I will not waste what little I do have with you. You either want my advice or you do not. I see the future, I know what can happen, should you do as I tell you young vampire,” the creature spoke. Aleron forced a calm over himself, he wanted nothing more than peace, and if there was a way that could be achieved then he was certain he would listen. If he could make his visions a reality then he was going to take the chance offered to him. What the foul being said next though was not something he was ready for, and if anything, it only confused matters more and made his hopes shatter.
“Seek out the White Witch. Seek out her heart and her soul, for she is the only one that can give you what it is that you need to bring peace amongst the Forsaken.”
Chapter One
Melaina stood unmoving as her master stalked up and down in front of her, piercing blue eyes fixed unblinking on him, his anger radiating off him in endless waves. He was furious, his cobalt eyes were ablaze with a manic flame and his slender frame was tense beneath the deep red of the clothing that covered him. Long fingers ran repeatedly through his shoulder length silver hair in agitation. Yet still she did not move, did not speak, even when he slammed his hands down upon the oak desk between them.
“I told you not to return unless you had the dog on its leash! Yet here you are in front of me, empty handed when you should be on the streets of Paris hunting down the English vermin.” Nikolas snarled with such venom in his words that they would have terrified any normal person, but Melaina was not a normal person and she was used to Nikolas and his mercurial anger. Waiting for a few moments almost relishing the silence that surrounded them, Melaina finally spoke.
“You sent me out basically cold Nikolas. Your source and their lack of information was so unhelpful. In fact, are you so sure you can trust them?” she asked, watching him closely as her words sunk in. She knew that this answer would likely cause even more anger to be directed at her, but Melaina did not care. If Paris wanted to be rid of the rumoured threat to the King, she needed more information before she could go hunting for wolves.
“You are the greatest witch of Dark Magic I have. You should be able to work with even the smallest lead. Must I seek elsewhere? Find someone stronger, more willing to do what is asked of them? There is a fresh wave of dark witches reaching the shores of France,” Nikolas threatened. Melaina bristled at his words, eyes darkening at the threats he spoke, as she replied through gritted teeth.
“You would not find another with the powers I possess Nikolas.” She saw the smirk cross his features as she spoke, it only angering her more.
“Oh, but there is one other that is just as powerful as you are, is there not? And she is in Paris hiding amongst the mortals.” Turning her lip up into a snarl as she stepped backwards towards the door, Nikolas continued to taunt her, “Maybe I should summon her, or even better, maybe I should entrust that task to you, for she possesses that power to lure anyone and anything under her spell. Now go and figure out how it is you will win her round to our side. I have to tell the King that yet again we have failed to halt the threat to him.”
It was a dismissal and one that would not allow Melaina to speak back, well not if she valued her life. Growling Melaina turned and stalked out of the room, the ringing of heels on marble echoed around the halls of the Louvre Palace as she made her way back to her chambers. Slamming the door behind her, whipping off her long black cloak as she did so, revealing her thin frame clad in a midnight blue fitted gown. Releasing long ebony curls from restricting pins before pouring herself a glass of wine, she swirled the blood red liquid around, her mind going over all Nikolas had said. She knew that she could not disobey him, and that she must seek out the witch that he spoke of to redeem herself in his eyes. Taking a sip of the wine her eyes fixed on the gardens of the palace below her, speaking into the night,
“Little sister, it is time I paid you a visit.”
The warm afternoon sun beat down upon the streets of Paris as Emilie made her way through the endless stalls of the market. The air was filled with every possible aroma, from the sweet smells of fresh pastries and bread to the rich scent of meat mingled with the tantalising fragrance of wine. Yet all these wonderful joys were tainted with the bitter odour of the dirt and sewage of the reeking streets, but Emilie did not care she was enjoying a rare day away from the hospital and the sickness that plagued her every day. Reaching the path that ran along the River Seine she pushed down the hood of her red cloak to allow long brunette curls to dance playfully in the gentle breeze, as sky blue eyes lazily took in the colours of the city. Reaching the stalls that held endless herbs Emilie began to browse them, she had made herself known as a healer with such herbs and many in Paris would come to the hospital to see her. She was a witch but she chose to channel her powers for the good, to heal the sick. Reaching out to pick up a new herb that had found its way to the market, her hand was stopped by another, the grip around it tight despite the thin set of the wrist attached to it.
“You really are wasting your talents you know Emilie,” came a voice that sent a chill down Emilie's spine, taking a deep breath she turned to lock eyes with ones that mirrored her own.
“Melaina. I am surprised to see you out in the light and after so many years. You must be desperate, and I can assure you before I even hear your plight my answer is no,” Emilie replied, tearing Melaina's fingers from her wrist and turning to make her way back towards her home, but she was stopped by a force wrapping itself around her preventing her from taking another step.
Her tone warning as she spoke,
“Melanie, you know the rules when we are in public.” Smiling she heard her sister let out a frustrated growl before releasing her from the spell, Emilie turned to face her once more.
“You and I will talk little sister, so care to lead me to your humble home and we can discuss what is being asked of you there, in private?” Emilie held her sister's gaze for a moment longer seeing in her eyes that there was no room for discussion; sighing deeply she silently led Melaina through the maze of streets to a small run-down building. She could feel the disgusted look her sister was giving her home, but Emilie did not care; it had been her home for many years and she loved every piece of the old building.
“I must say I am a little surprised that you choose to live in such a hell hole as this Emilie. You have the means to live a much more comfortable life,” Melaina said as she moved through the house taking in the old rooms and basic furniture that inhabited it. Emilie did not rise to her sister's bait as she waited patiently in the living area while Melaina explored.
“Unlike you Melaina I do not need endless wealth to be happy, living as long as we have you get bored of such. Besides I do not wish to be suspected as a witch. My life is finally peaceful and normal and I like it how it is,” Emilie replied, flashing her sister a sweet smile as she entered the room. “With that being said...sister, you can tell me what it is you wish to and then leave, because as I have said my answer is already no. I do not want to be part of whatever dark scheme you are plotting,” she added, watching as her sister took a seat on one of the worn chairs; that intense piercing stare never leaving her, causing a shiver to run down her spine.
Finally, Melaina spoke,
“I am afraid Emilie you do not have a choice in this matter. I did not want to come and find you, in fact after many years of not having seen you I was beginning to think that I never would again, almost wishing it so. Yet it seems you cannot leave me alone following me to Paris.”
“Well someone had to keep an eye on you, and I do not always trust that Nikolas can keep you on a tight rein. I am guessing it is him that has sent you here, and if I am right then it
is that reason alone I am actually considering hearing you out,” Emilie stated, finally removing her cloak from her petite frame and taking her own seat, leaning back in it opening her arms slightly encouraging her sister to continue, smiling slightly at the annoyance on Melaina's face; most likely due to the fact she was not having the desired effect on Emilie she had hoped for, but Emilie no longer feared her sister after many centuries of doing so.
“Nikolas wants you to help us, and believe me it pains me to say that. There is a threat to the King, the English have sent over their dogs, literally. We do not know how many of them or what exactly it is that they are planning on doing here, but we assume it is some sort of assassination plot. The source Nikolas is using is useless. I do not know who it is but they sent me out on a cold lead again today, and let us just say I was not welcomed when I returned back to the Louvre,” Melanie explained. Emilie stayed silent guessing there was more, nodding slightly to encourage her sister to continue.
“Emilie, Nikolas wants you to use your powers to get within the pack, to get one of them to fall in love with you...”
“You mean you want me to spy? More specifically, you want me to spy within a pack of werewolves, are you mad? They will be able to sniff me out so quickly Melaina,” Emilie interrupted, her voice not masking the fear she was feeling inside at her sister's words.
“No, they will not, we can easily cover your scent, though the fact that you have lived and walked the streets of Paris for the last ten years will help, your scent will blend in. You must find the pack or at least the youngest of them and bewitch him into loving you, trusting you. Emilie, you have done it before you can do it again, this time it is to save France,” Melaina told her. Emilie stood, pacing the room as she let her sister's words sink in. She was right of course, it would be easy enough to fool a wolf, but she had done this before, and had vowed in the aftermath that she would never become a spy in an enemy camp again.
