Protecting the Pack

by L. S. Slayford

  Protecting

  The

  Pack

  L S Slayford

  © Copyright 2019 - All rights reserved.

  The contents of this book may not be reproduced, duplicated, or transmitted without direct written permission from the author.

  Under no circumstances will any legal responsibility or blame be held against the publisher for any reparation, damages, or monetary loss due to the information herein, either directly or indirectly.

  The characters within this book are fictitious and any resemblance between them and real people is purely coincidental.

  Cover by: LKO Designs

  One

  You can’t trust a Locke.

  I can’t imagine how many times I’ve told my parents this over the years, but no one has ever taken me seriously. When Peter Locke’s slimy, arrogant voice came onto the radio this morning to say everything was going to be fine, right then I knew I couldn’t trust him. No one could. One of the council elders, he personified everything I hate about organisations, magical or human; corruption, deceit and personal power. Several hours later and I could still hear his annoying speech reverberating in my head.

  I swear I was going to go mad, each step forward taking me closer to the heart of this newest insanity. I don’t like being around a lot of people at the best of times, but now … urgh. Over fifty people had started camping on the outskirts of my forest sometime in the last twenty-hour hours, littering my moss-covered ground with their crap. How dare they!

  Not that I could blame them entirely. Only a few days ago, a succession of earthquakes had devastated much of the country. Skyscrapers plummeted to the ground, bringing their neighbouring buildings crashing down alongside them. Railway lines were littered with debris of office and residential buildings, grinding the railways to a complete halt. Within a single day, over twenty earthquakes had struck England, although parts of Wales and Scotland had been hit, too. Schools, hospitals, houses – all reduced to rubble within moments. Reports had put the death toll at over a million people within the first twelve hours; by the next day it had risen to a staggering five million.

  So much death, so much destruction, so much fear. Chaos ruled the country; I didn’t have to step outside the borders of my forest to know that.

  No one wanted to be confined within walls when they came crashing down so many had taken to camping outside, figuring it would be safer. Again, another thing I couldn’t blame them for.

  However, I could blame them for the awful mess they were making of my forest. The stench of smoke trickled through the trees, hitting my nostrils moments before I saw the first licks of the bonfire. Through the waning light, tendrils of raging flames licked the sky, thick smoke straining upwards. Kids of all ages darted through the trees, their screams of laughter filling the air. Soft sobs flittered between the laughter and conversation of the adults. Patches of dirt streaked along their faces and covered their clothes. A young baby cried, whether from hunger or fear, I couldn’t say. As I strode into the clearing, I could make out a dozen tents erected, camping equipment, clothes, toys, and other items sprawled out all over the ground. Did these people not know how to tidy up after themselves?

  As soon as I stepped past the ring of trees, the conversations hushed, and I found dozens of eyes on me. There were far too many people here for my liking.

  “Are you looking for somewhere to crash? You’re welcome to join us,” a dark-haired woman called across the way, a two or three-year-old girl seated in her lap. Her fingers worked to tie the girl’s hair into a ponytail, but the child kept fidgeting, and, without a brush, the result was somewhat messy.

  My hands went straight to my hips. “No, I want to know what you’re doing here,” I responded, not giving a damn about the ice in my voice as I lifted my chin. It always worked to show you’re not intimidated. Not that I was.

  A man somewhere in his forties scoffed, running a hair through his greasy hair. “What’s it to you, girlie?”

  My head turned and my eyes latched onto his. “I’m Alana Ash. This is private property. My private property. You’re trespassing.” Icicles dripped from my words. Everyone stopped, their heads twisting in my direction.

  Silence blossomed across the way for a moment before the woman spoke again, this time with a tremble of nervousness in her voice. “I’m sorry, but we didn’t know where else to go. Our homes are all gone. We thought it would be better to camp out here and weigh up our options.”

  “Weren’t there any shelters you could go to?” I asked, crossing my arms, trying my best to ignore the weight of so many eyes on me.

  The woman shook her head, the dirty child in her arms now whimpering and burying its head into her chest. “We don’t know of any. I’ve sent my brother to see if he can find out any information, but he hasn’t returned yet. It’s chaos out there.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, asking the spirits of the forest to help me. Patience and social interaction were never my thing. Guess what, I don’t like parties either. “What about the Internet? Can’t you find anything on there?”

  A snort of derision emanated from my side, coming from a young man wearing stained jeans and a dark hoodie. His eyes blazed my way beneath the hood. “Got a phone or computer we could use? All our phones are dead, none of us have a charger, and there’s no socket out here to plug one into even if we did.”

  The sigh that had been bubbling up in my chest escaped my lips before I could hold it back. “So, what are your plans? You can’t stay here forever.”

  “We won’t be here long,” the woman said, her pleading voice overriding the calls of heartless bitch being murmured around the make-shift campsite. “We just need to wait for my brother to see what he’s found out. Then we can head somewhere safe. Please don’t kick us out. We’ve nowhere to go that’s safe for the kids. You wouldn’t believe the amount of rioters out there.”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to block out her words but soon found that I couldn’t. I was a bitch, but not completely heartless. Most of the time, anyway. “Fine, you’ve got until your brother comes back and then you need to go.” Calls of thank you echoed across the way along with a few not so nice remarks. Opening my eyes, I put on my best no-nonsense face. I hadn’t known a single person it hadn’t worked on before. “A few rules though. None of you go further than here; I don’t want you disturbing my wildlife. Two, you don’t hunt any of the animals. And three, don’t leave a mess. I like my forest tidy.” Hearing low words exchanged between two young men, I continued, looking in their direction. “Some of the animals here include a small pack of wolves. They keep to themselves on the other side of my land. This is their home, not yours. Don’t go over there looking for something to do.”

  A male voice sounded through the campsite, and I could hear the tremor in it. “There are wolves here?”

  I looked around for the source of the question but couldn’t place it. They had no clue about the dangers in my forest and it needed to stay that way. I kept my tone hard. “Yes, I have wolves here. Which is why I’d suggest you don’t stay. Keep your kids close and safe if you really feel the need to camp here. I’m not taking responsibility for your stupidity, and neither are my wolves.”

  The murmuring grew louder. Through the haze of conversations, I could make out questions such as, should we really stay here? As if on cue, howls broke through the air. My wolves weren’t that far off. Maybe they could sense my unease. It wouldn’t be the first time. Children ran to the comfort of their parents’ arms. Murmurs of soft voices floated through the air, entwining with the crackle of the bonfire.

  An older man stepped forward, any attempt of friendliness melted away. “Why on earth would there be wolves here?” he demanded, his arms crossed over
his chest, mirroring my own.

  I turned and stared at him, my eyes hardening. I could only imagine what they looked like against the heat of the fire. “Because this is the Ash Wolf Sanctuary, not the Ash Family Camping Grounds. I wouldn’t go any further than here if you value your lives.” Turning back towards the others, I uncrossed my arms and kept a neutral expression on my face. “There’s a stream about a hundred yards to the east. You can use it to drink and clean with, just be tidy please.”

  The woman with the child in her lap nodded, relief blooming across her face. “We will, and thank you. We didn’t realise that this was a wolf sanctuary. We’ll be gone as soon as possible, promise. We just didn’t know where to go. Nowhere is safe these days.”

  Nodding, I turned around and left the clearing, nervous and irritated eyes burning into my back. I didn’t care. They had to be gone. If they weren’t, it would be their own fault. Their fate would be sealed in blood.

  Two

  I’m not always such a bitch. Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. I am if I don’t get my cup of tea first thing in the morning – I am British, after all – but I’ve been accustomed to being on my own for so long that I actually prefer it that way. After all, who’s going to want to be around a witch with a past as dark as mine?

  As I walked back towards the estate, my temples beginning to throb with the first signs of a pounding headache, I became aware of someone behind me. Spinning around, I was ready to face down anyone who wanted to argue. Fire was already blazing in my eyes, power flowing towards my fingers, as I twirled around. But when tendrils of my dark hair finally whipped out of my face, what filled my gaze was something I didn’t expect.

  Eyes as dark as the shadows in my forest at night stared back at me, framed with a shaggy mop of black hair that threatened to spill into them. Somewhere in his mid-thirties, he wore a black leather jacket and tight black jeans that accented his long, muscular legs. The bad boy player type that every mother warned her angel daughter about. Instantly, heat pooled between my thighs and my mind screamed, trouble!

  Not wanting an awkward silence to fill the air, I mustered up enough breath to speak. “Can I help you?” It may have come out more harshly than what I intended, but at least my voice didn’t betray what my body was really feeling.

  A ghost of a smile played across his full lips. Lips that looked perfect to sink one’s teeth into. Stop it, Alana. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I needed to speak to you, away from the campsite.” Velvet tones carried on the slight breeze that separated us. My knees threatened to give way.

  “What about? I said everything I needed to back there. You lot have until tomorrow and then you need to leave. I’m really sorry that your homes are destroyed but you can’t stay here.” I folded my arms over my chest, my chin low, and hoped to the Goddess that he realised I didn’t want to carry on this conversation.

  “I’m not with the group and I do need to stay here. In fact, it’s imperative.” His warning tone was confident and unmistakable.

  “Imperative?” I asked confused, feeling my brows knitting together.

  “You’re in danger, Alana.”

  I was in danger of an orgasm if he kept talking. Sweet goddess, his voice could make the backs of a woman’s knees melt at those sultry tones. I snorted. “Danger? Of what, a ragamuffin crew camped out in my forest? I think I can deal with those.”

  Mr Gorgeous shook his head, the smile disappearing into a grim line. I wanted that smile back. It was the best thing I’d seen in months. “No, they’re harmless enough. Exhausted, scared, uncertain as to what the future brings, all normal for humans. You can easily manage them with your magic. But there’s something coming, something that poses a real danger for you and the werewolf pack that lives on your land.”

  Suddenly, I found myself struggling for air but desperately attempted to mask it. How on earth did he know about them? Only a few where in on the secret. Lifting an eyebrow, I scoffed at him. “Magic? Werewolves? Did your head come into contact with a falling brick during the earthquakes or something? This is a wolf sanctuary, the last of its kind in England, yes, but there’s nothing supernatural about it.”

  Taking a step forward, his dark eyes pierced my own, as though they could see through the mask I was wearing and down into my soul. I swear I could see emerald flecks in them. Were they green or brown? In this light it was hard to tell. “There’s no need to hide what you are from me, Alana, I already know.”

  “Funny, you don’t look like a witch to me,” I told him. Cocking my head to the side, I glanced down the length of his body and back up again. It was true; he looked more like a model instead of a witch, nor did he possess that vibe that most witches possessed. Male witches are rare and the last one I’d encountered had tried to kill me. But as his eyes continued to stare at me, a shiver flooded my spine, travelling down to my toes. There was something … different about him. Not a witch, but something else perhaps. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Daniel.”

  “And what are you exactly, Daniel?” I ask, my eyes narrowing, distrust coating my words.

  “I’m – get down!” With a swirl of motion, Daniel spun around and dropped to his knees. Arms outstretched, palms spread out, sparks fizzled against a force I couldn’t see. A sweeping cold ran up from the base of my spine to the back of my head. Around me, the forest shuddered. Leaves rustled in the chilly breeze that swept through, then danced through the air, transforming from lush green to rust-coloured hues. The trunks of the oak and pine trees darkened, the air grew colder around us. Shadows crept in from all sides.

  Something was in my beloved forest. Something unwelcomed. Something dark. It pooled around, blotting out the rapidly dissolving light of day.

  This was bad.

  “Alana, get out of here!” Daniel gritted through clenched teeth, his head twisting around so I could see the strain on his face. “It’s after you. Get home and put your wards up! Run!”

  Before I could ask the questions that were burning my tongue, my body instinctively moved into action. Turning around, I raced through the trees, heading straight for home. The waning light dissipated under a thick dark cloud that swiftly followed me. I continued to run, jumping over thick roots and ducking under low hanging branches. Fear flowed down my spine and my lungs burned with exertion.

  Whatever this noxious cloud was, I had to escape it. I had to reach home. Already I could feel my forearms and thighs shaking with fatigue and my lungs were screaming for more air. But I couldn’t give up, not with that blackness on my heels.

  My hair whipped across my face as the darkness closed in on me. Out the corner of my eye, a gleam of silver rushed through the darkness. A high screech pierced through the forest, sending another ripple of fear throughout my body, and the darkness retreated from my vision. My lungs begged me to stop, to allow them to suck in enough air to continue, but instead I pushed forward, ignoring them.

  The gigantic wooden doors of my home came into sight only seconds later, spurring me on even faster. Racing past the cast iron gates all I could think of was to get inside where safety from all the monsters was assured.

  Only I was never going to reach it in time.

  Three

  Only inches away from my front door and the world blurred. Hot air sped past me in a blazing whirlwind. Goddamn it, I swore in my head. One moment the door was right in front of my face and the next, said face was covered in dirt. Sharp pain coursed through my head and I cursed myself for not picking up the last brick from my rather ridiculous attempt to make a rock garden. Planting my hands on the ground, I pushed upwards, feeling the first tingle of magic in the earth.

  A chill slowly crept up my leg. Twisting my head, all I could see was an inky shadow climbing along my body, just a shade darker than the unnatural gloom that blanketed the sky. The damn thing held my ankle in a tight grip, even though it wasn’t corporal. I kicked at it with my other foot, but it just pushed through it without doing a damn thing.

  I
t inched further up my leg.

  My stomach clenched and tried to force itself up my throat. Power rolled down my arms and, without thought, pooled out of my right palm in a blazing ball of shimmering silver light.

  The cold spell didn’t do a damn thing to it, whatever it was. Swallowing around the knot in the back of my throat, I called up a fire spell. Energy rushed from the centre of my gut and raced along my arm once again. Red flames compacted in a ball the size of an apple shot out in the shadow’s direction, a cascade of iridescent crimson sparks lighting up the inky darkness as soon as it made contact.

  Whatever this thing was, the fire spell worked. It loosened its grip on my ankle so I could wiggle it, but I still couldn’t free myself. I blasted the damn thing with one fire ball after the other, the panic in my throat tightening it to the point it was hard to get a breath in my lungs. Blood trickled down my forehead, mingling with sweat, forming a stream that flowed over my eye. Inside, my body screamed for air, and my fingers dug into the earth.

  The coolness of the dirt seeped into my fingers, renewing my strength. My power had always come from the earth. I’m told it’s a rare gift, and it’s come in handy a few times over the years. My sister’s and mother’s power were from water, my father’s from fire. Whenever I had used up my energy, all I had to do was reach down and allow it to soak into me, recharging my witchy batteries, so to speak.

  The shadowy creature finally released its grip on me and I scrambled to my feet. Adrenaline surged through me, dancing along my veins, propelling my feet to the door. If I could just get to the door, everything would be fine. Blood and salt warded my house. Nothing evil could get past.

  But I had to get there first.

  My feet stumbled over something, but it was hard to see in the darkness. My flowers, usually vivid during the day, had blended into the gloom, forming a landscape of inky shadows. The doors of my house, heavy, ornate and once belonging to an old church, came into view. Hope raced through me, spurring my feet into motion.