Mystic Storm: An Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Othala Witch Collection (Sector 2)

by Bella Love-Wins

  “Yes. The reason we’re here…” she started evenly.

  “Is to victimize more of the town’s young men by turning them into the Regent’s slaves.”

  Kiera reared back in her chair. “Slaves? How could you call yourselves slaves? You all are heroes.”

  “My troops are slaves.” His tone was flat, deadly serious. “If you don’t already see that with your own eyes, you are more naïve than I expected.”

  “Funny, but the rest of Sector Two believe you are warriors. Champions of our people and our way of life. Without you, the Ravagers would have wiped us out. You and your men have kept us safe for almost nine years.”

  He scoffed. “That sounds like the second half of old man Minassus’ annual Winter speech. I take it you have fallen for his trickery, but that never surprises me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shook his head. “For a powerful witch, you are remarkably gullible. Look at the way we are treated. Witches, humans, my shifter kin. We have no free will. Look at you. You’re the Chosen. It sounds like an honor, but do you know what happened to the last eight witches to be called by that moniker?”

  “Of course I know. All the Chosen fulfilled their destiny and now live in honor in the fortress Chamber of the Sacred, accessible only to the Regent.”

  Xander laughed so hard, Kiera thought he would fall out of his chair. “You believe that?” He tilted his head to the side, squinting his eyes as he seemed to study her. “My God. You really believe.”

  “If you know so much, what do you think happened to them?”

  “They served their purpose, so yes, that part is correct. So you don’t know they are… dead?”

  Angered by his lies, Kiera got to her feet. “We need this meeting, Commander Oslo, but that does not mean I must subject myself to your outrageous fabrications. Of course they are not dead.”

  “Ask the Regent when you return. In fact, ask your familiar. They are all dead.”

  “But…why? What is it that leads you to believe the eight Chosen have passed on?”

  “That is another question to ask your Regent.”

  “Are you suggesting that his Eminence killed them?”

  “Perhaps you should ask him yourself, or have an honest conversation with that immortal shifter witch waiting outside. Getting back to the point, men with the 236-k gene are also chosen, in a manner of speaking. We are taken from our families, and we are no longer given a choice to accept or reject the transformation process. We are forced. Dissenters are caught and punished, sometimes tortured until they agree to accept the transformation into shifters. Those who try to run away are eventually captured and killed. Minassus makes it all sound like it’s an honor to serve, but the truth is we have no choice. And if that weren’t enough, we are separated from the people we care about, kept trapped in shifter-only quarters, under-clothed, underfed and treated like animals…because Minassus would love nothing more than for everyone to view us as he does…as a sub-human species.” He crossed his arms. “You can parrot all his inspirational words in any way you like, but the fact is, you also view us as being inferior.”

  “Do not think you can speak for me, Commander Oslo,” she shouted.

  Her face burned, her heart raced, blood pounded in her ears, and bile threatened to rise up into her throat. This man was the rudest, most difficult person she had ever met. He made such atrocious accusations. It was ludicrous. No wonder the Regent chose to abstain from the meeting. For a moment, the question of why crossed her mind. Why would Regent Minassus allow her to meet with a man who practically accused him of murder? And why would Xander want to start a fight with her when they had only just met? They were supposed to be learning from each other and establishing a rapport, forming a bond which was necessary for her transformation spell to work.

  Kiera took a deep breath, reminding herself of her power. Regent Minassus had warned her that something like this could happen. Commander Oslo was an alpha, but she could be strong too.

  With that in mind, she took a seat again. She placed her shaking hands on the table and found her calmest, most evenly-measured voice. “I think we have gotten off to a poor start. I take responsibility for allowing our discussion to get off the rails, and I am prepared to refocus us, starting now. We are here today because we do not have much time before the first winter storm of the season. I am committed to carrying out my role as the Chosen. As you know, I will cast a spell that will transform this year’s selected men to polar bear shifters, which will ensure the Sector has enough of your kind. You and I will work together to minimize any unforeseen obstacles.”

  The Commander leaned back in his chair, folding massive arms over an equally broad chest, assessing her, yet closed off from her. He had probably heard that one aspect of Kiera’s ability as a witch was that she was an empath—able to sense emotions, and intuitively read into them in order to delve into another person’s thoughts. She had possessed this ability for as long as she could remember. It was the trait which first clued her mother in that Kiera was a witch. Her ability was not as attuned as the Regent. He could read the most unwilling of minds. Kiera on the other hand would receive impressions, some emotional cues, and fleeting images. Nothing concrete. Xander’s mind, however, was a locked door, very much like the Regent’s, who always cloaked his thoughts. Did Xander know she was trying to read him? Was he intentionally putting up walls to block her way? After pondering the question, she dismissed the idea. It may have been because he was a shifter. She had never tried to read a shifter’s mind before. Probably because she had never met one in person.

  Even for all her inexperience, and with all the tension Xander created, she was willing to bet that no other person—not witch, human or shifter—could send a chill down her spine the way Xander did just by looking at her. Now if she could just focus long enough to get the loud, overbearing, stubborn man to cooperate as they worked to protect Sector Two this winter.

  3

  Xander

  This was the chance Xander had been waiting for all these years. His instincts screamed so loudly, he could hardly hear the words Kiera spoke. His men had a shot at freedom, and Kiera was going to be the one to help make that happen. The part of him brought about by the transformation spell made him certain of it. That was the thing about strong magic. It left something behind. Something intangible and unreachable inside of him felt Kiera and her familiar’s abilities, and recognized that she was the key.

  Before that evil witch Minassus had cast his spell on him, he had been an ordinary human. He’d worked hard to build as good a life as he could for his mother and himself. Everyone else in his family had been killed during the Big Storm nine years ago, so he did everything he could to care for his mother. Shortly afterward, Minassus’ scribes, scientists and witches made three discoveries that changed everything.

  First, two of the Regent’s scribes found a written account from almost three hundred years ago, after the first ravagers had appeared. The report described a failed ravager attack and their retreat from Akimiski Island near James Bay in Canada. The cause: polar bears that inhabited the island had defended their territory, brutally wounding or killing scores of the monsters. Second, at the same time nine years ago, scientists in the employ of the Regent had discovered that it was the presence of the 236-k gene in humans that allowed them to be turned to polar bear shifters. Finally, the witches had perfected a powerful spell to transform large groups of people to shifters all at the same time. Afterward, it was the evil, traitorous familiar belonging to Minassus who had recommended turning all men with the gene to polar bear shifters, to use them as defensive weapons against the ravagers.

  Minassus had thus established a way to bolster the defense of Sector Two’s boundaries. Of course, he used surreptitious methods to build his new army. Every healthy male in the central village of Sector Two was called to the Great Hall under the guise of holding an emergency meeting. On their arrival, Minassus announced there was a way for a
select number of men to serve and protect the Sector. Given that the ravager attacks had affected every household and family, every man in the room raised their hands to help.

  The scientists did their tests, and three days later, Minassus again called on every man with the 236-k gene. He told them they would be made stronger, more powerful, and capable of bringing down all ravagers that approach or breach the Sector’s outer walls. There was no mention of being transformed to shifters, and no advance notice that they would never live with their families again. Those realities came later, and with them, the segregation, oppression and mistreatment of Xander’s kind began.

  He was in the first group that was transformed. The unfortunate first cases. Quarantined and tested for the gene. Once their suitability to become shifter soldiers was confirmed, Minassus and his familiar, a Siberian tiger, cast the spell to turn them. The men with the 236-k gene were all turned, but the spell was too strong for the witch vessels. The tiger familiar died immediately. Minassus was almost killed too. He fell into a coma for nearly a month. During that time, the head of his personal guard carried on his work, training Xander and the other turned shifters, and then unleashed them to fight days after their transformation.

  The first ravager they killed was a massive victory. Sadly, it had come at a cost. Six of the two hundred turned shifters had died, and just as many had been severely wounded. Still, it was a victory, and they had learned enough about the ravagers during that first battle to improve their defensive tactics in time for the next attack.

  Once Minassus came out of his coma, his first decree was to actively recruit the strongest witches of the Sector. He matched them with older, more powerful familiars so that they stood a better chance of surviving future transformation spells. His second degree: he established the Sector Two Boundary Protection Unit and made it mandatory for all men eighteen years and older possessing the 236-k gene to join. He also augmented the number of his personal guards, sending them to all villages in Sector Two to test each male, no matter the age, and drafted those who were of age.

  No stone was unturned, and no man with the gene was exempt from the draft. Anyone who refused was imprisoned until they agreed to serve. Some died under mysterious circumstances. It didn’t matter that these men had lives of their own, wives, children or families, or futures. They belonged on the Boundary Protection Unit. Like possessions, puppets of the Regent.

  Now, there was a girl in front of him who carried the promise of freedom for his kind. The ninth Chosen, the ninth witch selected by Minassus to do out his bidding. All Xander wanted was to regain the free will every person was born with, so each man with the 236-k gene could choose whether or not to serve. It would take a revolt to make that happen, and the Chosen would need to refuse to turn more men. This young woman was the first Chosen who seemed to think for herself. To Xander, that meant he had a chance to unveil Minassus’ lies, and convince Kiera not to carry out the spell. He wasn’t certain exactly how just yet, but he would start with seduction. The rest would hopefully come within the next nine days. The plan would come together, and of that he was certain, the same way he knew so many other things, thanks to his heightened instincts.

  The best part was Kiera wanted him. It was obvious to him from her quick breathing, the way her pupils dilated, and the flush in her cheeks whenever his eyes fell on her. And she was beautiful, with soft green eyes, vibrant red hair, and a lush, shapely body under all those garments. He smiled. What he had to do was sure to have its share of enjoyment.

  “There are things you want to know about me,” he murmured. “You’re dying of curiosity, aren’t you? Innocent women like you aren’t allowed to know men like me.”

  Her skin flushed again. “I’ve never known anyone like you. That’s true.”

  “Go ahead. Ask your questions.”

  A look of confusion crossed her face. Xander had caught her off guard.

  She sat up straighter, squaring her thin shoulders. “All right. The Regent has provided initial numbers, but just to confirm, how many of you are there?”

  “There’s only one man like me.”

  She let out a little sigh. “You know what I mean.”

  “At last count, there are four hundred and fifty-nine turned shifters living in our camp. There are also one hundred and fourteen men who have not yet been turned. They are considered trainees, and have lived with us since the spring.”

  “Out of curiosity, how long have you been a shifter?”

  “Nine years. I was eighteen. But you already know that. I am confident the Regent briefed you on all of these details before this meeting.”

  “True, but building a rapport requires—”

  “Breaking the ice? There’s no need to waste this time on what you already know. I can think of so many other ways to…to build a bridge between us. Starting with this.” He stood up, left his side of the table, and sat in the empty chair beside her that was meant for her familiar. “There. Progress. Does our proximity feel better?”

  He smiled as Kiera stiffened up in her chair, her cheeks flushing to an even deeper shade of red.

  “I suppose,” she stammered out in a breathy whisper.

  Holding the sides of his chair, he turned it to face her. “Proceed with your questions.”

  She ran a nervous hand up the side of her face, tucking some stray strands of hair behind her ears. “All right. Were you declared the alpha immediately after that?”

  He chuckled. “No. I became the alpha six years ago. Just so you are aware, an alpha isn’t declared. Our leadership is…asserted, claimed.”

  “Does this give you special powers over your species?”

  The question made him bristle at first, but then he allowed a smile to return to his face. She was brainwashed by the Regent, which was why she accepted much of what she had learned without question. To him, that knowledge made him more confident. Changing her mind would actually be easier.

  “First of all, do you view witches as a species?” he asked.

  “Well, no. We’re humans, born with certain abilities to connect ourselves to supernatural forces and practice witchcraft.”

  “So you’re human.”

  “Correct.”

  “And are shifters not born human?”

  Her facial expression changed when she must have realized how illogical it was to refer to shifters as a species. “Yes… all right. So you are human. Does being alpha give you any unique abilities or powers over your… troops?”

  “Here is another clarification for you. I do not exert my will over my men. That is not how I lead. We are all equal.”

  She tilted her head to the side, and asked, “Not to be rude, but what does it matter that you are the alpha? I do not understand.”

  Holding back his temper was proving to be difficult. A part of him wanted to lash out at her, to make the point that no one in the Regent’s coven really cared about him or his soldiers, but he held his tongue. Verbally attacking her would not serve his purpose.

  “Being alpha means I speak for my group. It also means they listen to me and accept that my direction is for the benefit of our pack.”

  She nodded, biting down on her full, sexy bottom lip. Something inside Xander stirred as he watched her. What would those lips taste like?

  “I see. Regarding the trainees, the Regent wants to ensure that I am fully prepared to transform the hundred and fourteen men at the ceremony in nine days.”

  “I am aware of that,” Xander answered, his voice tight. If he got his way, that sorcery would not happen.

  “Although the past few days of brisk weather do lead me to believe we may have our first winter storm before that time.”

  He nodded. “That could be.”

  “When may I visit your camp to meet them?”

  “Today, tomorrow… It is up to you, and when you visit, you will see with your own eyes.”

  “See what?”

  “The overcrowding. The deplorable conditions. Our base needs to be
rebuilt. It can serve as a training center and for planning and operations, but not as a year-round residence. We are ready to return to our families. We have been living like prisoners for too long.”

  Something in her eyes sparked to life at his last sentence, and she nearly leaped to her feet. “Why do you insist on using such words?”

  “Because that is what we are,” he roared, unable to keep calm. “The day a man is transformed, he is doomed to spend the rest of his life in the camps your Regent created for us. Our camps are nothing like life in the fortress. The place is no kind of home.”

  “They are warm and comfortable, though. Correct? I was told you have everything you could need.”

  “Is that the rubbish you and your fortress witches have been fed?”

  He watched her expression change again as she thought it over. “How on earth would I know how you live?”

  He huffed out a breath. This discussion was becoming more tenuous, but some of this frustration was necessary. “Perhaps you would be more aware if you cared enough to open your eyes, venture out of your room in the fortress, and find out for yourself. All you have done is accept the information Minassus saw fit to provide to you. Do you think that makes you innocent? It does not. It makes you complicit.”

  “I would like to focus on today, Commander Oslo,” she insisted. “And on our upcoming meetings over the next few days, where my eyes will be open and I will indeed venture out of the fortress to meet you. One thing we can both agree on is that we need you…and your soldiers. Without you, Sector Two citizens would probably all be dead by now.”

  Something about the way Kiera stated that fact got under his skin. He shot up to his feet, and didn’t care how intimidating he might look now that he towering over her. “Why should our ability to protect the Sector preclude us from holding on to our freedom? Can we not choose? And tell me something. I do not understand how a slew of scientists, scribes, researchers and so many witch covens cannot come up with other ways to fight them. You’re all intelligent, resourceful and powerful, and yet creating an army of slaves makes the most logical sense to you?”