“Gabriel,” an Elder said, standing in the garden behind him. Gabriel turned slightly and waved him forward, his pale skull shining in the sunlight among the roses and daffodils. Gabriel sighed as the Elder joined him. He sure loved this garden.
“Yes, my friend?” Gabriel smiled at him, knowing it was a ghastly sight. Even Elders seemed to be put off by an Elder’s appearance, which Gabriel had always found sad. He liked to embrace the skin he now lived in, though it was a completely different life and appearance that he had now than the one he had when he was first born all those years ago. He was incredibly old. The only person older than him in the Elders branches was Michael. Though Michael kept his face and appearance hidden from all, even from other Elders, Gabriel was sure he looked as old as he did.
“I’m to inform you that Michael and Hann know we were in Utah, as well as what went on in the cabin,” the Elder told him. Gabriel nodded. He knew they would figure out – he planned on it. He wanted them to know that they had been duped. That was all part of the plan, too. “They are now searching for the rogue leaders, as well as your new habitat.”
“Keep me updated on whether they get any of the rogues,” Gabriel told him before waving him away as if he was a little pestering bug that he wanted gone.
And, in a way, he was.
Everyone was to Gabriel. They all thought that they had so much to say and tell him, but he was always annoyed and looking for someone else to talk to. He especially hated it when rogues came to talk to him, after requesting an audience, and they thought that they had some great insight or plans for him to listen to. They always turned out to be beyond idiotic, and it took everything within Gabriel to not kill the dumb rogues when they showed up. When they spoke, he had to leave the room in a fit of rage.
Whatever happened to intelligent rogues? Are they now nonexistent?
That was one of the reasons Gabriel didn’t care that all the rogues died in his message to Maine and the world. He knew that the majority of them would. They were young, old, useless shifters that had become rogues from fits of rage. They weren’t skilled, and they sure as hell weren’t trained.
Gabriel didn’t need them. Until he needed them, of course. And what a great distraction they were. Michael and Hann were so busy protecting their shifters, that family of theirs, that they didn’t even notice that Gabriel was in Utah until he was gone. Gabriel was out of the state and on his way to France when they found out.
Winning this little battle felt good to him. Finally, things were looking up for the Elder. Finally, victory was right around the corner. He just had to instill that patience that he so hated. He just had to hope that the rogue leaders did what he told them to.
And he had to hope that no one tattled to the wrong person. The last thing he needed was Michael and Hann to get a tip from someone about what Gabriel and his rogues were planning. That would not be good for Gabriel, and just thinking about the possibility made his veins begin to boil with rage.
Gabriel began to walk deeper into the garden to try and calm himself, leaving the huge 17th-century castle behind him. Flowers danced at his feet as his hand caressed the rose bushes. He didn't even wince when a thorn pressed against his thumb from his careless movements. He didn't even bleed.
Gabriel sighed as he neared the middle of the vast garden. He finally felt better. He finally felt like himself. No more decrypt castles in Ukraine and no more bowing to Michael and Hann.
This time, he would do what he wanted to do.
Training went back to normal the next day, though Finn could tell there was an added urgency to everyone’s moves in the gym. Everyone wanted to be stronger. Faster. More in control. While they had won that battle, they knew that the worst was to come.
And they needed to be prepared for that final day… whenever it happened.
Hann and Michael were keeping everyone updated on the news, whenever they could. They wanted the pack to be informed and ready for anything that Gabriel could send their way. Gabriel was nowhere to be found, and his cabin in Utah had been thoroughly searched for any sign that could help out the shifters. They hadn’t found anything. The cabin didn’t even seem like it had any sign of life staying there, let alone a forgotten map or anything.
Michael continued to try and find Gabriel, as well as continuing to track all of the main rogues that were rumored to be the leaders of Gabriel’s whole movement. The theory is these rogues are the ones on the ground spiking uprisings and gaining more and more followers in Gabriel’s name, while Gabriel is the one who is putting together these massive plans and strategies.
Michael was also trying to come up with the cure to fix Gabriel's magic poison that he instilled in the rogues' claws and teeth in Michigan a few weeks ago. Hann assumed that Gabriel didn't use this on the rogues for various reasons. Maybe he just thought they were life that needed to be sacrificed. Maybe Gabriel had to magically produce this poison for each individual, therefore leaving him drained if he made a lot. No one quite knew what it was, and it hadn't been seen since those weeks in Michigan. But Michael was trying to find a cure because everyone knew that was what would be used in the final uprising battle with Gabriel as the leader.
And everyone wanted to be as prepared for that day as they could.
Everyone in Maine was still pretty shaken up about the whole thing. Even though no life was lost, it was still a scary situation that everyone was having a hard time at dealing with. Finn was worried about Lea and Lorelei. Both of them had one-on-one rogue incidents before the huge battle, and he was worried that it was going to get to them. However, after pressuring both of the girls and making sure they were okay, Finn felt a little better. He knew that they just needed time. And he would always be there to protect them when they needed him.
Finn had just gotten to the gym, and it was packed. For six o’clock in the morning, that was pretty impressive. Especially after a bunch of rogues just came to town and tried to kill everyone the night before. He had to give it to the shifters here. They knew when to buck up and get ready for war.
And he did notice the atmosphere was changing. As Finn walked through the gym to get to the locker room in the back, he walked around mats and workout machines. And every single shifter that caught his eye sent him a nod and a good morning.
It was like he was living in a different world.
Only a few days ago, he had walked into the pack bar and basically been ignored. Treated as if he wasn’t one of the group. As if he didn’t exist. And now, it was like he was one of them. It was crazy to him, but he wasn’t going to question it. He assumed it had a lot to do with Hann’s speech, as well as the shifters from the Moonlight Maine Pack realizing that all the shifters, regardless of whether they were a part of the Maine pack or not, showed up to fight against the rogues.
Once shifters go to battle with each other, Finn assumed attitudes changed. And he was a living example of that. He hoped that he wouldn’t go back to being that outcast that everyone liked, but no one wanted to hang out with. He would much rather be a friend to the pack than an outsider.
He had to admit that the majority of the pack didn’t treat link like much of an outcast. Hell, take Lea, for example. She never once acted like he was anything different because he was from another pack. She never questioned him, never made him feel as if he was unworthy of her love because he wasn’t from a pack as strong as hers. Nope. In fact, she made him feel like he was worthy of being anything that he wanted to be.
Kato, Annie, Lukas, Grant, Britta. They all were accepting and friendly to him from day one, never treating him any differently.
Finn got to the other end of the gym, after stopping to say hello to a few people and laughing with a few others (much to his surprise and delight) when he saw Lea. She was laughing with Hazel in the corner of the gym, leaning up against the wall as she stretched her legs. Her long blonde hair was up in that high ponytail she wore when she worked out, and she had no makeup on, letting her natural beauty shine through.
Finn felt his heart skip a beat, and he wondered when she began to affect him so much. He didn’t care though. He loved her and she loved him, and that was truly all that mattered. They were happy. And while he was sure there would be some bumpy moments along the way, he knew that they would make it. They were like two puzzle pieces that stuck together without any help. Without any glue. Just gravity and themselves – that was all they needed.
“Hey, Finn,” Hazel exclaimed from where they were sitting. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”
Finn didn’t even realize he was staring. He chuckled as he walked over to them. He didn’t care. He wasn’t embarrassed. Lea was his girl, and he could stare at her as long as he wanted. And from the way she was laughing, her cheeks red and her eyes sparkling, he knew that she didn’t mind.
Finn sat down next to Lea, kissing her head in a hello as Hazel cooed at the two of them. Finn rolled his eyes, as did Lea, but both of them were smiling nonstop as they waited for their class to start.
Finn knew that they all had to prepare. He knew that they had the worst possible thing coming for them. But in that moment, as he looked at the woman he was now sure was his one true love, he didn’t care. As long as he had her in his arms, they would be alright.
THE END
The Coven Box Set (1-5)
Book 1: Origins
Chapter One
It may not seem like the truth, but once, long ago – I was a girl. I was a normal child. While I always struggled with my beliefs, I tried my best to remain steadfast and hold strong to my family’s beliefs. My parents were on the fringe of the godly. My father had narrowly escaped death back home, in England, after which my family fled to the New World, seeking salvation and divine inspiration.
The New World was a frightening place. Where we had once lived in a grand home with wooden floors and glass panes in our windows, we now had nothing but a small shack with a muddy floor covered in rushes. My father remained convinced that this was best. “Excessive hedonism turns one away from the Lord,” he always said. “Ligeia, it is your duty to make sure that your heart remains steady and true.”
My mother was more concerned with breeding. She had lost three babes in the New World, and I felt as though nothing could ease her grief. Despite my father’s attempt at comfort, Mother remained isolated and cold. When she fell pregnant once more, her devotion to the Lord and Savior seemingly increased tenfold overnight.
At twelve years old, I was now expected to care for my younger brothers and sisters as my mother’s confinement became imminent. The burden of cooking, cleaning, and childrearing fell on my shoulders. Godly children were always expected to be self-sufficient, and my parents had very high expectations of me.
For the longest time, my biggest regret was not living up to the hopes and expectations of my family. But now…well, it’s unfair to make assumptions.
I’ll just have to let you decide for yourself.
--
Ipswich, Massachusetts – 1681
“Ligeia!” William Arrowsmith stood at the base of the stairs, bellowing loudly. A thunder of footsteps sounded above as William’s four children raced down the stairs, giggling and squealing.
“What cheer, Father?” Ligeia asked, sobering instantly. Her long, dark hair was bound in a knot at the back of her head, and her blue eyes flickered with intelligence.
William frowned. He was a man in early middle age, the dark hair on his head shot through with white and grey.
“Daughter,” he said sternly. “Prithee, tell me, have you finished your lessons for the day?”
Ligeia shook her head. “No, Father,” she said. She turned to her younger sisters. “Drusilla and Abigail have been fighting. It makes my head ache!”
William glared. “Daughter, you will soon be a woman,” he said. “You must learn to shoulder the responsibilities of a family.”
Ligeia hung her head. “Yes, Father,” she said softly. “I am sorry.”
“Do not apologize to me,” William said sharply.
Ligeia nodded. She turned to Abigail. “Sister, take the others outside,” she said softly. “I must pray with Mother.”
At age twelve, Ligeia was a serious young girl on the cusp of womanhood. She’d inherited her mother’s slender figure and her father’s intensity.
Ten-year-old Abigail was as different from Ligeia as night from day. She cocked her head to the side and licked her lower lip, looking impudent.
“Heed my words,” Ligeia said sternly. “Do not disobey me!”
Abigail rolled her eyes before taking the three remaining siblings by the hand and guiding them outside. Left alone with her father, Ligeia once again looked him in the eye.
“Father, tell me,” she said softly, “how is Mother today?”
“Pray for the soul of the babe,” William barked. “I have a meeting with the minister. He is coming to visit. Ligeia, prepare some libations.”
Ligeia nodded. She crossed the dirt floor of the small, wooden home, pausing as she walked past her parents’ chamber to gaze inside at her mother. Constance Arrowsmith’s belly was swollen huge with child, and she lay on a bed of straw, whimpering. Her face was bloodless and pale.
Ligeia knew it was wrong to disobey her father. Still, she couldn’t help but sneak inside the chamber and kneel at her mother’s side.
“Mother,” Ligeia whispered. She put a hand to her mother’s forehead; it came away warm and sticky with perspiration. “Is your time coming close?”
“It shouldn’t be more than another fortnight,” Constance said. Her features screwed tightly in pain. “I am getting older, that is all, child.”
Feeling helpless, Ligeia stroked her mother’s sweaty hair. The roots were dark with oil as Ligeia brushed the hair away from her forehead.
“Father has yet another meeting with Minister Boggust,” Ligeia whispered.
“Hush, child,” Constance said. She whimpered again. “Your father’s affairs are not for you to dwell upon.”
“It’s the third time he’s come to the house,” Ligeia said. She leaned back on her haunches, wondering what her father could possibly be doing with the minister. Minister Boggust was an intimidating man – elderly and stern, with closely-cropped white hair and bright grey eyes. Ligeia always felt as if the minister could peer directly into her soul. She was perpetually waiting for the day the minister would point a finger at her chest and call her evil.
“Ligeia, leave,” Constance said. She sighed and sat up in bed. “Tend to your brothers and sisters. The devil makes use of idle girls,” she added in a warning tone.
Ligeia clambered to her feet and wiped her palms on her homespun apron. “Yes, Mother,” she said. She dipped her head. “Fare thee well.”
Constance was silent as Ligeia closed the wooden door to the bedroom, but Ligeia’s heart was twisted with anxiety all the same. Since the terrifying journey to the New World, Constance had suffered three miscarriages – each more bloody and horrifying than the last. It was enough to make Ligeia swear off the idea of ever having children herself, although she knew it was unavoidable when it would come time for her to wed.
I’m only two and ten years, she thought as she reached into the pantry for a hunk of dark bread. Father and Mother will keep me at home until I’m at least six and ten. Ligeia stood on her tiptoes and felt for the earthenware jug, then filled it with ale from the larder. She set the ale and the bread down on the crudely hewn wooden table, then walked out into the fresh, crisp sunshine of the spring day.
Abigail and Drusilla were seated on the grass, playing with dandelions and weeds. John and Thomas were roughhousing, tumbling around, and shoving one another into the dirt.
Ligeia crossed her arms over her chest. “Thomas! John!”
The boys didn’t stop. Anger surged inside of Ligeia, and she walked over, grabbing her younger brother, Thomas, by the scruff of the neck.
“Father and the minister are having a meeting,” Ligeia hissed. “Do you wa
nt us all to look like heathens? Do you?”
Thomas cowered. He shook with fear as Ligeia released him. “No,” he whispered. “I am sorry, sister.”
The sound of a horse trotting up to the small, wooden home made the children fall silent. Ligeia watched as the minister dismounted, then leashed his reins to a fencepost. His grey eyes glittered with anger as he stormed inside the house.
“Prithee, be silent,” Ligeia hissed to her younger siblings.
Abigail glared at Ligeia. “I know what thou are doing,” she said slowly.
Ligeia’s blue eyes blazed with anger. “You also know that I am your elder,” she said, walking closer and staring down at her younger sister.
“It is a sin to eavesdrop,” Abigail said. She bit her lip.
Ignoring her, Ligeia crossed the yard and crept back inside the house. She closed her eyes, creeping along the dirt floor. The rushes crackled under her feet as she moved, but she didn’t turn or slow down.
Snippets of voices from the other room filtered through the dusty air and straight to Ligeia’s ears. She silently crept closer, pressing her ear to the thin wall.
“The sins of the people of Ipswich,” William said heavily. “I fear they are too much to bear. I fear my family will fall to the devil; that the whole town will fall to the devil if we do not act!”
“William, you need not concern yourself with these matters,” Minister Boggust replied. There was a pause, and Ligeia heard the unmistakable sound of chewing. “I advise you to let me and the other godly ministers address this.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but I believe you are not doing everything in your power to seek and destroy the evil among us.”
“William, are you implying that we are idle?”
“I am implying the evil is too great to be handled by a single man.”
Minister Boggust laughed, but the sound sent a shiver down Ligeia’s spine.
“I assure you, William that is not the case.”
“There is evil everywhere!” William hissed loudly. “I see it every morn, every night with the rise of the moon. God is nowhere to be found in this village, Minister.”
Outcast (Moonlight Wolves Book 4) Page 12
