Page 1 of The Wolf and the Witch

Prologue

FIRST LYCAN

SEVERAL HUNDRED YEARS AGO

“Find the witch!” a double layered voice screamed into the night, sending chills down Abitha’s spine. She hid hunched against the base of a tree. She tugged on her magick, commanding vines to sprout and shield her from the creatures pursuing her. Their red eyes glowed through the gaps of trees. Animals but not.

She had to reach the coven leader, Helspeth, and inform her the beasts found a way to shift between animal and human skin. Moonlight shone off their coats and the several inches long canines lining their open maws. Her hands found her own mouth, trapping all sound between her fingers. The ground crunched beneath their oversized paws, large enough to crush a human’s skull.

Hairs raised on her nape. Her toes dug into the damp earth, connecting with the roots beneath her. She sent pulses of magick into the connection, communing with nature as Hecate intended, detecting the vibrations of their movements. Four of the oversized beasts hunted her, disturbing the natural order. No, five. One of them walked on two feet, leading the others prowling on four legs.

Blood pounded in her veins and her mind blanked, emptying of all prayers to the triple Goddess, mother of witches. The beasts were never meant to transform back, forever forsaking their human skin for their crime against Trimorphe, an epithet of Hecate, the three formed Goddess. Men never understood the ways of women, mocking their rituals with their senseless killing.

Hecate guided the hand of one of her priestess to curse one such man for butchering her sacred animal, dogs. The stories say four witches, one for each element, laid hands on the priestess, lending their strength, and receiving a blessing from Hecate in return. The man morphed, bones snapping, human teeth falling out and canines sprouting in their place, fur covering every part of the beast. Hecate cursed him into a bastardized version of a lupine, forever trapped in an animal’s skin, never to walk on two feet again.

Abitha’s eyes clenched shut, hearing a twig snap to her right. Her fingers curled in the dirt and magick pooled in her veins. Soteria aid me, Abitha beseeched, calling on one of the epithets of Hecate. A wolf’s whine filled the air and Abitha accepted the blessing, rushing to her feet, vines forming in her hands and growing downward from the tops of trees. After testing the sturdiness of nature’s creation, she climbed, whimpering when howls replaced the wolf’s whine.

Hand over foot, sweat running down her spine, Abitha climbed higher, her magick dwindling with each new vine she sprouted. Even magick had limits. Her leg swung over a tree branch and she paused, catching her breath, wiping an errant tear away. A dark shape flashed to her left and the branch beneath her shifted, ripping a scream from her throat. The beast slammed into the tree again and Abitha heard the distinct groan of the branch beginning to snap.

Climbing to her hands and knees, she jumped, pulling on her magick again. The breath knocked out of her as she landed on a new branch, her eyes tracking the creature below her. He raced to her new location. I’m going to die tonight, she realized. She couldn’t keep this up forever and they outnumbered her. It howled, signaling the others.

Tears rained down her face as she prepared to move again, rough bark scraping her palms.

“Come down, little witch and we might let you live,” an animalistic voice growled a few feet from her location. Her eyes found the glowing red irises of his. What abomination is this? she wondered. It grinned at her, flashing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Claws tipping his hands caught the moonlight. He crooked one of them at her.

There is peace in death for Hecate stands before the gate, she chanted in her head. She’d choose death over whatever fate the creature intended for her. Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead into the bark of the tree branch. Breathing in the earthy scent, she calmed her breathing. Various spells flickered in her mind, but only one stood out. A message from beyond. If she couldn’t make it to Helspeth to warn her, she’d send a message from the in between.

“Mortem, excessus, nox, nuntius, obcasus,” she chanted. Growls blended together into a chorus, several bodies slamming into the tree, rocking the branch beneath her. She repeated the chant once, twice, thrice. Blood choked her and her heart stopped as soon as the last words were out of her mouth, death taking his willing offering.

Her soul flew into Hecate’s arms before her body hit the forest floor.

Prologue II

10 YEARS AGO

Don’t be wary of the night

For Hecate shines her light

Beware the beast

Stalking the shadows for mortal flesh upon which to feast

A man no more

A punishment from Trimorphe to settle the score

A sad tale indeed

This male committed a vicious and vile deed

A grave mistake

His humanity, his soul, was Hecate’s to take

Forever an animal, no more human skin

A fitting punishment for his sin

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