Page 32 of Unshaken

“Oh, little Blue Mountain Witch, I watched you watch her just as closely as I have. I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together. I thought—you know what, never mind what I thought. The point is, I won’t have to hide from her either. To rid yourself of a disease you have to cut it out at the source,” he says matter-of-factly. I stand, I don’t want to hear another word. He can’t possibly be thinking what I think he is thinking. That he wants to kill Micah.

“You can’t.” I walk around the table to get away from him, but he blocks my way.

“I can, and I will, little Witch, and I’m going to use you to do it.” Rodyn leans into my face, forcing me back, his face darkening, and his lips smile unnaturally as his eyes become black voids.

“Killing her won’t—” He cuts my words off with a snap of his fingers and there’s nothing but darkness.

Rodyn did this to me. He is using me as bait, and if I’m sitting on the ground in the middle of the woods, it can only mean one thing. He’s given me over to the Wolves to hunt. I look up suddenly, groaning from the pain in my head, my eyes are blurry, yet I will them to focus.

“Well, you’re finally awake,” someone says to my right. I turn my head slowly and come face to face with Patrick Edgewood, Alpha of the Edgewood pack. He is tall and bulky, with amber eyes, a shaved head, and skin as black as night. There is a scar that runs down the middle of his left eye. I heard he received it in a challenge he was issued a few months ago. He is terrifying. His pack are notorious for hunting other students during our nightly lockdowns of death. The sounds of howls and growls haunts my dreams at night as they run through the Quads after some unfortunate soul who made themselves a target.

“I thought I was going to have to get Sam here to piss on you to wake you up. Now there's no need,” Patrick smiles maliciously as he begins to unbutton his uniform shirt, sliding it and his blazer off in one swift motion. The smooth black skin of his chest shines in the fire light. As I take a look around, my breath catches as I silently count twenty-five of his pack standing around waiting for the last of the daylight to fall way from the trees. Even with the fire I shiver. There is no way out of this. They’re going to make me run. I’m going to die here tonight.

I bow my head, praying to the Blue Mountains gods for strength. The prayer comes to me easily, giving me comfort to face the inevitable. This is what my High Priestess wanted. To get rid of me. Now, she will have her wish come true. I want nothing more than to walk back into my coven and show her that I wasn’t a waste of a Witch. That I am a strong seer, despite my human father. I guess fate has other plans.

When I raise my head again, all of the Wolves stand naked around the fire, waiting. Shadows begin to disappear around us as the day gives way to the night. A twig snaps and I jump at the sound as another figure stands over me, Samuel Baker, Patrick’s beta. He stands over me with shaggy brown hair that flops over his soulful green eyes. Samuel is as tall as Patrick but not as bulky, his olive skin glows in the retreating sun as he looks down at me with a hint of sadness in his expression. He and I have Astrology and Tarot classes together. He is always nice, the only person who was ever nice to me. He has a touch of the sight, but it only works for him by touch. We never talk outside of class, but that was fine by me. It was like we had our own understanding on the matter. I stayed away out in the open, and none of his Wolves bothered me, until now.

“I’m sorry, Esme,” he whispers as he unties my binds. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks because even with his apology, it feels like a betrayal. “No hard feelings, but we owe Larrieux a favor, and you know Patrick, he’s not going to say no to a hunt.” Sam shrugs, and I look away from him.

“Just like that. Like I’m nothing,” I say through my tears, my words are harsh and bitter on my tongue as bile rises in my throat for my own weakness. I’ve lived in fear of my Coven, of my future, of being seen as nothing more than a half breed with nothing to offer my entire life. My inability to accept myself, to be stronger, to hold my head up high against the naysayers is officially my downfall.

“You’re not—”

“Save it. I don’t want your pity or your kindness. I’m about to die, Sam!” I yell, fuck being meek, if this is my final moments of life, then I want them to blaze with the rage burning inside of me.

“Whoo hoo! It looks like someone’s ready to run!” Patrick throws his head back and howls, long and loud. The sound reverberates through me as Sam hauls me to my feet. The Wolves all shift, grey, white, black, brown, speckle-colored beasts with gigantic heads and massive paws. The other Wolves begin to howl one by one, and I know this is the beginning of the end for me.

“Run. Esme. Run!” Sam shouts as he shifts beside me. I scramble to my feet as they watch me turn and run through the trees. I move as fast as my throbbing head will allow, touching a sore spot where I must have fallen earlier. I chant a healing spell as I run for my life. I feel disoriented, I’ve never ventured into Willow Woods, even during the day for fear of something dangerous lurking within. I have no idea which direction the school is in or if I am running deeper into the grasp of death. At first, all I can hear is the heavy inhales and exhales of my own breathing. I guess they are giving me a head start, but with no real sense of direction, I am screwed.

A sharper howl, almost like a bark catches my ear from somewhere behind me. It is a signal to find me, to hunt me down, and savagely tear me to pieces. I run harder, searching for somewhere to hide, but I know they will find me. I know they have my scent, who knows how long they had me tied to the tree unconscious. I am sure they all got a nice deep sniff.

My heart beats wildly and I struggle to breathe as I push my body to its limit. I may as well stop and wait for them right here and now. I have my Water Elemental magic. I could hold a few of them at bay but I have to be realistic, it is twenty-five against one.

The sound of paws are behind me. It forces a scream from deep down within me. I scream for anyone to hear, for anyone to help me, to save me, and even while I scream, I’m cursing myself for not being able to save myself.

Suddenly, I’m flying. My feet uselessly search for ground from the force of the impact of the Wolf behind me. Finally, I hit the ground, biting my tongue when I land, blood instantly spills into my mouth as Patrick’s white wolf stalks me. I try to scrabble away but my back hits a boulder, and there is nowhere to go.

I throw my hands out with a scream, hitting him with the force of my water magic and he goes sliding back, colliding with some of his pack mates. As I watch them go, Sam’s brown wolf comes into view. I can feel his big round amber eyes plead with me to get up as he blocks me for a brief moment as the other Wolves fight off my magic. I get up and climb up the boulder, cutting off my magic so I can escape. I hear a yelp behind me, and I see Sam’s Wolf go flying as Patrick knocks him back with a growl. I swing my leg over to slide down on the other side of the rock, when sharp teeth clamp down on my ankle. I’m wrenched off the rock, its jagged edges cut into my skin as I’m thrown to the ground. The Wolves circle around me, moving slowly, eyeing Patrick for the signal to charge. I’m in so much pain, I can’t move or scream.

This is how I will die, with nothing but regret to welcome me into the stars.

Twenty-One

TRYS

We are running. I love to run, especially at night. The blood pumping through my veins, the thrill of someone’s death sends my heart aflutter. My fingers twitch at my sides, the beast inside of me pushes hard against the restraints, the souls at my disposal moan in pleasure, begging for me to wreak havoc on my enemies. Although Patrick and his Wolves aren’t our enemies, I may feel a tiny bit bad that Rodyn has roped them into one of his stupid assed attempts to hurt Micah. Speaking of Micah, she runs ahead of us, letting her instincts guide her. Her training as a Light Guardian shines through as she takes on the role of huntress. The little spirit is one of us. If something happened to her a little piece of Micah will die with her.

Rodyn didn’t read the books, which surprises me because he is always too precise in his research. This is desperation. Hasty. This is a strike first and ask questions too late attempt from him. Right now, he is reckless. I used to like that about him. Now, I want to go home where I know he will be partying to cover up the fact that he has done this and kill everyone around him just to shit in his face. Does he even care about Ty and me? How would this affect us? Of course not. We are his attack dogs. He doesn’t care Micah came into my life, giving me back a tiny portion of my sanity. He doesn’t care because our happiness, this small pulsing beat of goodness in our hearts, means nothing to him. It’s not a part of his plans to rise to the top. Our mother’s plans. They don’t care what is left of us when the smoke clears. As long as we kill when they need us to.

Micah stops. Her face is calm, but her eyes give away her fright as she listens to the little spirit’s screams. Her head tilts left and then she is bounding over the large rock in front of her like a gymnast. My dick becomes as hard as that rock as I watch her powerful muscles move underneath her clothes, her knives at the ready, her focus absolute. She’s hunting for the monsters that go bump in the night, and all she’s missing is the glowing tattoos that I’ve read the Light Guardians receive when they graduate Caelum Academy.

I glance quickly at Ty, the crazed look in his eyes, his lips pulled back in a sneer with one of his knives clenched between his teeth. He’s feeling it too. This is going to get bloody. I hope it’s not the entire pack because they are all dying tonight. I really liked some of those guys. Oh well, you hurt my girl in any way, you will meet a swift end or a long tortuous one depending on which way my mood pendulum swings.

“They're up ahead, kitten,” Ty says to Micah, causing her to slow her sprint to a trot. I crack my knuckles and neck waiting for my sunshine to give me the go ahead. We move around the rock in front of us and move with stealth as another scream from our little spirit makes Micah flinch. I look to Ty, and I nod before I call on my souls to do my bidding. As a Necromancer, I can pull the souls from the in-between, the ones who refuse to pass over, the dark and twisted ones who love to feast on flesh. I call to them now, giving them their orders to kill as many Wolves as they can. The white fog pours from my hands, and I reach out to grab my sunshine, to stop her from startling from its sudden appearance.

“Just leveling the playing field, my beloved. They will be so busy dying that we can go in for the kill easily,” I tell her. She nods her head in understanding. A Wolf yelps and crashes into the trees beside us, jumping up and running away from the others. None of us stop the Wolf, whoever they are should be grateful we allowed them to live.

We watch as my fog rolls over the ground slowly, my souls searching for their target until the first yelp and painful howl reaches my ears. I sigh. Best soundtrack ever! Before I can give a battle cry, Micah begins to run, leaping onto a huge rock and diving into the melee. Ty wraps his shadow magic around him, and he is moving through the trees like a black tornado of death. Any Wolves that my souls miss, his shadows will envelop instantly, wrapping around them tightly, the black smoky tendrils ripping them apart until their fur, bones, and entrails fall to the ground like gruesome glitter. Most of my job is done, my only mission, because I’ve made it so, is to get to little spirit and save her for my girl.

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