Chapter 1 - Andora

HUNJI

Day 3 of the quest I had been given by our Queen, Lamia: To find the witch Morgan, Finnegan’s sister, and bring her home.

I was already a day behind, the truck I had been given by the now Alpha Jasper of Bhakhil, broke down yesterday morning. Causing me to run in wolf form, find a cave in the foothills of the Andora mountain range and rest for the night. At first light I shifted into my wolf, letting Ruda lead the way, once again.

Some hours later, well into the late afternoon, we had made our way to the first city, only a couple of hundred miles outside the capital where the Megaron was situated in Bozgvol. I shifted back into my human form behind a house on the outskirts and threw on the loose pair of pants I had stuffed in my backpack, fastening the retractable vest that held my swords.

It had been years since I had traveled through Andora, 9 to be exact. Andora was a beautiful and rich country, surrounded by a border of low-laying mountains rich with quartz. most structures were made with sandstone, but the richer cities were built using granite and imported marble from their neighbor.

Andora was home to many shifter races, all living in harmony. It’s where the entrepreneurs and traders gathered, making their way to the capital to sell their goods to the scholars and rich. Nine years ago, I had come here under orders in search of the chosen. My mentors believed that if the new queen had been born, it would most likely be in this country. I had wasted over a year looking for her here, only to find her four years later on the first continent in an Academy for Alphas.

I remember the first day I laid eyes on her. Lamia Langley. Barely seventeen and taller than most she-wolves; strawberry blond hair with a black streak that stood out. Her eyes were the most captivating green I had ever seen, like the purest of emeralds from the richest of mines. When she smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back at her, the warmth of that smile seeping deep into your heart. Even my cold dead heart had reacted, my wolf, Ruda had whimpered at the sight of her. Mentally rolling over ready to comply and do anything she asked. We immediately knew who she was, immediately felt protective over her, drawn to her. Don’t ask me how or why, because that didn’t matter, and I couldn’t give myself or anyone that answer.

I was 28 at the time, eleven years her senior, and for the longest time, I confused my connection to her with something more than just being protective. I thought I was in love with her. Both my wolf and I looked forward to spending every day with her, the reason we convinced ourselves to get up in the morning and suffer the pretense of being a teacher. Letting the Academy Deans and other professors think we were something we were not.

Until it was time for her and the prince to leave the academy earlier than expected. I left with them under the disguise of protecting the prince, Kellen. When truly I was there for her.

It became apparent to me early on how strong she was, how capable and fierce she could be. Yet, as tough as Lamia was, is, she had a kindness about her, a sense of justification, a love she would give to anyone and see them for who they were. That’s what scared me about her, that her innocence could be taken advantage of, and her ability to forgive would be used against her. The more I got to know Lamia the more I realized, I wasn’t in love with her, I just loved her. A simple love, akin to an older brother or an uncle but never like the way Mike and Kellen love her. Their threesome was impenetrable and her bond to Kellen was something I was jealous of. Maybe because I knew I never could or ever had that type of bond. Not even with my mate.

Three years later Lamia has now been crowned Queen of shifters, and her now mate Mathias, the king of bears, is crowned alongside her as the king of shifters.

When the King of the werewolves, Kellen, went missing she had asked me to accompany his Beta Mike, and the King Mathias’ 2^nd in command, Tobias to go find him and bring him home because she couldn’t. She trusted me with the job she couldn’t and then gave me the task of finding a witch. Morgan. The sister of Finnegan, the half-brother to Mathias, and both are the son of the now dead Orion; Killed by Mathias’s own hands in the battle for Riocht.

I’m the old man of the group and no matter how much they value me, I will never be a part of them, Knight of the queen or not. I am the expendable one, the one that shouldn’t be here, and the one that shouldn’t be alive. By all accounts, I should have died 13 years ago. A question I always ask myself, every time my eyes open: why am I still alive? Why did the gods let that old priestess find me so many moons ago and bring me back from the dead? Why did they allow me to live?

I still wonder what my role is in this story, and believe me there is more to this story than any of us know. I can feel it, see it unfolding, almost taste it. The last three years have just been a prelude to something bigger, something yet unseen and unknown. Lamia and Mathias may be the main characters, but we all had a role, an important part to play. Unfortunately, the script of our lives had been hidden away or maybe it just hasn’t been written yet.

So here I am in Andora, a city on the outskirts of the country. Looking around I see a sign for a bed and breakfast. It was late in the afternoon, too late to carry on my journey to Megaron, and could do with a good night’s sleep.

I push the old heavy wooden door open casting a glance around the place. A young woman is seated behind the front desk and her head immediately pops up from whatever held her attention, her eyes meeting mine and roaming over my stature before bringing them back to my face and giving me a wide smile, her face slightly flushing in appreciation. By the way she is chewing on her bottom lip, she likes what she sees.

“Can I help you?” Hopefulness in her eyes, tells me she would be more than willing to help me with more than just a room. But I Ignore the way she looks at me, her pink cheeks, and the way she pushes out her breasts in an attempt to catch my attention.

“I need a room, just for the night,” I say not meeting her stare, not wanting to engage any more than getting a room key and paying her.

“Of course, sir, Will it just be you?” When I nod, I catch a glimpse of her eyes widening with excitement and look away quickly. I don’t want to go there, can’t be bothered with turning her down. So, I ignore it and kept my face stoic and impassive.

“That will be 50 coins,” she says sliding the room key across the desk to me. I take out the bag of money Alpha Jasper had given to me before leaving Bhakhil and throwing down two silver coins. Reaching for the key the girl’s hand lands on top of mine “I would be more than happy to help you relax sir, or if there is anything else I can help you with,” It’s not a question, she is offering herself up on a silver platter for me, offering me her body.

I cringe and finally lift my eyes to hers and hold them “Just room, thank you.” I say it slowly making sure she gets the gist. She doesn’t because her fingers are gently stroking mine. I whip the key and my hand from under hers, holding back the shudder of disgust I feel from her touch.

The girl is human and pretty, but I can smell several males that have already been all over her and if I had been interested the scent of other males is enough to put me off. The girl was obviously a prostitute if not then she had serious commitment issues “Is this a brothel?” I ask her, seriously. Her head jerks back in surprise and her eyes narrow and glare at me with disdain from my insult.

“No!” She scoffs.

I bit my tongue, but it didn’t help the words just spewed out “You certainly smell like one.” Her eyes widened with the realization that I was a shifter, and she snatched her hand back from me so quickly I thought she was going to throw her shoulder out.

“Your room is on the second floor.” She spat out now angry that I had called attention to her promiscuous ways.

I nodded a thank you and headed for the stairs I could see just behind the desk. Finding my room, I unlocked and glanced around at the simple furnishings; a double bed that sat under a small window with a light green quilt covering it. A white nightstand sat beside it and a matching dresser was on the opposite wall behind the door. On the far left was another open door leading to the bathroom. Looking in there was a sink and bathtub that housed a shower. Simple. Plain. I didn’t need anything more for just the night. This was a luxury compared to some of the places I have been in my lifetime.

I threw my bag on the bed and stripped my clothes, heading back to the bathroom and turning on the shower, stepping in before the water had even warmed up. The coolness of the spray quickly turned warm as I began to wash myself down using the provided soap.

I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be on this quest Lamia had sent me on. I wanted to go home, where I had been comfortable and stable. Where I had thought I had finally found my place. I knew 'home' would no longer be at Mac-Tire, instead, I would be moving to Riocht with the King and queen, still serving as the queen’s 2^nd in command and Tobias would be serving as the king’s 2^nd. It was never the ‘where’ that made it home, it was the ‘who’ and Lamia was my home. I would follow her through the gates of the underworld if that’s what it took.

My hands scrubbed down my body, lathering the soap across the planes of my chest and abs, going lower until I reached between my legs, palming my dick and running a rough hand over it to clean it. It had been years since I had touched a woman and given in to my desires. I came close three years ago, and almost took what I so desperately wanted, almost. I just couldn’t do it, no matter what my urges were.

I gripped my dick tighter when the vision of Tawny filled my head. She had been so young then, so innocent. She wanted me and I wanted her, but I turned away. I wouldn’t allow myself to get lost in her to take her innocence. I should have because almost every day since then I thought about that moment in the motel room. Trapping the little kitty against the door and scenting her arousal had me twisting in knots wanting more than anything to fuck her.

The grip tightened around my now hard shaft and my hand began to stroke faster as I remembered Tawny’s yellow eyes looking up at me, her chest heaving and her heart racing. She licked her lips as her gaze roamed down my body which was only covered by a towel around the waist.

“It’s been a long time since I have tasted beautiful” I growled low into her ear. It took all my strength to walk away from her, slam that bathroom door, and get dressed.

I braced my hand on the wall, pumping my cock through my calloused palm harder. I imagined that moment going differently. Instead of turning away from her, I should have dragged her to the bed and torn her clothes off. Licked her gleaming black skin from head to toe, bit her nipples, and listened to her moan my name. I should have sunk my dick deep into her virgin pussy while she squirmed and begged me for more.

My balls tightened and the heat in my lower back seared as I gave myself a few last strokes before coming all over the shower wall “Tawny” I whispered her name as my dick jerked in my hand with its last stream of seed spilling out into the open. I gave myself another quick rinse before shutting off the shower and snagging a towel that had been provided on a shelf above the toilet.

What woman would want this? I question myself, now staring at my reflection in the half-steamed mirror. My eyes settled over at the angry scars of my past that litter my chest, back, and further down my legs. My whole body was covered in scars. One of the many real reasons I haven't touched a woman in years. Contrary to popular belief not all scars can be healed on a shifter.

 A reminder of the love I cherished, the love my mate couldn't return. The reason for my other scars – was the punishment placed on me before my exile. By order of the king, my father... My eyes settled on my dick now hidden beneath the white towel where the evidence from the lick of the whip tip dipped in silver & wolfsbane marred my junk. It disgusted me most of the time when I felt the three raised welts that still lingered there a reminder that I could have been less of a man than I already felt.

Over the years I have learned to forgive, not forget, and never forget. I had paid my penance almost with my life, almost with my wolf's life. I sought my redemption for a long time. Forgave myself, forgave my mate, and even still - I knew I would never be forgiven in the eyes of the moon goddess. Despite what the priestess had said to me, I knew my crime was not justifiable. There was always another way, things I should have done differently, ways I could have controlled the situation. If I hadn't given into my wolf’s anger, his madness and vengefulness that had seeped into me, maybe things would be different now.

I shook my head and turned away from the mirror. There was no point wondering the ‘what ifs’, no point contemplating my earlier life choices. The past was just that - the past. There was nothing I could do to change it and through the years that followed, I understood, I didn't want to change it.

It took me a long time to come to terms with that thought. After many years of healing, many years of studying, and many years of training, I finally understood myself. I was given a purpose, reborn, and given a new name and a new life.

That purpose and life have brought me where I am today. The first time I laid eyes on Lamia Langley I knew she was special, the chosen one. I knew I would follow her, protect her, serve her in any way she asked, in any way she needed. Lamia, Kellen, Mike, and Travis had become my family. I looked over them like the big brother, like I did long ago for my sister.

It didn't matter that I was more than 10 years their senior. They respected me, not because I was their teacher and mentor, it was in spite of those things, they had become my friends and then family.

When I first arrived at the Alpha Academy just over 3 years ago, landing there in my search for the chosen one, the queen of shifters, I had still been lost in myself. Alone. Still trying to find my place in my new life, where I belonged on this new continent. The world here is vastly different from the one I grew up in. The second continent was far behind in some ways yet advanced in others.

I came from a kingdom where Automotives were for the rich and powerful, where horses and buggies were still used, and where were-folk only shifted in battle or extreme circumstances. The fashion was old realm-y compared to the casual jeans and tees they wore there. There were-folk shifted all the time. Didn't just rely on their weapons or hands, they embraced their animal counterparts and would let them out to run for fun, not because they were in battle or fighting for a title.

They had a council there, a justice system. Not just one man's command. My fated was the only one for me. I would never take a mistress; my mate was the only woman I would ever want and need.

This is the reason I now find myself looking for the sister of Finnegan Artos, the last true witch in Andora. For Lamia, for my Queen - No one else. It’s because she asked that I am here searching for a girl no one has seen with only Finnegan’s description and the diary of a dead woman to guide me.

Find her and bring her home. That was all I had to do.