Claire was staring at Elias. Or at least, she had been. He was threatening to use the sire bond on her. Or at least, he had been. And that wolf, Colin, was trying to defend her for some reason. Or at least, he had been.
But then, she started spinning. Like when she was a child and would sit in her father’s office chair as her sisters spun her around and around. The kind of dizzy that made the world blur into colors.
And after the dizziness, she wasn’t in her garden. She was in a damp cellar, behind a wall of bars, surrounded by gray concrete. Weakened and confused, Claire dropped to her knees and gagged, the back of her throat burning as she hacked.
“I do not think vampires can throw up. But I suppose that you may be an exception to every rule,”
“My dad died seven years ago,” Claire answered coolly.Jocelyn smirked wickedly and feigned embarrassment. Shaking her head, she replied with the same bubbly tone she had used when first meeting Claire in the cage, “My mistake! Of course, your dad is dead. But your father.” Her eyes twinkled as she laughed mischievously, “Your birth father, however, is there.”Claire stood, dumbfounded. She had no witty retort because for some reason, she knew that the old woman was not lying. “How?” she whispered, unsure of what else to say.“No, no. That is not how this will work.” Jocelyn took her seat again, clearly happy to be back in control of the situation. “You will get your answers in turn for cooperation.”Claire’s eyes narrowed, but she was not surprised. She sat on the floor, realizing just how exhausted she was. Closing her eyes, she ignored the witch. If the old woman
Colin ran through the woods until he reached the border of their lands. He sniffed the air and knew that a patrol would be around sooner rather than later, so he only had a minute. By now, his father would have given an order just shy of ‘kill on site.’ Colin shifted back into his human form and rooted around some fallen logs until he found his pack. He had them stashed all over the woods, waiting for Peter to banish him. He slipped on the shorts, shivering slightly in the cold air. He would adjust soon, but the switch from being covered in thick fur to bare skin was always jarring. He had fifty bucks, two knives, a canteen, and some food. He took a bite of dried venison and walked through the neutral mile that separated the Yew Coven and the Half-Moon Pack’s lands. He knew that Claire was there, and his father had forbidden him from staying at the vampire’s home, but not from f
Claire hummed softly as she leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. It was an old French song that Elias sang to her years ago. Some sort of lullaby sung during to the royal children the early Capetian dynasty, back when the French were called ‘Francs.’ It was originally a Troubadour’s ballad about a young noblewoman learning to dance with her milk brother, and how they secretly fell in love. He had hummed it in the beginning, back when the pain kept her awake and paralyzed, when it was all that she could think of. She hadn’t even remembered that he was the one who taught it to her until she went to sing the words under her breath and realized they were Old French, not English. That made her stop and burn with rage, both at herself and Elias. “Don’t stop on my account,” a tired voice said from the other side of the room.&nbs
“Vampires don’t have mates,” Claire said, fuming. This wolf, Colin, was trying to make a fool of her. Colin fought back a laugh. “I know. Neither do most witches. But my pack has had a long-standing bond with the Yew Coven. Every generation, a witch mates with a wolf of the alpha line,” he said proudly; his hatred for his father ran deep, but he could not deny the power that the words made his wolf, and him, feel. Colin had thought that he had a human mate who had been turned into a vampire, and that was why she did not smell like either. It was so much more; she was so much more. He was not sure what reaction he expected, but silence certainly was not it. That was all he received. A blank, silent stare as Claire fell into panic. ‘The
With every step that Jocelyn and her goons took towards Claire, Colin’s growl grew louder and louder. It rumbled the ground as Jocelyn opened the door to the cell, but it didn’t faze them. They could see his fangs drop, his eyes turn amber, and hear his bones crack as he tried to shift. But the enchanted silver cuffs around him did their job of protecting them. There wasn’t enough to hurt him the way the silver room in the packhouse did, but it was enough to bring him to his knees as he helplessly watched them pick her up. “What are you doing? Where are you taking her?” he growled, clutching his cracked ribs. Jocelyn turned on her heels and marched up to his door. One of the witches, the same one that had dropped the boulder onto Colin’s back, followed with a stony glar
Claire struggled to keep her head up as Jocelyn walked towards her. She could hear Colin growl, along with the sound of snapping bones. “What are you doing? Where are you taking her?” he snarled at the witches.“I would never hurt my granddaughter, Mr. Lucin. But you on the other hand? Look at yourself! You can’t even control your own shifting!” Jocelyn countered after she marched up to his door.He snarled in response, but Claire heard another bone snap. He moaned in pain, a pain that Claire could feel in the air. She tried to call out to him, “Colin?”“Don’t worry about him, dearie,” the Priestess replied for him.Her snide tone only made Claire push forward against the witch blocking her path. “Don’t hurt him!” she begged.The witch, a short, dark-skinned woman with cropped curls, rolled her eyes as she moved closer. Claire kicked her foot out, trying to knock th
Claire slowly opened her eyes, wincing as the fluorescent light of the room blinded her. She tried to sit up, but a shooting pain ran down her spine, and she remembered the last thing that happened before she passed out. She wanted to growl and curse the old Priestess, but she felt too weak to do more than groan while rolling onto her side. The door slowly opened, and she stiffened, hating how fear coursed through her. Gritting her teeth over her throbbing body’s argument, she sat up against the wall on the bed, glaring at the entryway. It was the man, the one who brought Colin in. The one who Jocelyn sent after him. Claire growled softly as he closed the softly, staring at her. He rubbed the back of his bald head, a clear expression of guilt on his face. Reaching up, he snapped the vent shut, and almost immediately, C
Jones’s words rang in Claire’s ears over and over again. “He decided to pretend that you didn’t exist. He gave up.” He gave up on the life of his child. She wanted to ask a hundred more questions; how long did he look? Where did he look? Did he really pretend that she didn’t exist? When was the last time he thought of her? Did he still love her? Did he ever love her? Claire hated how these thoughts wormed their way into her brain and tried desperately to block them out. All her life, her birth father had abandoned her birth mother. He had been a selfish specter, but not a haunting one. To say that he had occupied even the back of her mind offered him too much credit. But now, seeing a pair of eyes that looked so much like her own, she suddenly needed to know him.&nbs
The moment Claire stepped foot on the gravel, a she-wolf raced up to her, pulling her into a bear hug. “I’m so excited to finally meet you!” she squealed.Claire didn’t move. She could hear the wolf’s heart beat jumping with her. The way her blood pumped. The way her blood smelt. She was getting dizzy.Colin noticed the stressed body language of his mate and pried the young woman off with a laugh, “Relax. Introduce yourself at the very least.”Slightly embarrassed, she stepped back, throwing her long, brown hair over her shoulder. A young man, about Colin’s age, stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist, offering her a foolish love-struck grin. He looked a bit like Colin too. He stuck his hand out with a smile and said, “I’m Reed, and this is Kali.”Claire smiled slightly, taking his giant hand in her own. “Claire,” she replied softly.Colin wanted to pick up h
Alpha Peter stared at the hybrid, a delighted look on his face. Claire had noticed his malevolent grin and would not look up. She simply stared at the seat, where Colin’s hand sat just next to hers. He was fighting to stay awake, drifting in and out of consciousness. But each time he closed his eyes, she would brush her fingers against his, jolting him back. He knew that it was out of fear, that she did not wish to be left alone, but he relished the contact wholeheartedly. Peter leaned back in his seat, sipping from a glass tumbler. They had a nearly two-hour drive ahead of them. He had time to do this. But he was an impatient man. “You shall stay in the pack house, of course.” Claire stiffened,
Elias stepped forward, frowning. He placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder, who offered him a disproving glance before stepping away, still helping Colin stay upright. As more time passed, he was growing weaker and weaker. His body needed to rest in order to flush out the massive amounts of wolfsbane in him, but his severely weakened wolf wouldn’t let him; his mate needed help. “She will come back with me,” Elias stated calmly. “Like hell I will,” Claire muttered under her breath. Ife grinned. “Well, Mademoiselle Claire, unfortunately we cannot leave you unattended.” Elias growled at the King quietly, but everyone could hear him anyways. “She should come with her family,” Jocelyn rep
The dryad looked at the hybrid, who had distanced herself from her sire. They wondered briefly what the two had spoken of but quickly became apathetic to it all. They simply wished to return to the Fae Wilds at this point. “If the hybrid does not have magic, there is no need to consider a threat. Just as witches have lost their power when turned into werewolves, we will treat this as the same case. Any development of magic will result in the immediate execution of the hybrid and the sire.” Marwen turned to Elias. “You are forbidden from siring for the next century, when we shall reassess your case. Any attempts to do so will result in the immediate execution of yourself and any progeny made in that time.” Elias shrugged, uncaring. He had no intention of siring any time soon. In the past 1,500 years, he had sired only three vampires. Though when he was first turned, he used his ability l
There was a visible tremor of shock that ran through The Council Members after Jocelyn announced so calmly that Claire should die. A small squeak of fear escaped the hybrid’s lips, but she did not give the witch the satisfaction of looking in her direction. Marwen only narrowed their eyes in anger. “The Council did not ask for your opinion on the matter, Priestess. And we do not appreciate it. You may leave.” They raised their voice and spoke above the fire, “Elias Elhassan.” Jocelyn left, the matter-of-fact smile still on her face. Elias glowered at her as they passed one another. Immediately, he stood by Claire and reached his hand out to hers. Lifting her puffy face up from her hands, she stared at him blankly, ignoring his outstretched ha
When Marwen decided that Jocelyn would ‘take the stand,’ as it were, Claire felt a bubble of hope flutter around her chest. She would have to tell the truth. She would admit that everything she said about Elias was a lie, and that Claire wasn’t really a witch with any powers, and that everything could go back to the way it had been those few minutes that she felt freedom. But the cruel smirk gracing her grandmother’s face quickly popped anything she felt. She wore that smile as the High Priestess created the same blood spell, pressing it against the Priestess of The Yew Coven’s forehead. The dryad faced the old witch with a glare; they did not care for her cocky attitude, nor the fear that she struck into the hybrid. “You were listening
Ife Adeyemi stepped forward with a toothy grin. “Mademoiselle Claire, enchanté.” Claire looked hesitantly to Elias, who smiled encouragingly. “I understand that you are unfamiliar with The Council as a whole?” “I, um. Well, I,” she stammered, uncomfortable with the stares of so many on her. “I’ve done a bit of, I’ve read some.” Ife’s grin grew; he liked her. She was beautiful, yes. But too many vampires tried to stand too tall to him, tried too hard to seem confident. He liked that she was smart enough to be scared. “Well, it is my job to ensure that you do not lie. Unlike humans, we prefer to.” He
The ceremony surrounding The Council was not particularly extensive, but it was too much for the thin patience Elias had for the situation. Since The Council Meeting was called due to a vampire’s misconduct, Ife was responsible for most of the formalities, especially pertaining to evidence. Only the truth would be tolerated, and to ensure such, each representative of The Council had ways to force the truth out. The High Priestess casted a spell based in blood magic. The Alpha King commanded it. The fae representative carried a book charmed by the first fae queen, Titania. As for Ife, he simply told the vampires that they could not lie. As one of the men on trial, Elias was closely guarded by soldiers of each species. He could not care less. “Why is none of thi
Elias paced impatiently by the door. The sooner he came, the sooner all of this would be over, and he would have his child back. It pained him to think of what that witch was doing to her, what she was telling her. Elias had planned to eventually tell Claire the truth, but not until he was certain that she could handle it. And if she never developed any connections, he simply would never tell her. After all, enough of his lie was true that it would not be found out. The sound of a car turning up his gravel driveway did not put Elias at ease. The butler opened the front door with a deep bow as the master of the house sat in the drawing-room, drinking a cup of black tea mixed with enough laudanum to knock out an elephant. “Elias, my old friend!” a booming voice