** authors note Okt. 20th 2023: dea readers, I have rewritten chapter 6 and added parts that will be absolutely crucial to the story line, if you’ve already read chapter six, please re-read it before starting chapter 7. My apologies for the inconvenience**
Tara’s P.o.v.
Did I really just dream that whole thing, did I actually fall asleep on the sofa last night and have my mind just conjure up the entire part of barely sleeping, the walk, that strange voice that came from seemingly nowhere and the horror that ensued after? It would explain why I thought I saw a black bear further south than those animals have ever been reported and why I heard that voice without anyone being near,… it doesn’t explain the splitting headache or how bruised my back feels though. Maybe I hit my head too hard when I fell and this is actually the delusion, that would make some sense, but then again, the whole thing in the woods is just too weird to be real, heck, even mister Mason giving me the day off is just too out of character for the man. That must be it! I fell asleep on the sofa and my mind just went rampant, it created two whole days of weirdness and impossible events! None of it was real, I’m certain of that now, it’s the only logical explanation. But as I get up, my back screams in agony, what the hell did I do?I slowly and carefully make my way into the bathroom, it’s not just my back that hurts, it feels like I’ve been hit by a semi-truck. Letting my robe slide off my shoulders I try to take a look at my back but the mirror is just too small and to high up to see a thing while looking over my shoulder.
For the first time in almost 7 years, I wish I was back at my mother’s house, with the lavish bathroom and huge floor to ceiling mirror that covered nearly the entire wall. Back then I absolutely hated it since there was just no way to escape looking at yourself while taking a shower, unless of course you kept your eyes closed. Her appearance was the most important thing in the world to my mother, there were mirrors absolutely everywhere, if only her soul had been as beautiful as what those mirrors reflected back to her.Not wanting to think about her, I shake my head in attempt to rid myself of the memories, oooff.. wrong move! With the way my head feels one would think I had a concussion at the very least. I gently run my fingers through my hair, looking for anything that doesn’t belong on my scalp, a bump, maybe dried blood even, but I feel nothing of the kind.Did I drink last night? I don’t think I did, I’m not much of a drinker anyway so it’s doubtful. Checking the parts of my body I can actually see, I don’t find much to explain the way I’m feeling. There seems to be a small bruise on my knee, but it’s already starting to yellow so it must be a couple of days old already. I often bump into things at the diner so I’m not surprised, other than that single discoloration there is no visible evidence to explain the hurt I'm feeling. Though it’s dark outside and I have no idea what time it is, I decide to take a quick shower in the hopes of clearing my mind.Putting on a pair of sweatpants and a soft hooded sweater I wander around the house. I still can’t explain what the hell happened, or didn’t happen. Everything seems to be in it’s usual place, it truly looks like I got home from work, did my usual routines, crawled on the sofa and fell asleep, that is until I step out on the porch, the large cup I drank my coffee out of on my unexpected day off, still sits on the small coffee table next to my rocking chair. I never drink coffee at night and don’t take the time to sit outside if I have to go to work. I look past the garden and indeed, my truck is not there, so it did break down and I did walk through the woods to town. That means I also must’ve had the weird interactions of that day and mister Mason actually did give me a day off. But if that’s the case, why was it pitch black outside now when it was late morning when I started out on my little hike and there definitely were a couple of hours of daylight left when I got to that pond. My mind is reeling, there is just no way all that my mind tells me happened, is real.
Movement catches my eye, and for a second I think I see a man standing just past the white picket fence, but when I turn my head and look in that direction, it’s a dog, a huge dog! Even from this distance I can see it’s in a rough state, the moonlight that reflects off of what little fur is left on its body gives him or her an almost silvery shine. The dog is skinny, like it hasn’t eaten in weeks and what appears to be blood covering big parts of its body, poor thing! The darkness of the night and the state the animal is in, makes it hard to determine what breed it is, all I know is that its big and it's hurt.
Remembering the grey flash that may or may not have saved me from what could be a bear or a figment of my imagination, I cautiously approach the injured animal, my heart filled with a mix of concern and determination. Its large frame towers over me, but it’s eyes hold a glimmer of trust, despite the pain it obviously endured. The poor creature whines as I get closer.Careful to not scare it off I hunch down slightly further and stick my hand out, with the palm facing up. “Hi buddy” I coo, “are you ok? Can I have a look at your leg? “ in my mind I scoff at myself, like the animal is going to understand a word I’m saying, yeah right! But knowing that dogs do respond to voices and the tone used, I continue. "hey, come here, I won’t hurt you, it's all right, I just want to help." I coo to the animal again.The skinny animal steps forward just a little, placing it’s enormous head in the palm of my hand and I’m sure, had it been a cat, it would have purred. There’s a sort of rumble coming from its chest, soft and friendly sounding, so I softly pet his head, stroking the soft fur and inching a little closer. “I’m going to take a look at that foot ok?” and as if understanding me, it actually lifts its paw. I determine that what I thought to be blood, is indeed blood and from the angle of its foot, I would say its broken but in the dim moonlight it’s nearly impossible to see how badly wounded it really is. If I’m going to treat this animal, I will have to get it up to the house, somehow.With gentle whispers and reassuring gestures I coax the dog away from the garden fence and onto the safety of the porch, the bistro-style string lights I draped along the entire ceiling of my covered porch give off enough light to notice it’s a boy and truely assess the damage this sweet dog has sustained, his injuries are severe and not all of them seem recent, this dog has had a rough life by the looks of it. I fetch the first aid kit I keep in one of the kitchen cabinets and with steady hands examine each wound, I clean them meticulously, tenderly applying antiseptic solution and gently bandaging the deeper cuts.Throughout the process, the dogs eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. As I worked, the dogs tense body gradually relaxed, its breathing growing calmer, I could sense the trust and gratitude in every gaze he directed my way. The wounds were now addressed and what looked like a broken paw, was probably just due to the angle he lifted it up in, the scarce light and the tufts of hair missing, it seems fine for now, but I’ll have to see what happens when he puts his weight on it. Putting the first aid kit aside, I settle down on the porch, I’m sure the dog still needs solace and rest, giving him a reassuring pet and with a weary sigh, he rests his head upon my lap, its breathing growing deep and steady, the pain momentarily forgotten as sleep beckons him.With a tender touch I stroke the bits of fur on his head, my presence offering comfort and security. As the Dog drifts into a peaceful slumber, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of connection. In this quiet moment, it was as if the world stopped to acknowledge the bond that had formed between us. Looking up I noticed the moon had started its descend and behind the trees I could see the oranges and reds of a new day dawning beginning to rise, and in that moment, I vowed to care for this gentle giant, to provide the love and healing it deserved. With a new found purpose, I remained by its side, ready to stand as a steadfast companion throughout the dog’s journey to recovery.Christian’s P.o.v. I can’t believe she has been living in the old Devereaux’s place all this time, How did I not notice that every time I caught whiff of sandalwood, jasmin, coriander with a touch of cinnamon in the air, the wind had been blowing from the east. Why did I not check the boundary on that side of the barrier more often? When Joe suggested I go there and wait, I thought he would bring Linda there, maybe check if she would have another vision, rattle up a second prophecy on what would come next or something, anything really.. I never expected to see Tara come walking down the path hours later. I had contemplated leaving several times, to run back to town and tear those traitorous Jackson brothers a new one, just for being near my sweet girl, purely for being a possible threat to her and admittedly also for the hand they most likely had in my misery of the past two decades, but Jack was right. If his son hadn’t stopped me when he did, I certainly would have done more dam
Christian’s P.o.v.At some point I must’ve shifted back, but I don’t recall how or when, was it during Linda’s revelation? Did it happen when she rested her hand on top of my wolf’s head or maybe when she finished speaking the words that still play through my mind like a broken record, over and over again? All I know is that I felt weak, my legs didn’t seem to work and my arms were like puddy. The world around me seemed to be covered in a thick layer of mist, making it hard to distinguish what was right in front of me. I think I heard voices in the distance, but couldn’t make out what they were saying, I’m assuming it was Jack, David and Linda, but I can’t be entirely sure, the sounds were too muffled to recognize. By the time I finally came out of my dazed state, I was laying on the moss covered ground, covered by a layer of leaves, that retched barrier mere inches behind me. I think the three of them brought me here, they must have, I sure as hell wasn’t able to walk here by mysel
Christian’s p.o.v. It’s still the early hours of dusk when I settle down beneath a tree, I have a clear view of Tara’s home, but I’m concealed enough to remain out of sight. Although I haven’t seen any sign of her Wolf on her, I make sure I’m up wind from the cottage, just to be on the safe side. I’m not sure if she remembers my scent or knows anything about the life we had. Does she have any recollection of being snatched away from her home and the horrendous manner in which that happened? She was so young, even though it pains me, I pray it has all been erased from her mind. Sitting there, wandering what her life had been like, time passes. Questions about which school she attended, if she had any close friends, hobbies, it all remains unanswered of course, oh how I would’ve loved to know her through all those years, through her first day of school, a first love or broken heart, her graduation, getting her drivers license, I missed it all.The cold of the morning dew is starting
Tara’s p.o.v. The animal on my lap seems content, but my legs are going numb under the weight of its head.As I try to wiggle out from under him, he softly grunts and whines, I don’t want to hurt him, but if I don’t get the blood in my legs flowing again, I might never walk again. Just as I manage to free one leg without waking up the gentle giant, a small car pulls up and in an instant the Dog is up on all 4’s, growling with it’s hackles raised, almost seeming protective of me. I scramble to my feet, the tingle of blood reaching my extremities again making it more difficult than it should be and place my hand comforting on top of the animals head, recognizing Linda’s bright orange AMC Gremlin, yet another relic this town seems to have an abundance of. As she steps out of her car and through the little gate her eyes are locked on my new friend, a silent understanding seemingly passing between them. “good morning Darlin’ Linda calls out. “who do we have here?” she asks while walkin
I sat around the side of the house, just out of sight but close enough to jump into action if needed.Linda told me her plan, let Tara tell her life story, see what she does or doesn’t know about her history, and then introduce me.. I’m nervous as hell, how would she react to seeing her father after a quarter century.I couldn’t help but snort when Linda said she wasn’t here about the wolf because that’s exactly why she’s here! But I understand, Tara doesn’t seem to know a thing about our world and to just flat out tell her the wolf is her dad.. she’d think Linda was absolutely bat-shit crazy for sure.Listening in on her life story made me sad and angry. Although she wasn’t physically abused, the utter neglect and lack of loving connection definitely left emotional scars. I think I understand why somethings in her home and wardrobe look as if a child had picked it out, she’s nurturing a part of herself that had been uncared for, and to me that speaks of her inner strength. She wasn’t
Tara’s P.o.v. What the actual hell? After all this time thinking of Linda like a mother, or a grandmother, a friend.. she goes and pulls something like this? There’s a reason I don’t talk about my past, and once again I’m proven right, you can’t trust anyone in this world. What kind of game does she think she’s playing? What can she possible gain from this? My father, I scoff, does she really believe I can be taken for a fool, just like that? The tall, slender man she introduced me to, although decently dressed, was obviously a bum, a drifter, a derelict! Other than the blonde waves that adorned his head, he looks nothing like the man in my mother’s faded photograph.After pacing up and down my kitchen a couple of million times and getting myself more worked up by the minute, I angrily step out of the house, I’m going to find Linda and tell her exactly what I think of her and demand she explains herself! But as soon as I step over the threshold, I nearly fall flat on my face. Stu
Christian’s p.o.v. I can’t believe I blurted it out like that! I would face-palm myself were it not for the fact that my wolf took over and I now I’m back on four paws, “thanks buddy, now I don’t have any clothes to put on when we shift back.” I say as sarcastically as possible. My wolf huffs in my head, “our pup wanted answers and you were taking too long” he grumbles. “stupid impatient mutt”“can you at least ask her for some shorts or something? You know I can’t link her as long as she hasn’t accepted her beast yet.” “Beasts” he interrupts me, emphasizing the S… “two” and I’m taken aback,.. “You mean she has two spirits right? One beast, one human” …”No, three spirits, two beasts.”I’m not entirely sure what that means or what the consequences of that might be for her, I’ve never heard of a shifter with a double animal spirit before. After bickering back and forth for what feels like an eternity, my wolf finally concedes and asks Tara, who is still looking at us like she just sa
Tara’s p.o.v. Riding on the back of a wolf, who could ever imagine something like that? He’s fast and agile, his movements are the epitome of a well skilled hunter, a beast made to chase prey through any kind of terrain, which makes feeling his bones sticking through his skin all the more concerning. I knew he was too skinny, not just the wolf, but the man as well and it makes me wonder if maybe they’re sick.With my body practically glued to the animals back, I can feel each and every ripple of muscle, there is no doubt in my mind he is strong, so why are they that thin? He’s been running for what feels like hours when the realization hits me that I never offered him any food, not when I thought he was an injured dog, and not when he turned out to be the man who fathered me. Oh my god I’m an awful person!! I scold myself when we suddenly come to a stop. I let myself glide off his back and look around, I’m not sure where we are, or why, but it is beautiful here. The cold nose nudging
Tara’s p.o.v. I’m restless. It’s been like this for a while now. There’s a burning sensation, deep within, like embers left to smolder for far too long, threatening to ignite if I don’t keep it contained. I can feel her stirring—the beast. Both of them, actually. I know it’s them, even if they’re not exactly the same, but they are. The wolf and the other.. the.. I dunno.. It doesn’t matter what they are. They are part of me, and they want out.The wolf is easier to deal with. She’s like the breeze on a warm spring day, playful, curious, and eager for a good run. I feel her nipping at the edges of my consciousness, her soft growls and happy whines as she tugs at my very essence. She’s impatient, wanting to chase, wanting to play. She’s a lot like me, in a way. Simple. Pure. She doesn’t understand the burden, the weight of everything that’s coming for me.Then there’s the other one. The one that burns and smolders beneath my skin like molten rock. The one that never sleeps, never calms
The roar of the crowd was my symphony, their bloodthirsty cheers a melody that stirred something primal within me. I sat atop my throne, the pit sprawling before me like a stage, where shifters danced to the rhythm of life and death. My necklace of trophies, claws, and fangs rattled faintly with every shift of my weight, a subtle reminder of the victories I had claimed. These beasts needed to know their place. They were born with power, yes, but that power was raw, untamed, and ultimately inferior to human ingenuity and control. I’d built this empire to show them that.Tonight, I expected no less than the usual spectacle. Two shifters entered the pit, one young and trembling, the other bruised but defiant. I leaned forward slightly, intrigued. The older one, Christian, had been a prize catch, the rogue shifter known for his cunning. Breaking him would be a triumph, I thought that takings his wife and child’s lives all those years ago would have done the trick but here he stands, capt
I watch from the shadows as Christian is dragged back to the cells. His head is lowered, his posture slumped, but there's something about him that doesn't break. His face is bloodied, a bruise already swelling beneath one eye, but his eyes, they're still burning with fire, still defiant, still unyielding. I can’t help but feel a flicker of something deep inside me. Hope? No. Maybe something worse.This place has taken so much from me,...so much from all of us. We’ve been chained and broken, forced to fight, to survive, to serve as entertainment for those who think they control our lives. And yet, here he is,..Christian, the rogue, the former guard, the legend, the one that brought bits of food and from what i heard, the one that saved so many when this all started.He’s not like the others. I can see it in the way he carries himself. The way his shoulders never fully slump, even when they shove him back into the cage. They throw him in like they’ve done to so many before him, and I ca
Christians p.o.v. The cold, metallic tang of blood hangs heavy in the air as I sit shackled in this cold cage, my wrists chafed raw from the heavy silver cuffs binding me to the rusted bars. The distant echo of a roar, equal parts agony and rage, sends shivers racing down my spine. my heart is pounding, not with fear for myself but for the others, those who had been dragged into this hellish nightmare alongside me.My breath comes in ragged gasps as I strain against my bindings, my body bruised and battered from the trap and manhandling that landed me here. I underestimated them, the hunters, or Clan’s men, however you wanna call them, who ambushed me in the early morning. Somehow they’d known I’d come, known how to subdue me, and now I’m trapped in the belly of the beast.From my position, I Can hear the muffled cheers and jeers of a crowd, their voices rising in a sickening crescendo.The faint, rhythmic thudding of footsteps echo down the muddy path, growing louder with each pass
Tara’s P.o.v: I stumbled into the cottage, each step heavier than the last. My legs quivering from the punishing combat drills, my arms screaming in protest at even the slightest movement. The door creaked as it closed behind me, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. I leaned against the sturdy wooden frame, allowing myself a r moment of vulnerability, and exhale a shuddering breath.The warmth of the cottage greets me, though it does little to soothe the storm raging within. My fingers tremble as I peeled off the sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked clothing clinging to my body. The day’s training was brutal, yet it paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that had emerged in the clearing: fire. Raw, uncontrollable fire that erupted from my hands with a fierce, primal hunger. I felt its heat, saw its searing glow, but now, as I stand here, the memory feels distant, almost unreal.“What the hell is happening to me?” I whisper into the quiet room, nearly expecting som
Sam’s p.o.v.The morning light slices through the trees, golden and unforgiving. I’m standing in the center of the clearing, arms crossed, waiting and watching as Tara trudges into view. Her steps are slower today, heavier. The exhaustion from yesterday’s training obviously lingering in the tightness of her movements and the slump of her shoulders. Still, there’s that familiar fire in her eyes as she looks up towards me, like a glimmer of stubborn resolve that refusing to be extinguished.Good. She’s going to need every ounce of that stubbornness for what’s coming.I’ve seen my share of battles, but even if only half of what Linda told me will come to be, it’s going to be a suicide mission if she’s not ready.“Tara,” I called, tossing her weighted gauntlets. She caught them, though the force of the throw made her stagger a bit, her muscles must be sore. “Today, we focus on endurance.”She stared at the gauntlets, then at me. She wisely keeps any protests herself, though I saw a flicke
Christians P.O.V. The scent of blood and fear is absolutely suffocating. It clings to the humid air, mingling with the metallic tang of rust and despair. As I stumble forward, my shackled hands aching from the rough silver chains are biting into my wrists, I’m unsure of what’s awaiting me, but I’m certain it won’t be anything good. The sheer cacophony of smells that bombards my nose is sickening.The two guards flanking me are humans, wearing smug expressions and carrying cattle prods like they’re some kind of medieval wardens. They don’t say much, just the occasional grunt or barked command to keep me moving. The electric collar around my neck buzzing faintly is a constant reminder of my own stupidity. Every step I take feels heavier than the last, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.They drag me through the barren lands that used to be a green oasis, the place we called home once, when high floodlights buzz to life overhead and blind me for a second or t
Linda’s P.o.v. I look at Tara standing at the edge of the clearing, her breath visible in the crisp morning air. Before her, Sam pacing like the restless predator he is, that boy has never been one to stay in one place for too long, what kept him here till now.. I’m guessing it’s fate and this moment right here. No one can prepare our dear Tara for what’s to come the way he can. I’m not entirely sure what his life looked like in the years after the raid, but from what little snippets the Goddess has shown me, it was a hard life. His gaze is sharp and assessing. Watching from the shadows, I breathe deeply. I saw the fire flash in her eyes again during yesterday’s training, the images that came to me during the night burned just as bright, I finally understand why her family tree has missing pieces, why no one ever wrote down exactly who started her bloodline from both sides of the family. Folding my hands neatly in front of me I try to calm my demeanor to hide the weight of
The first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon, casting a golden light on the clearing behind the cottage. Sam stood in the middle, his arms crossed, a no-nonsense expression on his face and I am stood opposite him, sweat already dampening my clothes despite the cool morning air.“This isn’t going to be easy,” Sam said, his voice hard. “If you want to save your father, you’re going to have to push past every limit you think you have. Your strength, your endurance, your mind—it all has to sharpen. The bastards that have Christian won’t go easy on you, and neither will I.”I clenched my fists, I had been in a brawl or two in high school, I knew how to throw a punch. “I’m ready.” I said determined.He smirked, the scar on his face creating a hauntingly eerie grimace, the fact that the smile didn’t reach his eyes adding to the overall menacing look. “We’ll see.”The first exercise was deceptively simple: running. But not just any running. Sam led me up steep hills, through dense forests,