Chapter Two

Lottie’s POV

Rosaline warned me that coming home would be overwhelming and my ties to this place and the land, would be empowering. I believed every word she said, but I didn’t realise how much more power I would have access to just by being back on home turf. I can feel it moving under the ground, spreading from root to root until it channels up through the earth and into me, its willing conduit. I think some of what just happened was probably fear and survival instinct, but it’s not like I was just lighting candles from across the room like I did under Rosaline’s guidance.

I’m telling you, those flames must have been ten feet high. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked in a mirror and saw that I have no eyebrows or eyelashes. My powers might be impressive to an onlooker, but I find them intimidating, especially after the couple of mishaps I had back at the beach house. The less said about that the better. I’m not sure I’ll ever live it down, and I don’t doubt my brothers will hear all about it from my minders soon enough. That’s if they survived the ambush we walked right into. Coming into the cove at almost full sail would have alerted anyone a few miles up and down the coast, of our arrival.

In hindsight it was a reckless decision, but when Rosaline told me what Esme said, I knew I had to get home as soon as possible and that meant keeping the wind at our backs until the very last second. I still can’t believe Zander survived a direct lightning strike, but the more disturbing news, believe it or not, was that my brothers and new sister had somehow found themselves acting as guardians to a dragon/witch hybrid child. There is a very real possibility that the child currently living in my own childhood home is my little sister. Like I said, a lot has changed.

It just doesn’t feel real. Alpha Kwame and Luna Oroway were very knowledgeable about dragons, which came as more than just a shock to me. I have vague memories of our father telling me stories about them when I was very young, but that is what parents do, make up entrancing stories to captivate and amuse their little terrors. Knowing what I know now, I wonder if he knew what I am, and he was preparing me for the day I discovered my true identity. When Luna Oroway sat me down and told me of the power a dragon could harness, the way they shift, not like a wolf does, something entirely different, not of this world, I was left speechless. How does one respond to that?

It's not some big secret that I still haven’t had my first shift. It just isn’t talked about and I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. I have spent every night since my eighteenth birthday, crying myself to sleep in the privacy of my room. I know people think I’m self indulgent and maybe superficial, and I suppose I am to a degree. It makes me feel better about myself. Like, if there isn’t anything out of place, if I’m impeccably turned out, people won’t look too hard and discover my flaws. The biggest and most obvious being my lack of wolf.

It happens sometimes. Some of us, them, wolves, are late bloomers. I think that is what my brothers are hoping, and they probably think that if they don’t call attention to it, it won’t stress me out and I’ll get my wolf soon. Occasionally someone won’t get a wolf at all. That is almost as bad as being cast out and becoming rogue. Not that my brothers have ever done that to anyone, but I have heard some horror stories from the girls in visiting pack’s. When we were younger Witney told me a story her father had told her about a disobedient little girl who was punished by the Moon Goddess, she never got her wolf and was cast out by her family, then her pack, and she had to live among the rogues without a wolf for protection. I used to frequently think about how well I would do, out there, alone. It never ended well for me in my head.

I always thought it was like the story of the boy who cried wolf, that the human parents tell their children, or that lie they tell them about how if they tell a lie their eyes change colour. Just a load of rubbish to make a child compliant. I was such a cynical child, and who can blame me. It turns out I was lied to since I was only a few days old. So, not only does it turn out that dragons are real, and have been hunted to near extinction for centuries, but apparently Vampires are a thing to. Well, I mean, there is no ‘apparently’ about it. Witney’s mind hand been invaded and manipulated by one. Rosaline was able to put her in some kind of trance, like hypnosis, and discover what had been done to her. It was one of the most surreal things I’ve ever seen. Not that I have seen much. My life has been pretty sheltered up until now, and I miss my childish ignorance.

Witney sat in the middle of a Pentagram of protection, candles flickered all around the small room, their light caused ominous shadows to crawl up the wooden walls. Incense burned in one corner of the room. A huge, and I mean huuuuge, potted fern sat in another corner, a small stone water fountain was placed in the third corner and a candle unlike the rest was in the final corner. The candle immediately drew my attention, at first I thought it was a pillar of carved marble, with inscriptions running from the wick down to the purple crystal plate it stood upon.

We hadn’t even spent a night in our temporary home when Rosaline insisted on Witney and I joining her for afternoon tea. I thought it sounded a bit out dated, but I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot, so agreed. I noticed Rosaline watching Witney intently over the rim of her cup every time she lifted it to her lips. I thought she might have been curious about the new comers, but then surely she would have been keeping an eye on me with the same level of obvious caution and interest. It didn’t take long for the puzzle to pull itself together. Witney began to sway in her seat and she was practically falling asleep right where she sat. Rosaline later confided that she had seen a shadow clouding Witney’s aura, so she spiked her tea with a sedative. Her plan had been to exorcise whatever demon had attached itself to her, as that was what usually caused a tainted aura.

When Witney began to speak, she sounded like something else. Her voice had a harsh, hissing quality, like when someone imitates what they think a snake would sound like if it spoke. It was creepy and I can still feel the shiver that jolted up my spine whenever I think about it. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing a demon being ripped from it’s host, that sounded like some messed up shit, but hearing someone I had known my whole life, suddenly take on a whole different persona, was far, far creepier. Rosaline was able to break the vampire’s hold on her, and she found out some useful tid bits in the process.

“That explains his shitty mood then.” Christian’s statement snaps me out of my thoughts. What is he talking about? Gabe seemed fine for someone who has gone through a lot of messed up crap recently. I must have a confused look on my face, because my brother feels the need to elaborate.

“He has been insufferable since at least a week before you left, but believe you me, it got worse pretty quickly. He either has his head buried in a book or is out looking for any sign of rogues or something to rip to bits. It all makes sense now. He must have known all along.” Christians words are hard to digest. Why wouldn’t Gabriel say something to me? It’s only been maybe half an hour at most since I found out what he is to me, and my body already aches to be near him. How has he stayed sane and quiet about it for so long? Does she plan to reject me? I can’t even entertain the thought. Abandonment issues I didn’t even know existed within me, begin to bubble up in the form of bile that scalds my throat. I was already left in the forest by my birth parents, unwanted and unprotected. My dragon has been withheld from me and the only way to get her back is to undergo the sacred rites I should have been blessed with as an infant. Now I might be about to lose the one gift from the goddess that I actually had a chance of keeping hold of.

My witch side is not dormant, thankfully. Rosaline said I’m a quick study and once my dragon has been released, I’ll be one of the most powerful creatures on the planet. The thought both excites and terrifies me. For now, I have to use my magic and incantations to draw on my dragon powers, which I don’t mind. I want to release my dragon because it is what she deserves, and ever since finding out about her, I have felt gaping hole inside me.

“Sorry it took so long to get out here, we had a sudden influx of badly beaten pretty boys and the blood they shed all over the forest made it hard to track you. They are currently getting the earful of their lives from Beta Gabriel. I reckon I’ll probably have some patching up to do by the time I return. Don’t worry, Uriel is under strict instruction from Alpha Zander, not to let Gabe kill anyone.” Doc Wood quickly adds the last part when Christian shoots him a scowl.

“Let’s take a look at you Luna.” He says as he opens the scraggy looking leather case he carries emergency supplies in. He is old and stuck in his ways, he refuses to carry one of the actual emergency field kits and doesn’t go anywhere without the bag I remember from my childhood.

“How are you feeling? Is Marcel’s blood helping at all?” he asks as he shines a light in Liberty’s eyes. there is silence as we all wait for her response. I have never been so glad to have the old man turn up at precisely the right moment. Marcel has been silent throughout the whole exchange, and I can see why Esme holds him in high regard from what Rosaline told me before my swift departure.

“I can’t feel my legs. My head is killing me, and I’m really, really cold Doc. Are our pups ok? Check them first. Please.” Her voice breaks and I watch a tear roll down her cheek as she asks about her babies. My heart feels like it will break right open. Christian leans down and kisses the clean streak of skin left behind by the fallen tear.

The Doc pulls a funny looking cone from his bag, lifts Liberty’s top to expose her tiny bump, and puts the wide end to her skin. he lowers his ear to the narrow end and listens for a moment before moving the cone, then he moves it again. Not one of us has inhaled the whole time, so as not to disturb the Doc as he listens for my nieces of nephews. I watch intently as he uses a flat hand to push on her tummy, then he moves the cone one more time before straightening, he has a smile on his face and the look on he gives Liberty says it all, but he verbalises his findings anyway.

“The pups are fine. Good, strong heart beats. Now, can I make sure their mother is well?” he raises an eyebrow at Liberty, as if he expects her to protest.

She doesn’t speak, only nods and visibly swallows, blinking back what I imagine to be tears of relief.

“Let me know if you feel anything.” He instructs.

The doc uses a pokey tool and runs it up and down her arms and legs, his face never changing from serious concentration. It’s not looking good from what I can gather. You don’t have to be a doctor to know that not being able to feel your legs is bad, very bad. I have to look away and compose myself so Liberty doesn’t see my own battle with tears that sit on the edges of my lashes. If only I had got back sooner, I might have been able to prevent this, or got to her sooner. There must have been something I could have done.