Semua Bab The Alpha and the Rental Luna: Bab 111 - Bab 120

[Hawthorne]It's a portal. This wall was hiding a portal.Taking a deep breath, I follow after my family matriarch in a leap of faith, biting my lip to keep from screaming as the chilly dark of a void portal takes me to wherever she's gone. Traveling in the spaces between spaces, the void of eternity is a skill that only witches have. You need to have enough glow to sustain the cold, hungry darkness, as it feeds off our life force, taking a small bit into itself as payment. Even witches need to be careful, as a less powerful witch could be drained dry from anything other than the shortest of distances. It feels like I'm falling forever before my feet find purchase on a well-woven rug covering a smooth, stone floor. Usually, portal travel is quick, only seconds. That it felt like several minutes meant that this place wasn't anywhere near Crescent City. It also means that wherever we are isn't a place for a common witch. If I weren't descended from Araminta Thorpe herself, the most po

[Rudy]We are so close to finding Sylvester. I can feel it. I know this is going to work. I trust Hazel and her abilities. She is a powerful witch, she just doesn't give herself enough credit. Just because her magic isn't flashy doesn't mean it isn't as potent."Well she's put a spell on me, anyway," I grin as I dart across the street from the park, her juniper berry scent freshly imprinted upon me, the taste of her still on my tongue.Shortly after I first met Apple, I realized there was something special about that brunette witch with sparkling eyes the color of changing leaves—green, brown, and gold all at once. I wasn't sure what it was at first, as I've made a habit of avoiding any type of closeness that could lead to confused feelings. I didn't want a mate; I had no use for one. I intended to spend the rest of my life serving the Alpha family. It is a duty that I am glad to have, a responsibility that I cherish.I love my job. I had no intention of ever giving it up.And then I m

[Sylvester][One Week Ago] The rogues overwhelm the room. I’m not sure how or why, but for some reason, I can push back the worst of their infection with my touch, a glow sparkling along my fur as I reach out and touch their bodies with a clawed hand. Now that I know my mother was a witch, it is as if a floodgate of power that has always been there has finally made its way to the surface. I was more than enough as an alpha. I've always been the strongest, even when I was a pup. Now that I'm a man, there aren't many alphas who can match me. Now, it makes sense. I was never just an alpha. I was a hybrid. A hybrid that had been powerless until now, who had been poisoned by his own mate's bite because I was far too much of a wolf to receive it, and she was still far too much of a witch to give it. I wonder if things would have been different now if we had marked each other after finding our true nature. Walking through the chaos in my wolfman form, my glow brightens, curing every ro

[Sylvester]My body is cold and stiff as I slowly regain consciousness. Whatever the bastards drugged me with burns my veins and makes my head pound. I don’t want to be awake, it hurts too much.The sound of birdsong in the distance lets me know that I am still in the forest. The cold, slick, wet floor beneath my cheek and the soft trickle of condensation dripping from a stalactite informs me that I am in a large cave, bigger than the one I had woken up within before. And the heavy weight around my neck and ankles tells me I’m bound and chained. Heavy footsteps approach. “Get up,” cold water splashes across my face, shocking my already stressed system. Sputtering, my eyes snap open, and I snarl upward at the tall figure before me who is hard to make out while backlit by the setting sun. Struggling to sit, I pull on the chains enough to stand in a somewhat crouched position. I guess I should be grateful I can move at all. “You’re going to feel like shit for a few days,” the younger

[Hazel]Everything burns. Even the air burns as I try to breathe, a task that feels impossible in a room made of silver. The walls are silver, the floors and bars are silver, even the beds and toilet are made of a duly burnished silver that burns every time my bare skin touches it, leaving the faint smell of charred flesh every time I forget and let myself get burned.I knew that witches were feared, even hated, but this cell they’ve placed us all in is a unique type of torture, one that you can’t escape even when your body gives out, and you have no choice but to sleep. Knowing that it must have caused these hateful humans a small fortune to construct this nightmare is only a small consolation.This is where I awakened after those men snagged me in the park--a cold cell no bigger than Grandmother Araminta’s shop, holding almost 40 female witches. Hanging from the walls are hammocks in rows that stretch up above us, as if they think we can just fly up there on brooms to go to sleep. It