Red eyes pierced the darkness. One pair at first, then a second and a third in quick succession. She gasped when the creatures moved closer to her, dragging the darkness around them like a cloak, baring their pointed, animalistic teeth.
“You don’t need to worry. I have no reason to harm you,” the many voices said. “You gave me what I wanted, now I’ll give you what you need.”
With little warning, and too fast for her to even think, the darkness closed in on her, engulfing her body in its power. She gasped for air as it infiltrated every cell of her body. Even in her inexperience, she was certain she would never be the same again.
As it relented, drawing away from her, the changes it had precipitated grew more apparent. Every witch is aware of their power from an early age, and as the overachiever she was, Ethel had always sought to grow that awareness. The simple act of whatever the dark power had done to her undid centuries of practice. Her Power of the Water was gone, engulfed by the new darkness invading her consciousness. It was thick in its potency, almost tangible, and even as she reveled in her newfound strength, she worried she couldn’t control it.
“It won’t always feel that way.” The many voices answered a question she hadn’t even considered. “You will need to replenish it.”
Her confusion at its words dissipated when all the darkness surrounding her coalesced into a black cauldron at her feet. She stared at it, still enjoying her newfound strength, when the glowing red eyes returned, this time within the cauldron.
“How do I replenish it?” she asked, unwilling to lose this power even for a second.
“You will need to travel to the Underworld to refill your cauldron,” the demon said, its voice coming from within the cauldron. “These creatures will be at your command. They arehere to hold the power you gather until you need to use it.”
“It’s not possible to travel to the Underworld, not without…”
But the demon’s red-glowing eyes were gone, as was its presence and the voice it carried. She stared at the darkness the cauldron contained. It swirled around the container as alive as the power now coursing through her veins, and a new fear assailed her.
What if this was temporary? Had she betrayed Pierce for a power that wouldn’t last? She sought her Power of the Water, the natural power the Goddess had bestowed on her, and it wasn’t there, replaced by the extreme strength of her new dark power. There had to be a way to journey to the Underworld unscathed. Pierce said there wasn’t, not without an inhabitant of the Underworld to guide her. But he was a demon, and demons aren’t known for their integrity.
Her vengeance on the Grand Coven would have to wait until she was certain she wouldn’t lose her newfound power. Until she was certain of an endless supply. There had to be a way.
TWO CENTURIES LATER...
The compound’s vast expanse called to the distant, constant companion who was also a part of himself. Mark Garner stamped down on the animal in him as it clawed to be let out. Its attempts were an exercise in futility as always. There was no way for him to do the most natural thing for a werewolf: transform into his most powerfulself. The connection was broken, the wires in his psyche crossed, and nothing he did could fix it.
A distant howl reached his ears, and tears he didn’t think he could still shed prickled his eyes. That wasn’t a werewolf. They were close enough to Yellowstone National Park to hear and sometimes see their distant, smaller animal cousins. He’d loved running with them as a child before they’d been hunted to near extinction, and as much as he enjoyed the more recent resurgence of wild wolves, he was starting to hate the wonderful call of the animal seeking to connect with him.
The cold air stabbed at his face, and the wolf in him howled its disapproval. As if sensing the animal trapped in him, Yellowstone’s wolves howled, the perfect synchrony of their chorus speaking to his trapped wolf like never before. The full moon was high, illuminating the land his family had called home for centuries, long before humans imposed themselves on it.
It was colder now, the snow blanketing the trees to offer additional camouflage. The leaves were almost all gone, the ground peppered with the white of impending winter. Mark drew his coat tighter against his body, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He breathed in the cold air, trying to calm his restless animal self.
He wanted nothing more than to transform, to run with the others, but he’d been robbed of the ability. Now, every time his wolf clawed at the barrier keeping him at bay, Mark endured a sadness, a burden his family tried to, but could never understand.
He shifted his stance when the sound of rustling leaves reached his ears, but he wasn’t alarmed. It was only Dean, hisolder brother. The Prime Alpha. The monstrous white wolf stepped out of cover, its giant paws leaving indelible marks on the snow-covered ground. It stopped a few paces away from Mark and shook its giant head. The other wolves, eight in total, followed their Prime Alpha’s lead as he transformed into human form with a grace that should be impossible for the large animal.
Mark’s heart ached at how easy the transformation came for his brother, for all the others. His brother tilted his head, blue eyes studying him and tears threatening, Mark looked away from the intense scrutiny.
The Prime Alpha nodded for the others to go inside their home, but he remained, studying Mark. His nakedness was not unfamiliar to Mark. Losing your clothes every time you transformed meant werewolves were comfortable with nudity.
“Any problems?” Dean was a master at avoiding tense subjects, and Mark thanked his brother for trying to disguise the pity hiding behind intense stares and easy smiles.
He couldn’t trust his voice, so he shook his head.
Dean raised an eyebrow, hands on his lean hips. His brother stood head and shoulders above everyone Mark had ever met. He was big in human form and huge in wolf-form, a bulk he was well known for using as an instrument of intimidation.
His brother’s Alpha influence reached past his brokenness to soothe his restless wolf.
He shook his head again. “Stop it, Dean.”
His brother relented, a bashful smile replacing concern. “Just checking…” He smiled, the kind of smile that hid how powerful and dangerous he was, and charmed everyone whoencountered it. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
Mark was engulfed in his brother’s embrace before he could find an excuse to remain outside. Sometimes it was best to give Dean what he wanted. Goddess knew he was well capable of taking it.
Mark allowed his brother to lead him through the front door of their giant house. The ranch-style twelve-bedroom, ten-bath mansion housed the Prime Alpha, his family, and the Werewolf Council. Wolves are a social, communal species and are never too far away from each other. When the world became too crowded thanks to human overpopulation, it became necessary to find ways to remain close without drawing too much attention. History had taught all non-human species that humans didn’t respond too well to that which is different, and there was no need for bloodshed.
A cloaking spell around the house made it invisible to any human wandering too close. Only werewolves, vampires, and the witches responsible for the spell could see and enter the home. The inability of ancient humans to co-exist with the supernatural had necessitated this hide-in-plain-sight strategy.
