by Melinda Hyde
Once we were all in our human forms, I cleared my throat, as I, once again, eyed the stream. “It’s the water,” I stated flatly. My statement was met by dubious looks of confusion. “That’s how they were able to get away; that’s why they fled to this particular place. They need the water, for some reason,” I clarified.
“How can the water help them,” one of my men asked, his face screwed up in doubtful puzzlement.
I shook my head, keeping a close rein on my impatience. “I have no idea, but I know it’s true. I know little of magic, and I’m thankful that I don’t,” I chuckled humorlessly. “What I do know is, each time they’ve evaded us, it’s been through the use of water.”
Unintelligible murmurs passed through the group as they thoughtfully discussed the situation. I allowed them a space of time to think over my words, then cleared my throat again. Their eyes reluctantly shifted back to my own, and, to my annoyance, I could still detect the traces of doubt that lingered in their minds.
“I don’t know how to make it any simpler for you. It’s the water. That’s the only thing it could be. Somehow, the witch has made it to where they can use it—bend it to their will,” I snapped, jerking my thumb in the direction of the stream. “They were at the water’s edge when they disappeared, and that’s where they’ll be when they return.”
Markus, the biggest of the bunch, crossed his arms over his big, burly chest. “Even if you’re right, how should we know what waterway they’ll use? There’s so many,” he grumbled, in exasperation. “And who’s to say that they’ll return at all? They may not since we caught them again.”
His self-assured smugness sparked the frazzled ends of my nerves. “They appear to want, or need, to return to this particular area,” I stated. “We’ll split up in groups and guard the water ways. Eventually, we’ll meet with success.” I pinned my eyes on Markus, narrowing them on him. “And they will return; you can bet on it. Now, I have other matters to attend. Day is approaching, and I’m sure you can all occupy your selves, for a bit.”
With that, I allowed the shift to take me, sinking down until I stood on four sturdy paws. I shifted lazy eyes on my men, then doubled in the opposite direction, skirting off into the forest. I padded along, the morning dew dampening the fur around my claws, and my worries swept away by the invigorating feel of being one with nature.
Up ahead, something rattled the limbs of a hulking bush. I froze, preparing myself for danger. Then, out of the shadows pounced a lone, elegant huntress. She skidded to the side when her wary eyes met mine, and her lips peeled back in a nasty snarl. She backed away, the hair along her spine standing rigid.
I let out a low, anguished yowl as she darted away, but I didn’t pursue her this time. I knew it would be a pointless endeavor, that would only serve to widen my wounds. What was done was done. The only thing left for me to do was seek out vengeance. So, when she disappeared from sight, I padded, on leaden paws, in the opposite direction.
When I came to an opening, where the branches parted ways to reveal the open space beyond, I sagged back on my hind end. Soft golden light illuminated the town below, giving it an almost ethereal glow, and the stillness that danced in the abandoned street was eerie.
I wondered briefly if the young woman, who had fallen victim to the immortals’ insatiable taste for the life of the living, had been from amongst the innocents that lay sleeping behind those sturdy walls below. They had suffered a lot of losses, even if she wasn’t one of them.
I stretched my forelegs in front of me, until my muscles began to protest, burning deliciously. Then, I slid the rest of the way down onto the cool, refreshing ground. It was time to wait for the rest of the world to stir. I had much to discuss with my new friend—the healer. Perhaps in her old, shaking hands, I might find redemption, or, at the very least, rectification.
23.Clouded Fate
Leonia
Watching Orin leave again was difficult. It was almost unbearable. Things had gotten out of hand so fast, I felt that I was barely keeping a grasp on the raveling ends of my mind and heart. In just one year, more heart ache and grief had befallen me, than in all my other years summed together.
When the door closed, I sagged under the weight of disappointment. I was still standing in the main room, holding onto the pitcher and cloth that I had used to cleanse Orin’s wounds. My hands trembled slightly, causing the water to ripple inside the container. The soft, pattering splashes that hit the floor by my feet reminded me that I needed to set the pitcher aside.
I sulked over to a table in the kitchen, and I placed the objects on the small table. I watched the filthy water go still, then set a course for my room. I could hear Lance beginning to stir, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he demanded his meal.
I stopped at the bedroom door, feeling a soft, irrepressible smile etch its way upon my face. Two tiny, balled fists waved wildly in the air above the crib, and the cracked, wooden bed rocked, as Lance jutted his legs out, making unintelligible cooing sounds.
I crossed the remaining space between myself and the crib, sinking down at its side. As my gown pooled around my knees, Lance went still, his tiny, almond eyes shining up at me. My heart ached, as I peered down into the eyes of my baby boy. He was so innocent—so pure. He was the future—the one good thing I had brought into the world.
I knew the moment he was about to fuss. His face darkened to a deep, angry red, and his thin, little lips curled away from his toothless gums. I chuckled at his theatrics, as I tucked my hands beneath him, lifting him from the warmness of his bed. He turned his head from side to side, mouth wide open, taking turns sucking at each of his fists. I carefully lowered my gown over my shoulder, bringing Lance close.
Once Lance was fed, his tiny eyes drifted shut, and I lowered him back into the crib. I tucked his thin, blue blanket up to his chin, resting my hand on his chest. My eyes felt heavy, as if some physical force was pulling them down. A long, sleepy yawn forced its way out, and I leaned my cheek onto the side of the crib. It tilted on its rockers, then went still.
I knew that my bed was only several, short paces away, but I couldn’t muster the strength to pull myself to it. Besides, I didn’t want to leave my son’s side. I closed my eyes, lolled by the beautiful rhythm of his reassuring breaths, meaning only to rest my aching eyes.
Everything went pitch-black, and I was falling—drifting. I tried to stop it, though I knew the effort was useless. I didn’t want to see any more of the future. I had already seen enough, but as the darkness faded to grey, then colors filtered in, I braced myself for what I knew was to come.
I landed hard in a sea of dying grass, that billowed in golden, yellow waves. In front of me, I could see Orin’s warriors pacing in agitated, jerky motions. The atmosphere was tense, filled with animosity and hatred. Behind me, a loud, reptilian hiss sent me scuttling around, with my arms out, preparing to defend myself from the unknown threat.
It was Lenora’s creatures. Their eyes were pools of unreadable silver. Their faces were scrunched up in fury, and their fangs were sharp exposed daggers. They too were pacing anxiously, but their eyes weren’t trained on me. Nor were they fixed upon Orin’s warriors. I followed the direction of their soulless stares, and my heart thudded to a standstill.
Two lone figures stood apart from the group. One was a beast, and the other took on a defensive stance, arms stretched out, prepared for battle. The figures were dark and swallowed in shadows. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I didn’t need to. A strangled heartbroken gasp worked its way from my constricted throat, and I blindly clawed my way to my feet.
All around me, the tension continued to grow, until the air was thick and heavy, pressing down, like hundreds of pounds of water. The two figures circled, closing in on one another. Then, as fast as an arrow sprung from a bow, the four-legged beast’s claws dug deep and fast into the grassy earth, propelling him into the air. His opponent met him with the same speed and precision, a dark, shadowy cloud bursting out from those s
lender, outstretched hands.
I darted between them, feverishly determined to prevent the atrocity from happening. Like always, my efforts were in vain. The two figures passed right through me, as if I didn’t exist at all. I hit the ground on the other side, rolling furiously to see what had become of them, but the darkness had already taken hold of me. I drifted up and away from the devastating scene.
I gasped, my eyes jerking wide with fright, at the feel of the two, strong hands that took hold of my shoulders. The world around me exploded with an ear-splitting racket, and it took the sound a moment to register in my mind. Lance. It was my son who was making that loud, shrill commotion.
The grip on my shoulders tightened, pulling me up, until I was leaning against the roughened wall. My hair clung to my damp skin. I used the palm of my had to clumsily brush it away. My chest heaved with deep, greedy pants, and my eyes darted wildly, before coming to meet Orin’s.
His meadow-green eyes searched mine with open concern. There something else written in their depths, as well—something I couldn’t quite make out. “What happened?” Orin asked, in a rushed, husky voice.
I squeezed my eyelids together, swallowing past the bitter taste that filled my mouth. “I don’t know. I fell asleep, and I think I had a night mare,” I lied, opening my eyes to study his expression. He didn’t believe me; he wore a neutral mask, but I could see the reservations hidden beneath it.
I felt tears bead in my thick lashes, and I scrambled to go to Lance. His cries were intensifying, and I knew that he needed comfort. Orin stopped me, though, pressing firmly on my shoulders to hold me in place.
He dipped his head to mine, causing his sandy hair to fall over his brow, and he sighed. “He’s shook up a bit. You were thrashing in your sleep and tipped his bed.” His mouth arranged into a tight, grim line, as a feeling of horror washed over me. “Look, he’s fine. He wasn’t hurt, but he could have been.”
A low, animalist growl rumbled in his chest, and his fingers tightened into my shoulders, then went lax. I knew that there was more that he wanted to say. I could see and feel it in the tension of his muscles, but when his eyes met mine again, the anger was gone—buried deep inside.
“Let’s get you to the bed. I’ll take care of Lance.” His voice was as smooth as velvet.
I only nodded. Anything that I said would only have angered him further, and I knew it. He took my hand in his, pulling me up on shaky legs, and he guided me to the bed. I sank back, watching as Orin strode over to check on Lance. He lifted the child from the crib, pulling him close to his chest. He swiveled his hips, rocking the babe back and forth, making soft, soothing sounds. It wasn’t long before the blankets went still, and silence cut through the room. The floorboard squeaked, as Orin leaned forward, easing Lance into his bed. He lingered there for a space of time, just gazing down at our son, then threw a sidelong glance over his shoulder.
He straightened up and sauntered over to me. He towered over the edge of the bed, and I peered up into his fathomless, green eyes, watching the thoughts swim within. His expression was neutral, but he crossed his arms over his chest, pinning me in place with sharp, intelligent speculation.
“I know it wasn’t just a dream, Leonia.” My heart sank, like a busted ship. “Tell me, what did you see? What does the future hold for us?”
I cringed inwardly, feeling sick to my stomach. “Really, it was just a nightmare. It was probably brought on by exhaustion,” I lied.
Orin slid down to the bed beside me, draping his arms around my shoulders. “It’s okay, Leonia. I know it was a vision, and I’m okay with that,” he said in a husky voice, as he pulled me close, pressing his soft lips to my hair. “I accept what you are, and I was wrong to try to change you. You don’t have to hide it anymore.”
I gasped, snatching my eyes to his, and he stared back at me. I searched for any sign of mockery, but there was only sincerity dancing in their depths. I swallowed hard. Something didn’t feel quite right, but, still, my heart filled with a sense of joy. I shook my head, unable to articulate a response, and Orin’s lips brushed against my own, traveling across my cheek bone, and to my ear.
“With the help of your magic, we’re going to make everything right again,” he whispered, in a seductive, gravelly voice.
Somewhere, deep inside, an ominous warning whispered through my mind. I was too elated to take note of it. Instead, I pushed it further back, almost silencing it completely. Tears wavered on the edge of my eyelids, threatening to overflow. I wrapped my arms around Orin’s neck, and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling a deep whiff of his woodsy scent.
My hands curled into the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life. “I love you, Orin,” I whispered. His hand slid up the small of my back in a soothing manner. “I’m so glad you came back; I love you so much.”
“I’m glad I came back, too,” came his reply. “I couldn’t leave you. This’s where I belong.”
I sniffled, furrowing my brows. It bothered me that he hadn’t said he loved me, too. I was sure I was making it bigger than what it really was, but it still bothered me. There was something different about Orin since he had returned—something that constantly nagged at me. It would take time to heal from what had happened between us, I decided, but as long as we were together, I was sure we could make it work.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Melinda is just a small-town girl, who enjoys dreaming up new and exciting stories. She spends her days with her husband and two, small children. Her hometown is little more than a tiny dot on the Louisiana map, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She sincerely hopes you enjoyed her book, and, if you did, she would absolutely love it if you checked out her sites. You can follow her at http://www.melindahydebooks.shop/ or amazon.com/author/melindahyde.
Other Books BY Melinda Hyde
Twisted Fate:
Immortal Chaos: Twisted Fate
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07J1S6Y3Z/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_691YCbYDMRK24
Sister Witches:
Immortal Creation: Sister Witches
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MT7N8CC/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_Xb2YCb50R80CC
A Short novella:
Shimmer’s Quest
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PCP1M71/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_-e2YCbKCWNDR8
ONE LAST THING…
If you enjoyed this book, Melinda would be forever grateful if you dropped a short review on amazon. Reviews are always welcome, and she truly appreciates the insight she gets from her readers. It encourages her to move forward with her writing and gives her immeasurable joy.