Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2)

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Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2) Page 25

by Veronica Douglas


  gaze burning on my neck while I pondered how muscular his quad felt under

  my grip. Shit.

  Luckily, Sorsha was lost in her story and didn’t notice the exchange. “An

  entity named Cavra is the author of the grimoire. She said she had beautiful

  mysteries that she wanted to share with the world, but she needed a vessel.

  She dictated the work, and I transcribed it.”

  “And you just obliged?” Jaxson growled.

  “I told you, she was persuasive, and I was young and enraptured with the

  magical world.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I might be able to help you for

  the right price.”

  She leaned forward and handed me the black book.

  The rich leather was smooth and smelled of patchouli, and a silver

  bookmark peeked out from the middle. Instinctively, I opened it to the

  marked page, and shivers raised the hairs on my arms. A forested scene rose

  from the pages, veiled in shadows of blue and green and silver. It looked like

  a painting from a children’s fantasy story.

  “If you agree, I can get you to the Dreamlands, where you’ll find Cavra. I

  can’t promise that she’ll agree to help, but you can try.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jaxson said.

  I jerked my gaze from the page and gave Jaxson the look, even though it

  generally didn’t work on him. “Hold on a sec. If this is our one shot at

  stopping Kahanov from putting anyone else to sleep, we’ve got to take it.”

  He stood and gently gripped my elbow, towing me up. “We know nothing

  about the Dreamlands or this entity. It’s too risky, and we’re not going.”

  I yanked my arm free and turned to Sorsha. “Tell us about the

  Dreamlands.”

  Jaxson growled but stayed put.

  Her eyes glistened and lost focus. “The Dreamlands is a magical realm,

  like the lands of the fey. It’s where our dreams go once we’ve woven them—

  a strange mirror of earth, constantly changing and growing. It’s unpredictable

  and deadly and wonderful.”

  Her words raised the tiny hairs on my neck, and I felt as if at some point,

  we’d already crossed a dangerous line. “How do we get there?”

  She smiled and met my eyes. “Oh, I can guide you to Cavra. All you must

  do is dream.”

  35

  Jaxson

  Thirty minutes later, Savannah and I found ourselves sitting on thick rugs

  around a smoking brazier of fire-cracked stones and incense in Sorsha’s

  sweat lodge. Well, she called it a lodge, but it was little more than a

  makeshift tent in her backyard.

  I scrubbed a hand through my hair as a growing sense of unease settled in

  my bones.

  Pack lore spoke little of the Dreamlands, mentioning it only in whispers

  at the dark edges of stories. It was a place of nightmares made manifest.

  Trusting the witch to take us there was reckless as hell. Even if Sorsha

  didn’t simply drug us and try to rob us blind, we’d have to find this entity,

  Cavra, and convince her to help us.

  To be fair, I hadn’t caught a scent of deceit or treachery from the witch.

  But while she seemed benign, the casual, practically offhanded way she

  talked about making a pact with a sinister being of unknown power and intent

  didn’t bode well. But the clock was ticking, and we had to stop Kahanov

  before he put any more werewolves to sleep.

  But I wasn’t a fool. Rather than put our fate entirely in the witch’s hands,

  I’d called Neve, who’d headed our way instantly and was standing watch

  outside the tent. In the event that Savannah and I didn’t wake up, I trusted

  Neve to do what it took to extract an antidote from the witch.

  Sorsha stepped into the sweat lodge carrying a brass tea kettle. She took a

  seat across from us and poured steaming brown liquid into a pair of terracotta

  cups. I watched her hands suspiciously as she pinched a variety of herb

  bundles that were strewn across the ground beside her and sprinkled them

  into the cups, swishing them carefully.

  Finally, she reached over the baking stone pit and handed Savannah and

  me each a cup with a smile. “Drink this and relax. The brew will work

  quickly, so clear your mind and prepare yourself.”

  The brew smelled godawful and was likely laced with mushrooms or

  peyote or something worse.

  Savannah sniffed her cup and wrinkled her nose. “Will we just wake up

  in the Dreamlands? How will we find Cavra?”

  Sorsha smiled. “It’s sort of like that. Your bodies will stay here while

  your souls travel there. I’ll guide you through your dreams so that you’ll

  arrive in the Vale. Once you’re there, make your intentions clear, and Cavra

  will find you. Navigating the Dreamlands is more about your intent than

  geography.”

  Whatever that meant.

  Savannah glanced at me. I could smell her trepidation, and I saw a

  momentary flicker of doubt in her eyes. But just when I thought she was

  going to back out, she downed the concoction in a single gulp.

  “Ugh,” she groaned, wincing. “This is worse than scrying potion.”

  “Fucking hell,” I muttered, and shot back the cursed mixture in my cup. It

  was acerbic and bitter, and had a filthy, moldy taste.

  Savannah had already gone pale, and sweat began beading on her face.

  “Are you okay?” I slurred.

  She forced out a faint laugh as her eyes began to cloud. “I regret

  everything. Mostly breakfast.”

  “When you wish to wake, envision me sitting as I am, in this tent,” said

  Sorsha. “Call out my name and make it your intention to return to me. I’ll

  pull you back.”

  I nodded even as my thoughts began to drift.

  “And do not fall asleep in the Dreamlands. Where you’d go from there, I

  don’t know.”

  “Okay,” Savannah mumbled. Sorsha guided her down to the ground

  beside the fire and poured some of the liquid into the flames so that a fog

  filled the chamber. My vision blurred as my limbs grew heavy.

  Savannah’s eyes closed. My pulse raced, and I fought the drowsiness that

  snaked through my body.

  “Stop fighting it, Jaxson,” Sorsha whispered in the distance. “The

  Dreamlands has its sights on you, and there’s no backing out now.”

  I cursed the woman and tried to crawl to Savannah, but instead, I found

  myself lying face down on the coarse rug beneath me. The world slanted, and

  darkness enveloped me, carrying me through a wormhole between

  dimensions.

  A barrage of mutating images flashed through my mind—people and

  places I’d long forgotten or never met, shifting and falling into each other

  like a kaleidoscope. Possibilities grew from the ground like flowers and sunk

  into my thoughts like roots. The pressure in my skull increased, but when my

  head felt like it might explode, it stopped.

  Sounds of the forest rose around me, and the scent of overripe fruit and

  anise burned my throat. I opened my eyes as sensations of wonder and

  astonishment blossomed in my heart. Trees with twisted trunks towered

  overhead as the barest of light filtered in from the full canopy above.

  I couldn’t tell if the trees were real or a mirage.

  I stepped forward,
brushing a tendril of silver moss that hung from the

  branches. Tiny glowing lights drifted through the air like dandelions floating

  in the wind. I glanced down at my hands, unsure if I was dreaming or

  imagining this vision, but it was so real.

  Savannah.

  Dread focused my mind. I spun, but the forest around me was empty.

  The thread that bound us pulled in my chest, and I shoved my way

  through the vines until I found her in a clearing beside a small pool that

  reflected a different sky than the one that hung over our heads.

  “Jaxson! I thought I lost you,” she said in a dreamlike voice as some of

  the strange motes of light settle on her skin. “This place…”

  “Is perilous,” I said gruffly as I took her hand and pulled her back from

  the edge of the strange pool. “As alluring as all this might be, don’t let your

  eyes deceive you. In the few stories I know of this place, it’s only ever

  mentioned as the source of nightmares. So stay close and don’t touch

  anything. We need to find Cavra.”

  Before I could say a word, she raised her hands to her mouth and shouted,

  “Cavra! We need to speak with you!”

  “What are you doing?” I snarled as her voice continued to echo

  unnaturally through the forest. “We shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves.”

  “Sorsha said we only had to make our intentions known.”

  I didn’t like this one bit. “Let’s go find her. Quietly.”

  We left the glistening pool behind us and pushed onward, gingerly

  stepping over the roots that snaked across the forest floor. The scampering

  and chittering of unseen animals preoccupied my senses.

  Before long, a strange presence filled the air, and I suspected that we

  were being watched. I took Savannah’s arm and raised a finger to my lips.

  It wasn’t a sound that caught my attention, but rather a feeling of power

  and silence. The noises of the forest died around us as a high-pitched

  humming reverberated through the trees. My claws slipped out, and my

  muscles tensed.

  The smell of melon and sugar dulled my senses as a woman stepped

  through a curtain of moss dangling from the gnarled trees. Had it been there

  moments before? I couldn’t remember.

  “Blessed day, beauties,” the woman drawled in a seductive voice,

  planting her hands on her full hips. She stood over six feet tall, and her wild,

  dark hair hung loosely around her, draped with vines and flowers. A crown of

  stag horns rose above her brow, and her nails were sharpened into points.

  “Now, which one of you summoned me?”

  “I did,” Savannah said, slipping around me.

  “My, my, two wolf pups lost in my wood. What brings you here?” The

  woman’s eyes darkened as she gaped at Savannah, taking a step forward.

  “That’s close enough,” I growled. Cavra’s head snapped to mine like an

  animal’s, and her eyes brightened back to an emerald green. She smiled

  maliciously as she took my measure but quickly set her gaze back on

  Savannah.

  I sensed Savannah’s fear, but she stood tall, betraying nothing. “We

  understand that you dictated a book— The Grimoire of Nightmares—to a

  witch named Sorsha Delamont. That book was stolen by a blood sorcerer,

  and he’s using it to trap people in their dreams. We came to seek your help in

  stopping him.”

  The woman tilted her head back and let out a hearty laugh, the air around

  her vibrating with magic. Whatever she was, she was powerful, and I didn’t

  like it one godsdamned bit.

  After a moment, she clutched her chest and smiled broadly. “What a

  wonderful surprise. I haven’t had visitors for so long, and to hear that my

  grimoire is actually being read is delightful.”

  “Will you help us?” I growled.

  “So impatient, Jaxson. So keen for the hunt. You’re asking a great favor.”

  Every muscle in my body warned me that this woman was perilous. A

  monster. I flexed my claws. “How do you know my name?”

  “You knew my name, so it’s only fair that I should know yours. Now,

  come with me and we’ll discuss the favor you ask.” Cavra shifted her body

  sideways and motioned with her clawed index finger—a talon unmistakably

  suited for ripping flesh.

  We were stepping into the jaws of a dragon. But what choice did we

  have? We were committed to this path.

  I stayed close to Savannah as we followed Cavra through the sinister

  forest. Birds with brightly colored plumage and curved beaks flitted through

  the branches overhead, feasting on the carcass of a small rodent. The stench

  of blood and raw flesh permeated the air, and Savannah gagged, covering her

  mouth.

  Clearing her throat, Savannah asked, “Are you a sorcerer or a witch,

  Cavra?”

  The woman chuckled heartily and glanced back at Savannah with an

  exaggerated sway of her hips. “Oh, gods, no, honey. I was a maenad once,

  though I outgrew it a long time ago.”

  This isn’t good.

  “What is a maenad?” Savannah asked.

  Cavra lifted her arms above her head and twirled her fingers. Roots and

  vines uprooted from the dirt and twisted up her body like serpents. “Well,

  suffice it to say I was a celebrant of life in all its various forms.”

  Our lore spoke of the maenads as the raving ones. They were twisted

  beings of myth driven to frenzied rituals of excess and depravity. But that

  wasn’t what worried me most.

  “You said you were a maenad. What are you now?” I demanded, my

  voice low and tense. Cavra looked fucking maniacal, and if we didn’t need

  her help, I might have tried to rip her throat out.

  “The Dreamlands made me more.” She turned and said, “I’m a lot like

  you, Savannah. I discovered myself in a new world, and it changed me.

  Perhaps it will change you, too.”

  “You’re not native to the Dreamlands?” Savannah asked. She was much

  too calm and trusting of this monster.

  “No. I moved to the Vale centuries ago, when my wicked sister ousted

  my mother from the throne and exiled me from the Summer Lands.” The

  roots and vines that encaged Cavra withered and darkened, turning to ash.

  I gently gripped Savannah’s arm, pulling her to a stop. But she was

  unbothered, and her voice was tender and full of empathy. “I’m so sorry,

  that’s terrible.”

  “No, terrible is what I will do to her when the time comes for revenge.”

  Like a chameleon, Cavra’s demeanor changed suddenly, and she smiled

  graciously at us. “But that’s none of your concern. Tell me, what is it you

  want me to do about this sorcerer?”

  Up ahead, the forest opened into a clearing that was illuminated by

  thousands of glowing lights strung through the trees.

  “Can you stop him from entrapping more people? And set those he’s

  captured free?”

  “Yes,” the maenad mused. “But whether I will remains to be seen.”

  No doubt, her price would be steep.

  36

  Savannah

  Cavra moved effortlessly through the dense forest into a brightly lit

  clearing. The folds of her long gown hugged her voluptuous curves, and her

 
hips swayed gracefully. She was mesmerizing to watch, like her body was

  dancing even when she was standing still.

  I could sense Jaxson’s vitriol toward her, but for some reason, I felt a

  glimmer of kinship.

  “You ask a favor. What can you offer me in payment?” she enquired,

  twirling a strand of hair between her delicate fingers.

  “We can pay in coin, but I’m guessing that’s not what you’re looking

  for,” Jaxson said roughly.

  “Correct, wolf man. I live in a perfect dream. I have no need for

  currency.”

  What could a vastly powerful maenad possibly want or need? Unease

  settled over me. “There must be something we can do for you. A favor for a

  favor?”

  Tilting her head, Cavra considered my words with a glint in her green

  eyes. “Now, that is a more interesting proposal.”

  Jaxson tensed, and I could sense his displeasure.

  Cavra closed her eyes and stepped close to me, breathing in deeply and

  twisting her hand strangely in the air. My skin prickled as a cacophony of

  whispers filled the clearing, but I couldn’t see where they were coming from

  —the space was empty.

  Jaxson clearly heard, too. He scanned the area, his muscles twitching in

  anticipation of an attack.

  Suddenly, the murmurs went quiet as Cavra opened her eyes, and a wide

  grin spread across her sharp features. “My. Apparently, you are far more than

  you seem, Savannah—so much strength lurking in the shadows of your soul.

  I do believe there is something that you could do for me. In return, I will cast

  a blocking spell on my grimoire, and your sorcerer will not be able to ensnare

  any further victims.”

  “And what about those who are already trapped? Will they wake up?”

  Jaxson all but growled.

  “No, I’m afraid not. He has their minds sequestered in a place beyond my

  reach, and they will be trapped in their dreams until the sorcerer is killed or

  ends his spell. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

  Disappointment tore at me, but at least we could prevent anyone else

  from getting hurt.

  Then all we had to do was kill Kahanov.

  I met Jaxson’s steely gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing.

  “What is it you want us to do?” I asked.

  Cavra had an unabashedly predatory look on her face, and worry spread

  through me like a sickness. I had a sinking suspicion that whatever she was

 

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