Lost Little Wolf

by N. K. Vir

  The world she had known before with its innocuous dangers had been a sweet dream. The world she inhabited now was the real world; the world that was originally created. Magick and the hidden world it surrounded were deadly and terrifying. She wanted to close her eyes and wish it all away but that was a dream she could never entertain. The pressure on her was so intense and after waiting for what felt like more than just two days she felt no closer to giving anyone the peace of mind they all so desperately needed. Her hands gave up the search for her lost piece of wood. She curled up in a ball on the cold floor and gave into the tears she had been holding in for days. She only hoped Kieran had better luck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Power of Love

  Daisy had barely placed the car in park before Lucas was ripping the car door open. It would have startled them all had they not seen him prowling the porch as if he was barely containing the animal within. He pulled Tanith from the car with a growl and held her tightly to him.

  “I don’t want you far from me,” he said; his voice sounding more like the snarls of a frightened animal than the voice of a man. He captured her delicate face in the palms of his hands and impaled her with a kiss.

  Kieran turned away, uncomfortable with spying on Lucas and Tanith. He knew how Lucas felt and could sympathize with the big man. He missed Wills and every moment he spent away from her he was introduced to a new form of fear. Everyone was living too close to the edge lately; especially Lucas. He had once been in his shoes, fearing that every time would be the last. Moments like this were important; it reminded you of why you kept fighting so hard.

  Kieran glanced over at Daisy, who too wrapped up in Lucas’ feral embrace of Tanith; she missed his attempt to gain her attention. He had been mostly silent since speaking with Marek. His words and the possible double meaning behind them had been circling in his mind for the last hour. Marek had greeted him like a beloved long lost son even though they had only met in person twice before.

  “Your family is an ancient one,” Marek had told him. “Barely older than mine,” he almost silently added before flashing Kieran a dazzling false smile.

  Kieran could only nod his head as his own secret ancestry had only recently been made known to him. In that moment he had no reason to doubt the long standing coven leader. However, his next words shocked him.

  “Did you know your mother and I were once very close?” he asked suggestively. “At times I think that you could have been my son. So I ask now what can I do for the Sinclair witch?”

  It was then that Kieran saw the faintly veiled flecks of green that hid deep within the dark brown of his eyes. He shook off Tanith who was either coming to his aid or escaping Matilda’s secret conversation with Daisy. He had seen the way Marek had looked at her. He had barely been able to contain the hate; just as he was barely containing his jealousy now.

  “The Historian has asked for our help,” was the best reply he could give. Although there was more he wanted to say, more he wanted to ask, but he bit down on his tongue.

  “What help could this humble coven give?” he asked feigning ignorance.

  Kieran knew all too well from the barely concealed whispers in the room that every witch in attendance was aware of the trouble with the Trinity. Rumors spread quickly in the magickal world.

  “The Trinity are about to hold a trial for an attempt on the life of the Historian,” he explained unnecessarily. “Kane is enacting the antiquated execution rule.”

  “The Historian would then like our coven’s support to condemn the attack made on her life. The very life you defended?” Marek asked plopping back down on his oversized chair.

  He could see Marek laying the trap. Tanith had, indeed, attacked Wills and would have ripped her to pieces had Kieran not used magick and a harmless, or so he thought rock. Tanith had been controlled by Kane. They knew it and what was worse the Trinity knew it. Even if Adam sided with them they would more than likely lose. Kane was leading the charge and Lily was known for her love of blood sport.

  “We’ve come, hoping,” he stressed. “That you and the coven might detect some trace of a spell that has been placed on her; and in turn give evidence before the tribunal.” After he spoke the words he knew they had come here in vain. Marek would never give him what he wanted.

  “This is beyond the power of the mighty Sinclair witch?” Marek asked barely hiding his mocking tone.

  Kieran had felt his anger flare and had clenched his fists in an attempt to control and douse the burning fire in that threatened to overtake his hands. He had to control the power his emotions had on his magick. He could not afford to burn the ornate throne-like chair Marek lazily sat upon; no matter how much he wanted to.

  In the present he found himself fighting for the same sense of control as his fists clenched and relaxed. His anger, slowly dissipated as his eyes fixed on the welcoming light of the porch. He hoped that Wills was having more luck than he had tonight.

  Daisy’s small hand came to rest on his tense forearm and easily melted away some of the anger he had been carrying with him since speaking with Marek. “The trip wasn’t all bad,” she said smiling at him. “That crazy doorkeeper of yours gave me a few riddled clues.”

  She held the moonstone that had changed hands many times before him.

  “She told me this was much more than a rock dug up from this earth.” She shifted excitedly in her seat. “She said this is from another world; and because of that it is not only a powerful weapon but a key to a door that remains hidden.”

  “What good does that do us?” he asked barely restraining his temper. “How does that help Tanith?”

  “Leave that with me,” she whispered reassuringly. “For now, for tonight-,” she broke off for a moment her eyes drawn to the light of the growing moon. “I think you should remember what I told you earlier.” She let her words hang, silently begging him to remember something. “She needs you Kieran…now…tonight.”

  His eyes drifted back to Lucas and Tanith who were still locked tightly together. He doubted he would get such a greeting from Wills.

  He hadn’t been back down in the underground library since that day; the worst day of his life. There had been more than a few recently and each one was escalating as if they were trying to outdo each other. In the past he’d always had someone else to blame; this time he was the villain. He was born, had been created, just to protect her; that was the sole definition of his title. Even without his newly acquired hereditary title he never thought he would have been capable of hurting her… except he had. Nearly two days had passed and he still had she had shown no signs of improving. Every time he thought about it, every time he saw her his heart broke just a fraction more. She had barely spoken to him since that morning. The day had started off so boring, yet had ended on the cruel edge of his temper.

  He exhaled a calming breath as he descended the final step of the spiral staircase. The cool air and faint musty smell of books refilled his vacant lungs. The faint scent of Wills’ honeysuckle soap tickled his senses; she had passed this way just a moment or two before. He walked quietly; following her lingering scent shadow. The fluorescent lights flickered faintly casting an unnatural glow and irritating his ears with their monotone hum.

  If he spent too long down here he usually left with a blasting headache. He often wondered how Wills spent long hours reading and studying under the artificial light. Whenever he questioned her about it she would smile at him and say every bit of eyestrain was worth the history she was uncovering. Recently she had taken to wearing reading glasses heightening the librarian fantasies he’d always created around her. Those were the good memories; he was making new haunting ones now with every step he was taking. He was surrounded by books she might never be able to read. She couldn’t see him smile at her, couldn’t witness the power she held over him with just a look. He had robbed them both of that pleasure.

  A cool shiver raced up his spine as he slowly forced one foot to step in front of the other.
He knew where she was; it was where she always was. Since moving into Marian’s house there was only two small changes she had made. The spiral staircase was the biggest improvement; he hated her climbing up and down the old ladder. He was terrified that she would fall and break her neck. Luckily she had made the change before she lost the power of her sight.

  The only other improvement she had made was to create a small reading room out of one of the empty shipping containers her aunt had secretly buried under the house. It was comfortable enough; with thick shaggy area rugs, comfortable arm chairs and a separate long dining table for them to all convene around when a situation called for it. They had been planning for the future when they would seek out and bring home others in the magickal community who had been abandoned and in desperate need of sanctuary.

  They’d found an old alchemist table that she had quickly commandeered for her desk and it was one of the only spaces in the underground bunker that did not hum with the droning sound of fluorescent lighting. It was one of the two rooms he would stay in for long periods of time. The other was more intimate and untainted by the deep magick that had suddenly infected every hour of their day. When he could he would steal her away from her books and drag her into the hidden bedroom her aunt had installed for other purposes than they used it for. She had spent the last month exploring the many rows of books; he’d spent the last month exploring her.

  His eyes flicked to the right as he paused briefly in front of the room that held so many delicious memories. He wanted to travel back to those happier times when everything seemed like it had changed for the better. He wanted to relive those nights when he was wrapped around her inhaling every sweet sigh she exhaled. He wanted the taste of her on his tongue and the feel of her warm silken skin pressed against him. He needed to hear her whispered declarations of love and pleasure as he sighed and died in the relief that she was finally his. There had never been, and would never be, anyone else but her; and no matter what happened after tonight that would always be true for him.

  He crept further down the hall closing in on the room she frequently hid away in all the while making a silent vow he knew he would never break. She might only need him tonight; she might only need him to pick her up and put her back on her feet; but he would always be there to catch her. He would always lover her; even if her love turned to hate and she banished him to the deep shadows of her life; he would always be there. He had made several vows and promises to himself and any god that was willing to witness his oath. This was one he knew he would have no trouble keeping.

  The sounds of gentle sobbing sobered him instantly. He abandoned and ignored the piercing sting of another slice of his heart impaling his chest. His feet did not hesitate but moved with a renewed sense of purpose…Daisy had been right she needed him. He tried not to revel in the moment but found it was difficult. He needed her to need him.

  He quickly rounded the corner entering the small study at a run and skidded to a halt at the entrance. The sight of her crumbled on the floor one scraped and bleeding palm outstretched reaching for a piece of wood that lay inches from the tips of her fingers shattered what remained of his heart.

  “Oh baby,” he exhaled past the hard lump of emotion that had formed in his throat.

  He reached her in two steps and scooped her into his arms cradling her against his chest. He expected her to pull away from him. He expected her to pound her battered hands against his chest and reject his embrace. Her genuine response floored him, humbled him, and yet, gave his heart a glimpse of hope.

  She threw her arms around his neck, buried her face into his shoulder, curved her soft body around his and cried. Words, mauled by her heavy tears escaped her mouth making no sense. He let her cry. He let her babble self-effacing words and through it all he just held her.

  As the small moments of the clock ticked on his grip on her tightened; she wiggled and he pulled her onto his lap as he rocked her until her tears stopped, drifting into quiet little hiccups as her chest settled back into its normal rise and fall. Her soft full lips moved against his neck as she tried to form words to explain her behavior. The soft, unexpected caress pulled a sigh from his chest and forced a shudder to rip through him. He tightened his hold on her and sunk his fingers into the cool, soft silk of her hair anchoring her to him. His fingers wanted to sink in deeper; wanted to pry her beautiful face away from him so he could capture the mouth that was teasing the sensitive skin of his throat. He wanted desperately to sear himself onto her soul. He wanted to brand a new sweet moment onto her to replace the negative shadow he had cast upon her. It would have been so easy to do; and it would have been selfish.

  When the last breath of sorrow had been expelled from her she loosened her grip and slowly let her arms slid down his neck. He exhaled a relieved sigh when she didn’t pull away from him. He allowed himself to kiss the top of her raven colored hair before releasing the tight grip he had on her head.

  She pressed her palms into his chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. The raw palms of her hands pushed against him gently pushing him away, then, as if they too had a mind of their own clench a fist full of his shirt in her hands. He quickly captured her wrists pinning her hands to his chest.

  “Don’t you ever apologize to me,” he angrily whispered against her forehead sealing the words with quick brush of his lips. He wanted to regret his tone but refused to allow himself to feel anymore remorse.

  “I can’t do it Kieran.”

  The heart wrenching sound of defeat pouring out from her stoked the gentle heat of his anger and regret into a raging fire; he hated hearing words of self-doubt dribbling out of her. She was the strongest of them all; overcoming every obstacle the gods had thrown at her with a saucy smile and a wink. He refused to let her give up now. He released her wrists but kept her chained to him by capturing her face with his hands. The tips of his fingers tingled as they speared into the cool dark curtain of her hair. He tilted her face up forcing her sightless eyes to lock onto his face. He wished she could see him and thanked the gods who were listening that she couldn’t.

  He wanted her.

  The willpower it took not to force a crushing kiss upon the full lines of her mouth was nearly overwhelming. He wanted to kiss away every thought and emotion she was experiencing until all she felt was the same need that was burning inside of him. In the end he settled for resting his heated forehead against hers. He allowed his thumbs to trace the outline of her full mouth as he inhaled a cool calming breath to settle the fire that was quickly building within him.

  “Yes you can,” he whispered against her lips. He was tap dancing close to the edge and he knew it but he couldn’t help himself. “You will figure this all out,” he encouraged. “You are brilliant and have a better understanding of the magick that surrounds you than any of us have. You were born to do this,” he finished.

  She inhaled a shuddering breath stealing the air from his lungs and drawing him even closer to her. “None of this is your fault,” she said; her soft lips moving against his.

  His head moved, gentle nodding up and down accepting the blame that was wholly his while further the soft friction between them. “Yes baby it is,” he whispered as the pads of his thumbs brushed delicately over her eyelids. “My anger-,” he broke of pulling himself a fraction of an inch away from her.

  “Do no harm.”

  She spoke the words that had been haunting him. He tilted his head towards the ceiling. His eyes drifted closed as he accepted her accusation. He kissed her soft brow enjoying the last taste of her. His mind was so wrapped up in the past and the moments he might never have with her that he missed the sudden change in the embrace. Instead of clinging like a dying man to her, she was handcuffing him; refusing to let go of him. Her battered hands wrapped around his wrists holding his hands, stopping them from retreating.

  “Kieran you did no harm,” she emphasized pulling his face back down to hers. “You did no harm,” she repeated. “I needed to lose my sight to see.”
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  He tried to understand but felt lost in her cryptic words. “I don’t understand,” he admitted with a frustrated sigh.

  “I don’t either,” she admitted pulling his mouth down to hers. “I can’t do this alone Kieran,” she breathed against his mouth. “Tonight I want to forget; help me,” she pleaded.

  “I want to,” he exhaled as he allowed his arms to wrap around her again; powerless to resist the draw of her.

  “Then do it.” Her enticing words were too much for him to resist. He let go of his regret and allowed himself to become lost in her.

  There was no time for comfort but the words that fell from him were filled with hot, heated emotions of need and love, want and desire. She needed him and in the end he would always need her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lessons From The Past

  “Most men cower in my presence,” Kane hissed as a dark shadow alerted him to the presence of the other man.

  “Most men might,” admitted the shadow. “But never a witch,” he boldly stated. “Those of us versed in your history know how you came about your gift. Or should I call it a curse?” He boldly questioned.

  Kane barely reigned in his temper. He kept his eyes focused on the fire burning before him. The days were warm but the nights on this damp continent still chilled him. Centuries had passed and the landscapes of his home had changed but he always missed the warmth of Eden. Man had lied, or forgotten about the truth of how they had lost the true world. They; the others, had stolen the world, had stolen Eden from them. Years and time had taken the memory of the world from man. He alone still felt the pull of the old world. It was the old world’s magick that had blessed him with his power. He alone felt the absence of its pull. Adam and Lily had been born of this world. Their magick fed off the light and dark that existed in this hollow mirror image of the beautiful world he knew existed beyond the veil. Starved of the full flow of power from which he pulled on he felt the absence of Eden greater than the previous generation. He was forced to survive off the power and weight of the moon and the artificial warmth of fire.