by Zana Wilder
His smooth voice seems to quell any doubts in the onlookers, reassuring them everything is running smoothly with very few hiccups.
“and soon,” his voice drops so low I almost miss it “soon there may be no need for this to run on an individual basis – mass-separation of shifters is tangible, although we do need your funding to help move that along.”
His voice soars again - “proceed!” he booms.
I feel a needle in the back of my hand, and a cold creeping sensation moves up my arm. I struggle to keep my eyes open for as long as possible – I need my horrible suspicions confirmed. Just as I loose the fight, just as my eyelids flicker shut, a familiar frail figure looms over me.
“I'm so sorry” Morganna whispers as I sink into oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Aaron's POV
I jar awake to Freya's panicked mind-link and leap from the bed, disorientated. My wolf's on immediate high alert, concerned she's in danger. He will not tolerate any danger to her and he's increasingly protective now that we've marked her.
It takes only a few moments to clear my brain fog and realise it's Morganna in danger. Freya doesn't elaborate- only sends me the bare minimum. Carl is loose, injured, half crazed and trying to get to and kill Morganna. Freya and Liz can't contain him. I need Morganna, he can't be allowed to murder her.
Even despite his injuries I have difficulty in stopping Carl without hurting him further. He's like a man possessed, snarling so much I half expect him to shift despite not having a wolf any-more. He only calms down when Freya finally gives in and compels him, forcing him into submission. Even then his rage is palpable.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I roar, making everyone cringe. Whoever set this off is going to have a shit load of explaining to do. Liz's eyes flick away from me and she bows her head. Freya blushes and for once, refuses to meet my eyes. I round on my mate.
“What. The. Fuck. Freya?” I enunciate every word, and seeing her flinch I just know this is her doing.
She reluctantly explains what she's been doing while she left me blissfully asleep. I curse my wily mate out, loudly. She could have been seriously hurt – Carl might not have his wolf but he's a formidable fighter even without it. I grab her shoulders and give her a shake for good measure.
“This is not okay Freya! You can't go putting yourself in danger like this. And you put your mum in serious danger too! You are Luna-in-waiting for this pack, it and the fucking Watch, needs you – alive!”
She peers at the floor intently, only then do I catch sight of her tearing up. A twinge of guilt needles me and I sweep her up in a massive hug. I bury my face in her hair and inhale her scent. Only as it calms me do I admit I've over reacted. No-one has been hurt and we have significantly more information now than before.
That she-wolf is going to be the death of me, if I don't fuck her into oblivion first.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Aaron's POV
I gather the council together, along with my new recruits. We need spies across all shifter-species, sniffing out more about the Coven's plans. Specifically, I need to know more about this stone – the Severance Stone.
We can only assume that Carl's memories didn't return after Morganna's spell because she was interrupted before they played out completely. He certainly remembers now, and his fury is difficult to contain.
A little voice in my mind whispers maybe it was simpler than that – maybe Freya is the more powerful witch – maybe she broke the Coven's memory-blanking spell when her mother couldn't. I'd love to think my mate's that powerful. Perhaps witching genes don't get diluted by inter-species breeding like we'd thought. Given the Coven's current plans, that's not a good thing.
Morganna's started interacting again but I worry she's even more fractured than before. Freya was able to pull her back with a cast, but she said it was difficult. It seems Morganna became catatonic after her attempt with Carl because she could remember what she'd done, but couldn't deal with it. She barely can now that Freya's dragged her back to us. She seems to oscillate between self-deprecating despair and vengeful thoughts of angry retribution. There's no middle ground. It's alarming – I need her to at least appear sane. She's not doing herself, or me, any favours right now.
She does seem to be slowly recovering, with careful ministrations of various tonics by Tavey and Freya. Although she now remembers what she was forced to do, she only knows the little she was told while a prisoner. Until the Coven had something to bribe her with, she was just another captive.
After Marciel discovered Freya, he worked out who and what she was. That gave the Coven enough traction to force Morganna's hand – either she acted as a Separator or they would harm Freya. She was one of the strongest Separators they had – but each cast took more and more out of her.
Morganna did what she had to, to protect her daughter, but we can all see she's split in half by the guilt. I'm just grateful she chose her daughter over everything else. If I can help her put things right, I will. I can't help but fixate on Marciel's plans for Freya – I'm fucking convinced the arsehole had something planned for her. It makes me seethe, just thinking about that creep with his hands on my mate.
In Morganna's more rational moments we're able to glean slightly more about the process itself. Each Separator is bound to a stone, and the shifters are bound to the Separator. Morganna assumes it will take each Separator to cast an individual spell on each of their victims, for shifters and their animals to be reunited. I hope to hell she's wrong. That doesn't fit with my plans at all. For a start, it's no use for Aurora – we've no idea who that Separator was – Morganna is adamant Aurora wasn't one of hers. And there are multiple other Separators, all of whom we'd need to turn to our cause in order to reverse all the separation casts.
It's a nightmare, and my head hurts just thinking about it. Bad feeling reverberates around the pack as everyone learns what Morganna has done – dark mutterings about the inherent evil in all witches is increasing.
I have to find a way to fix this before they turn on Freya and Tavey too, there's only so much my alpha influence will do. I've already heard grumblings that I'd biased because Freya's my mate. It won't take long for them to question my judgement unless I can turn things around here.
Morganna and Carl are both able to recall the stone in detail – after some research we discover it's a rare mineral composite. Strangely enough it's suddenly in high demand on the black market. It gives me a great idea - I send out spies, claiming they know of a reliable supply of the rare stone. That should attract some attention fairly quickly and might give us an in.
As if I didn't have enough shit to deal with the council are forcing my hand – they want the alpha-blooding ceremony ASAP. They're probably right. In amongst all this chaos, some semblance of normality, something to bring the pack together is desperately needed. I need to solidify the pack behind me, rapidly.
I get Tavey to schedule the ceremony for a couple of weeks time, and send out the invites to the neighbouring packs – hopefully by then I'll have more information from my spies. I need to at least appear to be in a strong position if I want to win support for an all out war.
Aurora is being a royal pain in my arse. She'll be eighteen soon and I'm desperately trying to find a solution to her being wolf-less before then. The risk of rejection if she meets her mate and she can't shift is high, but she doesn't seem to understand the urgency, nor that I have to keep her close, and protected. She's constantly fighting me.
“I'm basically human now Aaron,” she spits the word like it's poison “no-one will dream I'm a spy for shifters just by looking at me!”
“You could be recognised as one of their experiments Aurora” I growl a low warning.
“Then I'll get in even closer!” she states triumphantly “they might even take me to where my Separator is.”
“No.” I bellow “it is not happening. Get that out of your head right now!”
“What if...” she eyes me sidew
ays “what if Lyell came to protect me?”
That does it. I am not having my seventeen year old sister endangering herself by poking around Coven territory and I am in no way having Lyell sniffing around her. He is a good solider, in a bad way. His loyalty to this pack was earned, but I know how he earned it. And I know his previous life.
“No” my voice is deadly quiet now “You will stay here Aurora, and you will stop all contact with Lyell. You may think you know him, but you don't. As your alpha, I forbid you any relationship with that bear. Do not disobey me, little sister.”
I mind-link Lyell my ultimatum – leave my sister alone, or leave the pack – then I turn on my heel and leave Aurora to her wailing.
Chapter Forty
Freya's POV
I can't work Aaron out right now. He's increasingly hard-line with his fighters, the pack and with his sister. I know he needs to prove himself as alpha, but he's pushing too hard.
Aurora is in pieces – she's so cut off from everyone, and Lyell was a huge support for her. Fuck knows what those two had in common, but whenever I came across them before, she was happy and smiling and he looked way more relaxed. Now she's only ever in tears.
We have to do something to get her wolf back, I'm sure I can occasionally sense it there, just under the surface. I daren't tell her – I can't work out how to reach her wolf. I worry that knowing it's there but inaccessible might just break her completely.
The closer we get to the alpha-blooding ceremony the more nervous I am. I know some of the packs attending are the same ones that sent she-wolves as potential Luna's to the Rite. I hope there's no bad blood lingering, and there better not be any fucking ideas of turning his head.
The ferocity of my jealousy surprises me. I might not be officially Luna just yet, but I'm his mate and I won't stand by and watch any nonsense for the sake of politics. My wolf is very fucking clear on this too. I love feeling like I've got backup.
I mention to Aaron that there might be bad blood, trying to hide my jealousy, but he's immediately onto what I really mean and laughs at me for it. My wolf bristles.
“Fuck off Aaron” I mutter “I'm serious, those mutts better keep their skanky little paws to themselves”
He grabs me by the waist and lowers his head towards mine, staring me straight in the eyes. I'm cross with him for laughing, and with my body for betraying me – I just want to press myself into his big chest and loose myself in a kiss. I punch his arm in annoyance.
“Beautiful, listen,” he says, suddenly serious “I didn't want those she-wolves when I barely knew you, and when you were off fucking someone else. Stop worrying – I've found you, I've claimed you. I'm never letting you go. Maybe you should be worried about that instead.” He gives me a sly grin as I huff at him and try to keep the smile from my face.
I still can't quite believe the blooding-in part of the alpha blooding is literal – fucking barbarians! Aaron has to fight his father. Whoever wins, is alpha. It's such a load of macho bullshit. Aaron's the stronger, and the better fighter, but I can't help but worry. Something tells me Connell's pride won't allow him to just 'let' his son win – he'll fight with everything he has.
It terrifies me – they could seriously hurt each other. I'm just glad the brutal element of a fight to the death is confined to the history books; Aaron only has to make his father submit.
When Aaron let slip that Connell has never submitted before, ever, I made him elaborate. Alpha Connell and his Luna even left a out part of her Luna Ceremony because he could not, would not, submit, even to her. It's sad really, now that I think about it. But it also has fucking terrifying implications for this fight.
Liz is not much bloody help at reassuring me. She's bloody feral – far too enthusiastic about the prospect of the two of them beating each other to a pulp than is natural. Fucking cougar.
Chapter Forty-One
Aaron's POV
I wake with a start, sweat pouring off me. I can hear my blood pumping in my ears, and smell my own fear. I was dreaming about today. About the alpha-blooding. Even awake, I still feel a thrill of alarm.
I'm the stronger wolf between me and my father. I have the muscle to win this fight, unless I fuck-up badly. But my gut is churning – if he won't submit, if I can't make him, then I have to kill him.
I haven't discussed it with Freya. I saw her shock at the concept of a fight to the death for leadership, and then how relieved she was to learn that's not been the law in centuries. I couldn't burst her bubble. Sure, nowadays we only have to dominate the other fighter, but in the end, one of us has to submit, or die.
She's so new to pack-life that she must see our customs as brutal and uncivilised. And she'd be right, they are. There are so many things I want to change, such a different way I want to run my pack. But first I have to win the alpha-blooding, become alpha, then win a war with the Coven, before my work with the pack can begin. Simple really. I scoff to myself and roll out of bed, reluctantly leaving Freya snuggled under the duvet.
It's early and the weak spring sun won't be over the horizon for another hour. With a final look at my lovely mate I leave her snoring loudly in bed. I will totally rib her about the snoring later. Shrugging on some gym kit I head out onto the estate.
The guests for the alpha-blooding all arrived last night in a burst of pomp and ceremony, so I alter my normal route to avoid where they're being housed. It's unlikely anyone else will be up at this hour, but I'm definitely not in the mood for conversation if they are.
It takes a hard-run 10-miler before I feel some of my tension easing, and my guts start to settle. I will do what it takes to win this. Sweat dripping down my torso I head back to our rooms for a quick shower before breakfast. I slip into the en-suite only to find a very wan looking Freya gripping the sink.
“Hey beautiful, What's up?”
“I'm just worried Aaron” she sighs and leans up against me. I wrap my arms around her, inhaling her scent and kissing the top of her head. She smells a little different somehow. I pull away and peer at her worriedly.
“I'm the one fighting Freya, and I won't loose” I promise “do you think you're catching something? You look really pale.”
“Maybe... probably just nerves though... my stomach's upset” she gives me a reassuring hug back, stopping to sniff me before dry-retching “ughh! You stink! No wonder I don't feel well! If I'm sick it's all your fault you filthy animal!” She shoos me laughingly away into the shower.
The start of the ceremony is a blur. My father and I are escorted to opposites sides of the fighting circle by a blood curdling tune on the bagpipes. The guests file past to pay their respects to us both, and to leave gifts as is the tradition, but I can barely acknowledge them. I'm trying desperately to catch a glimpse of my father's face. I bloody wish I knew what he was thinking.
Tavey leads the pack in a deep throated howl, indicating the start of the fight. I start to circle my father. We have to fight in both forms, but my wolf is itching to get out already.
My father surprises me, making the first move, feigning a punch to my face and following up with a hit to the gut that finds its target. The air is forcibly expelled from my lungs and I swing away to catch my breath.
We exchange a few light body blows, searching out each-other's weakness. My wolf bubbles to the surface and I charge my father headbutting him square in the face. He stumbles sideways, reeling from the impact, swinging blindly as the blood streaming down his face temporarily obscures his vision.
I feel rather than see him start to shift, and in almost the same instant I let my wolf out. I'm quick at shifting, pretty fucking sure I'm quicker than him. I leap straight at my father before he's fully in wolf form. My teeth grip his shoulder, and I hear bone crunch. I hold on and shake viciously, feeling a chunk of flesh tearing and tasting the coppery blood start to flow. Eventually my father manages to break away. Even from a distance I can see it's bad - he's very lame. But the fucker won't submit. I growl in annoyance as we stalk round
each other again. Every now and then his leg buckles.
My father gathers his strength and throws himself toward me, teeth bared, ready to tear my throat out given half a chance. His vitality is fading, although his courage remains. I easily sidestep him and catch him by the nape as he staggers past.
I shake him by the scruff of his neck, willing him to submit. I hear a sickening crack and drop him to the ground in alarm. I don't want to break his fucking neck.
The howls echo around me as I stand over my father's prone wolf. He still glares me in the face, defiant, refusing to submit. Half the crowd have shifted, and they're baying for blood. The energy in the place is histrionic, and rising. I feel my teeth elongate, ready for the fatal bite. My wolf's responding to the atmosphere, to the moment... I glance up momentarily, taking deep steadying breaths.
Freya catches my eye and I look into her face for a few long seconds. She gives an imperceptible shake of her head. It's tiny, no-one else noticed but my wolf acknowledged it. He backs off.
There's only one thing for it – I have to show my father I am stronger, that I am the superior leader. This better fucking work. I steady myself and shift. Standing buck-naked, I lower my foot over my father's throat and command him in my best alpha voice.
“Shift, now!”
Nothing. His wolf glares back at me balefully, looking restlessly for an opening, for a way to escape.
“As alpha of this pack, I compel you, shift”
The air ripples imperceptibly around my father and I catch my breath “SHIFT, NOW!” I bellow.