by Amira Rain
The result was extraordinary to observe. Nicholas had explained Shifter biology to her during one of their early sessions together – had stressed the very real differences between alphas, betas, and omegas. Mary-Lou came to view the three Shifter ranks as she did gender: Physiologically separate, yet diverse within their own selves. Moving from one to the other was not always possible; changes from beta to alpha, or omega to beta, were usually preceded by great turmoil or incited by live necessity. The transition itself took time and a great deal of mental resilience. Death was not uncommon in extreme situations, when both support and strength were lacking.
Jonas’ shift from beta to alpha had been rather painless, all things considered. He did not have to fight for the position, nor had to overpower another for the right to pair with the female alpha of the pack. Even so, the change had hardly been without its costs: Jonas had become more aggressive, territorial – exponentially more possessive over Mary-Lou and the rest of their pack. The mental strain of rapidly-shifting hormone levels, combined with the sudden increase in metabolism and associated changes of diet had the Lion Shifter on the edge for a solid six weeks. Now, four months and a whole lot of training later, Jonas was likely more stable as an alpha than Wiley would ever be.
Stability, however, had nothing to do with winning a fight.
It did not take them long to reach their destination. The empty fields, and walled-off gardens that stretched at the outskirts of the city were familiar to Mary-Lou – depressingly so, given their association with certain assholes of Shifters.
Sasha guided the car to the side of the road. They were to walk the rest of the way, along a narrow path half-hidden among tall, sturdy stalks of corn. They did so quickly; Jonas and Mary-Lou in the front, Sasha and Cara directly behind. Jenna and Katy were noticeably absent, and not by choice: Jonas had instructed the bonded Shifters to watch over Mary-Lou’s adoptive parents. No chances were to be taken today.
A crowd had already gathered about the deserted house. Hooded figures in dark clothing stood at attention beside the half-collapsed walls, faces hidden in shadows or behind pale, plastic masks. Mary-Lou shuddered to see so many empty faces turn toward her and her family – Shifters were certainly given to melodrama.
“About time you showed up!” An amused voice boomed in the still air. Mary-Lou lifted her gaze from the silent crowd, rolling her eyes as she found the source of the noise. Speaking of dramatic.
Wiley stood atop one of the three walls, black boots planted firmly into the crumbling stone. He had his hands crossed over his bare chest, legs spread apart to brace the weight of his body upon the makeshift stage. Mary-Lou suspected both the pose and the pants – a tight, dark-blue outfit that clung to Wiley’s body like spandex – had been chosen for their ability to showcase Wiley’s impressive muscles rather than any practical reason. Had the situation been any different, Mary-Lou would have found the dark-haired man’s posturing pathetic. As it was, she simply wanted it to end.
Of course, there was no reason not to bring some perspective to the show.
“Jonas, remind me,” Mary-Lou said, eyes still firmly on Wiley’s towering figure even as she gestured toward the wall beneath his feet. She spoke normally, knowing that every Shifter in the vicinity could hear her as clearly as if she had been shouting, “Is this where you smashed the Wolf’s fool head?”
Cara did not bother to stifle her laughter as Jonas answered, voice flat, “I believe it is.”
“I knew I recognized the dent,” Mary-Lou smiled sweetly, “Matches his ugly mug perfectly.”
Wiley’s expression turned thunderous. Jonas stepped in front of Mary-Lou, recognizing the slight tremble in the other man’s arms as the restrained desire for violence that it was. But the Wolf Shifter recovered quickly – quicker than one would expect, given his enormous ego and even greater love for confrontation. He flashed a thin, silver smirk at Mary-Lou, eyes glinting with a dark promise.
“You will learn to adore me, baby,” Wiley laughed, the sound hard and ugly, “once I claim you as mine.”
It took both Mary-Lou and Sasha to hold Jonas back as the Lion Shifter lunged forward, teeth snapping toward the smug wolf. Wiley only laughed harder, not bothering to hide his pleasure at Jonas’ ire.
“When do we begin?” Jonas growled once his voice returned, teeth receding back into an even row behind human lips.
“Whenever you are ready, pussy-cat,” Wiley purred, back-flipping off the wall and into the enclosed garden.
Mary-Lou understood, then, the nature of the spectacle. Jonas and Wiley were to fight within the walled space, and they – to watch them in a sea of hooting strangers, as depraved humans do dog or cock-fights. She shivered in disgust, more certain than ever that she would do whatever she could to ensure the death of the Old Laws. This was not fit for animals, was so inhuman and grotesque she could barely stand it.
“Mary-Lou.”
Mary-Lou turned to lean in Jonas’ embrace, rose on her tip-toes to offer him a soft kiss. “End it fast,” she told him, “Do not hesitate – it will only prolong the inevitable.”
Jonas nodded against her, held her a moment longer before pushing away and walking through the rusty gate without a backward glance .
The walls, Mary-Lou realized, were just for show. As soon as Jonas walked into the enclosed space, the gathered crowd surged against the crumbling façade, embedding strong claws into the aged stone. The walls were demolished in the matter of moments, leaving rows of uneven rubble about what was to be the stage for the day’s entertainment. Sasha and Cara flanked Mary-Lou on each side, guiding her into the crowd and near the front as Jonas and Wiley faced each other off. It was too close and not close enough; still, Mary-Lou found it fortunate that she was able to hear the short conversation that occurred between the two Shifters.
“So it has come to this,” Jonas murmured. His eyes were bright blue beneath the morning sun’s light, face tight with anger and trepidation.
“It has,” Wiley spat out in return. The man had not shaved in at least a few days: The black stubble that usually surrounded Wiley’s thin lips had filled out, spread along his jaw and cheeks. It made him look wild, untamed – dangerously unstable.
“Why?” Jonas’ voice was low, plaintive. Mary-Lou stifled a gasp as she grasped the true nature of the situation: This was not to be a fight between strangers, between enemies. Jonas and Wiley had known each other – had been friends.
“A lot has changed since me and you ran together,” Wiley threw back. Oh, Jonas, Mary-Lou averted her eyes from her mate’s drawn face. Victory would cost the Lion Shifter – much more than any of them could even begin to understand.
“What happened to you, Wiley?” Jonas asked, “Do you think that Harry would’ve wanted—”
Jonas did not get to finish, as Wiley tackled him with a howl. The Wolf was already-half shifted, claws out and jaws open as he lunged for Jonas’ throat. Cara gripped Mary-Lou’s arm in silent support even as Jonas bucked up and twisted away, turning to face the enraged Wolf. His claws were out, a growl rumbling in a throat that was rapidly losing its humanity. When Mary-Lou got a good look at his eyes, she found his pupils thin in cold pools of blue.
The two men lunged and retreated, bit and snarled and tore at each other. Blood quickly slicked their bodies, jagged lines of red running down arms and across sweaty chests. They came together faster and faster each time – collided harder and with greater brutality as their human consciousness was buried beneath animalistic aggression. They spoke in howls and snarls, taunted each other with snapping jaws and blood-stained teeth. They had each other’s flesh beneath their nails, trails of the other’s blood on their bodies – and still they came back and back again, the dance building up in a violent frenzy.
It was horrific. Mary-Lou did her best to see without seeing, to watch Jonas without allowing the reality of the situation to pervade her thoughts and sicken her body. The Shifters around her were no longer quiet, cheering and shoving and h
owling right along with the enraged combatants. Some had discarded their masks, pushed the hoods of their clothing down as to better see the show. Mary-Lou cringed to see the faces of young men and women twisted in bestial blood-lust. She stepped back, needing to distance herself from the horror of it all – if just for a moment. Sasha and Cara did not notice, not until it was too late.
Later, Mary-Lou would blame the noise – the chaos of it all for not noticing the man before he stood before her, before he had sliced sharp claws over her stomach.
The pain was hot and immediate, wrenched a scream out of Mary-Lou before the understanding of what had happened fully materialized in her mind. A roar answered her but moments later, the unknown assailant disappearing into the crowd as all turned toward the unexpected noise, Mary-Lou felt Sasha and Cara press close against her, heard them snarl as others attempted to draw near. Another roar, this one much closer, quieted the unruly crowd.
“Jonas,” Mary-Lou whispered, pain-glazed eyes blinking the figure towering above her into focus.
It was Jonas, and it wasn’t: A feral, wild-eyed mirror image of the gentle man stared down at Mary-Lou’s crumbled form, lips parted to let out low, terrifying growls. His face was painted red, his hands covered in blood up to the elbows – the very picture of monstrous beauty. Mary-Lou lifted a trembling hand toward him, meaning to calm her mate. As the motion revealed the gaping wound in her torso, the blood soaking the pale blue of her tank top into indigo, it had a rather opposite effect.
Jonas’ eyes narrowed to slits, fists so tight his own blood seeped through his clenched fingers as his claws sliced into the flesh of his palms. “Who?” he roared through a mouthful of jagged teeth, “Who dared?”
No one answered.
When Mary-Lou blinked again, she saw Wiley standing at Jonas’ back: An inverted image of Jonas’ blonde hair and golden skin. The dark-haired man was pale with the loss of blood, covered in wounds and bites and sweat. He, too, frowned with anger, dark eyes flat and lifeless as he stared down at Mary-Lou.
“C-careful,” Mary-Lou gasped, pointing unsteadily toward Wiley’s hovering figure. If he were to attack Jonas now—
Wiley, noticing the gesture and reading its intent, shook his head with a hard glare.
“I’m not a coward,” the Wolf Shifter spat out. He then bumped against Jonas, trying to call the other Shifter’s attention back to himself, “We aren’t done yet.”
“It’s over,” Jonas said firmly. He seemed to have come back to himself; his eyes were human once again, at least, even if the rest of him still thrummed with animalistic violence. He tore the remnants of his tattered shirt off his body and kneeled by Mary-Lou, gently moving his mate’s hands so he could bind the wound. “Stay awake,” he implored. Mary-Lou nodded back, not daring close her eyes as another wave of pain and nausea washed through her. Shadows numbed her mind, drew a veil of darkness over her thoughts – she gasped, suddenly short of breath.
“What do you mean?” Wiley demanded, voice changing to a growl as no one paid him any mind, “This was to be a fight to the death, Edwards! Are you truly gonna forfeit?”
“I am not forfeiting!” Jonas snarled back, voice echoed by Cara and Sasha. He turned to level Wiley with a pointed glare, “My mate’s health takes precedence. Since you are here to claim Mary-Lou as your mate, I would think you’d agree!”
Wiley’s lips tightened in an angry frown. He could not disagree – not without nullifying the Challenge. Jonas nodded sharply in response, then turned back to the only deserving object of his attention.
“We will get you home, Mary-Lou,” he promised, “We’ll get you home, and everything is going to be okay.”
Mary-Lou wondered if Jonas was trying to lie to her, or himself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mary-Lou lay in bed, tired and aching extremely, indescribably frustrated. She did not care much about being the victim – which was all she had been over the past few days, no, the past month. It was…upsetting, to say the least.
“Are you alright?”
Jonas’ hovering was starting to get pretty old, too. The fact that it was warranted grated like nothing else.
“I’m fine,” Mary-Lou sighed. Jonas resumed his nervous pacing, eyes flickering from Mary-Lou’s prone form to the door and back.
They were waiting for Rowfer; the old man had been the first person Jonas contacted after getting Mary-Lou to safety and regaining the ability to think. “He will heal you,” Jonas had told her when Mary-Lou made a token of protest, “He will tell us what happened. What will happen.”
Mary-Lou felt guilty for making the aged Healer travel what was likely a great distance twice in one week. Still, she could not fault Jonas’ thinking – something was wrong with her, something that went deeper than the torn skin of her stomach and torso.
Her head was too full.
The shadows had receded somewhat – blown away by pain and Jonas’ presence, the quiet warmth of her pack about her. Still, Mary-Lou felt their presence in her mind, like snakes lying hidden in tall grass; whispers of motion, of existence thrummed beneath an otherwise even surface, weighted her mind and burdened her body. She could not move beneath it, felt more exhausted with every breath. It was intolerable.
“He’s here!” Cara called out from her spot by the window. Mary-Lou winced at the noise, her voice echoed by a silent hiss in her head.
“Tell Sasha to guide him in,” Jonas ordered, unwilling to leave Mary-Lou alone. He strode to the bed, kneeled to grasp her hand in his and kiss her palm.
“You will be fine,” he promised again. Mary-Lou nodded, more for his sake than her own. She did not feel fine, did not think she will be fine for a long, long while.
The front door opened with a dull thud, two sets of staggered footsteps making their way to the bedroom’s entrance.
“Alright,” Rowfer’s raspy voice grumbled; Mary-Lou turned her head to see the man’s wrinkled face, trying to muster a greeting. Rowfer waved her off, “What happened this time,” he asked Jonas, in a tone that clearly stated he was simply too old for their foolishness.
Jonas told him what he could, what they knew: Told him about Wiley’s Challenge, the fight, the unknown assailant and Mary-Lou’s subsequent ailment. Rowfer let out periodic snorts; when he heard about Mary-Lou’s injury, he rolled his eyes and smacked Jonas with his cane.
“The girl is hurt? For goodness’ sake, boy – move away.”
Jonas hastily made space for the aged Healer. Rowfer tottered past him, grumbling about idiots and blood loss and have they not heard of a hospital? Still, when he laid his hands on Mary-Lou they were gentle, careful about the jagged edges of her wound.
“This will sting a little,” Rowfer warned. The aged Healer then bent his head over her stomach and breathed out a string of strange words, hands trembling over a sudden surge of warmth and light. Mary-Lou gasped, half in pain, half in surprise, as her hurt was washed away.
It was over within moments. Mary-Lou held her breath as she lowered her hands to her stomach, hesitant then relieved as she found nothing but crusted blood where flesh had gaped open. “Thank you,” she whispered. Rowfer shook his head, reluctant as always to accept any gratitude.
“Don’t thank me,” the Healer growled, “You aren’t well yet.”
“B-but she is healed!” Cara called out, then added, “She is, isn’t she?”
“Physically,” Rowfer said. “Her mind… That, I can’t do anything about.”
“What is wrong with her mind?” Jonas’ voice was high with worry Mary-Lou felt awful for putting there.
“Her powers are acting up,” Rowfer explained, “Something got twisted, thrown into a loop when she was struck – a defense mechanism that tied to kick in but couldn’t, likely because she did not know how to let it.”
Jonas turned to stare down into his mate’s pale face, brows narrowed with concern and a bit of anger, “Why did you not tell me?” he demanded. Mary-Lou shook her head.
“I did n
ot know,” she answered, which was not the truth but not a lie either. Jonas was not mollified, but decided to let it go in favor of dealing with the problem at hand. “What can we do?” he asked of Rowfer.
“Nothing,” the old Shifter sighed. “She has to help herself. Since she doesn’t even know what’s wrong, however…”
“What?” Sasha demanded. Rowfer paused to throw the Snake Shifter a glare; Sasha subsided, rephrasing his question, “Please. We cannot do nothing.”
“Sometimes, nothing is all that can be done,” Rowfer raised a hand, staving off the inevitable cries of protest, “However, in this case I may know someone who can help.”
“Who?” Jonas asked, “Where can we find them?”
“She was an old friend of mine, and is currently a bit difficult to get in touch with.” Rowfer muttered.
“Was?” Sasha hissed, “She is dead? What are you playing at, you old –”
“Sasha!” Cara clamped a hand over the Snake Shifter’s mouth, successfully stifling his voice. Sasha continued to glare at Rowfer, unrepentant; Mary-Lou sighed, wishing she could cover her face. Kids, the lot of them.
“I am guessing there is a way to contact her?” Mary-Lou asked. She was not too surprised when Rowfer gave a short nod; little surprised her nowadays. “Alright, what do we have to do?”
“There is a ritual,” Rowfer began, ignoring Sasha’s muttered, Of course, a ritual, why didn’t you say so sooner, “A ceremony that must take place, on the twelfth second of the twelfth hour the night you plan to summon her.”
“Tonight,” Jonas said. Rowfer nodded.
“Tonight. You must sit in a pool of moonlight – don’t laugh at me, son, or I will turn you into a worm –” Sasha rolled his eyes but quieted, and Rowfer continued with an aggravated harrumph, “And spill your blood as you say her name.”