The Dying Fate (The Umbra Chronicles Book 1)

by Willow Ravenheart

  "He had a mental break several years ago," he admits to me, "There's nothing that we can do to help him except stay out of his way. He accepts odd jobs out of state for the pack, mostly illegal shit I'm sure. We have a don't ask don't tell policy when it pertains to my brother. He’s perfectly fine sometimes when he comes home. Other times…he’s wild."

  "What happened?"

  "The same thing that happened to me...." he hisses with a wince, a dark, tortured look crossing his face, "I promise, I didn't know he was home. I only scented him when I came looking for you. I won't let him bother you anymore. Mostly, he's harmless, but I don't trust him at times. You shouldn't either."

  Elliot pulls me into his arms and I lay my head on his chest, listening to the erratic tempo within his chest. He takes in a deep breath, the air passing from his lips tickling my scalp as the breeze washes over me. What happened to them? His brother's face...it was awful and looked like an old scar...just like the angry scars along Elliot's chest and back.

  "You do smell different," he mumbles, his face buried in my hair, "I don't like it."

  "Why?" I ask, pulling away from him.

  "We need to see Alpha Ronan...you're too close to the second stage of the change. We will explain anything to you then. Come on," he says, taking me by the hand.

  ∞∞∞

  I follow Elliot down the small, gravel pathway. My stomach is tied in knots, only growing more uncomfortable with every step that we take. Before he pulled me from the house, he informed me that Denny was safe and that he'd ordered Louis and Sebastian to watch over him. It seems like everyone who works at the bar is part of their pack, except for Denny of course.

  "Alpha Ronan is a very nice man, Macy. So, you don't have much to worry about. He and his mate, Alana led our pack for nearly fifty years. He may seem a bit rough around the edges, but he's one of the kindest leaders in the Southeast," Elliot informs me as we approach a house even larger than his.

  My jaw nearly hits the ground as I look over the huge building. There are at least twenty windows on this side of the house alone. I notice several children in the front yard playing with a large playhouse.

  "Who all lives here?" I ask Elliot as I clutch his arm, my fingers digging in as panic overtakes me.

  "About fifteen families live here. This is one of the seven pack houses that are scattered throughout our territory. The pack members who decide not to live alone choose to reside here, in the pack houses. I usually travel to each of them throughout the week, making sure that everything's running smoothly. But, since Ronan made me your Guardian, I've asked Hank and Louis to pick up the slack," he tells me before pulling me to the huge, covered front porch.

  I look up, noticing an old man sitting in a rocking chair, his eyes focused on Elliot and me. His bright green eyes track our every movement, a small smirk on his face as he stares at our joined arms. He pushes onto his feet and walks to us, a gnarled, black cane in his hand. The man surprises me when he walks up to Elliot and lovingly pulls him in for a hug.

  "It's good to see your face again," the man chuckles before turning his eyes to me, the pale green irises shining behind the thick spectacles placed across his nose, "You must be, Macy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

  I thank him quietly, my eyes darting past him to look at the man standing at the doorway, his eyes trained on the elderly man before me. He holds himself with the power and arrogance that I can only expect of a man that could lead such a large group of people. Hell, he's nearly the same size as Elliot, but something just doesn't seem right. I don't sense a power radiating from him like I do from Elliot.

  "Macy, I would like to introduce you to our leader, Alpha Ronan," Elliot tells me, his man motioning to the elderly man before me.

  I stand still in shock for a moment. How the hell can this man lead? He's got to be at least seventy years old!

  "I can sense what's running through your mind, Little One," Ronan chuckles before taking my hands and clasping them in his own, "I assure you that I have no problems leading this pack. Not with Elliot’s help of course. Now, let's get inside and talk about the troubling news that Elliot's informed me of."

  I follow behind him, noticing the man at the doorway quickly reaching to open the door for us, his head bowed as Ronan walks through. His head stays down until we are safe inside the house and closes the door, taking his post back in front of the door.

  "That's Jared," Elliot whispers, "he's one of the pack's protectors. He's been posted here to serve as sentry. If something happens, he'll be the first one to jump into action to protect the pack while we get the elderly and children to safety. He takes his job serious, just as he should."

  I nod at what Elliot told me, my eyes flickering across the room as I take in all the people scattered throughout. It's a large room, with a kitchen featuring triple stoves, ovens, and sinks to one side and a living room to the other. There's a large television mounted to the wall, about a dozen children piled on the floor in front of it as they watch some cartoon. Everyone greets us as we pass and Elliot steps forward to open the door to a large, beautifully decorated office.

  Ronan urges us to sit and takes his seat at the desk, his hands folded across the ancient piece of furniture. I bite my lip, looking down into my lap as I wait for them to speak.

  "So, Elliot tells me that you've just recently experienced the first stage of the change. Is this correct, Macy?" Ronan asks, finally breaking the silence.

  "Yes, sir," I mumble, twisting the hem of my shirt in my hands.

  "When was she bitten?" Ronan asks, his pale green eyes turning to Elliot.

  "It's been about five days." Elliot tells him, causing the old man to take a deep breath.

  "What's wrong?" I ask, glancing between the two men, "What's going on?"

  "Let me start with this, in a normal first shift, the stages happen across the time span of a year. You leapt from one stage to the next within the matter of days. Your body isn't prepared for this kind of stress. For goodness sake, you honestly shouldn't have survived the first stage with how quick it hit you, " Ronan confesses, causing me to feel faint.

  "So," I sigh, turning to Elliot, "I've made it through the first stage. Am I okay now?"

  "I don't know," he says honestly, "We've never seen or heard of anyone like you. That should have killed you."

  "Why?" I ask, honestly wanting to know what makes me so special. I mean, I'm grateful that I have my arm back, but I would have been happy with just that. Why does everything have to be obsessed with trying to kill me?

  "Because, like I said, the stages take nearly a year to develop. You went through from being bitten to the first stage within days...no one has ever survived that," Ronan says, his voice dripping with honesty.

  "Oh," I breathe. How is it possible for me and not someone...stronger? I mean, I was just a broken girl. There's nothing outstanding about me except my apparent refusal to die.

  "You're stabilizing now," he assures me, "Elliot was spooked by your scent changing, but that's something that randomly happens between the first and second stage. It's nothing to fear. If you would like, I will have our physician, Robert, come by every morning to check on you. If you've continued to stabilize over the last few weeks, maybe the worst is over."

  "Maybe?" I exclaim. He's not good at reassuring someone.

  "Macy," he sighs, "there are five separate stages before your first shift. The first is what we call, Adaption, it’s when your genes rearrange within your body. That's what happened to you so far. There are several more stages to the change, but like I said...it will take a while for them to surface. "

  "So, what's next?" I ask.

  "The next is Amelioration, this is when your senses heighten. The third is The Awakening, you will become conscious of your Umbra. The fourth is Acclimation, that's the worst part. Your body will basically feel as though you're burning from the inside out. We run hotter than others, so it's like having the flu for a few months."

  "Fun," I exclaim
sarcastically, "so what's after that?"

  "Well...the last stage before your first shift is what we simply call Heat. All your emotions are heightened and this is the most dangerous stage. That's why I had to bring you out here. You could seriously hurt someone. For a common Turned Shifter, this is the most difficult stage."

  "Then?" I urge him, deciding that it's not a good idea to mention Kana.

  "You'll experience, The Shift. Your body will take on the shape of your Umbra and you'll be one with the most primal part of your consciousness."

  "Will I be a wolf?" I ask, thinking of the panic which struck me when Elliot was in his wolf form.

  "It depends...." he says, "We don't know who attacked you. The Shifter Community is full of several species. Umbra's come from all over the world. They're always a predator from their area. So, North America has wolves, cougars and bears mostly. Africa has other species like lions and cheetahs. It's the same with every continent of origin. You will shift into the same animal as the one who attacked you, so we won't know what your Umbra will be until you finally shift."

  "So, you think I'm okay?" I ask, looking between the two men.

  "I'm not one hundred percent certain, but I feel as though the worst is over. Now, why don't you take some time and tell me about yourself, Little One? Oh, and let's also talk about those questionable photos that Louisa sent to me." Ronan says, his hand reaching across the desk to grasp my own, a playful smirk on his wrinkled face.

  Chapter Twelve

  How the hell did I end up in the backseat of Elliot's huge, cobalt blue pickup truck? Well...Alpha Ronan and I spoke for a while. He noticed the too loose clothes I was wearing and shot Elliot a look. As Elliot drug me from the office, he informed me that he'd been ordered to take me shopping.... Like, shopping...really?

  It was a lot harder to convince Denny to let me leave the house than I expected. We argued for nearly an hour before he finally agreed, but with one condition. He had to tag along. So, now I'm in the backseat of Elliot's truck, trying my best to not vomit. Haven't these people ever heard of pavement? I swear, this dirt road has more holes in it than Swiss cheese.

  "Macy, are you alright back there?" Elliot asks. I can see his pale eyes in the rear-view mirror. I stick my hand up, flipping him off before turning my eyes to the forest around us.

  Elliot wasn't kidding when he said that we're in the middle of nowhere. All I can see are trees, trees and oh...another fucking tree. It's pure, untamed wilderness and honestly, I'm not used to this. I've lived close to the city for my entire life. Sure, there are small forests close to my home, but I can't remember the last time I saw a real forest, not one man made.

  "We're almost there," he says, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the truck.

  I look forward, finally seeing a break in the trees. It's breathtaking. Either side of the road is lined with dense greenery, so thick that it'd be impossible to hike through. Visible, right in the middle, is the clearest, blue sky that I can remember. Thank Jesus, is that pavement I see? I didn't realize how cut off from society I felt until climbing into the truck.

  "Civilization awaits!" Denny cries from the passenger seat. I laugh with him, realizing that he was in the same frame of mind as me.

  "Living in the woods isn't all bad...." Elliot mutters as the tires finally touch pavement.

  "For you maybe," Denny grumbles, "I personally enjoy watching television and ordering takeout."

  "I have a television!" Elliot exclaims, attempting to stand up for himself.

  "That atrocity sitting in your living room does not count!" Denny laughs, "We are in the twenty-first century, not the stone age!"

  Denny and Elliot banter back and forth for a while. I'm glad that my best friend is here with me. I don't know if I would be able to survive this massive amount of weirdness without him. I glance down to look at my hand, the one which magically grew back. It's my hand, but I can't help the indescribable way I feel about it.

  "So," Elliot sighs, "I have a few things to tell you before we get into town."

  "What would that be?" I ask.

  "First, don't be scared if you see a few predators roaming the streets. I know for a fact that Alexi, one of our residents, likes to stay in form. So, if you see a tiger walking around...just give him his space. He's got a nasty temper and isn't too cordial to newcomers," he tells us as he pulls onto a larger side road.

  "Anything else?" I scoff. Why would someone choose to stay in their animal form?

  "Yes, some of the residents...let's just say they aren't too keen on eye contact. Please, by no means look someone directly in the eyes unless I tell you it's okay...." he tells us seriously.

  "Why would they have a problem with that?" Denny scoffs.

  "Denny, I know it's hard to understand...." Elliot says with a sigh, "Shifters pick up on a lot of characteristics of their Umbra. With that being said, with most animals, eye contact in the wild means that you're asserting dominance over them or asking for a fight. Do you think you could hold your own in a fight with a tiger?"

  "Okay, I understand. Do not look a Shifter in the eye!" Denny exclaims. Poor Denny, he really doesn't know what he's got himself into.

  "That's most of it though," Elliot says, "Well, what I can cover in such a short time. Just be polite and I'll take care of the rest."

  Elliot pulls the truck into a parking spot and I look out the window. My breath catches in my throat at the sight before me. We're in the middle of a quaint, beautifully built country town. All the businesses line the cobblestone roadway, their windows full of miscellaneous products. Elliot wasn't kidding, there's a variety of people walking the street from all walks of life. There are even a few animals, mostly wolves, scattered. Most of them are lounging in the shade along the sidewalks. Several wolves also sit at the corners of the buildings, their bright eyes scanning the crowd before them.

  "The wolves are our Sentries," Elliot says as he opens his door, "They keep an eye on things to make sure that nothing's out of place."

  "So, they're watchdogs?" Denny asks as he hops out of the car. Several people turn to look at him, scowls on their faces.

  "Pretty much," Elliot chuckles, "but if I were you...I wouldn't say that out loud."

  "Fuck...." Denny mumbles as he ducks his head. He waves at the people, but they just scoff at him before walking away.

  "Way to go for a good first impression," I tell him as I hop out of the truck and onto the stone path.

  "Just one of my classic Denny moments...." He mumbles as he walks to me and wraps his arms around me.

  "Let's hurry up and get you some clothes," Elliot huffs as he walks to us. I glance at him, appreciating the sight before me.

  The country boy can clean up, that much is true. He's pulled his long hair up into a messy bun, the bound strands sticking out in all directions. He tossed on a pair of low riding jeans before we left the house and a charcoal long sleeved t-shirt. I look down to his feet, noticing the huge black boots that stick out from the hem of his pants.

  "Where should we go first?" I ask, averting my eyes to look at all the shops lining the street.

  "Mamma Kate always has some nice things," He says, taking off toward the buildings.

  "Mamma Kate?" I ask, looking to Denny who simply shrugs at me.

  We follow Elliot as he navigates through the crowd with ease. Everyone seems to be giving him a wide berth, as if they're scared of bumping into him.

  "Here we are," Elliot announces.

  I look up to the store front we stopped in front of. Sure enough, it says 'Mamma Kate's' in large, white letters across the upper corner of the window. I walk into the store, behind my overly large bodyguard. The scent of cinnamon hits me the moment we walk onto the sales-room floor. It's not a bad scent, just strong! Racks of clothing and other miscellaneous items surround me.

  "Wow!" Denny whispers from behind me.

  "What were you expecting? An old thrift store or something?" Elliot laughs. I can barely see the top of his h
ead through all the clothing racks.

  "Something like that...." Denny mumbles before looking at some clothes.

  I look around, surprisingly, everything's fairly inexpensive. I snatch several pairs of jeans and a few shirts before looking for a dressing room to try them on. I grabbed several different sizes since I have no clue what my measurements are anymore.

  "Dressin' room's in the back," a meek sounding voice calls from my left.

  I glance over to spy a small, elderly woman standing behind the register stand. Her cotton white hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and a strand of pearls adorn her skinny neck.

  "Thank you...." I mutter as I navigate my way to the back of the store. I see a few curtains installed and quickly duck behind one. Denny sticks his head in for a moment and tosses a stack of clothes at me that he'd picked up along the way.

  "Try those on too!" he orders before leaving me alone.

  It takes a while to try on all the clothes I grabbed. Of course, I grabbed mostly the wrong sizes, so Denny has become my designated runner.

  "Can you find this in a size up?" I ask, tossing a pair of acid washed jeans in his direction.

  "Of course, Your Majesty...." he mumbles.

  I take a moment to look at myself in the broken mirror hanging on the wall. Thankfully, it was easy to find fitting undergarments. So, I ripped the tags off and pulled them on before trying on all the clothes. I've developed more curves. I never felt the need to constantly wear a bra before, but I do now.

  I'm so focused on my reflection that I don't hear the curtain rustle. I nearly jump out of my skin as Elliot slides behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders. A sly smile sneaks to his face as he runs his fingers across the straps to the bold, red bra that I'm now sporting.

  "This looks nice," he whispers, his breath fanning against my cheek as he leans down to look at our reflections in the mirror.

  I close my eyes, taking a deep reassuring breath as his hands work their way up and down my shoulders. The inner whore in me wants to turn around and latch onto him like a spider-monkey, but I reign her in and turn to face him.