Wolfish: Curseborne

by G. K. DeRosa

  “Stop,” I blurted. “I stopped because of you, not because of me. I want this. Whatever you can give me, I’ll take.” Tears welled in my eyes, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay.

  “Don’t say that,” he muttered, anguish dripping through our bond. “You deserve so much more.” His eyes found mine, and a sparkle flickered beneath the deep emerald. “And I will find a way to give it to you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Cass shot me a look my mom would be proud of as I bent over the sink brushing my teeth.

  I spat out the toothpaste and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m totally fine, Cass. They wouldn’t have released me from the infirmary this morning if I wasn’t. Between the kickass healing potion you concocted and my enhanced wolfy healing abilities, I can barely feel a thing anymore.”

  She eyed me skeptically. I stood up straight, throwing my shoulders back. And gritted my teeth through the spasm ghosting over my spine.

  “I know how much you want to find a cure to this curse, but it’ll all be for nothing if you die along the way.”

  I marched back into my bedroom and placed my hands on my best friend’s shoulders. “No one’s dying so don’t be so dramatic. Hunter and I are just going to Maginaria to meet with a sorcerer friend of Bea’s. I’ll be ten times safer doing that than competing in the trials.”

  She pursed her lips into a frown. “And look how that turned out…”

  “I didn’t die though, did I?” I drew her into a hug and regretted it immediately. Her hands skimmed my back and I jumped, a hiss erupting from my clenched lips.

  “You are not okay!” Cass’s light brows shot up as she released me.

  “I’m just a little sore, no biggie.”

  Two quick knocks at the door put an end to our conversation. I darted out into the living room with Cass’s angry footfalls trailing behind me. Before I whipped the door open, the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Hunter. I could feel his presence through the thick oak, and a wave of excitement raced through my veins.

  I couldn’t help my lips splitting into a ridiculous smile when he entered. He’d stayed with me all day at the infirmary and had even spent the night slouched on a small chair in the corner of the room. It had reminded me of the day we’d first met back at the academy.

  “She’s not okay,” Cass blurted before I had a chance to get a word out.

  The smile on Hunter’s face twisted into a scowl. “What do you mean?” His eyes raked over me as worry spilled through the bond.

  Traitor! I threw my friend a narrowed glare and turned back to him. “I’m totally fine, just a little sore. Cass is being overly cautious.”

  “As well she should be. You lost a lot of blood yesterday, Sierra.” He gripped my shoulders and twirled me around. Gently, he lifted the back of my shirt. His fingertips grazed my skin, and goose bumps exploded over my exposed flesh.

  “It’s fine,” I hissed, spinning free. “No bleeding since yesterday.”

  Cass waggled a finger at Hunter, her expression serious. “Make sure she keeps putting the potion on.” She shoved a vial into his hand. “I’m trusting you to take care of her. If anything happens on your little trip today, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

  Hunter smirked and pocketed the small container. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ve gotta run. Some of the Royals got in a fight last night over a female, and now I have three in the lair’s infirmary.” She rolled her eyes. “Men!” Turning back to me, she threw me a tight smile. “Please be careful.”

  “I will, thanks, mom.”

  With a huff, she darted out. As my gaze trailed her receding form down the tunnel, my thoughts flew to my actual mom. I’d been sending text messages every day to check in and I’d gotten quick replies, but with all the trial drama I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a week. I added it to my mental to-do list.

  Hunter’s warmth seared through my shirt, drawing me to the present, and my body took a step back of its own accord. I leaned into his strong torso, reveling in the contact for a few more seconds. His hands closed around my shoulders, and his breath tickled the shell of my ear. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  I spun around to face him. “Yes, absolutely.”

  “We can always wait—”

  “No! We’re going today. We only have a few days before the second round starts so we need to move quickly.”

  “Okay,” he muttered. Cupping my face, he ran his thumb over my cheek. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Sierra. My father searched for months when the curse was placed on me, then I did the same after it kicked in. I don’t know how much we’ll discover in three days.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We have to try.”

  He nodded, and his gaze cast down to the note still hung on the refrigerator. His note. The one he’d left me at the infirmary when we’d first met. A rueful smile curved his lips as he skimmed the dark scrawling. “I was so stupid,” he finally said.

  “Why stupid?”

  “To think that I could ever stay away from you.”

  Heat flooded my veins, and my heart staggered on a beat. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  He didn’t respond, and for the umpteenth time I wished I could read his mind. It wasn’t fair that the link only worked one way. After an endless pause, he laced his fingers through mine and tugged me to the door. “Let’s go. We don’t want to keep Draven waiting.”

  As much as I would’ve loved to have spent an hour pressed into Hunter’s torso with the wind blowing through my hair as we flew to Maginaria, I wasn’t sure my wound could take it. So instead, we took the portal which dropped us off just a few streets away from this Draven guy’s home.

  It was weird being back in the cobblestoned center of the magical realm. I hadn’t spent much time in Midtowne while at Arcane Academy, but it still brought me back to those dreaded years. What would my life have been like if I’d lived in Moon Valley? Would I have grown up beside Hunter? Or would I have been killed along with my pack?

  I shook off the dreary thoughts and focused on the feel of Hunter’s fingers threaded through mine. Our hands fit perfectly together, two pieces of a wolfy puzzle. Until I’d met him that day, I hadn’t realized how alone I’d felt my whole life. How lost. I could never go back to that. I’d fight for Hunter, for my mate, no matter what it cost.

  He slowed and pointed up at an old house off the main street. The steeply pitched thatched roof, wooden shutters and accents were typical of the Tudor homes in Midtowne. It reminded me of the style I’d seen in books of old German villages.

  “This is it.” He stopped in front of the steps to the arched wooden door and something undecipherable carved into the tense set of his jaw. “There’s something I have to tell you—"

  “So who is this guy exactly?” I blurted over his words. “Oh, sorry, what?”

  He shook his head, and his lips thinned into a hard line. “Nothing, never mind. I’ll tell you later. Uh, Draven is a very powerful, and very old sorcerer. He’s been a high member of the Coven Council for decades. Didn’t they teach you anything at that academy?”

  “The name does sound vaguely familiar.” Kind of.

  “Anyway, apparently he and Bea go way back. I was hesitant to involve someone from the Council, but Terra insists that if Bea trusts him, we should too. And besides, we’re only here for him to check out the curse, he doesn’t need to know about your Mystic half.”

  “I thought you said no one outside of Marlwoods knew about the special Lunar Packs.”

  “I said very few. Obviously, all of the healers the packs employ are aware of our unique nature.”

  “Oh, right.”

  He turned toward the door and ticked his head up the steps. “Shall we?”

  “Absolutely.”

  A moment after Hunter knocked, the old door creaked open, and a tiny man appeared in the doorway. He squinted at us, scrunching his bulbous nose before stepping b
ack. “You must be Aristaeus and Sierra?” We both nodded. “Please, come in. Master Draven is in the sitting room.”

  We followed him into the foyer and the thick scent of magic filled the air. It buzzed over my skin, tickling my pores. An archway led into a cluttered living room with towering bookshelves lining all four walls. In the center, sat an elderly man with a pipe clenched between his yellowing teeth. He stood as we approached, and I had to incline my head all the way back to take him in from head to toe. He was at least a foot taller than Hunter, and my wolfy mate was over six feet.

  “Draven.” Hunter dipped his head.

  “Ah, yes, you must be Aristaeus, the supreme beta I’ve heard about.” The old man’s deep purple robe swished across the floor as he wobbled toward us. “And you must be Sierra.” I lowered my head, following Hunter’s lead. The old man gave me a warm smile, the kindness mirrored in his pale gray irises. Wild silver eyebrows matched a handlebar mustache and flowing white beard. With all the hair covering his face, there wasn’t a single strand left for his bald head. “Please, sit.” He motioned at the upholstered settee, which reminded me of something I’d find at Gram’s.

  Hunter and I folded onto the couch, and the sorcerer returned to his leather recliner. He picked up his pipe once more and inhaled a long puff. The cloud of white smoke hung in the air for a never-ending minute before finally dissipating and revealing the man behind once again. “Now, I understand you two are here about a curse.”

  I nodded quickly. “Do you think you can break it?”

  He chuckled, taking another puff. “There are many moving parts to a curse, my dear. First, I must know more about it.” Turning to Hunter, he said, “Tell me all that you know.”

  My wolfy mate’s eyes darted to mine, and a pang of unease surged through our bond. What was he still keeping from me? I tried to shoot back a wave of reassurance, but I still wasn’t sure how this link worked exactly.

  I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner, but with the trials, the timing was never right. His words ricocheted through my mind, unfurling a storm of anxiety.

  What?

  Closing off our connection, he turned back to Draven and cleared his throat. “My father did something terrible. He refused to admit what it was for years, but I believe I know why now.” He stiffened, and his eyes cast to the floor. “He decimated an entire pack, killed off every last wolf out of fear, jealousy, and gods’ knows what else. There was a witch, I don’t know her name, I only know that she was from the coven, Lune Sacré, who was close to the pack.”

  My heart lunged up my throat, and I nearly choked. What? How long had he known?

  “She created the curse,” he continued. “A spell that would curse the alpha’s only son and condemn him to a life without love. My father had told me when I was a boy, and I lived my entire life in fear of it. Once I reached my teens, I thought I’d escaped it somehow. I’d met females before and had been certain I loved them. Then when I was twenty-one, I met Sierra.” His eyes darted to mine for a moment before returning to Draven’s. “I was certain she was my mate from the first time I saw her.”

  My breath hitched, and my body instinctively moved closer to Hunter’s. Every muscle in his body strained.

  “I knew I should stay away. My father assured me the curse would come, it was only a matter of time. But I couldn’t help myself. Staying away from her was like asking a starving man not to eat. I craved her, I needed her more than I needed to breathe.”

  Hot tears pricked my eyes. Tyrien had destroyed my pack, and Hunter had paid the price. Why had he kept that from me?

  “When I wasn’t with her, she was all I thought about. I counted down the days I’d see her again, despite knowing how wrong it was. Then I saw her for the third time, and I was sure of it. I loved her. I didn’t want to fight my feelings anymore, didn’t want to live in fear of the curse. I vowed to tell her everything the very next day. And that was when it happened. In the middle of the night, the curse swooped in and stole everything from me. The pain was excruciating, like claws shredding apart my insides, removing every ounce of love inside. At first, I felt numb, hollow. I was certain Father had gotten it wrong, and that I’d never feel anything again, not just love. But as the weeks went by, my other emotions returned. First anger and rage, then sadness, misery, hatred, all of it came rushing back.”

  Tears filled my eyes and despite my best efforts, one slid free. Hunter had loved me. I wiped my moist cheek and blinked the rest away. He didn’t deserve this. Neither of us did.

  “I scoured Maginaria for a cure. Visited dozens of mages, sorcerers, and what have you. It was a blood curse, that was as far as I’d gotten. Without more details regarding the creator of the curse, no one could help. I only recently came upon this information about Lune Sacré, and I’d hoped it would make a difference.” Hunter’s eyes darted to mine once more. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.

  You should be. That’s kind of a big deal. My anger with him battled my pity. Bea had mentioned my coven weeks ago, and even then I’d noticed he’d reacted to the name. How long had he known the truth about his father killing off my pack? Did he know what he did to my father? I squirmed in my seat, anxious to get Hunter in private so I could drill him with my questions.

  Draven sat forward and steepled his hands. “That is quite a story, young wolf. The addition of the Lune Sacré detail should help your cause, but without the blood of the witch that placed the curse, it will be very difficult.”

  “Is there a Lune Sacré coven we could visit?” I asked. “Perhaps they’d know something about the curse.”

  His wrinkled lips twisted, the canopy of white hairs draped over like a curtain. “If they did, I doubt they’d help you. There’s a reason they do not associate with the Dragos Pack.” He wrung his hands together as he watched us. His watery gaze drifting back and forth between Hunter and me. He finally released a slow breath as if he’d reached some sort of conclusion and motioned at the dwarf who’d escorted us in. I hadn’t even noticed he’d remained by the doorway this whole time. “Bring the supplies, Needer.”

  The little man darted through the archway and returned a few moments later with a black cauldron pressed to his chest. Glass clinked and rattled with each of his steps as he set the pot down on the coffee table in front of us.

  Draven glanced at Hunter and gave him a warm smile. “I’ll try my best, but I fear I won’t be able to give you the answers you seek.”

  “We appreciate whatever you can do,” said Hunter.

  The sorcerer pulled a gleaming athame from the dark pot, then dumped the rest of the items on the table. Vials, beakers and a variety of small leather pouches were splayed across the chipped wood. My nose twitched. I recognized some of the scents from my Potions and Poisons class back at Arcane.

  Draven opened his hand to Hunter, clutching the athame in the other. It was always about bloodletting with supes. For once, at least it wasn’t my blood they wanted. Hunter placed his hand palm-up in the sorcerer’s and with a quick slice, the crimson liquid spilled. The old man positioned a glass container beneath the wound and soon the small vessel was full. Placing it in the now empty cauldron, he began to mutter, his lips fluttering in a fevered pace. As he spoke the words of the incantation, he added the remaining ingredients. Toadstool, willow bark, a crow’s foot. Gods, I was so happy to be done with all of this. As a wolf, I hoped I’d never have to brew another failed concoction in my life.

  Draven turned to Hunter and said, “Repeat after me, veritas dictum, veritas lucidium, maledizione fine.”

  Hunter mouthed the words, and the cloying scent of strong magic filled the air. With each repetition, their tempo quickened until the atmosphere became charged with power. The heady chant skimmed over my skin, puckering my flesh. Before I could stop myself, my lips began to move in the hypnotic rhythm.

  A swirl of heat awakened in my core, as the beat thrummed on. My fingers curled around the upholstered cushions, my claws sliding free. For a second, I was co
mpletely lost, completely consumed by the thrall of Draven’s words.

  I clasped my hands together and purple sparks danced along my fingertips. What the? I lifted my hands to my face and blinked rapidly. The flicker of lavender was gone.

  “Terminum!” Draven’s shout tore me from the magical stupor, and my eyes snapped wide open. The old sorcerer leaned back in his chair, his head lolling forward and lids closed.

  Hunter jumped up and shook the man’s shoulder. “Draven, Draven, are you all right?”

  Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, the gray a few shades dimmer than it had been. “Ah, yes, I’m fine, young wolf. Just a little out of practice.” He frowned as his gaze settled on the cauldron. A black cloud of smoke hovered over the opening. “I’m afraid I was right. Whoever cast that curse made sure no one but her could break it. I couldn’t even latch onto the witch’s signature. The only thing I could determine is that you are dealing with the Lune Sacré coven. And that was only because you provided the information, and I was able to cross reference it with their magical signature. It explains why you’ve had so much trouble till now. My guess is whoever cast it was a very powerful witch, likely the leader of the coven. That should help you narrow things down.”

  A swirl of hope filled my insides, the combination of Hunter’s and mine entwining in a happy dance. “Thank you, Draven,” I finally said.

  He nodded, and a slow smile curled his lips. “If you don’t have luck with the Lune Sacré, there may be one more option, but I’d save it as a last result.”

  “What’s that?” Hunter asked.

  The sorcerer pressed his lips together into a tight line. “Like I said, we’ll save it for a last resort. For now, seek out the Lune Sacré. They are a very secretive bunch, and it will likely take you a while to find them. When you do, tell them I sent you. Hopefully, this way, they will at least speak to you.”