“Yes, she had to go take her place with the coven. We knew it would happen eventually, and there was a crisis that needed her attention over there. It was time.” Isaiah knew it was himself he was trying to convince and not Tamara. If it had been up to her, Annalise would have been gone before they all got to know each other. There were others in the pack that silently felt that way as well. Even if it wasn't going to do much for bandaging up his heart and soul, it was going to make things calmer and easier with the pack.
“Well, I wish her luck.” Tamara's statement surprised him, but Isaiah left it alone, fully dressed and following her out into the living room again. “So, what about these plans?” she asked, blocking the doorway.
“Well, I have to admit to you, the first thing we have to do is not going to be fun, but it’s our job. We have to go handle Roman and the official punishment. I want to do it quietly, but since it involves you, I think you should be there, too.” Tamara nodded. “But, after that, I scheduled a tasting for us in town with a small caterer; cake, alcohol, and appetizers for the reception.” Isaiah forced a smile, knowing she would be made happy by that news. “I made it a date.”
Tamara was trying to hide her excitement, but he could tell at least her day was made. “Well, I am warning you that I am not opting for anything fancy. I mean, I do want a wedding, but I like my chocolate cake and beer just fine,” she told Isaiah, making him chuckle at her. Though, a piece of his heart died when he did. “Ready?” she asked, reaching out and grabbing his hand, leading him out the door, and he let her. They walked to Roman's hand in hand, about to break yet another heart for the day. Then again, maybe his brother had no heart left to break after being rejected by Tamara.
Isaiah felt like there would never be anything left to break again in him; no part of the romantic heart he had before, anyway. He had been so sure he could let Annalise go for the sake of the coven and the pack, knowing he had gotten that moment in his dreams out of his system, but she was so not out of it. She was more in it than ever, and she probably always would be. Unless he could drown it out with everything and everyone else around him.
They knocked on the door together, and it opened quickly. Isaiah wouldn't normally knock, but he was there on official business, and he had the object of his brother’s fantasies right next to him. Roman had the right to refuse to see them if he wanted, even if he was about to be punished by the alpha. He could have opted for a private meeting. He didn't, though. He just looked like he was dragging.
“I see you have come to doll out my punishment you said you’d wait on since you felt so bad for me,” Roman commented bitterly. Isaiah noticed the look Tamara shot him. She hadn’t seen him, so she didn't really know the way he had been about everything. In a way, Isaiah knew how cruel it was to keep them apart, but it was the only way for life to go on as it should. He would know.
“I thought it better to do this in private, Roman. Please, don't make this harder than it is.”
“Why are you here?” he nodded to Tamara, and she looked up at him as if she didn't know him at all.
“Well, I am sure there are a few reasons I can think of. The first is this punishment kind of involves me, and the second would be I am the alpha's mate. These kinds of things are my job,” she told him, looking like she wanted to reach out and comfort him, but then thought better of it.
All Roman did was nod and look down. “So, what I have decided after thinking about it is that the two of you need some time apart to get over whatever happened or whatever lingering feelings there might be, for you. So, you are not to see each other anymore unless it is for official business, and it is not to be alone. I don't think any other punishment is necessary for something done in the heat of the moment.” Isaiah finished talking and hoped to get some kind of reaction out of Roman, but he remained looking at the floor. “Is there anything either of you would like to say?” he added.
“I think it’s fair, but I hope we can work towards a friendship again, after the wedding,” Tamara directed at Roman, making him lift his head.
“Yeah,” he said in a whisper with a bewildered look on his face. Isaiah saw his own pain reflected in his brother's eyes. Why did all the Young brothers have to suffer for the sake of duty, no matter how hard they tried not to repeat history?
They left, and Isaiah tried to leave his bad mood behind, in that house with Roman, as he led Tamara to her father’s house, where one of the only vehicles the pack had was waiting for them. “I see my father had something to do with this,” Tamara teased as he helped her into her seat.
“How else was I going to get us into town?” Isaiah asked with a teasing grin. He was rewarded with another smile, and he knew he was doing the right thing for Tamara, anyway. It was the only consolation he was going to have in all of this.
Tamara giggled as they finally made it up to the door of their house after a long day picking out the things they needed for their wedding. They were going with simple but still elegant things…. other than the beer, which was a must for her. She was not a champagne and wine kind of girl and never would be.
She hadn't had that much fun in a while, just letting go with Isaiah.
It was raining on them, not so surprisingly, considering it was the Pacific Northwest. They ran into the house, still talking about all the cakes they tasted; some in the strangest flavors, including pistachio. She never knew there was so much more than vanilla and chocolate.
She hated to hope that all of it was looking up again. She had hoped that so many times and been disappointed over and over. Instead, she was just being herself, having realized Isaiah was a bit right. Annalise and the whole feud there had made her no less than a raging bitch, and how could anyone fall in love like that?
The laughter stopped as they got in the doorway, still in the dark. Tamara reached across Isaiah for the light switch and found that nothing happened. The power was out. That was part of having a small village of werewolves hidden in the woods with the ruse of being a reservation; electricity was not so great, and backup generators were scarce. A lot of rain always meant no power, even for the alpha’s wonderful cabin. In that one way, he was an equal.
The darkness made her feel a charge, though, much like static, as neither of them moved away from each other. She was reminded of the one other time they truly connected and almost mated; how good it had felt. She had the carnal thing down with him, even if it had been a while. They were both good looking people, and they both saw that in each other. Sure, it would be nice to feel something else, but Tamara knew so many of the best relationships began with lust. Lust could be the yellow brick road in this relationship.
Tamara boldly, nothing standing in her way, let go of that strange shyness she kept having with Isaiah. It was dark, and why not release her uptight inhibitions there when they could hardly see? The only ones who would guess what they were doing were their bodyguards, and it was their job to be around. They should have mated already, anyway. Now, that wouldn't be over their head anymore; some strange secret that could make or break their status with the pack.
Her lips were on his, offsetting their balance. They almost fell over, but instead, Isaiah caught her in his arms and scooped her up. She didn’t know if he could see so well in the dark, but he certainly tripped over nothing before landing with her on the couch, her hands scrambling to get his shirt off. Isaiah’s chest was hard as a rock, just like she remembered. It was his best feature, and she ran her hands down it, not sure if she could ever take them off again.
She sighed as his lips traveled down her skin, stopping right at her cleavage before he removed her shirt, as well. She pressed her body against his as they moaned into each other, their pants coming off simultaneously. It was actually happening, and not a damn thing was going to stop them this time. No emergencies, no Annalise, just two people trying to find their sexual fantasies with one another.
Isaiah pulled her body into his, and they crashed together, her breasts enjoying the warmth of his muscul
ar form. Their lips found one another again as his strong hand snaked down her back, giving her chills. His breath and body heated her up so that her hair was clinging to the side of her face. If they were in a car, they would be fogging up the windows like some sexy scene in a movie.
His hands went down her curves until they found her there, making her bite down on his lip ins response. She could taste the coppery drop of blood she drew from him in that moment, only serving to make her feel more like her wolf self; wild and untethered to the human plane.
Tamara growled at him, and he growled back, picking her up with one arm and wrapping her around his body as he came up on his knees. She slid down onto him with barely a warning and called out into the darkness. She didn't even care if it made both their guards come running to see the fire they were making on that couch.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Annalise stood in the circle that her coven made around her and Hyacinthe. Every single coven member, old and young, had come to experience the ceremony. The coven was officially being passed on to Annalise, the rightful leader, and if she was being honest, she felt numb.
She looked out at the crowd surrounding her, the strong numbers that gave them one of the greatest advantages when it came to the North American witch covens. It was that and the power she held in her blood, which was greater than any other.
She had been finding that out in the days that passed her by since she left the pack and Isaiah without ever looking back. She didn't know as near as much about being a witch as she thought she did. Hyacinthe had raised her as sheltered as much as she could, even as Annalise’s powers and responsibilities had grown. Annalise was gaining a new appreciation for her caretaker and aunt, realizing the lengths she had gone to, to try and not make the burden so heavy; the one that she was going to be the coven leader.
Annalise's guilt, not being with her coven sooner, had overwhelmed her at first. She noticed the struggles they were having without their rightful leader at the helm. She was sure Hyacinthe would have been perfectly capable of continuing as things were, if it was necessary, but it had not been. Annalise had been sticking around for a false hope in her silly little heart, instead of doing her job. That was not a mistake she would make again.
Her brain barely processed the words that Hyacinthe was speaking to the coven members. She knew she would be mentioning the end of an era and the beginning of a new one, the pledge of allegiance to the new leader, and the remembrance of her deceased parents, who were gone too young. And that, they were. It was why she was so badly needed. Her father’s blood was still supposed to be protecting the coven and ruling them all, but that ended the day he was killed by a greedy woman and her heretic followers, those who thought they could take a baby and use it for power. Power was not the great gift everyone seemed to think it was, though.
Annalise waited until it was time, until the coven got down to their knees on the ground, their fingers digging into the dirt that had belonged to the Olympia coven for longer than the records knew for certain; much longer than the pack had been around. She knew that much.
Annalise uncovered the ceremonial knife in her hand with ancient Celtic etchings all over it. She did not know how long this exact blade had been used, but she did know her father’s blood had touched it. It was the closest physical connection she would ever have to the man.
Annalise pulled her gray cloak from her head, revealing how her long hair had been braided into a crown of sorts, atop her head. She was wearing a long, dark gown that sparkled as if stardust had been meticulously placed every centimeter, on its cloth. Her blue eyes met the gaze of everyone at the front of the circle before she took the knife and sliced open the opposite palm, blood instantly spilling out onto the ground.
She bent down, already chanting the words of binding; the words of bonding; the words of coven royalty and loyalty, while she dug her palm into the dirt, as far as it would go, with her own strength. Annalise could feel the earth below her sucking out the blood as if it were an ancient vampire with unquenchable thirst. She felt weak and pale as even the plasma was taken from her, in order to nurture the parched magical territory that protected them from harm and from losing their magic.
As she lost her strength, the coven gained it, taking a little bit of her magic into themselves as they pledged their loyalty to her. Annalise could feel everything being restored to the land that was their home. She knew how long she had been away as her bones ran dry and parched without the blood that dictated her life. Yet, she did not die. The earth held its own magic to keep her heart pumping until it gave back, filling her with the blood and powers of all the coven leaders from the past, who had given it their protection. She was renewed and reborn, feeling the duty she had to hold, as greatly and safely as her own heart and soul; the two things that had been tethered to another. Those were now bogged down with an entire race of people she needed to protect and serve.
They all stood, and she was surprised at how steady she was on her feet after it all. The coven members bowed to her, letting her know the covenant they had made with her as well as with the territory itself. Hyacinthe’s hand touched her shoulder lightly as the crowd departed, and Annalise turned to look upon her aunt. Annalise was shocked at what she saw and could not say for certain if it was normal or not. She had never witnessed the ceremony for herself. But Hyacinthe looked older in an instant. She was still beautiful and strong, but Annalise swore there were wrinkles and grey hair that had not been sprinkled into her features only moments before. “I am so proud of you,” she said, revealing laugh lines with her loving smile.
“Having you serve for me all these years was the greatest honor. I never knew that until now.” Annalise pulled her aunt close in a rare show of affection between them.
"Annalise....Annalise...." the whisper came like a snake, taunting her from every direction. Annalise could not get away. Fleeing would do her no good. This was her job as coven leader, one of many, and she couldn't seem to get it together and get Roan out of her head.
"What do you want?" In the real world, there in the woods, secluded from the rest of the coven, she would be talking to herself. At least, she would appear to be, but Hyacinthe would be the only onlooker. In her head, though, her mind linked to the prison holding an unknown number of criminals the Olympia coven had locked away in their own inescapable dimension. Roan was speaking to her. He was trying to get to her, so he could get out. Hyacinthe had warned her he had been particularly brutal compared to any of the others she had to subdue when taking over, and she wasn't joking.
Annalise had seen and heard little from most of the other residents, though there were two that occasionally got brave enough to join in with Roan’s attempted escapes. They didn't have the power over her that he did, though. There was a direct blood link between the two of them, and he was the newest prisoner. His determination had not faded into despair or acceptance yet.
"You know what I want, and you know I deserve it," Roan told her in that same serpentine tone. "You're just a little girl who never wanted any of this. Leave, leave and never come back. No harm will come to Diane or Hyacinthe if you let me have the rest." His offer was ridiculous. He was still trying to become the leader of the coven, even from the magical prison dimension. How had no one ever noticed how insane this man was?
"I will not give into you!" Annalise assured him, through gritted teeth. Her hands flew to the sides of her head as if she could keep him in line that way.
“Oh, but you will. You are not prepared for this, and I am so much stronger. Would you like me to show you how strong I am?” he asked her, taunting her as he began to shake the cage he was in and scream. It reminded her of the thought of a real prison where the craziest and worst of humans spit on people and generally lost their minds. The problem was, his mind was not at all lost. It was still there, going strong.
His screams hurt, and so did the shaking. It was like her brain was experiencing an earthquake, and she could hardly feel the damp earth be
neath her feet, to prove that she was on the mortal plane, nowhere near this created world for the worst of the offenders in the coven’s history. She was beginning to question why Roan had not just been executed. Mercy seemed like cruel self-punishment.
Annalise screamed and screamed, clawing at her head with the sensations. Somewhere far off, she could hear Hyacinthe, chastising her. “You have to fight it, Annalise. Only calm will control them. You have to do this for the safety of the coven. You have to learn!” Hyacinthe’s anger was clear. Annalise could barely make her form out through the searing pain of Roan’s rageful fight, inside of her head. She did not know why this part of being coven leader was so hard for her, but it was the biggest challenge she had faced so far. She just couldn't seem to get it right. This was not the one thing for her to fail but being calm with him picking at her 24 hours a day, even in her sleep, was getting to her.
As Annalise panicked, she could feel her stomach churning with the anxiety of the moment, and she knew she was losing control. He wasn't going to burst out, and even if he did, Hyacinthe could help put him right back or put him down. He could gain more freedom inside the prison. That was the last thing she needed.
Finally, she mentally put a black wall between herself and Roan, using up the rest of her strength. She ran towards a tree, stumbling, spilling all the acid and little food she had that morning, all over the green and wet grass. Her head was pounding and so was her heart.
Hyacinthe came over to her, placing her hands against Annalise’s shoulders. Annalise could tell by her grasp that Hyacinthe meant to turn her around and lecture her; beat it into her another hundred times how important this task was. When Hyacinthe’s grip loosened, instead, Annalise wiped her mouth and looked up into eyes that were neither angry nor calm.
Hyacinthe placed her hands-on Annalise yet again, and Annalise knew by the look on her aunt’s face that something was wrong with her. “What is it, Hyacinthe?”
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