Pondering, I ask, “Not just because I’m going to be bait?”
“I hate that you’re going to be bait, but no, not just because of that.”
I hum. “Well, if you really don’t feel good about it, we can try to figure out something else.”
He chuckles without humor and looks back at the ceiling. “In two days? No”—he shakes his head—“I’m sure it’s just the mate bond hating that I’m putting you in danger.”
His worries are understandable. I’ve been training an insane amount of time over the past month, but I can’t help having doubts. I know my weaknesses show up more when there’s more than one on me. My lycan abilities have grown and become stronger, but my special ability still hasn’t made an appearance. Will I be able to hold my own against an Original?
“Do you think I’m ready?” I can’t help asking.
“I think we prepared you as much as we could without waiting too long to act.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
Ash rolls onto his side to face me, and caresses my arm. “I wish you had more training—years, in fact—but that’s not realistic. I think you made a lot of progress from when we first began. Does that mean I think you’re ready for a battle? Honestly, I don’t know. I hope so. But I don’t think I can ever be okay with you going into a fight. I think the question you should be asking is, do you think you’re ready?”
I bite my lip. That’s the question I have been asking myself. I’m ready for this to be over. I’m ready to move on from Marcus. But we have to defeat him first to do that. If that means I need to be ready now, then I will be.
The twisted faces of the gargoyles looming before us send chills down my spine as if I had never left the frosty hills of Alaska. Morbal’s gothic mansion is in the distance, past the statues and iron gates. There’s a foreboding darkness that exudes from it, just waiting to consume us if we dare to take a step forward. It must have been built in the sixteenth century. It stands out of place with the surrounding green hills and vineyards.
I thought gargoyles were supposed to ward off evil?
Ellie? Ash’s voice sounds in my head. Ash, Foster, Russell, a few other lycans, and I are in our wolf forms. Everyone else is outside Morbal’s territory. Ash will signal to Sophie—who’s also in wolf form—if we need backup. We aren’t sure if Morbal is able to sense lycans like other Originals, such as Arlo, but this plan bets that he can.
I move on from the entrance. I trot in the middle of the group, into the trees surrounding Morbal’s estate. We each keep our eyes open. My senses on high alert. I’ve practiced more on being able to control them in and out of wolf form.
After a few minutes, Russell says, This should be good.
I stop, and everyone spreads out from there.
Everyone is on edge as we wait.
The hope is that he’ll sense us and send someone out that we can capture and question. We don’t want a full-on battle yet. But we’re prepared if it turns out differently.
How long do you think it’ll take for him to sense us? I ask, sending my thoughts to Ash.
But it’s Foster who answers. Oops, still not good at projecting correctly.
He should already know, we’ve been in his territory for fifteen minutes.
My hackles rise. Well, that would’ve been nice to know earlier.
I scan through the trees around me. Everyone is hidden from my sight except for Ash. Ash paid a small fortune for the potions that dull the supernatural senses, as well as enchanted necklaces enabling us to communicate with Arlo’s pack in this form. It’s only me and Ash who didn’t take a potion with the hope that our presence will draw someone out and not an army.
There’s a shift in the air to my right, but when I look there doesn’t seem to be anything awry.
Lowering my head, I slowly crouch to inspect the area better.
Ellie? What is it? Ash asks, noticing my movement.
I’m not sure. It’s probably nothing.
I sniff the air and catch whiffs of lavender. My head tilts. I don’t remember noticing any lavender plants on the way here. Examining the ground, I don’t find any here either. Lifting my head and narrowing my eyes, I search the area, but nothing else seems off.
I’m overreacting, nothing seems amiss. I turn back around to go back to my spot.
My hair stands erect as the air shifts again, lavender and blood blooming in the air.
Just as I’m about to turn back around, hands grab me from behind and in the next instance my vision goes blurry.
Ellie, run. Ash’s panicked voice fills my mind before I’m engulfed in darkness.
This is supposed to be a quick in-and-out. Snatch one of Morbal’s lackeys, get answers and plan from there. But I can’t help thinking that something is off. We should’ve already been stopped this close to Morbal’s estate.
My eyes follow Ellie as she turns away from the spot she was examining. I’m not sure what she sensed, but I trust her to be cautious.
A breeze picks up just as there’s a shimmer in the air behind Ellie. A young woman appears in a ragged gown and grabs her. She has blood markings on her face and exposed arms, with metal bands on her wrist.
Ellie, run. I warn, as I rush toward her, panic filling me. But before I make it, another shimmer appears around them and they’re gone.
Just poofed into thin air, leaving only the smell of lavender, roses, and blood behind.
My legs shake as I search the area. Russell and Foster not far behind me.
How could this have happened? How did Morbal get a blood witch? Blood magic is illegal and a magic almost no one practices anymore.
I turn around and race toward Morbal’s estate. I need to save Ellie. I need to find my mate.
Someone barrels into my side, knocking me useless as their weight crushes me onto the ground.
Rage fills me. A snarl rips from my throat as I try to escape.
Ash. A growl enters my mind. It’s Foster’s. Looking up, I find him as a gray wolf hunched down in front of my face. Which means it can only be Russell who’s on top of me.
Get off me, I snarl.
Foster’s head tilts to the side. Are you going to go get yourself killed?
I growl.
Foster shifts back to a man, crouched down in front of me with a sigh on his lips. “Thought so.” His gaze shifts to Russell, still pressing his weight into me. “Contact Sophie.”
The four other lycans with us are standing around us, keeping an eye on our surroundings.
Foster runs a hand down his face and cusses up a storm. “What the bloody hell are we going to do?” he asks under his breath.
A whine escapes before I can stop it. His glowing green eyes meet mine.
“I care about her too, Ash,” he says. “We’ll figure something out, but I have to make sure we don’t also lose our alpha in the process.”
I can’t focus on anything right now, except the need to save Ellie. But I know he’s right. I need to get it together if we have any chance of getting her back.
“They won’t kill her,” Foster continues. “At least they gave us no indication they were going to. But you would sense it if she were killed.”
My body freezes as I search for my bond with her.
He’s right.
She’s still there. Unconscious, but okay.
At least for now.
Russell gets off as I shift back. My eyes blaze as I stare at them both. “Let’s start planning,” I say, my voice more animalistic than human. “I need my mate back.”
The smell of mildew is what I wake up to on a cold cobblestone ground—no longer a wolf. I’m in a thin, white gown over my underwear. Someone must have put it on me while I was unconscious.
My body screams at me as I roll onto my side and find a woman lying on the ground beside me, her chest heaving up and down. Long, tangled, ink-colored hair covers most of her face, but between the strands I can see that she’s unconscious with blood markings on her forehead and
a horizontal line of blood across her nose and cheeks.
I’m sure her gown used to be white like the one I’m wearing, but now it’s covered in a layer of grime with blood splatters, and the ends are frayed and torn.
Groaning, I try to sit up, but my arms give out under me. A scream forces its way out, my wrists flaring with pain. I collapse onto my back and hold my shaky arms up to find metal bands around my wrists.
With trembling fingers, I tentatively touch one of the bands to jerk it back as sharp daggers stab inside my wrist. It’s embedded deep into my skin. Tears stream down my face as I fight back another scream.
“Ellie?” a voice whispers, making me freeze.
I tilt my head up, peering around the room upside down. I’m in a cell near the bars and entrance. There’s a woman sitting in the back, chained to the cobblestone wall, her head hanging and her wrists bear the same bands as mine. Grimy strings of blonde hair cover her face. Her thin frame is covered in a similar filthy dress as the woman beside me. My head turns to the side to find bands on the black-haired woman as well.
Peering back up, I ask, “How—” I clear my throat when it comes out scratchy and try again. “H-How do you know my name?”
The woman struggles to lift her head, but when she does her emerald eyes clash with mine.
My heart stops.
My entire body frozen as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing.
This...this can’t be possible.
I’m imagining things.
She...she died.
“Mom?” I gasp out on a sob, my throat tight.
Her chin wobbles. “Oh, my Ellie.” Her voice is scratchy and frail.
Without using my arms, I roll onto my stomach, my entire body protesting. I try to get my feet under me, but my body is weak. My legs can’t hold me right now.
What happened when I was out?
I grit my teeth, holding back a scream, as I drag myself to her using my forearms and elbows.
I’m just barely able to prop myself on the wall beside her in a sitting position.
Breathing heavily, and with a trembling arm, I reach out, wanting to touch her. To make sure she’s actually real. My eyes meet hers before I make contact.
She gives me a wobbly smile and nods.
The skin of her arm is cold under my touch, but it’s solid. It’s real.
Mom. I want to hold her, to hug her, but with her chained and so frail, I’m more afraid of breaking her. Of losing her again after I just got her back.
“How is this possible?” I whisper, my mind swirling. I can’t seem to comprehend that she’s alive. “How...how are you alive? Is...is dad?”
She audibly swallows and gives me a small shake of her head.
Tears start anew. It’s like hearing he died for the first time all over again, but worse. It’s permanent.
“Ellie, baby,” she says, choking on a sob.
“W-what happened?” I ask, letting the tears flow as I stare at her, memorizing her features. Despite the layer of grime, and thin frame, it’s obvious it’s her. Her hair has always been more blonde than mine, and her eyes a bright green. She looks sickly now. Her cheeks are sunken in, and everywhere I look there’s nothing but skin and bones.
“Your father and I…on our way home, we stopped at a gas station.” A cough racks through her body, and my heart aches at how painful it sounds. Has she been here since her supposed death? “Your father heard their plans while he was filling up the car, but it was still too late. He got back in and tried to lose them, but they crashed into us.” She wheezes as another cough comes as she struggles to retell the memory. “There were too many of them, and they had help from stryxes. But when they realized the bite couldn’t paralyze me, they figured out what line I came from and decided to keep me as a prisoner.”
“But I don’t understand…the bite? The body?” Is being a descendant of the Elite really that important?
“I’m sorry I never got to explain before what you are, but it seems you already know the truth.” Her eyes beg me to understand, to forgive.
I give her a nod. “Yes, I know I’m a lycan now.”
She sighs, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “The Thornton line is immune to a stryx’s nerve toxins, and our blood is more potent because of ancestry.”
“The Elite,” I say, and she nods. I remember Ash mentioning stryxes had the ability to paralyze others, but it feels like it was ages ago.
Ash. Is he okay? What happened after I was taken? Are they safe or in the dungeon somewhere?
I shake my head. I can only focus on one thing right now. I’m...I’m sure he’s fine.
I swallow. “I’m still confused. They found your body.”
“Yes,” she says, her head straining to stay up. “They killed one of the lycans that attacked us, crushed her face and burned her fingers to make her unrecognizable.” She scowls. “It was easier for them to kill one of their own than it should’ve been.”
“And me?” I know now is probably not the time to get answers to all my burning questions, but I can’t help asking. It’s been so long.
“What do you mean?”
“Ash found my fake death certificate.”
“We knew about the disappearances and the killings, so we decided to take precautions.” A small smile forms on her mouth. “Ash?”
I clear my throat. “He’s my mate.”
Her eyes light up. “I’m so glad you found love.”
My chin wobbles. “Me too,” I whisper.
“Come here, honey.” I scoot until I can give her a makeshift hug, making sure I don’t hurt her or bump my wrists.
A moan from the other side of the room has me jerking away from my mom and sitting in front of her.
It’s the other woman. Was she the one that took me?
She sits up and looks around, her silver eyes glazed and full of panic.
“Wylla,” my mom says.
The woman, Wylla, blinks a few times until her gaze focuses on us. “Addison.”
“Yes, you’re okay. It’s only me and Ellie, my daughter.”
Wylla’s eyes zero in on me before guilt fills them. “I’m sorry.”
I’m not really sure what to make of Wylla. “You were the one who took me?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
“She was forced to by Morbal,” my mom says and another coughing fit hits her.
Wylla stands and rushes over to her, holding the end of her dress up. Now the blood splatter makes sense.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask Wylla, my chest tight with anxiety.
She glances at me as she kneels and wipes my mom’s mouth. “She’s dying. Even lycans need food and water after a while.”
A chill runs down my spine.
“Wylla,” my mom says. “People usually have some tact when they say things like that.”
Wylla frowns. “Right, sorry.”
My hands shake. “W-We have to get her out of here.”
“We can’t.”
I clench my jaw, glaring at her.
My mom sighs. “Forgive Wylla, she wasn’t always like this. What she means is that we can’t leave, not with these bands on.”
Lifting my arms up to examine them again, pain shoots through my wrist. A hiss passes my lips when I wiggle a finger. “What are they?”
“Wylla, please?” my mom asks, her voice strained as she lets her head hang once more.
“Of course.” Wylla sits beside me and shows her bands, black veiny marks spread out from them, reaching the blood marking on her forearms. “They are embedded into our skin to touch the essence in our blood. Morbal controls our shifts, essence, magic...everything that makes us lycans and witches.”
My gaze moves to hers. “So, you are a witch.”
She nods and lowers her arms. “I have barrier magic. I can also make potions.”
I blink. “How did you grab me and bring me here?”
“Blood magic,” she says, gesturing to the markings on her face and arms.
&nb
sp; “So you also have blood magic?” I ask, trying to piece everything together.
“No, I can do blood magic. No one can have it, but anyone can perform it if taught.”
“Okay. So what is barrier magic?”
“It’s—”
“Someone’s coming,” my mom whispers, and we go silent. I tune into my hearing. There are footsteps in the distance. Apparently the bands can’t control everything.
After a few minutes, when the footsteps subside, my mom sighs. “Just patrol, but I don’t think we have much longer.”
“We need to figure out a way to escape,” I whisper to them. There’s no way I’m staying in this dungeon. I’ve had enough of being trapped for one lifetime. “We need to think of a way to get these bands off of us.”
We sit in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, trying to figure out a way to get out of this, when Wylla says, “I may have a plan.”
When she doesn’t continue, I ask, “What is it?”
“Just follow my lead when they come and get us.”
“Sophie and Foster, you’re with me. Russell, you’ll stay with Arlo. I want you and Foster in your wolf forms to communicate just in case the necklaces stop working.” I scan the faces around me: my betas, delta, and leads—minus Kathy—along with Alice and those in leader positions in Arlo’s pack, including his son, Logan.
We’re surrounded by greenery off Morbal’s territory, but night has already fallen. All of us are relying only on our night vision to see. I look to Arlo on my left. “Would you like to add anything?”
“No, you summed it up nicely. You may be a new alpha, but you’re a natural at this.” He grips my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Glad I could be here to offer support. We’ll get your mate back.”
“Thank you.” I straighten. “Well, if there’s nothing else, we’re moving out.”
The circle disperses, each going to spread the plan. Alice leaves with Kathy’s second.
Sophie readjusts the gun on her belt as she makes her way to me. Lycans don’t normally carry weapons since they’re useless when we shift, but she’ll be one of the ones remaining human. Russell and Foster start stripping, leaving only their boxers and shift. Russell will be on standby with the rest of the pack and Arlo’s.
Saving Ellie (Lycans Book 1) Page 35