8. Rudy
Rudy
M idnight Creek College sprawled below Main Street, its campus a blend of modern buildings and restored historical structures. The supernatural studies department occupied Blackwood Hall, a gothic stone edifice that seemed more suited to an ancient European university than our small mountain town.
I kept my senses alert as we climbed the steps, tracking heartbeats and scents throughout the building. My wolf remained on high alert, protective instincts heightened since forming the mate bond with Elowen.
"His office is on the third floor," Elowen said, her determination flowing through our bond. "Charlotte says he's usually there before classes."
"You're sure about this?" I asked, not for the first time. Despite Rose's note mentioning Katz, distrust still coiled in my gut. I'd seen him at the quarry, handling the very crystals designed to drain witch power.
"I'm sure we need answers," Elowen replied, her steady pragmatism balancing my suspicion. "Whatever his role, he knows more than we do about what's happening to Rose."
We reached the third floor, following a corridor of carved wooden doors bearing professors' names in gold lettering. Oscar's corner office was distinguished by additional magical wards subtly worked into the doorframe—the kind designed to prevent eavesdropping.
Before we could knock, the door swung open.
"I was wondering when you two would come find me." Oscar stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed as usual. "Please, come in."
The office beyond matched the man—organized and tastefully decorated with supernatural artifacts and ancient texts. A massive desk dominated one wall, while comfortable seating near the windows suggested a space for longer discussions.
"We're here about Rose," I said.
"Of course you are." Oscar gestured to the seating area. "And about the blood magic corruption. And about the full moon ritual planned for tomorrow night. Please, sit."
We exchanged a glance, surprised by his forthright acknowledgment of the very issues we'd come to discuss.
"We saw you," Elowen said as we sat, keeping her voice steady despite the anger I could feel through our bond. "At the southern quarry. With Rose."
"Yes, I expected you might have." Oscar moved to a cabinet, retrieving an ancient-looking book bound in leather so dark it appeared almost black. "What you didn't see—couldn't see from your vantage point—was what I was actually doing."
"Which was?" I prompted, skepticism clear in my tone.
Oscar placed the book on the coffee table between us. Its cover bore no title, only a series of symbols that made my wolf instinctively recoil. Blood magic, old and powerful.
"Weakening the crystals," he said simply. "Altering their resonance patterns to diminish their channeling capacity. Small changes, undetectable to those who don't understand the deeper principles of blood magic. But enough to ensure the ritual won't achieve its intended purpose."
Elowen leaned forward, studying the book without touching it. "Rose's note said you know the truth. That you know what's really happening."
"Rose is a remarkable woman." Something like genuine admiration crossed Oscar's features. "Brilliant researcher, exceptional witch. She recognized the pattern long before anyone else—the systematic corruption of supernatural bonds across multiple communities."
"And you?" I couldn't keep the challenge from my voice. "What's your role in all this?"
Oscar's gaze shifted to me, assessing. "I've spent decades studying blood magic corruption. Not to use it—to counter it. To understand how natural supernatural bonds can be twisted and how to prevent that corruption from spreading."
"That doesn't explain why you're working with the people who kidnapped Rose," I pointed out.
"I'm not working with them. I'm infiltrating them." He sat finally, his movements precise and controlled. "When Rose discovered the pattern of corrupted pack bonds and missing witches, she contacted me. My research was well-known in certain academic circles, though not my... personal interest in the matter."
Through our bond, I felt Elowen analyzing his words, weighing them against Rose's notes and our observations. Her natural skepticism was balanced by her analytical approach, searching for the explanation that best fit all available facts.
"Rose's note mentioned a greater power behind the alpha," she said. "Someone controlling both the pack and the blood magic. Who is it?"
Oscar's expression darkened. "Not who. What." He opened the book carefully, revealing pages covered in sigils that seemed to writhe on the paper. "Blood magic this sophisticated doesn't originate with wolves or witches. It comes from somewhere older. Something that feeds on corrupted bonds."
"Something like what?" I pressed, growing impatient with his cryptic answers.
"There are entities," Oscar said carefully, "that exist in the spaces between realities. Beings that hunger for power derived from supernatural connections. They can't access our world directly, but they can influence those susceptible to promises of power."
"And the ritual tomorrow night?" Elowen asked.
"Is designed to open a doorway." Oscar turned a page, revealing a diagram nearly identical to the ritual circle we'd seen at the quarry. "Seven witches to channel power, nine wolves to direct it, one leader to control the flow. Enough corrupted energy to create a temporary breach between worlds."
The implications were staggering. Not just a power grab within the supernatural community, but something far more dangerous—a potential invasion from beyond our reality.
"Why are you telling us this?" I asked, still not ready to trust his apparent candor. "If you're infiltrating them, why risk your cover?"
"Because I need your help." Oscar closed the book, his expression grave. "Tomorrow night, I'll be in position to disrupt the ritual from within. But I can't free Rose and the other witches alone. The alpha and his enforcers will be watching me closely."
Elowen leaned forward. "You're proposing a coordinated effort. You sabotage the ritual while we extract the captives."
"Precisely." Oscar nodded. "I've already reached out to certain trustworthy faculty members, and Miss Evers has been invaluable in helping prepare countermeasures."
At the mention of Charlotte, I felt Elowen's surprise and concern. "Charlotte is involved in this?"
"Only peripherally. She's been researching protective magic with remarkable insight for a human." Oscar's tone softened slightly. "She doesn't know the full extent of what's happening, but she's helped develop spells that can temporarily neutralize blood magic effects."
I studied Oscar, trying to reconcile my instinctive distrust with the evidence before us. His explanation aligned with what we'd observed—his presence at the quarry, his examination of the crystals, his focus on blood magic research. But something still felt off, some aspect of him that didn't match his carefully constructed academic persona.
"Why should we trust you?" I asked directly. "You have access to blood magic knowledge that most academics would never touch. You've infiltrated a corrupted pack operation with suspicious ease. For all we know, you could be setting us up."
Instead of taking offense, Oscar smiled thinly. "Healthy skepticism. I'd expect nothing less from a wolf who's seen what blood magic did to his father's pack."
The casual reference to my past made me stiffen. Few people knew those details—Rose being one of them. Had she shared my history with Oscar?
"Rose trusted me," he continued, seemingly reading my thoughts. "Not blindly—she kept her own insurance policies. The note she left you being one of them." He gestured to Elowen's pocket where Rose's amulet rested. "But she understood that sometimes fighting corruption requires getting close enough to understand it. To counter it effectively."
Through our bond, I felt Elowen's decision forming—not blind trust, but calculated risk assessment. "What exactly do you need from us?"
Oscar unfolded a map of the southern quarry, marking key positions. "The ritual begins at moonrise. By then, I need you and whatever allies you can gather positioned here and here." He indicated entry points on the quarry's eastern edge. "The pack will be focused on the ritual circle. Most of the enforcers will be undergoing their transformation for participation."
"And Rose?" Elowen asked, her concern for her aunt uppermost in her mind.
"She and the other witches will be held here." Oscar pointed to the outbuilding we'd observed. "Spelled containment, but nothing that a witch of your lineage can't break."
The tactical analysis was sound. His knowledge of the security arrangements, the timing of the ritual, the specific magical vulnerabilities—all suggested legitimate inside access.
"I'll reach out to Lola," I said after a moment. "She can bring trustworthy wolves who've resisted the corruption."
"And I'll prepare breaking spells for the containment," Elowen added, committing to the plan despite her lingering reservations that I could sense through our bond.
Oscar nodded, appearing satisfied. "One more thing you should know." His expression grew more serious. "The alpha isn't acting entirely of his own will anymore. The corruption has... changed him. Made him more vessel than leader. When you encounter him, don't expect rational behavior."
"Meaning?" I prompted.
"Meaning he might sacrifice his entire pack to complete the ritual." Oscar's gaze was steady. "He's that far gone."
The warning hung heavy as we finalized details of the extraction plan.
As we prepared to leave, Oscar handed Elowen a small crystal vial containing a swirling silver substance. "For the witches, after you free them. It will help stabilize their magic after the drainage effects of captivity."
Elowen accepted it cautiously. "What is it?"
"A restorative I developed based on Rose's research into magical healing." His expression softened slightly. "She contributed significantly to the formula before her capture."
We left Blackwood Hall with more information but not necessarily more certainty. Oscar's explanation fit the facts we knew, aligned with Rose's cryptic note, and provided a plausible framework for what we'd observed. But something about him remained enigmatic, his motivations not fully transparent despite his apparent cooperation.
"What do you think?" Elowen asked as we crossed the campus, heading back toward the bookstore.
"His plan makes tactical sense," I admitted. "And the information about entities from beyond our reality explains the particular corruption signature I've been tracking. It's not just twisted blood magic—it's something foreign."
"But you still don't trust him," she observed, reading my emotions through our bond.
"There's something he's not telling us." I glanced back at Blackwood Hall, its gothic architecture suddenly seeming more ominous. "Something about himself."
"Rose trusted him enough to collaborate on blood magic research," Elowen reasoned. "And his actions at the quarry match his claim of sabotaging the ritual preparations."
"True. But that doesn't mean his agenda aligns completely with ours." I took her hand as we walked, drawing comfort from the physical connection. "We proceed with the plan, but with our own safeguards in place."
Through our bond, I felt her agreement—not blind trust in Oscar, but pragmatic acceptance of necessary alliance.
"I'll contact Charlotte, see what she knows about his research without revealing too much."
"And I'll reach out to Lola. We'll need at least six wolves to counter the pack enforcers not participating in the ritual."
By the time we reached the bookstore, a plan was taking shape—not just Oscar's extraction strategy, but our own contingencies, backup measures, and safety protocols. Working together through the mate bond created an efficiency I'd never experienced before, our thoughts complementing each other without needing to verbalize every detail.
Daisy was rearranging books when we entered, her ethereal form shimmering slightly in the morning light. "The mystery section is quite agitated today," she announced. "They sense approaching revelations but cannot agree on which secrets will remain hidden."
"Cryptic as always, Daisy," Elowen replied with unexpected fondness.
"Not cryptic. Precise." Daisy floated closer, her opal eyes swirling with unusual patterns. "Some mysteries are meant to unfold over time. Others reveal themselves only when necessary. The professor carries both kinds within him."
The observation aligned uncomfortably well with my own assessment of Oscar. "You know something about him," I realized. "Something beyond what he's told us."
"I know what the books know," Daisy replied serenely. "And they know that some beings cannot be fully understood through single chapters of their existence."
Then she wandered off again.
***
As night fell over Midnight Creek, Elowen and I sat together on the couch in the living room, the mate bond humming between us with newfound familiarity. Despite the circumstances of its formation, the connection had become a source of strength neither of us had anticipated.
Elowen curled into my side, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my forearm. "Do you think Oscar was telling the truth?" she asked softly, her voice laced with uncertainty.
I exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I think he believes it," I admitted. "And it fits the evidence. The corruption I've tracked has always felt... foreign. Unnatural even by supernatural standards."
She tilted her head up, her breath warm against my jaw. "And if he's right about the ritual opening a doorway?"
I turned toward her, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger along her cheek. "Then stopping it becomes even more critical. But we focus on what we know we can accomplish. Free Rose and the other witches. Disrupt the ritual. Deal with interdimensional entities if and when we have to."
She nodded, but tension still coiled in her muscles, her thoughts tangled with unspoken fears. Through the mate bond, I felt the storm inside her—the weight of responsibility, the worry, the sheer magnitude of what tomorrow would bring.
I slid a hand down her back, pulling her closer until she was straddling my lap, her hands braced against my chest. "Elowen," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion, with want. "Tonight, just let me take care of you."
Her breath hitched, her fingers gripping my shirt as her eyes locked onto mine. "Rudy—"
I caught her lips in a kiss, slow and deep, coaxing her to unravel against me. She melted into me, her body softening, yielding. My hands roamed down her waist, slipping beneath her shirt, reveling in the warmth of her skin. She shivered, her hips shifting instinctively against mine, and I groaned at the delicious friction.
I pulled away just enough to catch her gaze. "I want you, but I want it to be different," I said. "Not like last time. Not against a wall in an alley, stolen and desperate. I want to give you this. Properly."
Her lips parted, her pupils blown wide with desire. "Yes."
Without hesitation, I stood, lifting her effortlessly into my arms. She gasped, clinging to my shoulders, but there was no hesitation in the way she wrapped herself around me. I carried her through the apartment to her bedroom, my lips claiming hers again and again, each kiss filled with promise, with need, with everything I couldn't put into words.
I took my time stripping her bare, piece by piece, watching her unfold beneath me. She was so fucking beautiful, and I wanted her to know it, to feel it, to understand that she was mine in a way no magic could force.
When she reached for me, I caught her wrists, pinning them above her head. "Not yet, little witch," I murmured against her skin. "You don't touch me until I say."
Her breath hitched, but she didn't argue. Instead, she arched as I took my time exploring her body—trailing my mouth over her collarbone, teasing the sensitive peak of each breast with my tongue until she writhed beneath me, moaning my name. I wanted her trembling, undone before I even considered taking her.
My hand slid lower, fingers finding her slick and aching for me. I groaned, resting my forehead against hers as I teased her clit in slow, deliberate circles.
Her blue eyes darkened as I watched her. Then I slid down between her legs, pressing my lips to her sensitive core. Each flick of my tongue caused her to moan, pressing her thighs against me. She was my wonderful mate, and no matter what happened tomorrow, we had this moment.
She bucked against my touch, desperate for more, but I held her still, keeping her pinned beneath me as I worked her up, higher and higher.
"Rudy, please—" Her voice was breathless, desperate, and I knew she was close, teetering on the edge.
"Come for me," I commanded, my voice rough with need. "I want to feel you fall apart."
And she did. Her body clenched, shuddering as she cried out my name, her pleasure echoing through the mate bond, a wildfire of sensation that burned through both of us.
Only then did I slide into the bed with her. I lay on my back and guided her to straddle me. "Now you take me."
She hesitated, searching my face, understanding passing between us in a silent exchange. I was giving her control, giving her the choice. Not because I wasn't an alpha but because I was her alpha. Because we were partners, equals, and this was how I showed her.
She sank down onto me, taking me inch by inch, and fuck, I nearly lost it. But I let her set the pace, let her ride me, her fingers digging into my chest as she moved above me, as I watched her come undone all over again.
When she shattered a second time, I flipped her onto her back, driving into her with everything I had left. The words spilled out before I could stop them, raw and unguarded. "I love you."
Her breath caught, her fingers tangling in my hair. I felt the hesitation—a heartbeat of silence where the world seemed to hold still. Then, with quiet certainty, she whispered it back, soft but sure. "I love you, Rudy."
That was all it took. My release crashed over me, pulling her with me one last time, our mate bond sealing something deeper, something permanent between us.
As we lay there in the aftermath, tangled together in sweat and sheets and magic, I pressed a kiss to her temple. "No matter what happens tomorrow, we have this."
She curled against me, fingers tracing lazy patterns over my chest. "Yes. We do."
With that, I finally allowed myself to sleep, holding her close, knowing that whatever darkness waited for us at the ritual, we would face it together.