2. Michael
CHAPTER TWO
MICHAEL
I peered out of my cage, unsure of what was happening. There was movement in the coven.
Witches and warlocks were snapping at each other, grabbing tools, and shoving them into bags.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about me. I wanted to scream at someone, but the last time I spoke without permission...there had been dire consequences.
I pictured myself alone in this empty, creepy house, rotting away in this cage while the rest of the world moved on, my skeleton only discovered by some hunter who stumbled in here by accident. I shuddered.
"Hey," I said, grabbing at the leg of the nearest warlock.
He looked haggard but still managed to stare at my dirty hand in disgust.
This particular coven viewed captive shifters like me as no better than animals, only useful as long as we could serve as their familiars.
"What's happening?" I asked as he pulled his leg from my fingers.
He looked at me like I was a foreign specimen at a zoo, then left without answering. Frustration welled in my chest.
I looked over at the other two cages in the basement.
They were empty now, save for scraps of cloth and bits of hair, but I could still picture the haunted faces of the original inhabitants.
The fact that I never saw them again led me to conclude that the coven used them in some kind of foul curse or spell until nothing remained of them.
These black witches and warlocks siphoned our life forces whenever they cast a spell.
The only reason I was still alive was because the leader of this coven considered me her special project.
I shuddered, thinking about Liliana Payne, her long black-tipped nails touching my face. Liliana, touching my hair like I was her favorite pet.
"You’re special, Michael. I can’t bring myself to get rid of you just yet," she would say each time I begged her to kill me.
The memory of her voice, dripping with mock affection, sent a chill down my spine. She relished in my despair, feeding off it as much as she fed off my life force.
Her eyes, cold and calculating, would light up with a twisted kind of joy whenever I showed the slightest hint of resistance.
She thrived on it, and I had learned to mask my emotions, to hide the fury and fear that raged within me. But every now and then, I would slip, and she would be there, ready to exploit my weakness.
I glanced at the scraps of cloth and bits of hair once more. The faces of those who had once occupied those cages haunted me.
They had been reduced to nothing more than magical fodder.
I was determined not to share their fate. I couldn’t let Liliana break me, no matter how hard she tried.
I would endure her cruel games and twisted experiments, biding my time until I could find a way to escape this nightmare.
The house above was a hive of frantic activity, the coven preparing for something big. I had to believe that my chance would come.
My ears perked up, trying to catch snippets of the conversation.
Words like “raid” and “escape” floated down to me, sending a shiver of both hope and dread through my body.
Were they preparing for an attack? Or were they abandoning ship, leaving me behind to rot?
Desperation clawed at my insides. I couldn’t afford to be left behind. This was it, I realized. My only chance for escape.
My eyes darted around the dimly lit basement, searching for something that could help. The chains binding my wrists clinked softly as I moved.
My gaze landed on a small, rusted nail protruding from the wooden floorboard just outside my cage. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Carefully, I stretched my arm through the bars, fingers straining to reach the nail. The cold metal scraped against my skin, but I ignored the discomfort, focusing on my goal.
I managed to hook the nail with the tip of my finger, slowly dragging it closer. My heart pounded in my chest as I finally grasped it, pulling it into the cage.
With trembling hands, I began working on the lock. It was a long shot, but I had to try. The voices upstairs grew louder, more frantic. Time was running out.
Sweat dripped down my forehead, mixing with the grime on my face. The nail was flimsy, bending under pressure, but I kept at it, driven by sheer determination.
Suddenly, the lock clicked open. I stared at it in disbelief for a moment before reality set in.
I pushed the cage door open, the creak of the hinges loud in the otherwise tense silence. I stepped out cautiously, my legs wobbly from disuse. I had to move fast.
I couldn’t afford to be caught now. I crept toward the basement stairs, every step feeling like a small victory.
As I ascended, the voices became clearer. They were talking about an imminent attack, a raid by dragons?
I’d never seen a dragon shifter, although my dad used to tell me they existed. He’d seen one fly over his head while he and his dad hunted in the woods.
My dad…I hadn’t thought about him in ages, but now the memories flooded back. Five years ago, we went out to eat at the local diner to celebrate my high school graduation.
I had taken a cigarette break in the alley at the back of the diner, nervous about telling my dad my future plans—about not going to college and finding a job in the city.
Those worries seemed so surreal now. The eighteen-year-old me could never have imagined being taken captive by a black magic coven.
Focus on the present, I reminded myself. The voices upstairs grew more aggravated. My heart soared.
This was my chance. I had to get to these dragons, let them know I was here. The stairs creaked under my weight, each sound echoing like a gunshot in the stillness of the basement.
I paused, holding my breath, waiting for someone to notice, but the commotion upstairs masked my movements.
I continued upward, my mind racing with thoughts of escape and freedom.
As I reached the top of the stairs, the voices became distinct. They were arguing, panic evident in their tones. The mention of dragons was causing a stir.
I peeked through the slightly ajar door, seeing witches and warlocks scrambling, their faces pale with fear.
I slipped through the door, hugging the walls, staying in the shadows. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering light casting eerie shadows on the walls.
My heart pounded in my chest as I navigated the maze of corridors, the sounds of panic growing louder with each step.
I turned a corner and nearly collided with a warlock carrying a bundle of books. He looked right through me, his mind too occupied to register my presence.
I held my breath and pressed myself against the wall, waiting for him to pass. He muttered curses under his breath, the books nearly slipping from his grasp as he hurried by.
I continued, my pulse racing. The front door was just ahead, slightly ajar. Beyond it, I could hear the sounds of a battle raging.
Roars and shouts filled the air, mingling with the crackle of fire and the crash of spells. I pushed the door open and stepped into the chaos.
"Where do you think you're going, familiar?" someone demanded.
I turned, horrified to see one of Liliana's sister witches ready to fling a ball of writhing black mist at me. Helena.
She was in command of the coven whenever Liliana wasn't there, and she enjoyed toying with the familiars when she was bored.
"Help me," I thought desperately to my inner fox, but it was a futile attempt.
As the weeks turned to months, I could barely hear him. My fox had found a hidey-hole inside me and refused to come out.
In some ways, I was angry at him for leaving me alone to my despair. I couldn't rely on him now. Perhaps never. At this point, I was no better than a human.
Was this my end, then? I raised my head and looked at the starry sky instead, struck by how gorgeous it was.
It had been a long time since I had seen the outside. At least I would die out here and not in the basement.
A shriek tore me away from my peaceful moment. I looked at where Helena was standing and sucked in a breath as I watched her burn.
Flames licked up her body, her screams piercing the night. Wide-eyed, I looked upwards, hearing the sound of heavy wings.
A nearby tree was lit on fire by a breath attack, the flames illuminating the chaos below. Instinct made me take cover, ducking behind a large rock.
From my hiding spot, I watched a massive black dragon swoop down, his scales shimmering in the firelight.
He bellowed flame at the coven house and I was close enough to see his eyes glowing like molten gold.
The sight was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. I could see grizzly shifters joining the fray, their roars and howls mingling with the dragons' cries.
Helena’s charred form lay crumpled on the ground, her life extinguished in a flash of dragon fire. By some miracle, I was still alive.
Hope wasn’t lost yet. I had to make it to safety.
I wasn’t naive enough to believe I could approach the grizzly shifters or the terrifying dragons for help.
They came here on an extermination mission and probably didn’t care about casualties.Summoning all the courage I had left, I darted from my hiding place, weaving through the chaos.
The witches and warlocks were too distracted, saving themselves to notice me.
As I ran, one thought lingered in my mind. Liliana wasn’t here. She had left this morning to visit an old friend, or so she claimed.
I knew this because she dropped by the basement before she left.
“Don’t die on me now, Michael. You have a role to play,” she had said. “But remember, you belong to me.”
This morning, I had been too tired and hungry to pay attention to her words, but now, I reconsidered them. What had she meant by that?
Had Liliana known an attack was coming? No, that couldn’t be.
She wouldn’t sacrifice Helena, who she viewed as family, or the other members of the coven to save herself, would she?
I was so distracted I bumped into a bearded man holding a shotgun. A grizzly shifter, I realized, panicked as we looked at each other for a few moments.
I didn’t hesitate. I bolted in the opposite direction.
“Hey, wait!” he yelled behind me, but I didn’t listen.
I sucked in a breath, expecting a gunshot any second, but it never came. Blindly, I ran, with no direction in mind.
I entered a forest clearing and realized I was exposed. The initial adrenaline I felt from my successful escape was fast fading.
I was lost, tired, and ready to drop dead at any moment.
Then, out of nowhere, an enormous shadow fell over me. I stumbled backward, only to see the same black dragon I spotted earlier drop down in front of me, blocking my way.
I panted, staring at him and wondering if this was the end.
"He's not your enemy," whispered a strange voice inside of me.
It took me a few seconds to realize it was my fox. He hadn't spoken to me in years and yet...why had he reached out to me now?
I swallowed, facing the dragon, and waited for what he would do next.
Running away wouldn't work because he could simply catch me in his claws—his massively sharp claws—without trouble.
I didn't know what possessed me to utter the next words: "Um...hello? If you have no intentions of eating me, can you let me go?"