14. A Witchs Past
A Witch's Past
Eliza
S he should never have told Morgan she wanted to stay busy. The woman had told anyone and everyone that she was looking to be kept busy, so she was watching the ladies laugh as they pulled clean sheets from the creak. The water was clearer than anything she’d ever seen.
She hefted the heavy basket she held, filled with freshly cleaned pillowcases, up the slight slope to the three clothing hanging bars. Apparently, even with modern human conveniences, many of the older women still enjoyed washing their sheets in the creak and hanging them under the sun to dry.
She sighed heavily, and it was abundantly clear that she was weaker than the woman around her. If it wasn’t for the lightning spell she’d whispered, she’d already have tapped out, but the manual labor actually helped her think.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, looking down to where a few kids were playing in the water. They were dressed this time, which she was grateful for. The whole scene reminded her of a fairy tale novel.
The air was almost too sweat; she’d gotten accustomed to the air filled with the city's smog and smoke.
The continuous sound of early morning traffic that she used to wake up to wasn’t anywhere to be found. She’d spent so much of her life among a crowd of people who didn’t even know her name. Now men, who looked to be headed to do some building, with shovels and long pieces of wood, waved out to her with a hello.
Lowering her hand, she got to work grabbing one of the pillowcases. She held it out in front of her and gave it two hard shakes before she hung it on the bar above. She continued this till the entire basket was empty. She’d hoped to sneak away at some point, but she’d gotten too caught up with the camaraderie of the others.
Their joking and playful teasing of each other reminded her so much of the Shade that she felt her heart squeeze. She missed her friends and the people who’d changed her life in so many ways. She hugged herself; she wanted to be in her home and in her own bed.
“The books are gone.”
She turned her back to the women below, “Yes, what do we do now? Was it the only way to reverse the bonding spell?”
“There are other ways, but the host is likely to suffer more for it.”
She bit her lip, “Then can the caster be found? They never used—” She swallowed, as memories of being tied down to an iron table and having a small sheet of paper placed on her bellow and the sensation of black, red liquid being poured on her body. “The casting rings were always pre-written before they cast their spell.”
“We must go back once more and look; I was upset and did not explore the library fully. There are some books who would hide in the presence of those who are not their kind.”
She muttered, “Find, let’s do that.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and seeing that Morgan was busy, she quickly made her way to the forest edge. She had just reached it when Malcolm spotted her. Her long brown braid swung as she entered the forest once more.Confused, he quickly ran down, eager to catch up with her.
The wind was cool as it brushed her arms, and the crunch of leaves under her feet were a few of the sounds that followed her as she walked deeper into the woods. Her ears open for the sound of someone following her. Eliza hadn’t expected the woods to be so quiet.
The sound of the women’s laughter had faded away, and the dark wood was dense. The tree trunks were thicker than she’d ever seen them. As she walked along, she kept an eye out for any raised roots to avoid falling.
Hearing something like a branch crack, she whipped around. She rolled her wrist, a fiery ball of pure energy crackling in her hand. She narrowed her eyes, turning fully, she waited to see if anything moved, but nothing, not even the branches of the scattered bushes. After a beat of silence, she evaporated the ball and began her search once more.
Eventually she arrived at the edge of an empty clearing. “You said that the entrance was too far. Where is it, then?”
Her skin pebbled as a clear smoke escaped her body, twisting and forming into a female shape. “It’s here; the Anti-Barrier has a hole in it,” the figure said, lifting its hand. Light poured from it, slamming into the ground. As it spilled forth, it covered the ground around and beneath Eliza’s feet. Runic letters began to light up, with the magical circle slowly beginning to glow.
Watching the letters peel from the forest floor and fill the air. Eliza couldn’t help the fascination that took over her expression. She’d spent so much of her days pretending not to care that she didn’t have strong magic. It was at these moments, she wished she did.
When she felt its power and watched how it warped and changed the world so easily, the world wavered before her, as the light continued to brighten until suddenly, the entire place encompassed by the magic circle was plunged into darkness.
Her breath caught as the sun became the moon, and the wind became warm.
The figure, made of smoke, stood before her flesh in a red gown. Her pale skin was nearly luminous, and her black hair spilled around her shoulder like midnight liquid. Her red lips stretched as she glanced around before facing Eliza, “This place is where we came last night; during the day, it is hidden from the human and being’s eyes.” She turned around and walked over to the high stone that held a crude carving of a Celtic knot. “This world, and the others, have points of connection. I did not explain well last night; I took one of these points where the other worlds and this connect and made it my place of knowledge.” She lightly placed her hand on the stone and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. A flash of red occurred before she placed her hand against the stone . “No one should have found this place unless they were skilled in the lost tongue.”
Eliza moved over to her. “And how does that information help me? As you saw last night, someone’s taken everything.”
“Yes, but I can find out where the book is,” she said, as the stone boulder before them made a loud cracking sound as it slowly opened, spilling light onto them . “Let’s go.”
Eliza nodded, and together, the women entered the door, letting it fall close behind them.
Just as the door closed, a person entered the clearing.
Malcolm
“What are you doing?”
Malcolm blinked, looking around himself in confusion. He whipped around, his eyes searching the line of forest for Eliza. “I—I was searching for Eliza?”
Confused, his sister stared at him, “What are you talking about? You just said you were going back in to change, to speak with the council.”
Malcolm frowned at her, at a loss. He had every intention of finding Eliza and having her assess the sight of the crime. He’d been heading towards the woods, and now he was standing on the path to the gates to the cabins. He felt a spike of pain hit him; he grimaced as he released a hiss and pressed two fingers against his right temple.
“I-I—You’re right, I was.”
His sister smiled, clicking her tongue. “We haven’t been playing fair, just dumping everything on you. Uncle should have let you rest before he tried to saddle you with the title Alpha.”
He shook his head, giving his sister a look of annoyance. “I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind. I won’t lie and say it’s been easy, but your brother has dealt with worse,” he said this as he started walking back towards the castle. “This definitely isn’t the worst I’ve dealt with.” He didn’t add anything else after his words; he didn’t need to fill her with the tales of his not-so-sparkly life.
“I’m sure of it. I’ve heard the stories about the northern Veil, especially Veil City. Is it true that all kinds of beings live there? Like witches and demons?”
He gave a short nod. “Aye, Kelpies and wyverns, but…” He paused and looked over his shoulder at the sky in the distance, where he saw the tail end of a Pegasus. “Every Veil has its flying pest.”
His sister smirked. “Pest, indeed. When we were nothing but pups, you bragged about getting to ride a Pegasus?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, and you were more than ready to tease me about it.”
“Someone had to keep you from sneaking off and trying to ride one. You, being the wild child you were, would have given Mom a heart attack.” His sister teased.
She also added, “Mother told me to leave you alone because you were a dreamer, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that. I told her, if I didn’t tell you the truth, you’d try to ride one. She didn’t believe me.”
Malcolm couldn’t help the warm smile that came to his lips, when he thought about his childhood. “And then she caught me sneaking off to really ride one,” he said. “I wasn’t scared about being caught sneaking out.”
She side-eyed him. “You weren’t, then I wonder why you cried so much when caught?”
He sighed. “I took the food mom had prepared for some get-together with her friends.”
“Ah,” she said before bursting into laughter. “So that's why.”
“I don’t think I ever could look at macaroni the same again.” Malcolm shook his head, his expression losing its humor. “It’s weird; when Robert said she was dead, a part of me felt like I already knew.”
His sister's eyes turned sad, and she lowered her eyes. “Yeah, I think she died happier than when she lived here,” she said, her tone wistful. “A part of me wishes she’d stayed, but after hearing the truth about why she left, I understood. Then I suddenly wasn’t so angry about it anymore.”
“Yeah,” Malcolm said before he gave a stiff nod and returned to his house, leaving his sister behind. He wanted to be able to fulfill the expectations his sister had in him, but for some reason, he felt oddly anxious, and he couldn’t pinpoint why t
It felt as if there was something simmering beneath the surface waiting to come out, but he wasn’t sure what exactly that thing was, only that it was close. His nose twitched as he paused right before the steps and glanced over his shoulder at the forest. Staring at it for a minute, he finally turned away and shook his head.
Maybe he was overthinking it. He had one clear mission: find whoever was behind the werewolves' disappearances, and then he could get on with his life. With that, he continued towards his room to change.
“Alpha Robert, why have you brought your nephew before us?”
One of the elders demanded from where they were set in a semi-circle around the fire that blazed in the center of the floor. Their bodies were in the traditional cloak of bear skin, and they were wearing their plaid, with a differing shirt. Some had braies on, while others sported bare legs. The room they sat in was circular and carved out from the high mountain a mile away from the main compound.
Only males were allowed within; the large chamber held back to their Celtic roots. When Malcolm was young, and his father had brought him here, he’d sworn he could hear the whisperings of his ancestors in the large hall. Their roots were strong here, and he could feel the wild beast in him closer. The elders often congregated there to talk over important issues; as a child, Malcolm had hidden within the shadows, listening to the old, grizzled man tell each other stories from the past.
Now he stood before them, holding his chin up. He refused to feel shame before the group who’d allowed Damon to become Pack Alpha when the male had clearly been a bad Alpha.
His uncle spoke from where he sat in the center. “Like I told you, Kirkle, he’s come to accept my mantel to lead.”
Kirkle's brown eyes were beady as he squinted at his uncle. “I’ve heard rumors of this, but why does your nephew have rights over the other males?” He turned his narrow eyes to Malcolm. “You ran from your people and this land, and now you’re a dog for the very council who locked us up here. How can you be a true Alpha to your own people?”
Robert didn’t speak up for Malcolm; he reached down by his side, picked up a long stick, and began tapping the wood in the center, so sparks flew.
“He has as much right as any other werewolf who comes here looking to take Robert’s place,” an older male spoke up from where he sat near the exit. “He left the lands after you and his father branded him a traitor.” He glared at the others, who shifted uncomfortably at his words. “A traitor, when he did the one thing none of you were willing to do, which was take out the trash.”
“You say that Craig, you're forgetting who made his winning easy,” Kirkle said, glancing at Malcolm's uncle. “His own father turned against him. Why would you expect us to do anything about it?”
“That’s true; his own father did turn on him,” Robert said with a heavy sigh. He looked up, eyeing the man there. “But you all know why he had to do it. If he hadn’t done it, he would have been marked a dead man by Damon and those who supported him.” He shook his head, “I would much rather my nephew be safe and away from here.”
“Yet, now you are asking us to accept him?” one of the others complained, his blue eyes glittering in the dark. Malcolm eyed him; it was his first time seeing the man. “Alpha Robert, it seems to me you're more like Damon than you think.”
“If you don’t approve, I am more than willing to fight for my place again,” Malcolm said. All six of the elders turned their attention to him. “I don’t fear fighting for what is mine.”
“Arrogance is what brought you grief the first time,” Kirkle said nastily. “It would be a shame if that same arrogance damns your uncle's good intentions.”’
Malcolm gaze measured him. “It’s not arrogance, but knowing. I am not that weak boy from all those years ago. Since my uncle has already given his order. I will prove my worth at the a -sgeithe festival. Bring forth your best challengers, and I will defeat them and take what’s rightfully mine.”
“Malcolm, you don’t have to.”
Malcolm raised his hand, cutting off his Roberts words.
“I don’t need your worry,” he said, his tone harsh. “In a few days, bring your top choices to me, and I’ll squash any doubt that you have about me becoming leader here.” Malcolm had no intention of staying after his investigation was over, but he wasn’t going to let just anyone take his place. He owed his uncle that much as well as the other McLarens. These people had welcomed him on his return, and his uncle had already explained himself.
He would have a tough time completely forgiving him, but he wouldn’t let the others suffer for the arrogance of a single man.
Kirkle stood, his lips twisting into a sneer. “Then I will see you there, puppy.” He gave a short nod to the others before marching out, followed by a few others, including the odd blue-eyed male.
“You provoked them.” Roberts words drew Malcolm’s attention, and he scoffed. “They don’t want me to be the Alpha, so there wasn’t any point in kissing their asses.”
Robert nodded. “True, they have a wish for Eric’s brother Donald to take the mantle, but that guy stinks of liquor most times and spends more time whoring around in the human world than here.”
Malcolm's brow wrinkled. “They want a puppet, not a leader.”
“Yep,” Robert agreed as he rose to his feet. “These men want to reverse everything back to what it used to be. I’m sure they miss the money they used to get from ignoring the selling of their own kind.”
“Money?” Malcolm shook his head, a look of disgust coming to his face. “They’re nothing more than greedy worms; It’s a shame we just can’t kill them all off.”
“I wanted to, but it’s hard explaining so many deaths,” his uncle said as he walked to his side. “Do you want to see the mines?”
Malcolm gave a short nod. “Are they still thriving?’
Robert smirked. “Sure are, and as usual, we’ve ignored the council's attempts to have us sell it to them.”
Malcolm laughed as he followed him out. As they made their way back up the steps towards the top of the mountain, he paused when a familiar scent tickled his nose, and he found his steps lengthening. He passed his uncle, and he spotted her just as he arrived at the top step.
She was walking with a basket filled with what looked like weeds, and her nose was wrinkled as she listened to the cook next to her. The woman pointed out different things in the basket. “We try to stick to the cooking ways of the old. One never knows when a random Magic wave will knock out all the human conveniences.”
“That’s cool,” Eliza said as she walked side by side with the cook, the two seemingly headed back to the compound. “I’ve always dabbled in cooking but was never able to commit a hundred percent to it.”
“Eliza,” he called to her, and as if she could read his mind. She looked away from the basket and turned around and spotted him immediately. Malcolm couldn’t lie to himself; when their eyes met, he wanted to go to her, scoop her up, and leave. He loved how her eyes brightened the minute she saw him and how she seemed just as ready to run to him as he was to her. Her lashes fluttered as if she was catching herself.
“I was wondering what you were doing to keep yourself busy,” he said walking towards her.
“Well, as you can see, I’m learning how to cook a bit,” she said, lifting her basket slightly. “And then I’m planning on helping Morgan rearrange the furniture in her cabin.”
Malcolm couldn’t hate that she was getting close to the women of his Pack. He didn’t care what she did as long as she was happy. “I’ll need your help at the place the teens were taken from. I want to know if you can pinpoint where they were transported to.”
“Sure,” she added, her expression serious. “I can’t be a hundred percent right with my casting, but I can at least try.”
“I’ll change back into normal clothes, and then we can go.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “But are you sure you want to change? I was kind of digging the whole John Snow look.”
Smirking, he leaned down, letting his lips settle near her ear. “I know, you don’t mean to, but if you don’t stop looking at me that way, I will pick you up and run with you back to the cabin. And prove I am better than this John whoever you're talking about.” When he drew back, her cheeks were flushed, and her gaze was averted.
His cocky smirk widened into a full-on grin.
Eliza, flustered, quickly retreated.
He watched her go, his eyes zeroing in on the sway of her hips.
“When will you claim her? Before or after you win the title of Alpha?”
Roberts words pulled his attention away from Eliza to him, releasing a sigh Malcolm answered, “I can’t say, she’s much more complicated than she looks.”
“What? Don’t most witches know about mating?” Robert asked.
“No, it's not her being a witch that’s the problem; it's her past,” he said, losing his humor. He lay awake at night, imagining the face of the enemy who’d taken Eliza, and harmed her till she was afraid to sleep without the lights on. “I have not shown her my true face for this reason.”
“Your true face?” his uncle repeated blankly.
Malcolm turned around, facing Robert. “I am being the man she wants—no, needs now. Her mental state is fragile, and I know this well. I will remain her friend till she sees me as a man. Till then, I won’t show her the face of the man who’s done everything he could to survive this long.”
Roberts eyes dug into him, before he gave a short nod. “I understand.”
His point made, Malcolm decided to leave, no longer interested in the mines. Malcolm’s first instinct with much of his life had been to dominate and destroy everything that was an obstacle in his way. He’d learned this way of living from the best. He to admit it, but Madame La had taught him the importance of words and having more than one face.
So far, nothing had pushed the beast that stirred under his skin up. Learning the truth about his mother and father's relationship had stirred some of his anger, but not too much.
The bone-deep hunger in him for violence had been held down since he’d found Eliza. Even now he could feel it stir up when she wasn’t in the vicinity, her comforting scent kept his irritation at bay. And after just seeing her, he was itching to find her again.
The darkness inside of him still hovered in the air; he knew he would have to expose it to her at some point, but he wanted to hold back as long as possible.
Monsters had broken his mate, and he feared more than anything she’d run at the mere hint of his own.
He paused at the door to his cabin, lifted his hand, and watched as his claws slowly extended, the yellowish claws curved. Evaluating his hand, after a minute he let the claws retract and walked into the cabin. Pulling the cloak off and tossing it on the bed, he’d become the laird, but he feared most the feeling of rightness that invaded the longer he stayed.
The mention of the challenge had made his blood rush. He was eager to prove his strength. Did he, or didn’t he, wish to take the role of Alpha?
He didn’t.
He didn’t deserve it.
After so many years of playing the role of cruel enforcer, he only understood violence and death. His prowess at dispatching the enemy had made him a Jackal. He only hid it better than the others.
Rober had stood aside as he was banished to protect him. But if he learned about Malcolm's true nature, would he not banish him to protect his people?
Sighing, Malcolm met his dark gaze in the mirror and watched the skin of his chin move and shift.
Lifting a hand, he placed a hand against his cheek. “You’ll do your duty, and that’s all,” he said aloud to himself before turning away from himself and entering the bathroom.