23. A Dangerous Game
A Dangerous Game
Eliza
T he minute Eliza woke up, she knew something must’ve happened. The room she was in wasn’t as big as the log cabin she’d decided to share with Morgan and Lilly. She winced as she felt her head throbbing; her body felt like a truck had slammed into it. Pushing up, she looked around the room and quickly realized just whose cabin she was in.
She’d seen it last night when Malcolm had summoned her to send his man to the Dougal land. She groaned, only to grimace at the sharp stab of pain that radiated up her spine. Not bothering to move, she turned her head to look out the window that’s curtain had been rolled up. She could see a few people milling about while others seemed to be speaking seriously about something.
The door opened, and she turned her head just in time to watch Malcolm enter with a platter in his hands. He strolled in, placed it on the table, and spotted her. “You’re awake.”
“It would seem so.”
He smiled, and she couldn’t help offering him one of her own. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep; the healer here isn’t accustomed to dealing with witches.”
She frowned, deciding that though she wanted to remain lying, she would be disadvantaged if she didn’t get up. Malcolm came to her side as she went to move, saying, “Wait, I’ll help you.”
While she wanted to stop him, she wasn’t going to. Her body was too exhausted; as she looked at her symptoms, she knew she’d overexerted her magic. Most witches would pass out before they hit such a breaking point and usually stayed in a coma for a few days afterward. Waking up the day after with only aching muscles was a miracle.
She let Malcolm lift her. He grabbed a few pillows from the other side and stuffed them behind her back. “I didn’t know when you would wake up, so I had Morgan make a plate for you.”
He moved away, grabbed the food tray, and brought it to her side. “It’s just cheese, bread, and fruit. Most of us are eating light before the first feast.”
She looked from the food selection to Malcolm’s face. “No one.” She paused, searching for the words. She swallowed. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”
He paused with his hand over the knife on the trey. “No,” he continued, picking up the knife. “No one was hurt, but this has caused some worry from those who have little trust in witches.”
She scoffed. “I’m not exactly the perfect example of our kind,” she said, looking at her pale-colored hand. “I could only make their impression worse.”
“No, don’t say that,” Malcolm said, his voice hard. “It’s not your fault what happened to you.”
“But I’m the one who is left to take responsibility.”
He frowned; she ignored the pull in her arms to reach out and cover his hand with hers. “I’m not sad or hurt. I came here with my problems and made great friends, so if a few people don’t like me. It’s not the end of the world.”
His expression softened. “You’re too kind.”
Surprised, Eliza laughed. “Well, that’s the first time I’ve been called that.”
“You could hate them and choose to leave here,” he insisted as he grabbed the brown loaf and began cutting a piece off. “But you don’t; I’m sure you could eliminate them and their thoughts.”
“I have power, but it’s not something I was born with.” Eliza looked at her hand, opening and closing it. “I don’t think about it as easily as you do; it’s something like a curse that’s been placed on me. I was a dub witch with only enough magic to create a seal or a talisman. Yet here I am with power that could shake mountains and wipe out a city.” She dropped her hand, staring ahead. “I don’t know if it’s being kind or just not being accustomed to being this strong.”
“Here.” She blinked as he shoved a piece of toast with a thick slab of butter in her face. “Eat, and then we will contemplate whether you are kind.”
She laughed, taking the bread. “Yes, sir.” Taking a bite, she hummed as she always did when she ate.
He watched her with heavy eyes. As she took another bite, she felt her strength return. “I only have one question now.”
“Yes?” she said, licking butter from her finger.
“Did something happen before you returned to Morgan’s cabin?” His green eyes stared into hers, waiting for an answer.
A flash of red hair appeared in her mind’s eye. Eliza's chewing slowed as she wondered whether she should tell Malcolm about the strange man. Something told her she shouldn’t, not when he held a key to her past.
“Do you know my friend…Phen.”
“I can’t remember,” she whispered. She didn’t want to involve him in her problems. She’d deal with him herself. Malcolm had enough on his plate already. “I remember going to your cabin and then leaving. The next thing I can recall is feeling horrible as I entered the bathroom, and from there, nothing.”
He watched her for a minute before he gave a short nod and stood. “I’ll tell Lilly and Morgan they can see you.”
“Malcolm?”
He stopped and looked down at her.
“Yes?”
“You know I would tell you if I remembered, right.” She even sounded like she was pleading to her own ears.
He nodded, turned to face her fully, and, slightly bending, pressed his lips to her forehead.
Turning around fully, he walked over to her, bent at the waist, and pressed his cool lips to her forehead. “I know.”
Straightening, he cupped her cheek, gave her another heavy look, and turned and left.
As she watched him go, a part of her felt he knew she was lying. But she couldn’t tell him the truth. She knew she was selfish, but if he knew, he’d put himself up against an enemy she knew was ruthless and could expose her secrets. Eliza didn’t want to see Malcolm look at her with disgust; the thought made her nauseous.
The witch who’d been worthless to others was now a monster. She looked in the mirror. Reaching up, she pressed a hand to her face. She didn’t even look the same anymore.
“You’re my greatest creation.”
A cold hand on her skin drew her closer to Phen, who watched her with greedy eyes. The nurse pulled her along as she shakenly walked towards the lead expert.
He placed his clipboard aside and walked towards her. “I made you beautiful and powerful; you are a perfect replica of what his lordship wishes for.” He reached out, pulling a piece of her hair to his lips. “After a few more tests, you’ll be perfect for his cause, and my vision will be made real.” Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her cold cheek.
Drawing back, the sick love in his eyes was fully exposed to her. “Isn’t that right, Eliza?” he paused and shook his head with a chuckle. “No, you’re not her anymore. You are more than that trash witch. You are my Muse…My masterpiece.”
The sound of children’s laughter outside brought her back to the present. She closed her eyes, trying to center herself. Her secrets were building, and she needed to figure out how much that male knew about her. She couldn’t let this place that had become her oasis be destroyed.
Eliza refused to lose her safe haven or…Malcolm.
Pain flared at the thought of losing him, and she could hardly hold back the sob that escaped her. She covered her face, why couldn’t she have met him before this? Before, she’d become nothing more than a doll for a megalomaniac.
The world's weight was on her soul, and she only wanted to return to the carefree days of working at the Shade with other witches. She looked at the food, and finally she picked up a grape. Taking a bite, she tasted the sweetness that filled her mouth. But she could also detect a small bit of bitterness. She didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her eyes as they fell silently.
Malcolm
Malcolm knew Eliza was lying to him, but he wasn’t sure why.
Ever since the day she’d awoken in his apartment, he knew she had secrets that would take time for her to reveal to him. Even now, she rarely offered up any information about her past, especially when it came to the ones who’d kidnapped her and experimented on her. Malcolm took it as a blessing when she started sharing her childhood and general past with him.
He wanted to know more about her.
But he would be patient or as patient as possible, knowing that Tiller would soon arrive. He’d bet on the bad relationship between his people and the Council to bring that cunning fox to his door. The way the two typically ran each other mad with bureaucracy was well-known.
He’d been getting updates from his Lykan connections in Veil City; so far, they’d continued in their messages of no disturbances.
He glanced at the sky; the moon was clear even in daylight. Tonight, it would change to blue. The beast within would run wild, and single males and females would flaunt their wolfen figures, searching out their mates in the night and hoping for the blessing of finding their other half.
Those who were already mated would leave their children with the elder females and attempt to create another life to add to their family. The world would sing on the back of their goddess.
“Alpha?” He turned away from the sight of the moon to face the Speaker.
“Yes, Agun.”
The male motioned to the tent with smoke coming from the center. “The Aldermen say they are ready to speak about the challenge.”
He looked down at his clothes. He wore only a linen shirt and jeans. Like the others, he wore normal clothes, but if he were to meet with the Alderman, they would demand that he wear traditional clothing. Looking back at Agun, he said, “I’ll change before I meet them. Tell them it’ll only be a few minutes.”
Agun gave a short nod before running off to do as he ordered
Facing his lodge, he felt slightly reluctant to return, but he pushed away that hesitation and returned to the cabin. When he entered, he immediately smelled the salt and looked at the woman who hadn’t moved from the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. He walked over to her, immediately spotting the tear tracks on her face.
He walked over to her side and touched her clenched fist. The trey was gone, she’d set it on the other side of the bed.
He took in her soft lips and slightly tipped-up nose. Freckles scattered across it, and thick lashes graced her cheeks. This was the face that he could never compare to another’s.
The intensity of desire varied from one mate to another, but for him, she was the beginning and end of his life; she was the essence of his soul personified. Everything about her was the ‘good’ in him that he’d lost at some point in his life.
The world was a dark place, and in the cracks of the beautiful picture of Veil City, he had seen true evil. The dirty filth that tainted his sight had stained his fur, and he'd found her when he’d felt himself falling deeper into its grasp.
The road to keeping her was long, and he’d have to go toe-to-toe with the men he’d built friendships with. Raijin and the others worked for Tiller, and he knew that greedy fox wouldn’t allow him to remain here with his people and the only live sample from the lab.
He’d betrayed his vow and could feel the time running out. Soon, they’d be at his door demanding answers.
Still, he wouldn’t turn his back on her. He’d forsake his people and his vow once more to protect her and keep her safe.
Removing his hand, he focused on preparing for this meeting with the Dougles Alpha. The man he’d sent had returned with disturbing news, and he wasn’t sure how he’d share it, but it would assist him in his talks with the Aldermen.
It proved just how far his soul had fallen that the murder of an entire clan wasn’t something to panic about. No, it was a good thing to use in order to see his own people left alone and protected, and he didn’t feel guilty using it to his advantage.
“Your demand for a ‘Blood price’ is a bit much, don’t you think? Especially when Alpha Malcolm claims not to know you,” Herald groused. He was an Alderman who’d reached the age of 95 with a healthy body and grim features. The wrinkles around his eyes were the only elderly thing about him. He placed a hand on his knees, eyeing the red-headed male who’d shared his name. “Do you truly intend to continue with this?”
Malcolm watched Beliel, who’d entered with two others. The two behind him barely spoke, keeping to the corner. He could see they were werewolves by the blue tattoos on their bodies, but their scent was off-putting. Their faces held little to no emotion.
“Ha, I’ve been thinking long and hard over this issue,” Beliel said as he sat with his legs outstretched and arms crossed. He wore an arrogant smile. “Whether Alpha Malcolm remembers his offense or not, I still demand the blood price,” he said, almost mockingly shooting Malcolm a sly look from beneath his lashes. “After he is beaten till he can barely breathe, I will tell him why he owes me a blood price.”
Malcolm gave him no attention; instead, he was occupied with stirring the burning firewood. He didn’t respond right away.
“And Alpha Malcolm, what is it you wish to do?”
This question didn’t come from Herald but Fingal, who sat closest to the right. His hands curled inside leather gloves, and his cloak was heavy and white.
As the oldest, he’d just celebrated his 103rd birthday. Grizzled brows lowered over dark brown eyes. “You have denied any knowledge of committing acts that would deserve such a challenge.”
“That’s true; I don’t recall crossing him, but-.” Malcolm finally spoke up, placing the iron rod down next to him. “If he insists on fighting, I will not object. Only a blood price always comes with another prize. What else do you wish for?”
The atmosphere grew tense after he spoke.
Beliel grinned. “Well, I can only think of one thing, and that’s after your death, your mate would be awfully lonely.”
Malcolm didn’t move, not a muscle, but he could smell the blood lust spilling from him.
The men didn’t seem phased compared to the Aldermen who’d lost color at Beliel’s dishonorable demand.
“I’ll take her as my price,” Beliel insisted.
“What?” Robert stood, his eyes narrow with anger. “You dare?”
Beliel grinned. “What? I can’t?”
“You can, but,” one of the other men started, lifting a hand to stop Roberts's attempt to step forward.
Malcolm recognized him as a newer Alderman. The leather around his arm had yet to be dyed, and his tattoos had yet to be changed to the bright silver of the other Aldermen. He looked like he’d have just turned 80. “It would be a dishonorable request.”
“This isn’t about honor,” Beliel corrected, wearing a cocky grin. “It’s about vengeance.”
Malcolm released a shaky sigh, his body trembling with rage. “Then, I will name my price.”
Looking forward again, Malcolm continued, “I want to know what you did with the woman and children on your land. The bodies of the males were still there, but everyone else was gone.” He kept his eyes lowered, his lips curling up into a smirk, “I wonder where our new Alpha Beliel sent them.”
The silence after his words stretched till it fairly froze the air.
“What do you mean by that?” Alderman Herlad demanded.
Malcolm had expected Beliel to show some form of nervousness. Instead, a slow smile spread across his face. “It would seem you’ve used your witch to learn more about me.”
Malcolm nodded. “Not really; I just had her send a few of my men for a visit.”
Beliel laughed, his eyes bright with something like mania-infused amusement. “Oh, is that so?”
Malcolm lost his tension when he saw anger in the others' eyes. It was exactly what he’d been aiming for. “It is.”
“I don’t know why it’s another’s business what another Alpha does. What I do with my people is my business,” Beliel said coolly.
“Alpha’s are given that title because our job is to protect the pack,” Malcolm said, “It doesn’t matter if that pack belongs to another; if their Alpha is mistreating them in any way, I’ll gladly cross the border and put him in his place.”’
“Like you did with Damon,” Beliel said.
“Alpha!”
“Malcolm!”
He hadn’t realized he was on his feet until Agun and Robert shouted his name. He stared into Beliel's gleeful eyes.
“Remember this,” he said threateningly, “the only reason you’re still breathing is because of these two.” He shoved the other man away.
Malcolm faced the rest of the Aldermen, “I’ll fight him. He wants the right of ‘Blood price,’ so be it. I accept his challenge. Will Alderman Herald judge it?”
Herald nodded. “First blood or death.”
“Death,” Beliel repeated as if tasting the word. His grin held an eagerness for violence that Malcolm knew all too well. “I would be letting my people down if I did not fight him with a sincere desire for his head.”
Herald looked at Malcolm, “Will you do this?”
Malcolm nodded; he’d expected something worse, but if the man wished to fight to death, he’d give him that. “I will.” He looked at the other male. “No weapons, as wolf kind.”
Beliel lightly bowed his head. “As wolf kind.”
Malcolm sent one more glare in his direction before he turned on his heel and left the tent. He would have to ensure that Eliza wasn’t around for the fight.
A howl ripped through the air; his eyes widened as he looked at the sky. The moon was full and big, and the gathering clans all would be on their prospective sacred lands preparing for the run. His blood heated as he felt the burn in his eyes.
He glanced down at his hands, his nails lengthening into claws.
The wolf within him was singing for his mate, he shook his head, rejecting its demands. He could not run ; his mate was not ready for him, nor would she be for many nights. Malcolm gave the moon his back and approached the large gathering of guardsmen who seemed to be preparing for some wrestling games. He’d tire himself out and then sleep.