CHAPTER 30
Mark was still reeling from what he’d seen in that study by the time Dean dragged him away from Caster and into the mansion’s impressive garden.
He was in awe of Riley’s power; there was no way he would ever not be.
But was it possible that the witch was even more powerful than she’d already proven to be?
Mark was unfamiliar with magic, but he’d never thought it could control another person so entirely.
He shook his head of those events, knowing he would never come to terms with what he’d seen if he lived to be a thousand, as his wolf clawed at the barrier.
The animal sensed the outdoors, but he pushed back.
This was not the time for a transformation.
The undeniable purpose in Dean’s stride meant he had some explaining to do.
Far enough away from the house, Dean stopped, his movement so abrupt, Mark almost ran into him. He braced for the Alpha to reach past the barrier and sighed when he didn’t. Instead, Dean grabbed his shoulders. “What did he do to you?”
For a second, confusion clouded his mind before Mark caught up with the urgency in his brother’s energy. He closed his eyes, unwilling to hide his pain from Dean anymore. “He tried to control me. But Caster was there and…”
“How is that even possible?”
Dean’s low whisper was not what he’d expected, and when he opened his eyes, the urgency was gone. His brother waited for him to find an explanation.
Mark took a breath. “The protection spell…”
Dean frowned, the full weight of his hands still on Mark’s shoulders.
Mark tried to find the words to explain something he didn’t understand. “Remember when I told you about the protection spell and how they connected it to Caster?”
His brother’s nod was small.
“It somehow called Caster into my mind space. And he…”
Dean surprised him by smiling. “He protected you.” That smile reached his eyes, its intensity relaxing Mark. “See? I was right. No one can protect you better than he can.” He released his hold, and Mark relaxed further when the smile didn’t disappear. “Except me, of course.”
Mark started to laugh, but the joy fell apart at the reason why his brother hadn’t been there to protect him.
Dean anticipated his question, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. I have it all under control.”
“How can you say that to me? I am still your Head of Security, aren’t I?”
Dean stared at him, but Mark was not about to allow the intimidation to stand, meeting his gaze with all the determination he could muster. Dean sighed. “Fine. Half the council and most of Zeke’s immediate family, except Zach.”
Of course, Zeke would go after his own family first, but his youngest brother Zach had always been estranged and kept away from werewolf business.
Dean misunderstood his silence. “I took care of it.” He shook his head when Mark started to speak. “You have too much on your plate. Let’s deal with this first. We can’t let him have you.”
Caster’s words, colored by the determination in Dean, drew him away from the thousands of scenarios in his mind if Zeke were to somehow overpower his brother.
It was almost impossible. The witch would have to enhance his power a hundredfold if their goal was to match Dean’s will.
And that was how a Prime Alpha controlled other wolves.
Not by magic as the vampires thought, but by the force of his will.
The best course of action right now was to find and disable both Zeke and the witch.
“Will you stay?” He asked, knowing he would need Dean if he had any hope of attaining that goal.
Dean nodded. “What do you need?”
His own determination reinforced by his brother’s support, his mind did what it did best.
It was time for a plan. He wasn’t about to let Zeke take his family away from him, both the family he’d been born into and the one he’d acquired.
They needed Amelia first. Only more information would tip the balance in their favor.
***
It was the strangest thing he’d ever felt and yet unsurprising.
There had been an inkling of recognition, something deep in his psyche awakening as soon as he’d seen the projection of Amelia a few hours ago.
But now that she was here in front of him, Mark couldn’t ignore the pull towards her.
It was as if he’d known her his whole life, but that was not possible.
Until that memory of the worst night of his life, he’d never seen her before.
Her brown hair was pulled back away from her face to reveal the familiar green eyes, kindness shining through them as she smiled at him and held out her hand.
His response to her was automatic, foreign and indescribable.
Her skin was warm against his, the familiar touch bringing him more peace than he hoped to feel in one lifetime.
Was she using magic to calm him? The only time he felt this sense of calm was when Caster was in the room.
He tore his attention from the diminutive witch standing in front of him to scan the room for the one person he needed to see, but Caster was not here. He met the Queen’s smile from across the room, still unwilling to step away from Amelia and the calming effect she had on him.
Dean’s immense presence just over his shoulder was undeniable, as was the support he was certain of from his brother. Edie and Adella were also here, as was another woman, another witch he’d never met.
Amelia tugged at his hand, her hold firm, but soft. “Come sit. I haven’t seen you in so long. How have you been?” Her smile fell, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. That is a stupid question. I wouldn’t be here if everything had not gone terribly wrong.”
Mark glanced at Dean, who shrugged, and the calming effect Amelia had on him continued to infiltrate the chaos of endless strategy in his mind. He lost sight of it all as his wolf communicated its trust in her by flooding his body with healing, and he had no choice but to follow the animal’s lead.
Amelia sat next to him, close enough that she maintained her hold on his hand.
Her grip tightened and loosened in a distinct rhythm that was as familiar to him as she was.
Except he was certain he’d never met her before.
Could he be missing a vital part of his life, one that Amelia had been a major part of?
The silence in the room was palpable; even Dean, who was never one to stay silent for too long, sensed the energy. Allies. Everyone in this room was an ally, and it was time to prepare for the inevitable war Ethel had unleashed on them.
“Mark.” Even her voice, her distinct cadence of the syllables that made up his name, was a memory, a memory that made his animal self stand up and take notice.
She pointed to the stranger in the room.
“This is Amara. She is from the African Coven. Their magic is outside of the European Coven’s influence. She’s here to help.”
Mark tore his attention away from Amelia and the effect she was having on him to look at the other woman.
Like most witches, she was small in stature, her slight frame dwarfed by the contrast of Dean’s majestic largeness, the effect almost comical when Dean moved to stand next to her.
Her brown eyes were bright as she smiled at him, her power different, potent, its bright orange haze illuminating her dark skin with a glow he could see through his wolf’s eyes.
But his wolf didn’t sense a threat from her. She seemed more powerful than even Edie and Adella, which he didn’t think was possible.
“She is.” The Queen startled him, and he cursed having forgotten to keep that mental barrier closed. Caster wouldn’t like that.
The Queen smiled. Then it’s a good thing he is not here, yes?
He smiled back with a small nod, but still undertook the enormous effort to build back that barrier, breathing a sigh when it was back up. There was no need to risk Caster’s wrath.
The Queen invited everyone to take a seat, and Mark nodded his gratitude at Dean.
His brother didn’t need to be here, but Mark had the distinct feeling that whatever he was about to find out would be significant enough to alter his life and his brother’s support would be necessary.
If he couldn’t have Caster, Dean was the best substitute.
Where was he? It was strange being away from him, but Mark resisted the urge to filter the house for his unique scent.
He took a breath and turned to Amelia. “How do I know you?”
Her smile lost some of its warmth, and he braced for a sad story. “I had already left the coven when I met your mother.” She glanced at Dean. “You were a little boy then. She sought out my services to help protect you from an illness that was affecting the wolf community at the time.”
“I don’t remember you,” Dean said.
Amelia shook her head. “You wouldn’t. You were very young and sick. Something, something magical had been attacking wolves at the time, affecting your ability to heal. She… your mother… tried everything but magic. I ran a small…clinic, I guess would be the right term for it today,
where I used a mixture of herbs and magic to aid the local community. I think that is how your mother found me.”
She took a breath. “Anyway, my magic helped, and soon the wolves were thriving again, and I didn’t see her for a while, perhaps a century or more.”
She chuckled. “Keeping track of time is difficult when you’re immortal.”
She turned to Mark, took both his hands in hers, her energy shifting as she frowned.
“She was at least eight months pregnant and in a lot of pain. To this day, I am not sure how she found me, but I thank the Goddess every day that she did.”
Mark could not contain his gasp. He glanced at his brother, who just shook his head.
“The pregnancy had been difficult from the beginning, but when she appeared at my door, she was battling for her life.”
“Magicae Lupus?” Edie’s whisper may as well have been a shout.
Amelia nodded. “I need you to hear me.” The conviction in her emphatic statement drew Mark out of the turmoil the new information had created and back to the present, back to her. “Your mother loved you so much, she was willing to die for you, and in the end she did.”
“What?” Dean’s voice was like a whisper, drowning in the denial he couldn’t help. Mark wanted to believe Amelia’s assessment, but that’s not the mother he remembered.
Amelia did not grant Dean her attention; she focused all her energy, her words, on Mark.
“She’d struggled with the pregnancy from the beginning, and as soon as she told me about it, I knew what it was. I knew what you were.”
She sniffed back her tears, tears that Mark could see clouding her eyes.
“You are special. The wolf that was prophesied to be the bridge between our worlds. Your destiny is to bring all supernatural kind together.”
Mark shook his head. None of it made sense. “My mother didn’t like witches.”
Amelia smiled. “No, she did not. But by the time we lost her…” Her voice cracked. “…she and I had become closer than sisters.” She squeezed Mark’s hand, unwilling to release the connection. “Honey, you only don’t remember that side of her because she asked me to erase it from your mind.”
“Why would she ask you to do that?” Dean’s jaw was tight with the impatience he was doing his best to conceal.
“If you didn’t know that you were Magicae Lupus, you were safe. No one could try to take you or kill you, which would have been very easy when you were a child.” Adella said, the significance of the whispered words a fact none of them could overlook.
“But that witch still found him,” Dean said, his anger hiding behind a calm fa?ade.
Amelia lowered her gaze. “That’s because I failed her. I failed you.” She sniffed again, but her tears slipped past her control anyway. “It was my job to protect you, to keep you from Ethel, but I was not powerful enough.”
“How did Ethel even know about me?” The desire to comfort Amelia was as foreign and familiar as the calm effect she had on him, but Mark had to know. Information was the only way they would win this war.
“I don’t know. Your mother and I were so careful. Her heart broke every time she denied your desire to be close to her. She gave you away to your grandfather because we both thought that her love would unlock the magic that made you Magicae Lupus, which would make it easy for Ethel,
others to sense it.”
She shook her head. “We were mistaken. We’d translated the prophecy incorrectly.”
“It wasn’t her love that would unlock your destiny…” Edie said. “It was Caster’s.”
Amelia nodded and smiled, sniffing back tears that didn’t seem to obey her desire to staunch them. “I see you found the key?”
Mark looked at their joined hands. “Yes.”
“How is it possible that Caster can occupy the same space with his wolf?” Dean asked, and Mark was glad to have him. It was impossible for him to think straight enough to ask the pertinent questions, and Dean in full Prime Alpha mode didn’t miss much.
“The protection spell.” Edie’s reply was a small whisper devoid of the effervescent energy Mark had come to associate with her.
He heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath, a signal that his patience was at an end, and he glanced at his brother, a subtle shake of the head, stopping whatever explosion of anger he’d been about to unleash. “Then why didn’t he come before?” His question was a small whisper instead.
“What do you mean?” Amelia asked, her eyes widening.
Mark closed his eyes, summoning his strength. “When Zeke came back, I was stuck in that darkness for three days. I don’t remember much, but I remember calling for Caster, and he never came.”
Edie gasped, and his attention shifted to her, only to be met with the same shocked looks from all the witches in the room. He opened his mouth to reiterate his need for an explanation, but the witch he was unfamiliar with spoke first. “Three days?” She asked.
He nodded.
“And you have no memory of what occurred in that time?” The slight accent, the rhythm of her words spoke of a different time, like she was older than time allowed.
He nodded again, urgent energy in her words, her sharp movement as she pushed every book on the coffee table to the floor, clearing the space for something.
“What is it, Amara?” Edie asked.
The orange haze around her deepened to almost red as she mouthed words in a language so unfamiliar, it didn’t seem like a language at all.
She repeated the chant twice, and a blue flame covered her hands, spreading to engulf the table without consuming the wood.
She turned to Mark with a gasp, and he was held captive by eyes blazing with a blue flame. “You were in the Underworld.”
Mark started to shake his head, but the look of utter devastation on Amelia’s face stopped him cold.
His wolf retreated to its corner in his mind, subdued, terrified.
He recognized that as his own fear, and when he glanced at his brother for some assurance, the same fear was mirrored in his face.
His breath caught. He’d never seen Dean afraid, not even at the height of the war when they all lived with the abject terror of imminent annihilation.