6. CHAPTER 6
A murmur of voices brings me out of a deep sleep. My head feels heavy and my thoughts are hazy. For someone who has just woken up, I’m way too tired. It’s that feeling of exhaustion that makes it all click and connect the dots.
Blessed be the wolf gods, you’re awake! my wolf exclaims, the relief palpable in her voice.
What’s going on?I ask, trying to orient myself. My eyelids are still too heavy to open, glued together as if the Sandman himself had visited me.
The witches took us,my wolf tells me with unmistakable urgency. We need to act now!
There are two things she’s referring to when she’s talking about acting. One is that we need to escape before they extract all the vital information straight from my mind, and the other is the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good of the species.
Garren… I start and trail off, grasping onto the slippery fragments of my memory. My mind conjures up an image of a handsome wolf with hair as black as the night itself and eyes that have only grown darker as his training progresses.
Open your eyes, my wolf urges. You need to fully wake up.
Taking her pleas to heart, I focus all my strength to make an effort to unglue my eyelids which, under normal circumstances, would be as easy as filling my lungs with fresh air. It’s as if my whole body has been affected by some spell. While I’ve never been targeted by witches before, I’ve heard enough stories to know how its aftereffects feel.
After an inexplicable amount of resistance, I finally manage to get my way and slowly open my eyes. Having vision only serves to further disorient me. The blurriness makes the shapes around me unclear and impossible to identify. It’s when I try to rub my eyes that I realize my hands are tied to the chair I’m sitting on.
It’s pure steel, my wolf comments, making it clear that we’re far too weak to be able to break out of here with sheer force.
A low grunt on my right side catches my attention and I turn my head in that direction. Blinking as fast as I can to clear my vision, I look at the large shape next to me. As it slowly comes into focus, I can put a name to it.
“Garren,” I whisper, relieved that he’s here with me.
He grunts and grumbles, but other than that, he seems to be still in the deep sleep’s clutches. His head has fallen forward with his chin resting against his chest. His pants and shirt are dirty and torn in several places.
What happened to his shoes?my wolf asks, noticing Garren’s bare feet.
He transformed, I reply as I remember how I begged him to kill me.
“Garren,” I call him as quietly as I can. I’m too disoriented and dazed to use my wolf senses, so I can’t be sure that no one’s around. Although I highly doubt that the witches would leave us alone. They must’ve given us some time to wake up before they will come to interrogate us.
Garren grunts again, but this time the sound is clearer and louder. I shush him, hoping that his senses have started to return enough to heed my warning. With agonizing slowness, he lifts his head and struggles to open his eyes. He seems to be dealing with the same inward problems I was.
“Wake up,” I urge him, needing him to come to his senses faster than I did.
“Five more minutes,” he pleads, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Wake up, Omega!” I hiss. “That’s an order.”
Something in Garren’s mind must’ve recognized the authority in my voice because his muscles tense, and his body stiffens. I growl to get his attention when he manages to open his eyes.
“Alyssa?” he asks, his voice too loud for my liking, so I shush him again.
“It’s me,” I confirm with a barely audible whisper.
“What happened?” he asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. His vision must’ve cleared faster than mine because he’s already looking around the dark room. “Where are we?”
I follow his lead and take a good look at my surroundings for the first time since I woke up. My Night Vision automatically kicks in, allowing me to take in the bareness of what the witches chose for our prison cell. While the walls are made out of thick stone that we won’t be able to break through, the door doesn’t look as sturdy as it was years ago. The red and brown marks along the sides tell me that the corrosion has gotten to it, and I can only hope that it worked its way into the door’s hinges as well. The walls are covered with dampness and the air is heavy with mold.
“We’ve been stupid enough to separate from the pack, which made us easy picking for the witches,” I snap, releasing bouts of my anger onto him even though it was my fault.
“We need to get out of here,” he says, ignoring my emotional outburst.
No shit, Sherlock, my wolf chimes in, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“The door,” I say, pushing through everything I’m feeling to focus on the facts. “That’s our only way out.”
Garren studies it for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he’s able to see something that I can’t. At last, he shakes his head. “It has traces of magic all over it. The witches must’ve put a spell on it to keep us from breaking out. We need to come up with another way.”
Traces of magic?my wolf asks, echoing my own question. While it’s not unheard of for some wolves to be able to see the signs that the magic has been used, it’s extremely rare.
“Let’s get out of the damn chairs first,” I say, feeling vulnerable as I’m unable to move. There’s no point in dwelling on Garren’s new ability unless we survive our encounter with the witches.
We each deal with our own ties, trying to break them with brute strength. While at first glance, our hands and feet are tied with what seems like a basic rope, the magic enveloping it makes it far from weak. In fact, the more we pull on it, the more it tightens around our limbs.
“Fuck,” Garren swears under his breath, gasping for air after another failed attempt to get free.
“We’re trapped,” I say with a resigned voice. “There’s nothing we can do. They’re going to interrogate us and use our knowledge to destroy our friends and families. It’s your fault. You should’ve killed me when I asked you to.”
Garren’s head jerks my way, his brows furrowed in barely contained anger. “Don’t you dare give up, Alpha,” he hisses, emphasizing my title.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I ask in disbelief. “There’s nothing we can do. We’re going to die, but if you had killed me when I ordered you to, I would die knowing that I didn’t betray my own kind.”
Garren opens his mouth to argue, but our attention gets called to the voices outside of the door. I strain my ears to catch the conversation between our captors.
“Hekate won’t waste her time with them unless she knows they’re valuable.”
“It’s nearly impossible to get an audience with her. They’re our way in, and I vote that we use them.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” the first voice asks angrily. “We need to confirm their value.”
“Then we should interrogate them ourselves,” the third witch replies. “That way, we’ll know first-hand if we can use them without bringing Hekate’s ire on us.”
The voices grow inaudible as the witches move further away from the door, but Garren and I get the gist of what awaits us. Their leader seems to be feared even among their own kind, which means that the young witch is more powerful and ruthless than we gave her credit for.
Garren and I exchange a look, one that holds no signs of anger. The cards have been dealt and we’ve gotten a shitty hand. It’s bad that the witches have caught two wolves, but a part of me is glad that I’m not alone.
While I don’t know Garren well enough to call him a friend, I’ve come to see him as a powerful and stubborn wolf. He’s been by my side even when I told him not to. He’s proven his loyalty to the pack and showed that he can be relied on. Somewhere along the way, I started to admire him and his resilient spirit. While the Dark Hunters raised up the ranks quicker than any other pack, Garren did it even faster because, after only a couple of months, this mission would already make him a Delta.
Footsteps in front of the door force us to tear our eyes off each other and focus on the imminent threat. The witches must’ve been very confident in their spellcasting abilities because they didn’t even bother to lock the door.
Two figures enter our prison cell, both of similar height and stature. They’re wearing dark cloaks with a large hood that covers their faces, which makes it impossible to distinguish them in any way because they’re too much alike.
“I trust you had a good rest,” one of them says with a chuckle. She lowers her head dangerously close to Garren’s face. “In case you’re wondering, I had the pleasure of putting the clothes on you.”
“That’s enough, Linda,” the other one growls, her words making her coven sister take a step away from Garren. “I’m Yalinda and as you’ve already figured out, this is my sister Linda.”
“I really don’t understand why you’re being so civil,” Linda says, her nose scrunching up with disgust. “They’re nothing but wild dogs.”
We’re far more superior than that, my wolf growls, angry at the half-assed insult.
“That might be so, but it doesn’t mean that we should forget our manners,” Yalinda replies, then turns her hooded head back our way. “It’s up to you two how we do this, but I hope you understand that we’ll get our answers either way.”
“By your disgusting invasion of our thoughts,” Garren says, not bothering to disguise the hatred in his voice. “It’s funny how you call us animals, when in reality, it’s your kind that acts more like them.”
Linda takes a step forward, but her sister lifts her hand, stopping her in her tracks. Yalinda tips her head to the side, and while I can’t see her face, I can only imagine what kind of look she’s giving to Garren.
“What’s your name?” she asks him at last, her voice cordial and controlled.
“My name doesn’t matter,” Garren replies, channeling the arrogance that I was sure Blaine beat out of him during his first week as a Dark Hunter. “It’s my reputation that will interest you.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Yalinda says, sounding amused. “Tell me about it.”
Garren gives the witch a feral smile, his dark eyes shining with danger and menace. “I’ll be known as the wolf who single-handedly massacred four witches with ridiculous names.”
“Hey!” Linda exclaims, seemingly offended by Garren’s remark.
Yalinda’s reaction is the exact opposite of her sister’s as she tips her head back ever so slightly and laughs. She sounds genuinely amused by Garren’s cockiness, which makes me even more nervous.
She’s dangerous, my wolf says, noting the witch’s silent confidence.
“I have to say that your looks don’t do much for me, especially knowing what beast lurks underneath your handsome exterior,” Yalinda replies when she finally stops laughing. “But I have to admit that there is something intriguing about you. Even tied down by the unbreakable ropes, you’re still so full of shit, but instead of making you seem appalling, it actually makes you smell like roses.”
Garren tilts his head to the side, his brow furrowing in confusion. I can’t blame him because I also didn’t understand much of what the witch said, except the part about the unbreakable ropes, which explains why we couldn’t get free. I’ve never directly encountered the spell, but I heard a lot about it to know it’s pointless to use brute force.
Witches and their stupid spells, my wolf mutters and I have to agree with her.
“You don’t believe me?” Garren challenges, slightly lifting his chin in defiance. “Look into my head, and you’ll see just how royally fucked you are.”
Something about his tone makes the witch pause. Yalinda turns around to look at her sister, the two witches having a wordless conversation. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on by observing their body language. They’re both tense, and while Yalinda’s hands are clenched into fists, Linda’s picking at the skin on the side of the nails of her thumbs. Whatever exchange they’re having, it must be stressing them because Linda’s left thumb is beginning to bleed.
We should try to take control of their shadows, my wolf says, itching to fight our enemies.
If we last long enough for the sleepy haze to leave, we might actually stand a glimmer of a chance, I reply, trying and failing to tap into my ability. While I’m feeling a lot better than I did when I first woke up, I’m still not completely out of the witch’s spell, which they must know, otherwise, they wouldn’t enter so freely and carelessly.
Maybe I can try to heal it away, my wolf suggests, then disappears deeper into our being to reach whatever she can.
I make a mental promise to both of us to keep fighting and to buy her as much time as she needs to connect us with the Darkness again.
The witches’ conversation comes to an end when Yalinda gives Linda a nod and steps out of her way. Linda doesn’t hesitate and moves toward Garren, lifting her hands toward his head, and then presses her index and middle fingers against his temples.
Garren does his best to make it harder on her, violently shaking his head left and right. He even tries to surprise her by attempting to bite her hand, but she’s left unfazed.
A soft light emanates around the spots where her fingers touch Garren’s temples. Garren’s eyes roll backward into his head, and his every attempt to fight her off is successfully squashed.
“A womanizer,” Linda comments as she gets a read on Garren. “A disgusting one at that. You don’t care what species they belong to as long as they have a hole for you to stick your dick in.”
“Control your emotions,” Yalinda warns her sister when her voice raises with anger. “Focus.”
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Linda muses. “It looks like our naughty wolf is trying to hide some emotions, but not only from us. He doesn’t even see that he’s in love.”
I struggle to keep a neutral mask on my face, the revelation catching me by surprise. Garren never mentioned to Blaine about being in love, but my Beta did point out that he and Esme have been spending a lot of time together.
“That’s good,” Yalinda says, stepping forward as the information piques her interest. She takes a small notebook and a pen out of her pocket. “Find out what you can about her. Even the slightest little detail can help us track her down.”
“Light brown hair,” Linda says, her voice strained as she’s fighting to pull the information out of Garren. “Tan skin. Square jaw. Bony cheeks.”
“Can you see her?” Yalinda pushes. “You need to be able to recognize her face.”
“I’m trying,” Linda replies. “He’s protecting her by keeping the image of her in the shadows. I can only light up one part at a time.”
My mouth falls open in awe. Garren is proving to be a lot stronger than I expected him to be. He’s putting up a hell of a fight, which hopefully, won’t be in vain.
Faster,I say to my wolf, although I’m not sure that she’ll receive the message. Harder.
“He admires her a lot,” Linda continues, giving Yalinda more useless information. “He considers her strict but fair. She’s important. Powerful. She’s—”
Before she can finish her sentence, Linda pulls her hands away from Garren and jumps away from him. Her head turns from him to me and back to him. Not for the first time, I wish that I could see her face to read her expression.
“It’s you!” the witch exclaims, pointing her index finger at me.
Her accusation is too unexpected, the shock of it hitting me straight to the core. My previously neutral expression is a definition of surprise as my eyebrows fly high up into my forehead, and my mouth comically falls open.
“She’s the wolf?” Yalinda asks her sister, sounding disappointed.
“Yes,” Linda confirms, then shakes her head and chuckles. “The best part is that he doesn’t even know that he’s in love with her.”
Garren groans as he tentatively lifts his head up. He looks even more disoriented than when he first woke up. Judging by the way the witches are talking, he has no idea what kind of information they got out of him.
Linda turns her attention back to Garren and lowers herself on one knee to level her head with his. She puts a finger under his chin, forcing him to lift his head up even more, so she can look him in the eyes. A part of me wonders if he can see her.
“Hey there, lover boy,” Linda teases, but her tone is far from light. “I’ve read many wolves, but you’re by far the most interesting one. I’ll make sure that your girlfriend knows every horrible detail about you before I kill her.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Garren replies, sounding weak and unfocused.
“You’re right,” Linda says, then turns her head to look at her sister. “What’s the term that the wolves like to use? You know, the one where they have a connection that’s as rare as it’s inexplicable.”
“Soulmates, fated mates, mates, forever mates,” Yalinda replies with a nonchalant shrug, listing different names for the same things. “They can be ridiculously cheesy.”
“That’s it,” Linda confirms, turning back to Garren. “I’ve found your mate, and I’m going to kill both of you before the bond can ever snap into place.”
It takes me way too long to connect the dots, but when I do, I’m too stunned to react. If the witch is right, then Garren’s my mate. She doesn’t have a reason to lie. In fact, it’d be better for her if she had seen someone else in his mind because then they’d get their hands on another wolf, but she didn’t. She saw me. Garren not only loves me, but he’s also my fated mate.
“I’ll kill you!” Garren yells, losing all control over himself and his emotions. Whatever little strength he regained, he wastes on uselessly jerking his head left and right as he tries to bite the witch. “Don’t you dare touch her!”
“How would you even know if I did?” Linda muses, clearly enjoying herself. “You don’t even know who she is.”
“I’ll make you suffer,” Garren promises. “I’ll shove thick and deadly tentacles of Darkness down your throat and cut off your supply of air, but when you’re on the verge of losing consciousness, I’ll retreat and do it all over again. I’ll suffocate you slowly and painfully, but that won’t be how I kill you. I’ll tear you limb from limb with my bare teeth. I’ll sink my fangs into every part of your body, pulling you apart while you scream.”
“I don’t like threats,” Linda tells him, then folds her arms across her chest. “I wanted to keep her identity from you because even I have my limits, but you deserve to suffer. You deserve to know who she is and to see her die.”
“Linda,” Yalinda warns again as her sister’s emotions are getting out of hand.
Linda lifts her hand, giving Yalinda the only sign that she heard her. I brace myself for what she’s about to say, turning my eyes toward Garren to see how he’ll take it.
“Your mate is,” Linda starts, then pauses for dramatic effect, before lifting her hand and pointing at me. “Her.”