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They’d all shifted back into human form now, a few wore jeans, others naked, tousled hair, all muscle. Brutality gleamed in their eyes. I noted there were no women.
I stumbled, was grabbed at, straightened up and pushed before we came to another clearing only to find Marrock stood at the edge.
Slack-jawed, he motioned his hand to stay back as something was being flung about through the trees.
A man. Skin shredded, he was obviously a werewolf, but bigger than the others. His bare flesh was torn, ripped, bleeding as an unseen force threw him around like a ragdoll.
He groaned, grunted and was almost unconscious, probably from the pain of being whipped about.
Sweat ran down my back, an icy grip of fear. This was witchcraft but on a totally different level. The whole place was heavy, like a force weighing me down, oppressive. Angry.
His long blond hair was streaked with blood and tangled with brambles, his short beard darkened with bloodied mud. Even though he was the largest, muscular werewolf I’d seen, now his limbs were limp. Whatever it was that had this power over him, sliced open his skin before throwing him again and again against a tree, then as he crashed into it, only to be flung at our feet.
The silence seemed enduring. My throat was tight, my hands and fingers hurt like hell, but the shifters stood a little further back from me. Marrock stepped tentatively forward towards the man. I couldn’t see his face but as he gained on him, he fell to his knees. Bending over him, Marrock’s body shook hard. Then holding up his left hand, a claw extended and he drew his own blood and placed it over the victim’s mouth.
He muttered, it was inaudible to me, but he trembled and shook like a child.
No one moved or dared to speak. Still Marrock persisted, now using his free hand to try and pump his blood into the lifeless body.
A bird cawed far off in the distance, making us all jump, then Marrock twisted around. “Uncuff her and bring her to me. Hurry.”
They eyed each other before moving in on me, tentatively pulling me over to where the dead man lay. One, a young red-haired man, who had been sneering earlier, full of bravado, now trembled in fear as he clumsily unlocked my shackles, jerking at Marrock’s instruction. Then he forced me to my knees over the corpse and skittered away into the treeline.
Pointing to the man, Marrock barked at me, “Do something. You’re a witch. You have magic literally pumping through your veins, you have to restore him.”
My mouth curled. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll let my pack on you. Then I’ll kill a human. You choose.”
“I don’t have my athame.”
He snatched my hand; his claw extended instantly and sliced my wrist before I could blink. Sneering he growled, “If you fail…”
“I might,” I shouted. “I don’t know. He looks dead. I’m no necromancer, you stupid-”
Stopping my anger, I wavered. If I helped this werewolf, that was it. Game over. Marrock would probably kill me anyway, and if he didn't kill me, well I would be outcast from the coven either way. From every coven. Forever. I’d already overstepped the mark a thousand times over since I’d been here. We were not allowed to help werewolves. They were the enemy. That was the ruling. But that wasn’t all. I didn’t want to share my blood with him. I had no idea who this shifter was, but sharing blood creates a bond. And only death can break that connection. And I’d heard that a bond made in blood was addictive. Powerful. I wanted to keep my power to myself. But now I didn’t have a choice.
Marrock whispered, his voice almost hoarse, “I will submit to you, if you save him.”
God, he sounded almost genuine.
“I don’t need your submission. Let me go.”
“Help him. Do it now. Or I’ll destroy your friends.”
As my wrist shook, I bent over the man placing it to his lips. We weren’t vampires obviously, but our blood can have restorative effects. The bite from Marrock on my neck now stung like a son of a bitch, and instinctively my free hand covered it.
My blood flowed. Nothing happened.
I kept my wrist to his lips, scowling at the bastard alpha before me.
“He’s dead. What-”
My wrist was suddenly gripped by the man's hands, his nails digging into it, breaking the skin. My heart almost leapt out from my chest, I gasped in shock.
I was yanked forward over him, rasping as his eyes flashed open and locked onto mine.
Transfixed, I couldn’t look away but the pain from the bite in my neck eased.
