~ "Well, now we know why Barabbas didn't bother having you lynched." That comment came from Marx.
Lochlan pulled down his shirt, grimacing. The pain had his entire body throbbing. Through the gaping hole at the top of the stairs, he could see dawn creeping in; the sun turning the sky a warm glow of oranges and yellows and blues. It had only been a few hours since Sven’s men kidnapped Penny. He didn't know exactly where the manor was located, but he hoped they had gotten there in time. Penny had taken something. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't think they could save her.
His chest was tight, panic trying to set in around the pain. As the poison tore him apart, the pain kept him together. It held his sanity in place. Wherever she was now, she was so far away their link was silent. He felt the void, like a piece of him was missing. Lochlan hoped Pe
Welcome dear reader to the Shadows. Thanks for reading. Please leave your comments and feedback. I'd love to hear from you.
~ Shea found Marx on the roof of Lochlan's house. From the front, all you could see were trees spread out without much of a view. "Expecting company?" she asked, going to stand beside him. She hadn't seen her surrogate father in almost five years. With her being on the run, and him being a recluse, this was a reunion long overdue. "They don't need to come back here," Marx's voice sounded distant. It was a simple, cold fact. They had dealt the death blow. Shea knew Marx suspected they had meant the poison for him. Poison was personal. And whoever made it went through a hell of a lot to make sure it was undetectable, which made it incurable. They could do nothing for Lochlan now, but minimize his pain, and wait for the inevitable. "I haven't had a good hard fight in a
~Lochlan was barely holding on. His breathing was erratic and his pulse was irregular. Marx had an all-night vigil, watching him, hoping he would wake up. It was the most painful experience, watching someone you love suffering on their deathbed. He thought about ending it, about putting Lochlan out of his suffering, but he couldn't. Marx hoped some miracle would happen. He wanted to rage, break things. Hunt down Sven and do what he should have done years ago. But he had made a promise. On her deathbed, Celeste had made him promise he wouldn't live a life full of hate, narrowed by vengeance. As she lay bleeding and dying in his arms, he had made the promise. Now Sven had taken someone else he loved. Lochlan was closer to a son for him than any of the others. To see him like this... Marx left to take a walk to the cliffs. When he needed to clear his head,
~The Mountain was getting crowded. Outside of the seven who stayed inside the house, there were nine others camped out in the woods in tents. Bryan, Zack, Nico, and his mate had finally turned up with the good news that the word was spreading like wildfire. Marx thought back to Penny, and how such a minor situation could link to such a big conspiracy. Everything was unraveling faster than he could piece the madness together. There were things they still didn't know, like Penny's purpose. It was a unanimous consensus that she had to be a part of all this. How big a part… Shea was off helping to figure that out. He could hear laughter ringing in the night. That had never happened here before; such a large gathering of werewolves. They hunted, cooking over open fire pits, sipping beer and swapping stories. It was like an impromptu family reunion. Mar
~Halfway into the second week, eighteen werewolves were camping out in the woods. The warning Marx had given about a coming attack was being heeded. Daniel had all tents strategically placed, with watchers being sent out in a rotation to monitor the Mountain. Marx warned them about the boundary ofthe back range of the Mountain. The natives could sense that the population of werewolves had increased, and they would already have measures in place. If any werewolf strayed, they’d be killed. Shea and Daniel oversaw everything as Marx kept his distance. Being the perpetual pessimist that he was, he placed no stock in any plan that didn't involve them packing their thingsand leaving as fast as possible. Putting as much distance between them, the Mountain, and whatever Sven was planning. From what he could tell, most of the werewolves had never bee
~By sunset the following day, none of them had come to their senses. Martha, with the help of Shea, set up for the ceremony at the front of the house. It was the only open space big enough for the massive circle they made, lined off with stones. Between each stone, Shea half-buried candlesticks right around. Marx had hoped at least half of them would have backed out and made a run for it. Who would have blamed them? Instead, he was stuck with a group of mostly untrained werewolves and the heavy task of being their Alpha. Uncomfortable was how it felt, standing in the middle of the circle. Everyone watched as Martha painted old rune symbols across his torso, placing a single mark on his forehead. While she did so, she mumbled a bunch of strange words, the flickering lights of the candles playing over her face. He had expected the ritual to be simple. No more than maybe five minutes long, tops. It tur
~Three more werewolves arrived during their time in Lochlan's room. Marx had changed none of them, but they made their pledge. Now he had fifty-nine marks; his pack was growing. It would have been one thing had it been Moon Magic, Earth Magic, or even an Alchemist Rite. They would have welcomed any other magic over Shadow Magic. Added to that Sven was looking for, and had already possibly found, the portal to Lansguard. Its sealing kept the surviving werewolves and vampires safe. It kept the humans safe. The Order of Shadows, according to Celeste, had been on a mad charge for power. To gain this power, they needed souls. The events of the cleansing she had described were harrowing. Opening the portal wouldn't just let Sven go through. It was a two-way street. The earth had billions of souls the Order
~They decided a convoy was to be sent out toPentorium. The situation was mushrooming into a much larger problem that involved every—literally—living soul. Dempsey became the ambassador,as he did business on a semi-regular basis with the five families. Werewolves and vampires weren't enemies, but they preferred to give each other a wide berth. Together they had been the destruction of their homeworld, and peacefully they lived apart in the new one. "What about the natives?" Shea asked. "Shouldn't we give them a heads up too?" "And would you like to go down there and tell them?" Marx gave her a side look, brow raised. "I guess they'll see the fires," Shea said
~Bryan held his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Shea was busy cutting up bandages, mumbling to herself. She moved his hand away, cleaning the nasty gash with an herbal solution. He hissed. The wound wasn't healing. "How did you say this happened again?" "Big dude. Claws." It wasn't healing, but so far there was no sign of poisoning. Though it took a few hours for Lochlan to show signs. His wound, though, was done with a dagger. Poison-tipped claws? With Sven, anything was possible. The man was redefining everything they knew. Only one person would have been able to determine if the wound was poisoned or not, and she was non-responsive. As long as Nico remained on the verge of death, Shea was pretty sure Martha would remain as she was. Again, Martha