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121. Feast of Abandon

Author: Teowrits
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-30 20:25:17

The air changed the moment Emma's boots crossed the threshold. Steve felt it first as a prickling along his spine, then as a heaviness that settled in his lungs with each breath. Sweet, cloying, like honeysuckle left to rot in summer heat. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles whitening as the scent infiltrated his senses, clouding his mind with images he fought to suppress.

Around him, the feast hall descended into madness.

Marcus, his loyal Beta, the man who had stood by his side through countless battles and bloodshed, fell first. Steve watched in horror as his second-in-command's eyes glazed over, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of color remained. The warrior's movements became jerky, desperate, as he tore at his clothing with trembling hands. A crimson-skinned creature—no, not creature, succubus—with spiraling horns and a forked tail approached him, her hips swaying hypnotically. Marcus didn't resist. His trousers pooled around his ankles as he seized her waist, spinn
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  • The Healer's Bond    172. SECRETS OF THE CIRCLE

    The silence between them stretched out like a drawn blade. Emma couldn't stop staring at the woman across the desk. Her mother. Her Luna. Her traitor. “You were supposed to protect me,” Emma whispered, though her voice still carried the weight of command. “You were supposed to be better than this.” Priscilla's eyes didn't waver. “And you were supposed to accept your destiny, Emma. But you’ve been running from it your whole life.” Steve’s voice broke the tension. “This isn’t destiny. This is manipulation and power disguised as fate.” Priscilla stood slowly, her hands pressed against the desk. “Spoken like a true outsider.” “I’m not an outsider,” Steve snapped "I bled for Sterling Creek and Emma.” Emma turned her gaze to her mother again. “Why now? Why tell me all of this?” “Because you’ve passed the threshold,” Priscilla answered.

  • The Healer's Bond    171. RIVALS

    "It is so good to see you again, Emma," Terra said with a deceptive smile."I cannot say the same," Emma replied coldly as she glared at her mother. She felt betrayed as questions ran through her mind."I did not think you would ever come home, Emma," Priscilla stated."And I did not think you would be talking to the enemy, mother," Emma curtly replied. "What is going on?""I am surprised to see you, Alpha Steve," Priscilla said as she ignored her daughter's question."You are the second person telling me that today," Steve replied. "Do you also want me dead?""No, but a lot of people do," Priscilla replied."They can join the long line of my death wishers," Steve replied with an arrogant shrug."I hope your bravery in the face of what is coming will be enough," Priscilla said."Hello, Steve," Terra winked at him. "The Arena has not forgotten about you.""Do not speak to him!" Emma snapped."I see that you are familiar with the emissary," Priscilla said.Emma did not need to guess. Sh

  • The Healer's Bond    170. ILLUSION

    Emma walked cautiously, each step sinking slightly into the damp path that twisted deeper into the forest. The air shimmered around her, pulsing with something ancient and unnatural. Beside her, Steve said nothing, though his body was taut with readiness, his eyes darting to every shadow. The mist ahead thickened until it was nearly blinding. Then, without warning, it parted. He stood there. Her breath caught in her throat. The man before her was tall, broad-shouldered, and almost impossibly beautiful. Midnight black hair spilled across his shoulders like waves of liquid ink. His jawline was sharp enough to cut stone, his skin pale and smooth, untouched by age or sun. But it was his eyes that held her — not because of their beauty, but because of what lurked within. Midnight black. Cold. Bottomless. They swallowed the light around them, pulling at h

  • The Healer's Bond    169. THE GATES OF THE VALLEY

    The world felt colder as they ran. Emma's grey wolf paws barely made a sound against the moss and dirt, but her heart thundered. Every breath she took carried the scent of mist, damp earth, and something older — a magic so deep it clung to her fur like frost. Steve ran ahead, his midnight black coat cutting through the trees like a shadow in motion. Behind them, the clash of centaur and minotaur steel echoed through the valley, brutal and desperate. The roar that had signaled the ambush still rang in Emma's ears. But they couldn’t look back. They bounded over fallen trunks and leapt through the brush, the forest narrowing until the trees formed an arch above them. Emma’s muscles burned, her healing still incomplete, but her instincts pushed her forward. Something was calling her. She didn’t know whether it was her bloodline, her father’s curse, or simply fate — but it was undeniable. They reached a

  • The Healer's Bond    168. A DANGEROUS WAY HOME II

    The horn’s echo faded into the trees, replaced by a loaded silence that pressed heavy against Emma’s chest. The centaurs held their weapons steady, their eyes scanning the shadows beyond the ridge. Emma didn’t dare move, even as her heart thudded violently in her wolf chest.Then the leader of the centaurs lowered his spear.“You are fortunate,” he said in that gravelled tone. “That horn was not for you.”Steve snarled beside her but held his ground. The leader turned to him and nodded with solemn authority. “You’re safe. For now. Come—follow us. There is much you need to understand.”Emma hesitated, then dipped her head in silent agreement. She and Steve trotted after the centaur patrol, who moved with practiced precision through the forest trails, keeping their formation tight. When they reached a narrow clearing beneath the thick canopy of pines, the leader raised his hand and brought them to a halt.“We can speak freely here.”Emma and Steve shifted simultaneously.Bones popped, f

  • The Healer's Bond    167. A DANGEROUS WAY HOME

    Pain had faded into a dull ache, then into something almost imperceptible—like the ghost of a memory lingering behind her ribs. Emma lay in the ash-streaked grass beside the broken helicopter wreckage, her breathing slow and steady, her senses sharpening with every minute that passed. The gash along her arm had already begun to close. Torn flesh stitched itself back together with silent resolve, muscles knitting beneath her skin as her blood worked its ancient magic. The swelling in her leg had receded, the bones aligning and locking in place like puzzle pieces finding their way home. Nearby, Steve grunted as his shoulder snapped into its socket with a sickening pop. His face contorted with pain for only a heartbeat before it eased. His chest rose and fell steadily, bare skin streaked with drying blood and ash. “Wolves,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Built like nightmares, heal like miracles.” Emma

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