All Chapters of Lone Witch, Rogue Wolf: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Entering deep into a fissure found within the craggy terrain. There was a desolate solitude, which fell over the stony facades of the mountains as darkness descended on the land. Unfaltering under the heavy gaze of their silent review, Tilla and Luther carried the smell of smoke with them in the fibers of their hair and clothes. The scent, an unwelcome reminder of the village and the witch that they had encountered there as they drifted further into the horizon of the remote landscape. The vague twinkle of stars faded away from Tilla’s view as they fled down into the hidden crevices between the mountains. The absence of the flickering orbs’s tranquil light, allowing for a more profound darkness to besiege them. The murkiness of night was to be replaced by a more terrifying bleakness within Tilla’s dreams.Awakening within the realm of a nightmarish memory, Tilla's eyes were immediately confronted by the darkness of a desolate abyss. Surrounded by the cold stones that lined the walls of

Rising from the floor of the gorge, the Lycan suddenly announced, “We should go.” Supposing that this was due to a potential threat, of which she was not yet aware of, rather than a diversion to distract from their argument. Tilla responded by leaning into the vague breath of air circling the fissure in the mountain peaks. However, unable to detect anything other than a fine whistle of wind through the craggy gorge with her own ears; the witch was again forced to rely on the instincts of her companion.Although feeling as though Luther was not yet undeserving of her trust in light of his recent actions. Tilla convinced herself to stand from where they had previously been wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Watching the Lycan recuperate the last vestiges of their affairs from the floor of their shelter, Tilla sighed. Resigned to the notion of resolving their discussion at a later time, she was at least sure of Luther’s desire to spare them both from being mixed up in Antheon’s impendin

The Lycan’s ears still ringing from the chaotic percussion of rocks and boulders that had come cascading down onto the odd standoff between witches and the others who seemed to accompany them. The terrifying rumble of the ravine walls as they crumbled around him; unable to compare to the suffocating dread that gripping hold of Luther’s chest as the rhythm of Tilla’s familiar heartbeat went undetected in the debris that remained. The dust and grime circulating within the air, pricking at his nose and eyes as he scanned the ravaged landscape for any sign of his Mate amongst the ruins. His heart made unsteady by the fear that Tilla might have been crushed under the tons of heavy stones, faltering as he moved amidst the fallen bodies and rocks. Luther’s breathing even began to become unsettled with worry as he crossed the gorge to where he had last seen Tilla. Her scent growing stronger the further he progressed. The lycanthrope followed the trance of his Mate with dogged determination,

Awakening to find that the thick knot of dread that had formed in the base of Tilla’s stomach, now proceeded to conquer the more sinuous tract of her intestine. Tilla laid listlessly amongst the covers of the bed, contemplating the pain in her abdomen and the daunting undertakings of the day without any desire to move. Neither the discomfort felt in her anxious gut, nor the warmth of the midday sun, enough to inspire her to stir from the dense cocoon of blankets, Tilla remained in this state for several hours. Passing the time by agonizing over the many pitfalls of Lilian’s dubious scheme to liberate her from the Coven. Her mind, seemingly exhausted after considering the possible stumbling blocks to their plan, abandoned these thoughts long enough to allow Tilla to emerge from the shelter of the sheets. Finding that the frustration and desperation to remove herself from the equation of Sethor and Phynia’s schemes, was no longer present in the light of a new day. Tilla felt the burden

Awakening to a vast darkness unknown darkness, Tilla shivered as her body encountered the relentless wind of the boggy wasteland for the first time. Her attire weathered and torn from the treacherous path that she had traveled thus far. The turmoil of bewilderment and distress seemed almost a fond memory now as Tilla found herself trapped once more in the confines of the same place she had once managed to escape from. Longing to find herself again in the damp moors of Antheon’s border with Valhalla. Tilla gazed wistfully out into the scorched horizon from the tiny glass portal. Knowing that the distant promise of lands beyond the desolate arid plateau would likely be unobtainable to her in the future, she revisited the plains and forests that she had traversed with Luther in her mind. Holding steadfastly on to these precious memories as the height of the midday sun had begun to loom oppressively over the cracked earth. Tilla’s reverie was interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door.