Clara
Realization flashed in his eyes as he stares into my eyes from across the field. Awe followed by suspicion is reflected in his eyes as he takes another step closer to me.
“Destined,” they whisper.
“That means nothing to me,” I tell them.
“We’re here for Harper and Harper alone. I will not be swayed by… an infatuation with a mutt.”
“Destined,” they say louder before going quiet.
I’m out under the moonlight as I take slow steps to the border, my chin held high. I stare up at the black wolf only a few feet away from me now. A tinge of guilt pierces my chest before I push it away. I won’t feel guilty for doing what I need to do for Harper.
I’ve reached the border now. My bare feet stand rooted in the grass, the urge to lay down and call upon the life that flows around me is strong.
I look back at my sisters one last time, their heads held high, their power reaching out to me, their eyes encouraging me. “It’s time,” their whispers say through the wind.
I step over the border and feel our connection crack and split. My body shivers as I feel the loss of their power, their strength. I don’t need to look behind me to know that they’re no longer there.
I swallow and look up at the wolf. I can feel the wolf reaching for me but suspicion comes out in waves from his human counterpart.
The smaller gray wolf looks at me and back to him in confusion. The black wolf shifts into his human form and for a split second I forget why I’m here.
Before me stands the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. His long black hair flies around him with the wind, his black eyes are the deep hue of hematite crystals, strong and protective like the special crystals. I haven’t so much as shared a single word with him and yet I feel safe and secure. The creature standing in front of me has a strong connection with the earth, he is courageous and strong.
His jawline is sharp enough to cut deep, his muscled chest leads to an impressive 1,2,3,6,7,8 pack. I want to kiss the muscles going down to…. Wow. He’s… well endowed.
My eyes snap back to his eyes and he’s looking down at me knowingly. His eyes not straying lower than my mouth.
“Why are you here?” He says, authority pouring out of him. My powers have already reached out and are licking at the aura around him.
I mentally shake my head.
Harper.
My skirt flicks around me in the wind and my nipples harden against the cold.
“I had a vision,” I say. Not a complete lie.
He stands in silence waiting for me to continue.
“Why would I be interested in your vision, witch?” He asks curiously. That’s not the reaction I was expecting. Usually, people want to hear the details of a witch’s vision.
“You’re going to take me home,” I say confidently.
His expression falters for a second before his face hardens.
“Who are you?” He growls.
“Who do you think you are that I would take you home?” He’s angry, I can taste it on my tongue. Despite the anger, I don’t fear him.
“You will take me home,” I repeat.
The gray wolf next to him whines and I can feel that he’s anxious and oddly sad. Curious.
“Viktor,” I say.
The gray wolf talks to him, Viktor’s eyes cloud over, and he cocks his head at me. He’s contemplating what to do with me but I already know what’s going to happen. The certainty in my expression must irritate him.
“I think we both know we need to talk,” I say as I take a step closer to him. The orange orbs hanging from my ears light up knowingly.
He looks down at me, his expression a mix of curiosity, admiration, and irritation.
Th-thump.
Damn it all to hell. I call calmness down on my heart, I won’t fall for him. I welcome the exchange of pain for peace. I won’t fall for him even if… even if he’s my destined.
Witches aren’t immortal but we live longer than humans. Not everyone is blessed with a destined. If a witch is lucky enough to find their destined, the warlock is usually just as anxious or excited to complete the ritual to avoid the extinction of their powers. Plus there’s always the possibility of strengthening their abilities.
The ritual must be completed within a 7-day cycle. In the past, there were only a handful of witches whose destined wasn’t a warlock. To have a destined who isn’t magical… is almost unheard of.
The last witch destined to be with a werewolf caused all witches to be thrown out and hunted. Their love wreaked havoc that affected all of us.
I reach out to touch him and he watches my fingers get closer. He’s so close, but before I can make contact, he shakes his head.
“I have a mate.”
I ignored the fact that his words caused something to tear deep inside of me. I swallowed. Caught off guard by this bit of information.
“Your Goddess has no power over me,” I tell him. Now that was the truth. Witches have many Gods, including some of our own kind. The wolven Goddess is not one of them.
“My power guides me,” I tell him. Which is somewhat true. The whispers guide me, they protect me, only the whispers can tell me who my destined is and that’s Viktor.
“I saw you in a vision and I came here to find you.” This isn’t a complete lie, just maybe not in this context. I didn’t think he had a mate since my vision told me that I was his mate. I figured she was his pet like the other mutt called her.
This complicates things. I doubt a she-wolf would appreciate my presence in their home and I hate drama. Ugh. I’m going to need to burn some more sage.
“Where did the others that were with you go?” He asks as his eyes scan the shadows.
“They’re gone. They won’t return,” I tell him and that’s the truth. They helped me get here, cast their power to be with me, and protected me until I crossed.
“Until I can…” He stops, “You’ll stay with me until we can get to the bottom of this,” he says.
“Follow,” he orders before shifting back into his wolf form. I follow behind him while the gray wolf trails behind, watching my every move.
“What a good boy,” the whispers remark as they pet him, and I fight the smile that threatens to break free.