Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Unedited

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Until this moment, I don't think I can safely say I've ever felt so on edge. I had fought rogues by myself, lost control to my wolf then actually losing my wolf, had my best friend die in my arms because I was unable to save her. These moments caused anger, anguish, fear.

But the fear settled in my stomach as I pace in front of a door is one that has never been quite on par with anything else, simply because on the other side of the wolfsbane soaked wooden door and two way glass is a man who has on several occasions tried to kill me. The thought of the cruel, twisted sneer he makes whenever he looks at me, the blood red scar running down his face, the hole in his neck from the crossbow bolt meant for me, makes me shiver like he himself is stomping on my grave and laughing whilst he does.

Carrick is a dangerous wolf, that much has been well established by his behaviour since Kaden found me on the border of my old pack and his. He's hated my guts, and on several occasions proved that he would want nothing more than for Kaden to find me dead.

Preferably at his hands.

Yet I understand the soft spot Kaden has for Carrick. They've been best friends since they were old enough to walk, growing up pranking each other, pursuing girls together, having each other's backs. It's not Kaden's fault that Carrick saw him as more than a best friend and never caught on.

It sure as hell isn't mine.

I've heard of other Luna's within neighbouring packs having trouble with power hungry past love interests that wanted nothing more than the importance and power that came with the title and throne of Luna, but never have I heard of them having trouble in a situation similar to my own.

"I don't like how he's still here." I mumble in frustration, my eyes burning a hole through the partition glass and into the side of his head. He's strapped to a hospital bed, thick leather straps binding his limbs to the steel poles running the length of the guerney. Several IV lines hooked up to various fluids are pumping through his veins, his unconscious body recovering from whatever hell he wTent through following his banishment.

"I agree." Jasper replies to me, flicking through various sheets of paper attached to a clipboard. "Something doesn't add up about the situation."

After a further inspection of Carrick prior to his forced unconsciousness to allow his body to heal, Jasper and a few of the other healers in the pack inspected his various injuries. Heavy scarring covered most of his chest, like he had been cut open then sewn shut again. Jasper had to close the open wound on the side of his body, the wolfsbane in Carrick's system halting all of his healing. If he hadn't then he would've almost certainly bled out.

Not that I would've complained.

The black veins escaping from his wolf mark have elongated, stretching across most of his body now, just like mine. Although his have spread at a much quicker rate than my own, my veins just reaching past the top of my abdominals. Carrick's veins cover all of his arms and are now creeping up the sides of his neck, pulsating at a strange pace.

"Have you seen Kaden since he called the council meeting?" I ask quietly, scrunching the bottom of my shirt up in my hands as a way of counteracting my nerves. He called his council the second he woke up this morning, even Olivia went to it, and I haven't seen or heard from him since. By all accounts they found something last night in the woods, and Kaden doesn't want me to know about it until they know exactly what they're dealing with.

Which is annoying because we're supposed to be in this together.

So instead of attending a really important council meeting, Kaden placed me under the watchful eyes of Jasper, with the job of keeping a watchful eye on my sworn enemy.

"I haven't seen him." Jasper hums, his eyebrows scrunching up when he reads a reading from one of the charts. "But I've been updated on what's happening." He thrusts the paper he was looking at into my hands and hovers a finger over a particular figure. "Look at this reading here. The haemoglobin levels in his current blood are at three grams per deciletre. His iron levels are way too low for him to be functioning as well as he is. He should have severe anaemia, yet he's not showing any other signs."

I look at him in confusion, the paleness of his skin an indicator that something isn't right. "Jasper, what does that mean?"

"It means that he shouldn't be able to breathe." His face falls slack at a sudden realisation, one I obviously haven't caught onto. "Lola, we don't have him strapped to a heart rate monitor because he's a werewolf and this should heal him, and you can see he's veryu obsiously stirring."

I squint to take a look at Carrick through the glass, seeing that Carrick's head is tossing and turning in his sleep, his fingers twitching slightly and his face occasionally contorting in pain. "Yeah, that's obvious. Jasper, what are you getting at?"

"Look at his chest." Jasper presses his face up against the glass, and I do the same. "He's obviously fine, so why the hell isn't he breathing."

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Things both start to make sense, yet leave me more confsed than ever. If the rogue necromancer has used Carrick as his test subject, does that make Carrick a hybrid, or a mistake in the supernatural world. Why the wolfsbane to limit his healing if the vampire blood should've made him almost immortal.

Is he even a werewolf anymore, because if he has the same scar as me, he shouldn't have his wolf. But when Olivia was possessed she told me that there was an easier way of doing it, so maybe he got to keep some of his werewolf side. Is he even a vampire, or is he a modern version of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein?

Oh I don't know, the facts are spinning and I'm trying so hard to make sense of them that I'm probably just confusing myself even more.

I feel a presence beside me, and I look to see Viola is now accompanying me beside the glass, an inquisitive look on her face. Her iridescent eyes are scanning quickly over Carrick's body, a concerned look on her face.

"Do you know what he is, Viola?" I ask as I return my gaze to Carrick. He still isn't breathing, but it's obvious he is alive as he slips in an out of consciousness, mumbling strange things too quiet for me to hear. He was doing this whilst Jasper was hear, but something he said made Jasper frown and go find Viola, and here she is.

She shakes her head, a small frown tugging at her pursed lips. "'Fraid not, Luna. I ain't ever seen anything like this before."

My mind burns with a forgotten memory, a thick ringing in my skull in an attempt to remember. When my memory was wiped, it took away all memories of my wolf, but also erased other things as well. Whether this necromancer did that on purpose or by accident is a completely different question.

A name pops up in my head, Viola's voice the one calling it, my head clearing as if it is the answer to all my problems. "Viola, what can you tell me about Allivander?"

Her eyes break away from Carrick to look at me with a burning curiosity. "What makes you bring him up?"

I shrug, directing my gaze back to Carrick. Something about what Viola said when she mentioned Allivander the first time strikes a resemblance to Carrick, and the random experiments on vampires and Orcs.

Something doesn't sit right with me about the old tale, and if my inkling of a feeling is true, then there is more than just vampire blood running through Carrick's system.

"Something about Carrick reminded me of the scroll you showed us." I murmur, watching as Carrick's eyelids start to flutter open and closed. Thy don't look the same as they used to be, a harsh and cruel blue. They're red and beady, baring a similarity I can't quite place. They are not his eyes. "Carrick sounds like the soldier from the story. His eyes are not his, his blood is not his, and I have a strange suspicion if we checked, we'd find that his heart is not his either."

"What are you saying Luna?" Viola's voice is quiet, and I see she looks scared, an expression I've never once seen her wear.

I let my brain control the words that flow from my mouth. It's like it's working on overdrive, my conspiratorial thoughts turning into a theory that now makes sense. "I think that if we searched the surrounding areas, or got back in touch with Urgnot Azul, wed find that more supernatural have been turning up." I take a closer look at Carrick's eyes, and upon inspection the sudden realisation of where I'd seen those eyes. "They are orcs eyes."

"The things you're saying Luna," Viola says slowly, as if he's afraid to overstep her bounds. "They sound too far fetched to be true. You are suggesting that Allivander is still alive, it's been over one hundred years since he was last seen."

"He is a necromancer, Viola." I remind her, watching as it starts to sound less crazy and more sense. "If necromancers can create Frankenstein's, I'm sure they can reduce their ageing, he'll make themselves young again."

"She's not wrong." My mate's voice grumbles from behind us, and I turn to see his stormy grey eyes fixed on his old best friend. "I've heard whispers of ageless spells amongst alphas. This is lining up too well with the tale of Allivander for it not to be him, or one of his disciples. No one could mimic what's happening as well as it is."

"Well then, I think it's time we call an official meeting." I say, the words coming out stronger than I feel. My knees are shaking, and I pinch the soft skin under my arms to try and stop it. I need to be strong for a Luna cannot show weakness, not in times like this. "Get Alaric, Azul and the Faerie council over here, it's about time we settle this."

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Never have I been in the council room when it has been this full. It took a day of planning and organising, sending out invitations without an RSVP option. We there wasn't enough time for them to get back to us, if they didn't show they didn't show.

All of our invitations were heard, and every clan came in full. The Faeries, orcs, and vampires all made an appearance, as well as several neighbouring wolf clans. We also sent an invitation out to the elves who border the orcs on the whim they would have heard of the strange supernatural killings, not expecting they'd show. Instead, we walk in to find that they have brought their entire fabled council, twelve impish looking people who scream regality and importance.

We split the fourteen chairs around the table into two per group, the rest of the onlookers stood around the back walls. Myself and Kaden sit at the head of the table, the alphas and lunas of every other wolf pack also taking their respective places around the table. I recognise Azul from our earlier, sitting beside a much paler female orc slightly younger than himself. His red eyes are darting around in curiosity, his hand resting close to the slim blade decorating his thick leather belt.

I have yet to meet the vampire leader Alaric, but pick him out easily from the crowd of vampires huddled at the far end of the table. He's tall, taller than the rest, with a thin figure and snow white complexion. His dark hair looks obsidian in contrast with his skin, the tips of his razor pointed fangs are revealed from underneath his cherry coloured upper lip. He looks like an actor in a medieval play as he is wearing a loose fitting cotton shirt tucked into a pair of slim fitting black pants. The open collar of his shirt reveals his almost transparent skin stretched out tightly across his slim yet muscular frame.

It is not hard to tell the difference between the faeries and the elves, like it is in many TV shows and films. They are both seen as small creatures, human looking with pointy ears and constantly jolly that are brilliant side kicks to the main character of the adventure.

I want you to scrap that idea because I can safely say that you are very mistaken when it comes to faeries. They are not Tinkabell, dainty and small with pretty dresses and wings. They're tall and grotesque creatures, with long spangly arms and legs too big for their bodies. Their skin is every colour under the sun, ranging from crimson to lime. Their eyes are small and beady, making them look deadly, but not as deadly as their mouth over full of needle sharp teeth that spill out of their mouths in a similar fashion to a sharks. They're deadly predators, and the fact they are here to discuss peace is unbelievable.

The elves look more like something out of Lord of the Rings than they do from Christmas tales, tall and regal, with sloping noses and long hair. But that's where the similarities end. All their hair is long and coloured like white gold, hiding triple tipped ears that don't curve outwards but sit close to the yellow skin of their jawlines. Their eyes are human, but are only in three colours: bronze, silver or gold. Their fingers are long and dainty, like a pianists, making them the best archers I've ever seen in my life.  They're quick, nimble, and could send a throwing knife straight into my chest before anyone was the wiser.

The elves, they scare me the most.

"You tripled the guards running the border like we agreed?" I whisper into Kaden's ear, his grip on my hand tightening. The amount of power in this room, the status and variety of supernatural creatures would be a jackpot for anyone wanting to cripple several nations at once.

Once this Necromancer, who I fear with my whole heart is Allivander, catches wind of what is going on here through whispers and rumour  we become a prime target. We can't make it seem we've brought everyone here to die, so patrols have been tripled, four additional warriors per scouting group to hold the border until defence arrives, if anyone attacks.

Theo Nevrakis, from the bordering Devil's Rip pack has given some of his warriors to protect the border so I don't think at this point it has ever been safer.

"I did as I promised." Kaden mumbled against my ear before standing up from his chair and requesting silence from the visitors. "My guests, would you like  to take your seats to we can begin, we have a lot of matters to discuss."

The loud vibrations of chatter instantly die down, and the respective members take their seats, their clansmen standing behind them.

I see Olivia slip in through the door, and stand with the Devil's Rip soldier, sending me a wide grin when we make eye contact. She looks better, healthier, her lips once again crimson red and her skin taking on the healthy glow it has missed.

"I have asked you all to come here today in order to address the supernatural killings that have occurred over the last few months." Kaden speaks strongly, his voice calm and unwavering. "And to ask for you to admit if more have your kind have been killed that we are not aware of, and if this applies, why parts of them were taken."

Ripples of unsureness erupt through the groups, species whispering amongst themselves, before Urgnot Azul pushes his chair back and rises to his full height. A silence sweeps across the room as they all stare expectantly at the orc, his small red eyes staring straight at me.

Carrick's eyes.

"We had a group of scouts go missing a few weeks back." His gruff voice almost barks as he speaks. "We found them a few days later, none of 'em had their eyes."

An orc steps out from the group clustered behind their leader, his red eyes missing and his sockets deep set and hollow. It's like they were scooped out with a melon baller. I hear several people cringe, the sounds of gasps muffled by hands echoing around the room. I see one of the elves shut his eyes and look away, whilst one of the faeries laughs slightly, his needlish teeth clicking together as he does so. "You're aiming for pity orc, yet here your scout stands alive, the possibility of getting his eyes back high. I can't bring back the fourty faeries that had their hearts cut out."

"Fourty?" I choke, and watch as every pair of eyes swivels to land on me. I straighten up in my seat, hoping to appear larger than the miniscule size I feel. "Does this include the faerie we found on our lands?"

"No it does not she wolf." A different faerie replies, much to the dislike of Kaden. I hear him growl deep within his chest, but I place my hand gently on his knee and he calms down. "We can't even take account of the faeries that migrated, simply because we don't know if they died when they tried to leave or not."

"The only reason we are here is because our people have also been dying." A low raspy voice, one that stands similarity to a snake, pipes up from across the table, and I look directly in the bronze coloured eyes of the elf in front of me. She has a regal beauty, sitting straight in her seat, her features poised yet impassive. She looks an awful lot like Cate Blanchett, with the strong nose and pursed lips, a wry smize pulling at the corners of her hooded eyes. "We have found several elves in the last few days maimed, and we would like to know why."

I look to Kaden, Viola, Olivia, and one by one they all nod their heads for me to speak, so I clear my throat, and begin by asking a question. "How many of you have heard of the war of Allivander?"

I ripple of uncertainty passes through the council room, until a wolf sat a few chairs to my right replies to me. I recognise him as Alpha Jax, one of my father's fondest friends, and he smiles at me respectfully before giving me his answer. "It was the final war of Necromancy that took place last century. Allivander was a witch who creatued an army of controllable creatures using black manage to cage their minds into serving him."

"I remember the fight, I was there." Alaric flashes his straight white smile, his fangs bared for everyone to see. "He used supernatural creatures against their own kind in order to kill them. I remeber having to kill my uncle in that war, before he killed me."

"I think he's doing it again, except this time, he's taking everything that makes to supernatural immortal, and putting it into one being. He thinks they'll be unstoppable, no matter who they are."

"So you're saying," The female elf says, linking her fingers together and looking at me with an unnerving stare behind her bronze coloured eyes. "That he's starting a second war on the supernatural by creating invincible beings made out of parts of ourselves. Do you know how crazy that sounds?"

"I know how crazy I sound." I rush out, my cheeks warming at the fact I'm having to defend myself. "Trust me, I wouldn't believe myself either. But think sbout it, the blood of a vampire, the heart of a faerie. Sure, the orcs eyes don't make them immortal, but it is rumoured that any other being having the eyes of an orc can grant them exceptional sight, far more than even an orc can see with their own eyes."

"We wouldn't bring you here without any proof of what we're talking about." Kaden reassures, his hand linked with mine under the table. His voice is calm, collected, full of an authority that has everyone in the room hanging onto his every word. "Jasper, bring in Carrick!"

I whip my eyes to face him, but he doesn't look at me, his jaw set stiff like stone as Carrick is dragged into the room, shirtless and still very much bloodied. The insisions of surgery are prominent on his milky skin, red and angry like his skin is rejecting it. But he's conscious, his orc red eyes scanning the room with alarm. "What we have here is a successful transplant, He has the blood of a vampire, which we've checked. His heart beats with the tone of a faeries, and his eyes are obviously orcs. I present to you, the first soldier of the second war of Allivander."

And then hell broke loose.

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HOLA MI AMIGOS.

IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG AND IM VERY SORRY ABOUT THAT.

This chapter I had a lot of inspiration for because shit is about to hit the fan in record time, and we're gonna get a bit of action in the forms of violence, not necessarily KOLA.

I'm really sorry I've been AWOL once again but I'm back for now and another chapter is heading your way. Also, almost 400K, are you guys the best or are you the best? Words can describe the love I have for you guys, thank you so so much for sticking with me through this year.

Lots of love from me, until next time.

Lauryn xoxo