The Witch and The Werewolf

Evie I am in a dark room upon a bed of silk. The smell of woods is all around me. It permeates my nose with deep earthy richness and hints of sweet pine. A shadow passes in front of the window, his form hidden behind the curtain in the soft breeze. It's so dark, I can barely make out his shape in the moonlight. "Mate." He growls in a husky voice. The sweet smell emanates from him. I am intoxicated by his mere presence. It feels like being in the warm sunshine, and I want to savor the feeling. "What?" I ask through the heavy blanket of the trance. "You're mine." I can hear a smile in his voice. He touches my hair. As his finger grazes my forehead, a melody of sparks ensues, trailing down my eyelids, ebbing through my cheeks. I shiver at the feeling and quickly intake a breath that seems to make his body shudder in excitement. He moves onto the bed, placing his knee next to mine. I sit, trying to understand this feeling. There's a sudden backward tumble as he pushes me onto the bed with such force, it rattles me. I can feel the silk wrap around my body, but the most incredible feeling is that of his warm body on top of mine. He's grappling my body with his, trying to fit as tightly against me as he can. Where our stomachs connect, I can feel the sparks. They're like bubbles, rising to the surface- a feather gently dragged across the exposed skin. My breath quickens. "What are you-" I try to ask, but our eyes connect, and I feel a pang run through me. I'm hit by the lightening of his deep brown gaze. It is almost as if he can sense it too; his body begins to tense on top of mine. I can feel the muscles of his stomach and legs stretch and contract, as if he is trying to feel me with his entire body. We lay there for moments, eyes locked, like we've known each other our whole eternity. I have no idea what's going on, and this compelling sense to touch him and breathe him in is scaring me. I am afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid of what he'll do. . . and that he might not do it. I want him, but the reason why, I can't fathom. A deep carnal urge pulls me to him, and him to me. I move my hips underneath him, stroking his groin with mine. The action brings an eruption of pleasure within me. His eyes close and I feel his breath quicken, his hips slowly turn in sync with mine. It's like a fire is burning within me, begging for him to k****e it . His hands find my wrists and thrust them above me. The grip is strong and the pressure exciting. My breath catches in my throat, and a moan escapes. "What's your name?" He whispers. His face is so close to mine that i can feel his lips tickle my cheek as he speaks. He sounds restrained, as if he's trying hard to focus. Each breath he takes makes goosebumps rise on my skin. "Your name. . ." His voice is tense and strained. It's getting harder and harder to fight this feeling, and I know he's aching to give in too.  "E-" I begin, but a loud thud interrupts me. His eyes open, burning into mine. A look of confusion is plastered on his face. The thud comes again. My vision is unfocused. I'm looking through a haze. His eyes begin to fade from view. BAM! BAM! BAM! I wake up to the sound of banging outside my bedroom door. My body is on fire and my breath burns in my lungs. I shake off the heaviness of the dream along with my blankets and wince as my bare feet meet the cold stone floor. It was just a dream. Damn. I shut my eyes and try to get rid of the feeling. Suddenly, I see his eyes flash before me. Deep earthly brown spattered with gold flecks. Peering deeply into mine. I shake my head and slap my cheeks in an effort to get rid of the feeling. Go away! It's been a long time since I've had a dream that vivid. In fact, I can't remember ever having one as real feeling as that.  As for the banging sound, that's very real. A slur of cuss words and a crash of glass breaking informs me that Scholar Isaac is awake and starting the work day. Which means I need to get up. ******************************** "She's always so quiet. It's creepy." Evie kept her eyes down as she passed by a young group of witches gathered outside the library. She was trying not to draw any attention to herself, as she always did. However, being the way she was, she knew that she'd never be free of the cold stares and mocking laughter of her coven. The other witches and warlocks seemed to use her powerlessness as a chance to purge themselves of anger and hatred. She became the target of hurtful jokes and a thing to place blame on whenever anything went wrong. Evie could hear the slur of rumor's repeating over and over in her head, day after day. She listened to them in her dreams. It's her curse. She's the reason for our coven's loss of power. She's why we're beginning to look so weak to others. Evelyn Undergrove, the only full blood witch to ever be born without magic. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't been the great granddaughter of one of the most famous witches in the history of magic. Her great grandmother, Eleanor Undergrove was the leader of Evie's coven long ago and a pivotal part of the Great War. Her magic was said to be the most powerful of any witch or warlock since the beginning of times. She was the only woman to have ever sat at the Alter of Blood Moon Coven.  Evie I need to get out of here. Fast. I had listened to whispers about me for so long that I was beginning to think every whisper was about me. I walked as fast as I could into the library. I needed to get a book for Scholar Isaac. Then, I could spend the rest of my day in the Alchemy Tower. You are not cursed. I ran my hands along the spines of the books in front of me, searching. I could hear my mother’s words in my mind. You are not cursed. They were the only thing keeping me from throwing myself off the Great Tower. Before she passed, all of this might have been bearable. But since she wasn’t here to comfort me, I had no one else- nothing else but the whispers. My coven was cruel. As soon as my mother had died, they removed me from the Pack House and stuck me in The School. The Pack House had been my home since I was a baby. I was born there. It was the only thing I had left besides mom. I was 13 at the time. My powers did not show themselves as they did for others at 11 years old. I kept thinking that maybe my powers were going to be great. So great that they were waiting to reveal themselves when I was ready. But nothing happened. 13 14 15 Until now, at 26, nothing. Not even Premonitions. And that was the easiest one to get! The rumors turned to cruelty shortly after I left the Pack House. The School was almost like a fever dream of madness. I was beaten by my peers under the uncaring eye of the teachers and staff. I was pushed down stairs, held under water, and locked in closets for days on end. I think the teachers allowed it under the guise of what my demise might mean for the coven. I remember one of the worst events at The School. “We should just kill her!” One of the boys shouted. I had just pulled my head above the water in the trough they were holding me in. I was gasping for air and soaked like a wet rat. My cloak was suffocating me. It felt like ropes anchoring me to the water. “If she died, then our coven could become strong again!” The boy encouraged his friends. They looked around, unsure if they were in agreement with his words. “Come on guys! She’s cursed!” Tears sprang to my eyes, but I was numb to them. “My dad said the Alpha’s wife got sick because of her and now she never comes out of her room.” One of the girls put in. “My mom said she’s the reason why the Alpha’s first son died.” Another one said. I heard scraping from behind me. It sounded like stone grinding against stone. My breath came out in foggy clouds in the October morning air. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Suddenly, I was jerked backward onto the cold flagstone of the courtyard. I landed on my back, feeling my head smash into the hard surface. “Hold her down!” The boy shouted. Four of them grabbed my limbs, gripping them with such malice that I could feel my heart beating underneath their grasp. “No! Please!” I was crying now, pleading with them for my life. My heart was racing so fast that my mouth tasted of metal and my vision was blurring with each beat. “f**k you, you cursed b***h!” One of them shouted. The smiles on their faces made my body tense in terror. They were enjoying this. “Die and take your curse with you!” The main boy grunted. He was holding something above his head as he stepped over me. With fear, I watched him thrust a large rock forward toward my face. I closed my eyes and felt it connect with the top of my skull. Nothing but blackness. I thought I was dead. Until I woke up in the infirmary, battered and bruised. This was the worst event, but not the last.   I shake my head to chase away the flashback, just as my finger lands on the title of the book I am looking for. I grasp it tightly and hug it to my chest, disappearing under my purple cloak. I walk as quickly as I can so that I can disappear into my safety that is the Alchemy Tower. As I reach the steps, my heart begins to slow and I can breathe again. I’m almost there. “Did you get it?” Scholar Isaac says to me as soon as I open the door. I say nothing, as I usually do, just producing the book from beneath my cloak and setting it on the workbench next to him. I silently walk over to the gloomier side of the room. I have trained myself to be as quiet as possibly. To watch my steps and movements to help me go undetected. If I am quiet, people won’t notice me. If they don’t notice me, I will be left alone. I pull my hood down from my face and breath in the scent of herbs and flowers. It instantly relaxes me. This is the only comfort I know. The silence of the Alchemy Tower, the scents of the fresh growing herbs and flowers that I tend, this is my safety. Scholar Isaac is the only person I can be around without fearing for my life. “You’re breathing was quite heavy when you entered.” He muses aloud. I know he is talking to me, but I say nothing. I cannot say anything. It would be too dangerous. Things around me are fragile, you see. A word. All it would take is a word, and I would lose all of this. This is why I keep to myself. If I make myself so small that no one can hear or see me, then I have a better chance of existing freely. “You seemed even more frantic today than usual.” He continues. He knows I will not answer. He’s used to it. I have never spoken to Scholar Isaac. I think he likes it that way. He uses me as a board to bounce ideas off of, knowing that I’m aware of his words but will not interrupt his thoughts. “Are they still speaking ill of you?” He pauses, then chuckles. “Witches and Warlocks are a silly breed. Always wanting to place the blame on something mystical. Even when these happenings are just that of nature.” I find comfort in his words. He talks in riddles sometimes, but more often than naught, I think he means his words to be soothing. “Pass me the mortar and pestle.” He holds his hand out without looking up from the book. I pull my hood over my head to obscure my face, then creep toward the cupboard on the far side of the room. I place the tools in his hands gently, then retreat back to my seat. “Flower of poison to bring new life.” He says softly, reading the words from the book. He places a reddish-purple flower petal in and begins to slowly grind it. I find the sound relaxing. “Do you know the name of this flower?” He holds the flower above his shoulder so that I can clearly see it. I know it, but I do not answer. He continues, “Gloriosa Superba. Glory Lily.” He hums as if in deep thought. “Very beautiful.” I can tell he is thinking, standing there twirling the flower between his fingers. “But very poisonous.” I am listening intently. His words are like music sometimes. “Did you know that only a small amount can kill a human?” He chuckles. “Yes, yes. Only a small amount can kill. But…” He trails off. “An even smaller amount can help with fertility. It can help bring new life into the world.” He turns around and looks at me. I lower my head, looking through my lashes at him- concealed by the darkness of the corner. “Something so pretty, something that can kill, can also help create life.” He says in a hushed tone. Then, he snaps back to what he was doing before, evidently done with his speech. I begin to enjoy the silence and the soft sounds of him working again. I turn his words over and over in my head. Then, I fall asleep. “And why should I?” I awaken to the usually soft voice of Scholar Isaac booming. “Because the former physician has been dismissed. They need someone of your skills!” A feminine voice commands. I open my eyes slowly and see Isaac standing before a tall and powerful looking woman. There are two men behind her. They look like normal people, but something about them seems off. Isaac sighs deeply. I can almost hear him thinking. He raises his hand to his head. “Your coven serves the Pack. You owe your allegiance to the Alpha, and he has asked for you.” She says in a cold manner. I begin to panic. These are werewolves. Werewolves from the Pack we serve! “And why would he ask for me?” The woman is silent, her face portrays guilt. “Because I told him to.” She looks up into Isaac’s eyes. I sense a tenderness there. “Listen Isaac, I know you are a great healer. She needs healing!” “I am old.” Isaac states this fact plainly. “I am old, and my magic is not what it used to be! I spend my time in this coven working on medicines that require little magic. Cures for headaches, fertility- not healing a person who has no hope of getting better!” The two men behind her tense. The woman holds up her hands, and they relax. I look at her intently. She has dark skin that shines in the glum light of the room. Her brown eyes are piercing with confidence. Her full pink lips purse into a frown. “She is our Luna. She is your Luna. Isaac, I don’t want to have to drag you out of here, but if I have to. . .” If Isaac leaves me, what will I do? Where will I go? Where will be my safety? Ever since Isaac requested my assistance, I had lived a better life than I imagined I ever could. Now, that could all change! “Alright. Alright!” Isaac’s grumpy tone is a familiar one, but this tone seems sad to me. “But I’ve warned you. I’m not the wizard I used to be.” “Then it’s settled.” No. I whisper to myself. “I will need to bring my books and tools.” Please. “Done” What will I do? “And my tea kettles. And I will not be staying in the riffraff of the Pack House. Goddess knows how that hooligan’s bunkhouse smells of dog!” I see a small smile break out on the woman’s lips as a chuckle escapes. “Anything else, your highness?” “Yes. Just one more thing.” Isaac turns slowly. My eyes widen as the men and woman’s gaze turn to meet mine. “I will be needing her.” Both men tensed immediately. You could see that they hadn’t known I was there. My heart almost stops. The silence was deafening. “Who-“ “She is my assistant. And I cannot get anything done without her.” “The Alpha only asked for you-” “I’m a package deal, Iris.” “Fine. But I need to know who she is. We can’t just let anyone into the Pack House. Even for you.” “Come here.” Isaac says this in his usual grumpy way, but I can sense something else in his tone. I stand, feeling a little wobbly from all of the shock I’m experiencing. “What is your name?” Iris asks me. I keep my head lowered. “Answer me.” She says sternly after I do not speak. “She does not talk.” Isaac seems to be slightly panicked. I can hear it in his tone. “She doesn’t speak?” Iris questions in disbelief. “Take off your hood.” She commands. I begin to shake. I can’t. I can’t. I say over and over, hoping that somehow Isaac can hear me. “She does not like to be seen.” Isaac explains. “She does not have magical powers, if that is what you are after. She is a human child with family. . .connections to the coven.” My mouth drops at Isaac’s lies. What is he doing? This is a werewolf! A werewolf close to an Alpha- The Alpha! “She is a human?” Iris seems to be thinking. “She is a human, yes. I cannot stand the prattle of witches and warlocks. I could never stand it. You remember. They’re egotistical and superstitious! I needed an assistant who was unconnected to the-” He waves his hands in gesture to something that he seems to be to bothered for words for. “So I asked for her.” His thumb jutted out at me. “But aren’t you a warlock?” Iris says this almost giggling. “No! I am not a warlock. I have told you a thousand times! I am a wizard! There is a difference! For all the-” “Alright, alright. . .” Iris holds up her hands to show him he doesn’t need to continue. “Your terms shall be met.” I am in shock. Isaac looks tired from where I can see him in the corner of my vision. How can you lie to werewolves? I say in my head. I do this often, thinking that someday he might be able to hear me. He sits down on a stool nearby. I can tell he is bothered. The woman has been silent for a moment too long. I look over to her and see her almost in a trance-like state. What is she doing? Suddenly, she snaps out of it. “We need to leave.” “Of course you should!” Isaac says without looking up. “No, we need to leave. Now.” She gestures to all of us. “Why on earth-” “I just got a link. She’s not doing well. They need you now.” What is a link? Was that why her eyes were all foggy? “Just let me get my things and-” “No time.” And with that, we are walking quickly out the door. Isaac is complaining the whole time. I think he’s going to wake up the whole School. Please be quiet! I think sincerely, hoping no one will see us leaving. I can’t imagine what people would say if they knew the that I, the cursed “witch”, was going to the Pack House. As if he could read my mind, Isaac stops complaining. Or it could be from the daggers Iris’s stare is shooting at him. We reach The School’s entrance in no time. The sound of our footsteps echoing off the flagstones is pervading my ears, but my heartbeat is getting louder than them. It isn’t long before a large black car shoots up to the main gates. My heart is in my throat as two more men emerge from the car to open the doors. They must be werewolves as well. I think to myself in awe. But my thoughts are cut short as I’m shoved quickly into the car, and we speed away into the night.