Dark Moon Rising

Chapter 13 - Damien's POV

The war council convened at dawn in my office, the early morning light filtering through the tall windows as I studied the faces of my most trusted pack members. Marcus sat to my right, his expression grim as he reviewed intelligence reports. Jemma had claimed a spot near the back, officially there as a refugee with knowledge of Samuel's tactics, but I noticed how her eyes kept drifting to my Beta.

Elena Rivera arrived last, her presence immediately shifting the energy in the room. Part wolf, part witch, she was small in stature but commanded respect from every supernatural creature she'd ever encountered. Her silver-streaked black hair was pulled back in a practical bun, and her dark eyes missed nothing as they swept over the assembled pack members.

"Alpha," she said, nodding respectfully. "I came as soon as I received your message. Where is she?"

"Still sleeping," I replied. "Yesterday was... intense. Her wolf connection fully restored, a power manifestation that nearly brought down the house, and a confrontation with my ex-girlfriend who questioned her legitimacy as my mate."

Elena's eyebrows rose. "Victoria showed up? That explains the residual magical energy I'm sensing. Dark emotions can amplify untrained power." She moved to the window, gazing out at the forest. "What kind of manifestation are we talking about?"

"Electrical disturbances. Lights flickering, windows rattling, glass breaking in other parts of the house. All triggered by anger and the need to defend herself."

"Classic signs of blocked magical channels suddenly opening," Elena mused. "The power has nowhere to go, so it explodes outward. Dangerous for her and everyone around her."

Marcus cleared his throat. "With respect to Megan's training needs, we have a more immediate problem. Samuel's deadline is in eighteen hours."

I leaned back in my chair, feeling Dorian's restless energy. She's awake, he said suddenly. I can sense Midnight stirring.

"What are our defensive capabilities?" I asked Marcus.

"Forty-three adult pack members, thirty-one of fighting age. Good defensive positions throughout the territory, and we've called in favors from allied packs. The Mountain Ridge Pack has promised twenty fighters, and Silverwood Pack is sending fifteen."

"That gives us about seventy fighters against Samuel's what, hundred and twenty?"

"Approximately. But Alpha, there's something else." Marcus glanced at Jemma, who nodded encouragingly. "Tell them what you told me about Samuel's fighting force."

Jemma stood, her nervousness evident but her voice steady. "Samuel doesn't just have pack wolves. After he destroyed Moonridge Pack, rumors started spreading that he was recruiting rogues. Promising them territory, mates, power if they joined his cause."

"How many rogues are we talking about?" Elena asked sharply.

"At least fifty, maybe more. They're not bound by pack law or honor codes. They'll use any tactic, target non-combatants, torture prisoners." Jemma's hands clenched into fists. "They're the ones who helped him hunt down pack members who tried to escape."

The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Fighting other pack wolves was one thing—there were rules, codes of conduct even in warfare. But rogues answered to no authority but strength and had no moral boundaries.

"There's more," I said grimly. "According to the intelligence Max provided, Samuel has been working with dark witches. If he could block Megan's wolf connection for years, what other magical advantages might he have?"

Damien. Dorian's voice was urgent now. She's having a nightmare. Bad one.

I stood abruptly. "We'll continue this in an hour. Elena, I need you to—"

A scream echoed through the house, filled with such terror and pain that every wolf in the room reacted. Several pack members were on their feet instantly, hands moving toward weapons.

"Megan," I breathed, already moving toward the door.

I took the stairs three at a time, Elena close behind me. The guest room door was ajar, and I could hear thrashing sounds from inside. I pushed through to find Megan trapped in the throes of what looked like the worst nightmare of her life.

She was still asleep, but her body was rigid with terror, her hands clawing at invisible attackers. Power radiated from her in waves, making the air itself feel thick and electric.

"Don't touch her," Elena warned as I reached for Megan's shoulder. "If she's caught in a magical nightmare, physical contact could trap you in it too."

"Then how do we wake her up?"

"We don't. We wait for her to fight her way out, and we make sure she doesn't bring the house down in the process."

Even as Elena spoke, the windows began to rattle again. The lamp on the bedside table flickered wildly, and I could hear glass breaking somewhere else in the house.

"Megan," I called, hoping my voice might penetrate whatever horror she was experiencing. "You're safe. You're home. Fight your way back to us."

Her movements became more frantic, and a low keening sound escaped her throat that made every protective instinct I possessed howl for action.

Let me talk to Midnight, Dorian suggested. Wolf to wolf. Sometimes that connection is stronger than the human bond.

I'd never tried communicating with another wolf through their human before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I reached out with my consciousness, searching for the familiar silver presence I'd sensed yesterday.

Midnight. Can you hear me?

The response was immediate and full of panic. She's trapped! There's something holding her in the nightmare, something dark and cold. I can't wake her up!

What is she seeing?

Samuel. But not just Samuel. There's a woman with him, someone with power. They're... they're hurting her mother.

My blood ran cold. Her mother is in the nightmare?

I think it's a memory. Or maybe a vision. But Megan thinks it's real. She thinks she's watching her mother die, and she can't do anything to stop it.

"Elena," I said urgently. "Can nightmares be artificially induced? Magically controlled?"

The witch's face went pale. "If someone has a strong enough connection to the target, yes. But that would require..." She trailed off, her eyes widening. "An object with the victim's essence. Hair, blood, something with deep personal meaning."

"Could someone who had blocked her wolf connection also send her nightmares?"

"Absolutely. In fact, it would be easier with the magical pathways already compromised." Elena moved closer to the bed, her hands weaving complex patterns in the air. "This isn't a natural nightmare, Damien. Someone is attacking her psychically while she sleeps."

Rage filled me so completely that for a moment I couldn't see anything but red. Someone was torturing my mate while she was vulnerable, defenseless in sleep.

How do we stop it? I asked Midnight.

I don't know! I'm trying to reach her, but there's something blocking me. Like walls made of ice and shadow.

Elena's voice cut through my fury. "I can try to break the magical connection, but I need something that belongs to her. Something she's carried for a long time, something with emotional significance."

I looked around the room desperately. Megan had arrived with nothing but the clothes on her back. Then I remembered something Max had mentioned.

"Her mother's necklace," I said. "Max said she never takes it off."

I could see the chain around her neck, a simple silver pendant that had been hidden under her shirt. Very gently, trying not to make physical contact with her skin, I managed to lift the necklace free.

The pendant was warm to the touch and seemed to pulse with its own inner light. Elena took it with reverence, her eyes closing as she focused her power.

"It's a protection charm," she breathed. "Old magic, very old. Made by someone who loved her deeply."

"Her mother?"

"Possibly. Or someone even older. There are layers of protection woven into this, generations of love and care." Elena's hands began to glow with soft white light. "But the dark magic attacking her is using her own fears against the protection. It's turned her greatest strength—her love for her mother—into a weapon."

Megan's back arched off the bed, and another scream tore from her throat. The power radiating from her intensified, and I heard wood splintering somewhere in the room.

"Can you break it?" I demanded.

"I can try. But Damien, if this magical attack is coming from someone powerful enough to maintain it across distance... we may be dealing with more than just Samuel and his rogue army."

Do it.

Elena placed the pendant on Megan's forehead and began chanting in a language I didn't recognize. The white light from her hands spread over Megan's body like a protective cocoon, and slowly, gradually, the electrical disturbances began to calm.

But just as I thought we were winning, Megan's eyes snapped open—except they weren't her usual blue. They were completely black, like dark mirrors reflecting nothing but void.

When she spoke, it wasn't her voice that emerged, but something cold and ancient and full of malice.

"She belongs to us," the voice said through Megan's lips. "The blood debt will be paid. The prophecy will be fulfilled, but not as your kind intended."

Then Megan's body went completely limp, the black faded from her eyes, and she was just my mate again, unconscious but breathing normally.

Elena staggered backward, her face sheet-white. "Mother of God," she whispered. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"