Raven The Fire Blood Amulet

Chapter 5

Markus moves closer and he touches Gizelle’s shoulder. She freezes as the warmth of his hand spreads down her arm mixed with the cold tingling of his magic.

“You are a wolfwalker,” he whispers in surprise. Gizelle groans silently, lifting her eyes to look at Markus, expecting to see only disgust and disdain, but he was staring at her in admiration. “A half-breed, how fascinating and unexpected” and he moved even closer until their chests were almost touching, “do you shift?”

“N…no, my she-beast is asleep…” Gizelle swallows, her throat suddenly dry, she has never been this close to a man before, not even Junaid. And the little fluttering of butterflies in her stomach was disconcerting.

“Your magic suppresses her?”

“Y…yes.”

Markus’s eyes roam over her face, the power emanating from her was extraordinary. Gizelle tugs nervously on her hair, twirling a lock around her finger. Markus was intimidating as his brown eyes were trying to dissect her, but then abruptly he turned away. He moves away, pulling down on his beige shirt to cover the bulge of desire and he wishes he still had his cloak on. The last thing he needs is this kind of complication to be attracted to anyone.

Gizelle notices his bruised and swollen jaw as he turns back to face her and her hand touches his face instinctively. Her touch was cold, but quickly turns warm as her magic resonates against his skin, reducing the swelling and throbbing ache.

“S…sorry” Gizelle mumbles, pulling her hand away and looking down at her feet. She never uses her magic without permission. What was wrong with her?

Markus touches his jaw, frowning, rubbing over the spot where the bruise had been. Half-breed witches, although rare, are never more than semi-magical beings. Discovering that Gizelle was a witch-werewolf hybrid was more than surprising and unexpected considering the strength of power he had just felt, but that she was also a healer…that was just remarkable.

Junaid sat on the edge of the bed watching Raven as she drew circles on the large french window with her fingers. He knows she is longing to go outside, but Janelle has forbidden it. The overly large white silk sleeping gown she wore drowned her small frame. She has gained considerable weight over the last few weeks and she was slowly starting to resemble a young nineteen year old girl. But she was still small, much too small. Next to him she looked like a ten year old. But that did not distract from the fact that he thought she was the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. Junaid frowns, and he wonders whether that was actually his thoughts or the thoughts of his wolf.

Just a few days after her arrival she had a nightmare and her screams had ripped through the house, shaking the ancient wooden walls. He had been on guard outside her room and he had rushed in. The frightened look in her eyes took him days to forget, but the moment when she had leapt from the bed and into his arms, snuggling her head into the crook of his neck, was one he still remembers vividly. It had been the moment she had imprinted on him, or rather on his wolf.

Imprinting usually only happens when magical creatures select a being, unusually non-magical warriors and swordsmen to be their guardian, a protector of sorts. Not someone like him who was attached to a beast. It creates a connection that could not be broken except by the one who had done the imprinting. Raven had reached out touching his wolf, choosing him, but because they were one and the same, she inadvertently imprinted on him.

Janelle had told him about her Fae lineage, but that was something that did not concern him. To him she was just a girl who has been locked up and abused all her life and all she craves now after being released, is freedom.

“Junaid?”

“Yes?” Junaid refocuses on Raven as she walks to him, her long black hair flowing behind her.

“Are they afraid of me?”

Junaid frowns, puzzled, “who?”

“The other wolves,” she answers in a small voice, sitting down next to him, reaching for one of his large hands.

“Not afraid, no. Wary, perhaps,” he responds honestly, his hand enclosing her small one in his. Raven looks up at him, her cyan eyes wide but thoughtful.

“Do you think this Enchanter can really help me?”

Junaid turns to her in surprise. How did she know about Markus?

“I think he can.”

“All right,” she nods, pressing her forehead against his arm, even sitting, she did not reach his shoulder.

The soft knock on the door alerted Junaid to Markus’s presence and he reluctantly stands up, Raven standing up with him to hide behind his big frame.

“Junaid,” Markus nods as he enters the room.

“Master Courtenay.”

“Please call me Markus, I think you have earned the right,” Markus chuckles, rubbing his healed jaw.

“Can I have a moment with Raven?” Markus asks, stopping several feet away. Raven clutches the back of Junaid’s tunic, pressing herself against him.

“You can stay of course.”

At those words, Raven relaxes and she moves to look around Junaid’s arm.

Markus moves further into the room, walking over to the window, his eyes quickly scanning the gardens down below. He turns, stretching out his fisted right hand, and slowly he opens it to reveal a very tiny red hummingbird.

The small gasp escapes Raven involuntarily, but she moves out from her hiding spot behind Junaid’s back. Hesitantly, she walks over to Markus, the fascination painted on her flawless face mesmerizing. Junaid remains where he is, his eyes fixed on Markus.

“How did you do that?” Raven asks, her eyes on the bird.

Markus smiles, “Open your hand,” he instructs softly, Raven obeys, lifting up a hand and opening it towards him. The bird hops onto her hand and she laughs, turning her glowing face to Junaid, and his heart stops. This was the first time she has laughed, and the transformation of her face was mesmerizing.

Suddenly the tiny bird takes flight, flying around Raven, the song from his wings filling the room. Markus snaps his fingers and the bird vanishes to be replaced by a burst of red rose petals falling all around her.

Raven laughs again, twirling around to catch the petals.

“Where did it go?” She asks breathlessly. Markus beckons her to the window and points out the window. Raven, not afraid of Markus anymore, rushes to his side. And there in the tall oak right next to the window, on a branch sat the tiny red hummingbird.

Markus had known that introducing Raven to magic would require something elaborate as an overrated parlor trick, something reserved for the courts of human Kings and Queens. But her eyes had been opened to something more than just the abusive magic that had been used on her. Hopefully soon, with the help of Gizelle, she will realize the magic in her. It was fortunate Janelle had found her when she did, young Fae were easier to teach, or so it has been written. Older Fae tend to convert to the darkness if their magic is suppressed too long…or so it has also been written.