Scent of A Rogue

Chapter 3 - Bitten

Riva Present – After the Alpha’s Bite

Rain fell as blades on my fallen body. The smell of earth became overpowering. It was both soothing and invasive, stirring into my nostrils. It felt so good to lie there, my back on the soft mud, and my body stretched out, resting as it never had for a long time. At the same time, I knew that I needed to get out of there. I might have broken an arm and should be seen by a doctor – or even a witch.

I thought the Alpha would finish me off. The bite had been fierce, canines digging deep into my shoulder. When it pulled out its sharp teeth, there was barely a snag. It was smooth. Still, the wound should be large enough to make me bleed profusely. I felt a trickle of blood. Then, a gush. Somehow, it slowed. I was surprised that the werewolf had left me there. He could have taken more bites and slaughtered me just like his pack did to the other victims of the Forbidden Forest. Somehow, he chose to leave me.

What did I know about the victims that were killed in the forest?

Some of them disappeared completely, and some were found butchered on the forest floor. Someone would find me dead, with a gaping hole in that spot between shoulder and neck. I groaned in agony, my mouth opening to the bullets of rain still pouring down. I could not even cry, but it seemed the sky had chosen to do it for me. I could taste rainwater in my mouth. It started with its usual flavorless coolness. Then, it started tasting like something more – delicious, even.

Time, as a whole, seemed to have slowed down as I tried to get up. I told myself not to give up because that was what it was, with me simply lying there, embracing death. I started to shiver, feverish. My body straddled pain and something else. For some strange reason, pleasure shot right at my belly.

Perhaps that was what they said about dying. You can no longer control your body. Your systems started shutting down, and perhaps by doing so, it started giving off strange sensations. Maybe the next thing that would happen was me losing control of my bowels. No, no, no.

I was dying. I started praying to the goddesses. All that I could remember – through my extensive studies as a witch. I thought of the illustrious family of witches from which I was supposed to be descended. Perhaps it was time to join them wherever they were. They might have been powerful once, but they were all gone now. All they had left was me, and I could not even complete a mission properly.

Then, I gasped.

My upper body shot up, propelling me into a sitting position. I cried out in agony as I felt my humerus seemingly move out of its socket. I could swear that it was even broken in some parts. Worse, the fractured and dislocated bone was connected to the shoulder where the bite was close. Damn my left arm! I sobbed, but I would not let this get to me. I could not die here, not when I had a mission waiting for me, and a wolf to kill. He would pay for this! I did not know when, but I had to do something.

I half-ran to where I had parked my car, almost half a kilometer away. Even in my state, I reached it in about twenty minutes. I panted throughout, more from the pain than from exhaustion. I had to breathe out some of the unbearable pain. Driving would be a lot more complicated with my broken arm.

Groaning, I started to drive my car. I tried to do so with mostly my right hand, with my left hand as support. I had to drive slowly, on the verge of tears from the pain, but holding on. When I finally got through the forest entrance, I smelled something. No. That was not quite right. I smelled everything. It seemed like the forest had become intensely entrenched in my senses, each flower bud, leaf, manure, and deerskin potent, as if this flora and fauna were right in front of me. The shivering, however, was still there. s**t. I thought I probably would look like a druggie in front of somebody who did not know better. The shivering sometimes abated and made way for heat. It was like my whole body was on fire. I suspected it was what hot flushes would feel like if I went through perimenopause. At twenty-four, it was an improbability.

It was the bite. It was probably infected. The doctors might have to cut off my arm. That thought, in particular, made me want to scream. As a warrior witch, I needed to be physically intact. How could I finish my mission? How could I hunt down the wolf? Then, again, how would I know him in his human form?

Grey eyes.

Those eyes suddenly flashed before me. Beautiful. Strange. Hypnotic. Threatening.

Driving towards the Coven House, I realized that the pain in my left arm was gone.

What the hell?

Tentatively, I made a shrugging motion with my left shoulder. It did not feel broken, not even dislocated. Was I dreaming the whole time? Did I miscalculate? Was the broken feeling merely a battered muscle? I didn’t think so. However, I had no time to ponder that. I should be grateful, instead.

I drove faster, reaching the Coven House in five more minutes. Right after parking, I rushed into the house to the Initiation Room.

Gasps met my entrance. I must have looked terrible, with blood all over my neck, shoulder, and arm. Mud was also stuck all over my clothes and my hair. I probably looked like I stepped out of hell, which I did, in a way. The growling wolves still invaded my mind. Then, I felt the canines go through -

“What happened?” shrieked my friend Willa, interrupting my thoughts.

She rushed towards me, tapping me from hair to shoulder and downwards with both hands to check if I was whole.

“I would like to hug you, Willa, but I think not.” I gestured at my appearance.

She hugged me, anyway. I could smell her perfume, her favorite citrusy kind. However, I smelled more than that. I smelled her nervous sweat beneath the perfume and heard her heart beating loudly. She was worried to death.

“How?” I muttered.

“What is it?” Willa asked, her hazel eyes poring at me, trying to read what I was thinking.

“Nothing,” I lied.

Madame Lidia strode towards me, looking me up and down. As usual, the headwitch looked flawless in a white blazer and slacks. She wore one-inch pointy heels. Humans would never believe that she was nearing her sixties. I felt a buzzing in my head. s**t. She was trying to read my mind.

“You didn’t fulfill your mission. Again,” she said in her smooth monotone. The last word, however, sounded like a threat. It was low, almost guttural.

“Wolves attacked me,” I protested. “Look! The Alpha bit me.”

Madame Lidia did something unexpected, then. She backed off as if afraid. She moved a few steps forward before speaking again.

“You have been bitten by the Alpha, and you failed your mission!” her voice rose and seemed about to rise some more. “You need to leave the Coven House. Take all your leftover things with you.”

“Why does she have to?” Willa asked. “She needs us more right now. Look at her. She is in pain!”

“She has been bitten. She is dangerous,” Madame Lidia said. “Of course, even if she were not bitten, she would still have to leave the Coven House. She failed her second attempt at being part of the Coven of Vengeful Witches.”

“Yes! But she’s the most powerful witch you have. You’ve sent her on a mission any of us could have failed. You know that, Madame Lidia! Her family had given so much to the Coven.”

“It’s okay, Willa. I will see myself out. Everyone, have a good day,” I surrendered, nodding at the witches in the room. The other initiates were also there. I could only guess that they had completed their mission with no issues. I could not help but wonder if Willa was right – that I was given a mission that anyone could have failed, anyway. If that were true, I would not stay here for another minute. It meant that I was not wanted.

All the other witches could not meet my eyes. They were looking at the ceiling, the floor, or any other object. Forrest glanced at me. Even my usual rival did not seem like she was gloating. At first. Soon, I saw a satisfied smile form on her face. It was almost as if she had finally realized what had happened.

“You have your mother’s house. Your apartment. Your inheritance. You just cannot stay here,” the head witch emphasized.

I was still feverish, but somehow my body felt stronger. I had always been sturdy, barely getting ill since I was a child. It was a small consolation, considering I was an orphan from childhood.

Madame Lidia was right. I should not be here. I had failed two missions and would simply embarrass myself by trying a third one, with even younger witches.

However, I would always be a witch. They could send me away from the Coven, but they could not stop me from hunting down Hotchkiss on my own. I also intended to find the wolf who bit me.

***

My mother’s old house was not too far from the Coven House. The place was spelled. It maintained itself. Nobody could break into it. The paint almost always seemed fresh. However, the surroundings succumbed to the passage of time, with dried leaves littering the yard, and the gate was broken into. I could imagine some petty criminal trying to get into the house but failing over and over, bewildered at what he could have done wrong.

I entered the house easily. I pushed the light switch on and cursed, realizing that the power bill had probably not been paid for months. I had not stayed there for a long time. My heart and mind were set on living with the other witches in the Coven. I mostly stayed in my condo apartment in the city in the years after my first failed initiation attempt. The condo was paid for in advance. However, I was in a rush to get myself here. I wanted to wash myself off the blood and grime and sleep.

Would there be water?

If there was no water, I would have to conjure some. I would gladly use my power on water over electricity at this point. It was cold in the old house, with all the trees surrounding it. I was still too close to the Forbidden Forest. The coldness of the house intensified my shivering. I would have to heat my water.

I was right. Even water had been cut off. I focused on getting some warm water to cleanse myself. The shower came to life, a gush of water relieving my discomfort. After washing myself, I walked naked into my old room. Nobody could be near this house for at least a kilometer or so, and nobody could enter it unless I let them in.

Still, I felt a strange sensation of being watched. Feeling silly, I ran towards my closet and pulled out fresh underwear, a camisole, and a pair of short pants. Then, I took a robe. With the alternating heat and cold that I was feeling, it was better to dress in layers.

I could swear I heard howling in the not-so-far distance. Then, an overpowering smell of pine and freshly-mowed lawn seemed to engage my senses. I should be smelling the wet earth and the dried leaves in the yard, but I was smelling something that should be beyond the perimeter of my house.

My jaw started chattering. Again, I was cold. My hand subconsciously reached out for the wound near my left shoulder. My finger could trace it. The flesh surrounding the wound felt hot. I promised myself that I should see a doctor soon. I could be dying from an infection. I focused on healing myself, applying some heat to it. The wound would not go.

There was a growl coming from the front door. I could not understand why I knew it was coming from there. The bungalow was at least two hundred square meters, with four rooms. I was in the room near the back, close to the back door. The growling seemed low, equal parts sounding like it was right next to me but clearly coming from the front door.

I whimpered. Did the wolf come to finish me off?

I opened the bedside table’s drawer. I always kept weapons there. Human weapons. A knife. A gun. I did not have silver bullets, though, but I could try to wound the wolf as best as I could. I was not a match for him in battle only a few hours ago, and I was still weak.

I walked towards the front door with the gun in my right hand and the knife in my left. I peeked out of one window but saw nothing but the mess the dried leaves had made in the yard.

“This isn’t wise, Riva,” I chided myself as I found myself opening the door. I felt like one of those idiotic horror movie characters who just had to make the worst decisions. But I had to know if someone or something was out there, or I would go crazy.

I swung the door open. There was nobody there. I breathed a ragged sigh of relief, the blast of cold air hurting the surface of my hot skin. I looked at my bare feet and wondered if I would have stepped out of the house barefooted. I was not exactly thinking straight. Before I could lock the door, however, a firm hand reached out to stop me.

“Good afternoon, witch,” a man’s voice said.

I looked up and saw the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was about six-foot-six, thereabouts, in his late twenties. He had a straight nose and full lips.

Then, I saw his eyes. They were grey, beautiful, and piercing. One seemed to have flashed amber, then back to grey again.

The better to see you, my dear.

“It’s you,” I breathed.