Mistress of Blood and Fur

Chapter 23 - The Ritual

Grace

The morning after my tryst with Onyx, I’m still shivering with lust and delight. I can’t help it. There’s more to it than what goes on between my legs, too. Thoughts of him makes my chest tighten. It hurts and gives pleasure in equal measure. I almost forget that we still have to deal with Sarah.

“You came home late last night smelling like Onyx,” Carlotta teases, while holding a coffee mug. The smell of caffeine plus my roommate’s voice pull me from the haze I was in. It’s not even a question, nor is it an accusation. It’s just matter-of-fact. I’m intrigued.

“Yeah, we hang out,” I say, trying for nonchalance.

“Oh, is that what we call it nowadays?”

“Carlotta, do I still smell like him?” I don’t want to walk around, having people know what happened. It may anger Sarah, and I don’t know what she’ll do when that happens.

“Mm,” the she-wolf says, narrowing her eyes at me and placing her mug on our dining table. “You smell like your virgin self, Grace. Only those who are sniffing you for the purpose of finding his scent will find it. It’s faint. Maybe I can detect it because I know how he smells. Why didn’t you go all the way?”

I bristle at her words. She’s reminding me that she f****d Onyx once upon a time. She was able to do so freely, with no fear of being thrown out of a pack. She doesn’t really care if she’s mated here. I envy her.

“You know why.”

“No. I don’t know why, Grace. Is it because you’re too uptight or is it because you respect Sarah’s claim? It can’t be the latter because why were you even out with him last night, smelling of the forest floor?”

“Honestly? I don’t really know, Carlotta. I also don’t want to blame it on our wolf nature.”

“Ah. Still playing human when you were nearly f****d in the woods. Did he do that thing with -?” She licks her lips, making sure I see a lot of her tongue. I feel desire emanating from her. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s remembering how it was like with Onyx, or if she likes me more than I thought possible.

“I don’t have time for this. I really want to be friends with you.”

“Oh, do you?” This time, it’s her turn to interrupt me. She looks amused, but her eyes seem tired. There’s more to her, and I actually want to find out. “What girl in her right mind would want to be friends with someone her man used to f**k?”

Used to? Did it happen more than once? I feel my cheeks burn at the thought. The mix of anger and embarrassment is potent. I have felt more in this place in the space of a few weeks compared to my whole life when I was still safely cocooned in my family’s hometown.

“It can happen if you let it.”

“Are you simply lonely? Do you need my help with that new b***h?”

“No. Maybe.”

She chuckles a little. Then, she gets serious.

“As much as I’m for women’s empowerment, I think Alpha Kele’s making a mistake. He shouldn’t have placed Onyx as a choice. He should choose.”

I murmur my agreement, and we eat breakfast in silence.

**

“I’m here,” I tell the boys as we meet at the gazebo. They’re not exactly discreet. Fox has a large backpack with him. He takes out the vials of ingredients he needs for his spell. His spell book is on the round, wooden table. What are they thinking?

“I know what you’re thinking, Grace,” Fox acknowledges. “You’re thinking anyone, including Sarah, can see us.”

“Mm.”

“Grace is trying to say, “Exactly!” Onyx says, sounding a little agitated. When he looks at me, though, he gives me a reassuring smile and a wink.

“Check this out,” Fox says. He utters some unintelligible words. It’s not Latin. It’s something more ancient.

“What exactly is going on, brother?” Dash asks, looking spooked. The gazebo feels colder and our vision seems a little blurry. It’s like a dark net has been thrown over us.

“They’ll see us, but not as clearly as they should. Not enough to make them feel suspicious. It means that we can’t take too long, though, or else they’ll realize that their senses aren’t quite as strong when they try them on us.”

“Wow,” is all I can say. I can’t hide the sense of wonder. I have been dabbling with some magic when I was little, but my mom usually locked her books. One of my dad’s friends uses voodoo, but I’m not even allowed to use whatever I’ve heard from him. I can’t say the word, “learned,” because I haven’t applied them.

“We need your blood, Grace,” Onyx says gently, as if afraid to anger me. He stretches his hand to me, with his palm up. I place mine on it, and Dash comes with a scalpel. His slice is quick. I barely feel it. The blood dripping from the finger is quickly placed in a vial. The three wolves growl softly, their noses flaring.

“The scent is too strong,” Onyx murmurs. “Was it ever, uh, changed?”

“Are you asking if my mother manipulated my scent?” I ask, not knowing if I should be offended. I come from a family of scent wolves with witch blood. My mother and her ancestors can change the way anyone or anything smells.

“Does it matter?” Dash asks. I can forgive him because he seems genuinely curious.

“Well, manipulating scents is only done to change how you smell temporarily. It’s more of a defense mechanism against enemies. I can do it, but I haven’t had much practice. Saying that your whole scent has changed his controversial because it means you can be a completely different person.”

“Oh. A whole personality transplant, then?” Fox asks.

“Sort of.”

“I’m sorry, Grace,” Onyx says, and I can feel him itching to come closer. He probably doesn’t know how. It’s like we’ve started something we don’t know how to share to the world. Maybe if we had joined the boys last night, we didn’t have to say the words. Our mingled scents would have been enough proof.

Dash does give me some furtive glances. I can almost feel suspicion pushing through. Fox, on the other hand, is more focused on his spell. He mixes everything in a wooden bowl. Words come out of his mouth effortlessly, reminding me of my few previous attempts at a spell. They worked but I stumbled through my phrasing. It’s not like that for him.

“It’s getting colder,” Greta howls in my mind.

From the looks of my companions, their wolves are also rattling in their brains. The ritual is causing a disturbance. I find myself magnetized by Fox’s words, my mind connecting with his. It isn’t my intention, but I see myself running through the forest. Then, I turn and find myself at the back of the mansion. The door flings open and the self in my mind continues to run. The cold Greta has been complaining about blasts against me.

There is a glowing form in the dark hallway. Dark? It must be one of the rarely used passageways in the mansion. Two of them lead to the basement below. I’ve heard about them only once, more of a warning than an invitation. We’re not supposed to go down there.

When I open my physical eyes, I see Fox’s nose is bleeding. I want to get near him and wipe the droplets off. Greta may have been pushing me to lick it, too. Bloodlust is surging through me. I feel like going on a hunt.

“Do you see it, Grace?” Fox asks, his voice taking on a guttural tone. His voice has always been deep but now it feels like it’s coming from the grave.

“Someone’s standing a few feet from me.”

“Open your physical eyes, Grace,” Onyx begs. I’m confused. I think my eyes are already open, but apparently they’re not.

“I’m seeing so much,” I explain. My hand reaches out. Without moving from where I’m standing, my hand manages to tap the back of the woman. I try to remember the details, knowing full well that she won’t necessarily look like that later.

Her hair shortens, until they’re a shade I’ve seen before. Her form becomes more muscular, although she doesn’t grow much taller.

“Oh. Oh.” I whimper as I see the figure turn around. It’s the guy that I sparred with the day Fox and Onyx went to town. The shapeshifter has been hiding as a woman.

“Offer her your blood,” Fox says. “Repeat after me.”

He utters words that I have to repeat and I follow. The way I say the words are smoother now. There’s no stuttering. Tobias’s face melts, and gives way to a blank slate. The shapeshifter’s body seems to lose its shape. It’s malleable and ready for its next form.

“Onyx,” a female voice utters.