LAGACY OF THE FULL MOON SACRIFICE

CHAPTER TWO: WARDED SHADOWS

Greta's claws extended instinctively as the cottage shook again, a low growl rumbling from her throat. The crimson drapes whipped inward, caught in a sudden gust that carried the sharp scent of ozone and tribal fur.

Dayne's hand flared with blue energy, a spell crackling at his fingertips as he shoved her behind him toward the hallway.

"Stay back," he barked, his voice cutting through the wind's howl. "They're testing the words."

"Who?" Greta demanded, her heart slamming against her ribs. The shadow outside resolved into a sleek form leaping onto the windowsill, golden eyes gleaming another werecat, fangs bared in a silent snarl.

Dayne thrust his palm forward, chanting low in Latin. A burst of light erupted, slamming into the intruder like a hammer. The cat yowled, tumbling backward into the night, but not before its claws raked the screen, leaving smoking gouges.

"Simon’s scouts," Dayne said, his tone flat as he sealed the window with a flick of his wrist. The drapes stilled, the room falling silent except for their ragged breaths. He turned, gray eyes assessing her. "You weren't kidding about them wanting you dead."

Greta retracted her claws, forcing her pulse to steady. "Told you. Now what?"

"Now we fortify." He grabbed her wrist not roughly this time and pulled her down the sloping hallway. The stone walls closed in, torches flickering to life as they descended into the underground chamber. Shelves of dusty tomes and glowing jars lined the space, cobwebs draping like forgotten veils. A steel cage loomed in the corner, sending a chill up her spine.

"What's this place?" she asked, yanking her hand free and eyeing the cage. "Your personal dungeon?"

Dayne ignored the jab, crossing to a workbench cluttered with herbs and vials. "My ritual room. Sit in the circle again. I need more blood to reinforce the wards properly this time."

She hesitated, glancing at the painted white circle on the floor. "You said the truth spell was done. Why more?"

"Because your tribe just poked the bear," he replied, selecting a needle and an ancient book. "And I don't fancy uninvited guests crashing my evening. Unless you'd rather handle them yourself?"

Greta sat, crossing her legs defiantly. "Fine. But if you prick me again, I might return the favor."

He arched a brow, a hint of amusement flickering. "Threats already? We're making progress." He pricked her finger swiftly, squeezing drops into a vial this time. She hissed, but he was already chanting, mixing the blood with crushed herbs that sparked violet.

As the spell wove through the air, the room hummed, energy pulsing outward like a heartbeat. Greta felt it in her veins, a strange warmth linking her to the cottage's magic. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Binding your essence to the wards," Dayne said, not looking up. "It'll make them stronger against therians. Your blood's potency born in fur, right? That's why they want you sacrificed."

She nodded, rubbing her finger. "Yeah. Simon thinks it'll give him god-like power or something. Jaden warned me just in time."

Dayne's hand stilled, his jaw tightening. "Jaden again. Tell me, does she make a habit of sending strays to my door?"

"She's not sending strays," Greta snapped. "She's trying to save me. Why do you hate her so much?"

He set the vial down with a clink, eyes meeting hers stormy, guarded. "Because she nearly got me killed. Thirty years ago, she played the damsel, lured me into a trap. Your tribe ambushed me. I barely escaped."

Greta's stomach twisted. "That can't be right. Jaden raised me. She's like a mother."

"Like a mother?" Dayne echoed, leaning against the workbench. "Or is she? The woman I knew wasn't maternal. She was Simon's lover still is, from what I hear."

"No," Greta whispered, but doubt crept in. The overheard conversation replayed: Jaden's plea to Simon, the mention of her real mother's failed escape. "She... she said something about not being my real mom. But why send me here if she's with them?"

Dayne shrugged, resuming his mixing. "Guilt? A ploy? Who knows. But you're here now, and I need your blood for my own ritual. So let's set ground rules before you bolt again."

She stood, arms crossed. "Rules? Like what, chaining me to that cage?"

He glanced at the cage, a wry smile tugging his lips. "Tempting, but no. You don't leave the house until the full moon passes. Wards keep you safe inside. Step out, you're on your own no re-entry. And when I'm busy, you'll stay in the guest room. Locked, for safety."

"Locked?" Greta's voice rose. "You think I'm some pet you can cage? Forget it."

"It's for my protection too," he said calmly. "Can't have you shifting and scratching me every time you panic."

"That was your fault! You picked me up like a toy."

"Fair point." He finished the potion, swirling it until it glowed. "But trust goes both ways. You could be a spy."

"I'm not!" She paced the circle, frustration boiling. "You did the truth spell. What more do you want?"

"Proof," Dayne said, stepping closer. His scent coffee mingled with magic filled her senses. "Stay, follow the rules, and we'll see. Or leave now and take your chances with Simon's claws."

Greta stopped, glaring up at him. "Fine. But call me 'Were' again, and I'll show you my claws properly. My name's Greta, remember?"

"Noted, Greta." His gaze softened fractionally. "Now, help me spread this on the walls. It'll seal the wards."

They worked in tense silence at first, daubing the glowing mixture on the stone. But as the potion sank in, strengthening the hum around them, conversation trickled out.

"Why do you live like this?" Greta asked, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Alone in a fortress. No friends?"

Dayne paused, brush hovering. "Friends get you killed. Or betray you. After Jaden, I learned that."

"She must've hurt you badly," Greta said softly. "But not everyone's like that."

He met her eyes, something vulnerable flashing. "And you? Running from your own tribe. What's your story beyond the sacrifice?"

"Born wrong, I guess. Fur first. They say it means power, but to me, it's a death sentence." She sighed. "I worked in a bookshop, and had a normal life until tonight."

"A bookshop therian. Quaint." Dayne smirked. "Ever read about sorcerers like me?"

"Only the scary tales," she admitted. "You're not as monstrous as they say."

"Don't bet on it." He capped the vial, the wards now pulsing steadily. "Come on, upstairs. You said you're hungry."

Back in the main room, the fireplace crackled lowly, embers casting warm shadows. Dayne rummaged in the kitchen, pulling out bread, cheese, and cold meats. Greta perched on a stool, watching him.

"You cook?" she asked, surprised.

"I survived," he replied, slicing cheese. "Coffee?"

"Sure." She took the mug he offered, their fingers brushing. A spark jumped not magic, but something electric. She pulled back. "Thanks."

Dayne leaned on the counter, sipping his own. "Tell me more about Simon. What's his endgame?"

"Power," Greta said. "He wants to break the city wards, expand the tribe's territory. My blood's the key on the full moon."

"And Jaden?"

"She... loves him, I think. But she helped me escape. Doesn't add up."

Dayne nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe she's playing both sides. Wouldn't be the first time."

Greta set her mug down. "What about your ritual? Why specifically?"

"It's for protection," he said vaguely. "Against threats like Simon. Details later if you earn them."

"Earn them? I'm giving you my blood!"

"And I'm giving you sanctuary. Quid pro quo."

She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"So I've been told." He pushed a plate toward her. "Eat. Then rest. Guest room's down the hall."

Greta ate quickly, the food settling her nerves. But as she finished, doubt returned. Locked in? No way. When Dayne turned to clean up, she slipped away, heading for the front door. Her hand twisted the knob locked by magic.

"Damn it," she muttered, shifting to cat form. She darted upstairs, squeezing under his bed, fur flat against the wall.

Footsteps followed. Dayne entered, sighing. "Greta, come out. I'm not hurting you."

She stayed silent, heart racing.

He sat on the bed, the mattress dipping. "You can't hide forever."

She hissed softly.

"Fine." He lay back. "But we'll talk eventually."

Minutes stretched. Greta's stomach growled again, shifting burned energy. She edged out, but he scooped her up.

She lashed out, claws raking his arm. "Ow! f**k!" Dayne dropped her, blood welling.

Greta burrowed under the pillow, guilt mixing with fear. He bandaged in the bathroom, returning with a grimace.

"I don't like my own blood," he said, sitting beside her. "Sorry for grabbing you."

She peeked out, meowing questioningly.

"Truce?" He stroked her fur gently. The touch soothed, and she shifted back, naked and curled.

"Clothes," she said, cheeks burning.

Dayne averted his eyes, tossing her jeans and shirt. "Here."

Dressed, she sat up. "Why help me now?"

"Because," he admitted, voice low, "after seeing those sacrifice sites online, I can't let that happen to you."

Greta's eyes widened. "You researched?"

"Yes. And... you're not like Jaden."

Before she could respond, the cottage shook violently again. Glass shattered downstairs, and a howl pierced the night multiple voices this time.

"They're back," Dayne said, standing. "And they're not alone."

A voice called from below: "Greta! Come out, or we'll burn this place down!"

Jaden's voice.