Chapter 5: The Gate and the Ghost
997 Words
The gates of the obsidian fortress were huge, cold, and imposing, but they were nothing compared to the wall of men standing in front of them. Fifty wolves stood in a silent semicircle, their eyes glowing faintly in the twilight.
Beyond the iron bars, a fleet of black SUVs sat idling, their headlights cutting through the mountain mist.
Marcus stood there, flanked by three men in cheap suits: private security and a local sheriff who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else on earth. Marcus looked small. For twelve years, Elena had seen him as a giant. Now, standing next to Killian, Marcus looked like a frantic ant.
"Elena!" Marcus screamed when he saw her appear on the battlements. "I know you are in there! Stop this psychotic break and come out here right now. I have spoken to the police. If you come now, I will tell them you were drugged. We can still fix this, we can make us work."
Killian’s hand rested on the small of Elena’s back, a heavy, warm reminder of the power at her side. "What would you like to be done to him? Do you want me to kill him?" he asked, his voice a casual rumble. "It would take less than a second."
"No," Elena said, stepping to the edge of the stone railing. "I just want him to see."
"Open the gate," Killian commanded.
The iron groaned as it swung wide. Elena walked out, her bare feet hitting the gravel. She was still wearing the velvet Royal robe, her hair wild and loose, her skin glowing with a vitality she had never possessed in the city.
Marcus rushed forward, his face contorted in a mix of rage and faux-concern. "Elena, thank God. Look at you, how come you are covered in… is that fur? What have these cultists done to you?"
" Can you see what is happening?" He turned to the men with him.
He reached out to grab her wrist, the same way he had a thousand times before to lead her away from a conversation he didn't like.
Elena didn't flinch. She didn't move.
The moment his fingers touched her skin, a low, tectonic growl erupted from the forest behind her. Fifty wolves bared their teeth in unison.
"Do not touch me, Marcus," Elena said. Her voice was calm, but it held the weight of a mountain.
"Excuse me?" Marcus barked. "You seem to have forgotten the fact that I am your husband. You belong to me. You are coming home, and we are going to get you a psychiatrist to help you shake off this illness and a..."
"I am not your wife," Elena interrupted. She looked at the sheriff. "Sheriff, I am here of my own free will. I was not drugged. I was not kidnapped. In fact, I have never been more awake."
"Elena, enough!" Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook. He looked at Killian. "I don't know who you are, or what kind of weird commune you are running, but name your price. How much to get her back? A million? Two?"
Killian stepped out of the shadows. He didn't shift. He didn't yell. He simply walked until he was towering over Marcus. The air temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
"I did but expect so much from you so I am not surprised." He shook his head.
" Tell me how much it is you want and it is yours." The clueless Marcus urged.
"Do you think you can buy a Queen with paper?" Killian asked. He reached out, plucking the checkbook from Marcus’s hand and crushing it into a tight ball of pulp with one hand. "You called her broken, you called her useless."
"You controlled her mind like she was your plaything. You spent twelve years trying to extinguish the brightest light in this world because you were too small to handle the heat."
"I... I..." Marcus stumbled back, his bravado vanishing as he looked into Killian’s silver eyes.
Elena stepped forward, her eyes suddenly flashing a brilliant, molten gold.
"Marcus," she whispered. "The woman you married died in that penthouse and the I've standing before you is a new being, a reborn. I don't want your money. I don't want your life and neither do I ever want to set my eyes in you, again."
" But if you ever dream to set foot on this mountain again, I won't ask the King to protect me."
She let her claws slide out—long, sharp, and deadly. She didn't strike him. She simply traced a line in the dirt between them.
"I will hunt you myself."
The sheriff took one look at Elena’s eyes and her claws, turned around, and got into his cruiser. "Mr. Vance, I suggest you leave. Now."
Marcus looked at Elena, then at the massive, predatory man standing behind her, and finally at the army of wolves waiting for the order to tear him apart. He scrambled into his SUV, his tires screeching as he fled down the mountain.
Elena watched the taillights disappear. The weight that had been on her chest for a decade was gone. But as the adrenaline faded, a new sensation took over.
A deep, burning ache in her core. A pull toward Killian that was becoming unbearable.
He is the Alpha, her wolf whispered, more clearly than ever. He defended us. Now, let us belong to him.
Killian turned her toward him, his expression unreadable. "He's gone, Elena. You're free."
"I don't feel free," Elena rasped, her heart thudding against her ribs. "I feel... hungry."
Killian’s eyes darkened, the silver turning to black. He knew exactly what was happening. The mate bond was finally fully engaging, triggered by the stress of the confrontation.
"The fever is starting," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Your first moon is rising, Elena. And you are going to need me more than you ever have before."
- Writer
