The Ash Witch and the Alpha

Ash Witch, Remnant Witch

Ever since she was a child, Diana had vivid dreams. Some were nonsensical, fueled by anxiety or too much sugar before bed. Yet lately, they had felt so much more real and complex. She would never admit that she felt comfortable in Tristan’s arms, that she enjoyed how warm he was and it made her want to never leave. The rage she felt last night was all consuming, both at him and for him. That wolf had dared to try and take her against her will and her magic overflowed.

It was like she had been trapped in a box with no air, she had felt the room slowly lose all it’s oxygen and she had adapted to life without it, only for a window to fling open and she had never realized just how much it filled her. Her magic was basic at best, she had no knowledge of complex spells, only basic potions yet through sheer will, she had done so much more. Had she always been able to bend the world to her will and just had no knowledge of it? Her grandfather had certainly never even so much as alluded to it, he simply taught her to heal, to protect. Yet protecting the pack last night had been violent, raw. She hadn’t transferred a wound larger than a papercut before and didn’t realize how much it would sting. But the girl had tried to protect her, Diana owed her a back without scars, at the very least.

So perhaps that was why she dreamed of wolves last night, of the full moon and the howling to it. She dreamed of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, weeping into a pit and turning it into a lake, of women being baptized and arising with as much power as she felt last night. Wolves stood guard at the bank, protecting the newly made witches, sharing their power with them.

It was ethereal, the glow they emitted. Diana didn’t even realize that she had walked towards them until a woman grinned at her, they had the same smile, “Ash Witch.” She greeted, causing all the wolves to turn to her, “Remnant of Selene, the Crescent Witch.” Diana opened her mouth to speak but there were no words she could say.

The beautiful woman, no, the Goddess, turned to her then, plucking a strand of hair from her head and placing it in Diana’s palm before taking the other half and placing it on the snout of a tawny wolf. Like a spider web, it shot out, connecting her to all the wolves present and she felt the power flowing.

“You were not destined for a coven, my dear.” Her words make Diana want to weep, she was in denial about a lot of things, her ache for a coven being one of them, “But a pack will never leave their Luna behind.” The wolves howled in unison, startling her awake.

Tristan’s grip was tight around her, where it was once comforting quickly twisted into entrapment. No, she assured herself, no matter what the pulling in her heart was, she was not meant to be a part of anything, a pack, a coven, nothing. Diana slipped out of the bed and quickly dressed, the sun was not even up yet and she slipped out of the pack house in the cover of darkness.

Guilt pulled her to the infirmary, where a few wounded wolves lay, still resting. She could hear two nurses chatting in the other room and with a flick of her wrist, silenced her steps. The feeling of her magic weighed on her, the power heavy in her chest, why was it so much stronger than before? The question haunted her as she made her way from bed to bed, wishing she had herbs to channel with, it was much more tiring to do direct healing magic. Her fingers grazed over wounds, knitting flesh back together, soothing the pain of lesser marks. She focused on healing the worst off, lest she exhaust herself, a long day lay ahead of her.

When she was content that the injured were going to be fine, she focused on the wind, letting it guide her home. Diana walked on foot, content to let the morning wake around her. She had walked a good mile before a wolf appeared in her way, attempting to stop her. She bared her teeth, surprising even herself at such a primal display.

“Move.” She said simply, “I’m leaving.” The wolf growled, not so much as a threat but as a warning for her to stay there, no doubt mindlinking Tristan to tell him where she was. Had he noticed she was missing? She hadn’t realized she hoped he would come looking for her until that moment and she was angry at herself. Was this what Stockholm syndrome felt like? Missing the man who had locked her in a room and sealed her magic away? Missing how he held her, how his scent was a balm to her wounded spirit?

Diana frowned at the sound of more wolves on her way and without thinking, she repeated herself, “Move.” It was instinctual but the tone carried further, echoing through the trees and the once might wolf now looked like a pup, baring his neck in submission and whimpering, taking a few steps back. She refused to think about what she had just done, she simply ran. Diana put one foot in front of another until she reached a road and kept running, her instincts taking her to a populated area and she stood before a bus stop, reading the map. She almost wanted to laugh, she was a thirty minute drive from home, why had she assumed she was so far away from where she had last lived?

Diana was checking the bus timetable before she realized she didn’t have her phone or wallet, “f**k,” she mumbled to herself. She contemplated walking home or trying to teleport herself, although as a teen when she had tried that with the lunch she had left on her counter, it had appeared in pieces, she had no desire to arrive that way herself.

She grit her teeth before walking up to a nice enough looking stranger, “Hi, I’m so sorry to ask you this but my phone died and my friend doesn’t know what time to come get me, could I borrow your phone?” She tried to look friendly, nonthreatening, like a nice, normal young woman. The older lady smiled at her, pulling an old school flip phone out of her purse.

“Of course, dear! So nice that you know their phone number, kids these days don’t memorize anything anymore.” She was slightly condescending but at that point Diana didn’t care, she simply smiled and pressed the buttons on the phone.

It rang twice before a puzzled “hello?” rang out.

“Bec, it’s me.” Diana tried to sound nonchalant but there was a quick intake of breath on the other end of the line, “I’m at the bus stop in Jonestown and my phone died, so I couldn’t text you that I’m here. Could you pick me up, please?”

“What the f**k happened?” Becca half shouted, making Diana glad the old woman was half deaf, “It’s been weeks, Diana, weeks!” Had it? She asked herself, honestly unsure, she had assumed so but it being confirmed brought her little comfort.

“Yeah, Jonestown, it’s on transportation way and main street, you can’t miss it. I’ll see you soon?” Diana completely ignored her, well aware of the old woman and how she was pointedly watching her, almost as if she expected her to run off with the dinosaur of a phone.

Becca gave a long, dramatic sigh, “I’ll be there in twenty.” The phone clicked before she could say goodbye so Diana faked one before flipping the phone closed and handing it back with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.

A bus chugs into the station and with a wheeze, the door slides open. The old woman climbs aboard and gives Diana a light wave goodbye. She takes her spot on the bench and brings her knees to her chest, sniffing lightly and wondering why her sweats smell so good, like comfort. She stiffens when she realizes they aren’t hers, they’re the ones Tristan wore the night before. She has a sudden urge to cry, to run back into his arms and let him have his way with her, to make love to him and her whole body suddenly aches in a way she didn’t think she could possibly stand to live with.

“Luuuuucy, you got some explaining to do!” Becca yells from her car in her best Desi impression, startling her out of her misery. Diana d**g herself to the car and practically melted into the seat, her stomach growling loudly. Becca didn’t look amused, “If I buy you a burger, will you tell me what happened?”

Diana nodded and they drove in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t until she had an oversized burger and a bag of greasy fries in front of her that she spoke. “How much do you know about werewolves?” She purposely took a large bite to avoid talking further.

Becca wrinkled her nose, “Ew” was all she said. “Betty says they’re super territorial and usually are too busy fighting each other to really pay attention to anyone else.” Diana simply hummed a response, chewing slowly.

“Did you know they have mates like vampires do?” Becca didn’t respond, her brow furrowing as she grabbed a french fry. “They like to claim them immediately.”

The blinker clicked on so fast, Diana didn’t even realize what Becca was doing until they pulled over. “Were you helping one claim their mate or….?” The unasked question hung heavily in the air.

Another long pause resumes. Becca was human but had found herself with a vampire mate. They worked similar to werewolves, only less territorial. Betty had flirted with Becca for a week before asking her out, she later said she just trusted the bond and let pheremones do the work. Becca had crashed at her place for a week straight before she even realized she hadn’t been home. Although still human, they had decided that once Becca finished school, she would become a vampire as well, on their wedding night. They had planned a small ceremony this summer.

“Tristan just….” She winces at how much longing is in her voice, “He locked me in and sealed my magic.”

Diana is relieved that the car was in park, Becca had a physical reaction, her entire body jerked as her lips curled into a sneer. “He….he WHAT?” She looks ready to punch someone and it makes Diana smile humorlessly.

She continues to draw it out, taking bites of her food. When her burger suddenly tastes of salt, she realizes she’s crying. “I…I didn’t even realize it was him at first. I was working the farmer’s market in town and he was cute, so cute, but I couldn’t even think of dating anyone right now and then someone attacked me and I woke up in this room and he walked in spouting all this s**t about mate bonds and I–” Her voice breaks and suddenly she’s sobbing, the food growing cold on her lap as she weeps. She was angry, so angry at him and at the same time, she missed him. Diana wanted to hate him, but she just couldn’t and the unfairness of it broke her.

She was so caught up in herself that she didn’t notice Becca typing furiously on her phone and then shifting the car into drive. Becca was grumbling under her breath, cursing all werewolves there and then. Diana was numb, content to hiccup occasionally as she continued to cry and watch the trees move with the distance the car covered.

Her home looked almost foreign as they pulled up. Everything was the same except for a thin layer of dust and another car in the driveway. Betty leapt from the parked car with a supernatural grace, her copper eyes flinty with anger. She didn’t speak right away, simply took Diana’s head gently in her hands and tilted it, exposing her neck and sighing with relief when she saw it unmarked. The hug they shared was the warmest thing Diana had ever felt from the woman and she wanted to cry some more at the thought.

“Are you okay…?” Betty’s question lingered in the air, the only sound Diana’s shaky breathing. When she nodded numbly, Betty continued, “Wolves are barbaric, territorial things. I’ve heard of k********g humans but to take a witch?” She realized then that was who Becca was texting, she was filling in her fiance on why Diana had not been responding to them.

Diana didn’t speak more on it, just dragged herself into her home, it was always unlocked, she had wards that protected the property, although now she knew clearly where she could and could not go. Her herb garden, which technically rested in Queen’s Claw, a pack territory, was off limits to her now; she couldn’t trust a wolf, not even Penelope, the Luna who had made a treaty with her.

Her home had a stale air to it, but still, she breathed in deeply, she was back. This was the first place Diana had lived alone, she bought it with the money left from her grandparents: a mix of savings and life insurance. When she found herself with no family left, she moved here, tucked away in nature, a place to heal and meditate on her future. She had felt secure ever since she first saw the place, thanks to Becca, who had been a new realtor at the time, it was one of her first sales. Betty had enough money for a few lifetimes thanks to her age, she knew where to invest and what would retain value, so she was always good with expenses. But Becca insisted on continuing to work, she needed something to do other than fawn over her fiance. So Betty found herself investing in properties, rentals were good incomes and it allowed her to move every few years to not arouse suspicion regarding her lack of aging. She always joked that if Diana had not found this place first, Betty would have bought it, wolves be damned.

Diana opened her fridge and frowned, her nose wrinkling at the smell and she quickly grabbed a trash bag and began to throw away the rotten food. Sensing she was in no mood to talk, Becca and Betty followed her lead, dusting and picking up around the two bedroom cottage.

She smiled faintly when she smelled seasalt and linen, Betty had lit a candle in the living room and started a fire in the hearth, giving the place a sense of warmth. They cleaned until dusk and when the moon, nearly full, began to rise, Betty glared out the window. “It’s a shewolf.” She bared her fangs and moved towards the door but Diana placed a hand up to stop her. The gray wolf stopped just at the edge of the boundary and when Diana grabbed a long coat from the closet and stepped out on her own, the wolf shifted.

Penelope was in her thirties, with shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes. Her body told the story of a true Luna, athletic, strong and lean, with a few scars scattered about from fights to defend or expand her territory. She was a widower with a son who was about four and until she came of age, she ruled the pack on her own. Diana had respected her for it at the time but now she wasn’t so sure.

Diana threw the coat to her, making sure to stay on her side of the barrier, right at the property line. The home used to be in werewolf territory, she learned after purchasing it, but the pack needed the funds and the house hadn’t been used in years and was sold off to make income, they sacrificed but a quarter acre of their land for an influx of funds, expanding the already large space of no man’s land, owned by humans or the banks after a series of foreclosures.

Penelope studied her, sniffing the air. She was looking for a sign, no doubt, of Tristan’s supposed claim to her and she tilted her head when she found none, save for the bit of his scent still clinging to her. “...He didn’t mark you?” Diana had been waiting for her to speak but she still flinched at the question.

“No.” She said simply, gritting her teeth. Penelope frowned, eyes glazing over as she mind linked someone. “River Rock is going to come after just you then, if not Silver Moon as well.”

Diana blinked, wondering what she meant, until she realized those were the pack names of Tristan’s pack and she assumed, the man who she had killed. Because she was not marked, she was not a member of Tristan’s pack, not officially claimed as his mate. The part of her that wanted him deeply stirred at that, the same voice that commanded vengeance when that Beta attacked first her and then Tristan. “Let them come.” Diana said after a moment, filled with false bravado. She knew she was royally f****d, but she would never admit it.

Penelope shook her head before staring at Diana, studying her some more. “Your healing potions are strong but the type of magic that you were rumored to have used was that of a Matriarch. Did you join a coven?” Her scent hadn’t changed, as it would when a part of a pack or a coven. Smell was how the supernatural recognised each other, even vampires smelled of their creator and therefore their clan, but Diana’s scent was standalone.

“I am the Ash Witch of Blackmoon.” Diana simply replied, surprising Penelope slightly. “I have no coven.”

“Which Blackmoon?” Penelope questioned; Diana was impressed. It was an old tradition amongst witches, one rarely used. Ash witches were rare, usually their extended family would welcome them into their coven, there was strength in numbers. Witches pooled their power together, all drawing from the same source, access limited partially by the amount of power a witch could possess without being overwhelmed and partially because the Matriarch chose who to give the magic to. Yet an Ash witch was beholden only unto her own power, she had no one else to borrow it from because she had no connection to other witches. They were usually weak, harmless, as Diana had been her entire life.

Yet waking up in that room and having her magic taken from her, she dug deeper within herself when she felt it again, tapped into something she had not felt before, someone else. Was this because of her ancestor? An Ash Witch was called by the name of her closest witch foremother.

“Annalise Blackmoon of the Black Coven.” Diana replied, enjoying the look of shock and slight fear on Penelope’s face. It was something she learned later, once her grandfather had passed. Witches were meticulous with record keeping and family trees and it was in his stacks of paperwork and books sealed in the safe that she learned of her family tree. Her great-grandmother was a Matriarch, one of legends. They say that when she sealed her magic within the flames of the Black Coven, the fire roared, doubling its light. She was the youngest matriarch in over a hundred years at just twenty and she ruled for nearly ninety years before passing peacefully in her sleep.

“You’re a blackmoon.” Penelope said blankly, the woman had seen the legal paperwork drawn up, she knew her as Diana Black, not Diana Blackmoon.

She nodded, “My grandfather dropped part of his surname when he removed himself from the coven to marry my grandmother, it was safer that way as no one held magic until me.” Diana didn’t add on the fact that when she sparked, her grandfather only taught her basic spells of healing and growth. It was the grimoire she had been studying recently that taught her other things, including transformation, which she never thought she would be strong enough to pull off, until she saved Tristan.

“Will you remain neutral?” Diana asked after a moment, “When those bastards come, will you pick a side?” She needed to know, the voice in her was demanding to hear her acknowledgment of Diana’s plight, of her newfound strength.

“I…” Penelope clearly wasn’t expecting that. “My pack is allied with Silvermoon.” Diana stiffened, she was allied with Tristan’s pack?

“Is that why they attacked me on your territory and you allowed it?” Diana pressed, not letting it go even when Penelope flinched. “You would defend them but not me? I thought we were friends, allies.”

Penelope squared her shoulders, ever a Luna, ever an acting Alpha of a pack, she knew her role and how to play it. “Werewolves have alliances, packs need to cooperate in order to avoid war. I can’t take the side of a single witch over a pack that has been allied with mine for generations. Should Silvermoon back you, we will fight. But I will not betray Alpha Tristan for you.”

The line was drawn in the sand and Diana felt her magic pulsate beneath her skin, the glow must have been blinding as Penelope flinched and instinctively took a step back. “I will not return to his pack and anyone who comes to claim vengeance for the Beta of Red Claw may meet his same fate. Tell anyone who asks.” She sneered at the look of fear on Penelope’s eyes. Diana had liked her, she had supplied them with medicine and supplies to help their pack when her husband died and this is how she is repaid, all because she was no wolf, she had no pack. “Keep the coat, it smells like a bitch.” Diana lashed out before storming back inside.

“Di—” Becca asked softly, her human ears could not pick up the conversation but Betty’s grim look spoke volumes.

“No.” Diana cut her off before sighing, suddenly revealing just how exhausted she was. “Will you guys spend the night? We can talk in the morning, I need to strengthen the wards before bed. Word will spread soon that I’m home.”

Becca’s mouth opened but Betty’s hand on her shoulder silenced her, they both just nodded. “Of course, dearie.” It made Diana smile faintly, Betty was the only one to call her that. Her grandfather spoke often with affection of his godmother, who called him that, it made her miss him and her grandmother.