The Reaver Chronicles: Raziel (Book 1)

Chapter 5

On the way back my mind was racing. I couldn’t keep it quiet even if I had tried. On top of my insistent guilt over Eric’s death, I was also thinking about my Demon. We passed an old abandoned wishing well in the forest, and I couldn't help but remember the first experience I ever had with him.

I was 9 years old. I was living with my mother in a small, cozy cottage just on the edge of the Obsidian pack. It was close to where I currently live now. We weren't part of a pack back then, it was just us. Me and her. Thinking back, it was a little strange that we didn’t live in a pack, being Wolves and all.

I never knew my father and my mother never bothered to bring him up. I figured if she never did I wouldn't either. He was a forgotten staple in our household, but I preferred it that way. My mother always used to say that we were strong and didn’t need anyone to protect us. I always believed her. Honestly, what I wouldn’t give to be able to hear her words of wisdom just one more time.

She always told me I was forbidden to go to the well. She said it was too far away from our cottage, and to go alone would surely mean death. I never felt unsafe a day in my life as a child, but she insisted that we were never truly safe. Not out here. She’d always say we weren’t safe living outside of a pack to begin with, but would never approach any pack to try and join. It never made sense to me. She always used to say that we’d be fine around the house, but there were many creatures lurking in the forest.

Most of which wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. I believed her, even though I had never personally seen another soul around here, creature or not. I couldn't help my curiosity, and would always try to sneak away to the wishing well… unsuccessfully, I might add. My mother was around 5 and half feet tall and had long blonde hair to the middle of her back. Her facial features were soft and alluring, which matched her personality. She was always kind hearted, willing to help anyone who ever needed it. Always the first to offer her services. She had an athletic build, as most Wolves do, and the most beautiful platinum silver eyes I had ever seen.

They were even prettier than my own. I swear though, those silver eyes were like hawk eyes, because she caught me every single time I tried to sneak off, and made me come back to the safety of our home. One time I somehow managed to escape her watch. I cried out in surprise when I reached the wishing well, alone, and realized that she hadn't caught me.

I stood there in awe, admiring the scene before me. The wishing well was absolutely beautiful up close. Stunning, large, multicolored stones made up the main shaft of the well. Complete with a dark stained wooden arch, harnessing a single rope and a matching stained bucket which could be lowered down into the well. It looked as if the elements had never touched it. I could smell the clear, crisp, stream not far away which fed the well.

The trickling water sounded like heaven as it danced through my ears. I knew that the water flowing in the stream was a light turquoise blue, my favorite color, so it would make sense that the water in the well would be the same color.

But my curious child mind had to know for sure. I walked over to the well and allowed my fingers to run along the smooth surface as I peered down inside. I was leaning over the edge to try and get a better look and see if my theory was right, when I pushed up a little too hard and fell straight down into the well. I felt my head go under the cool water and I held my breath.

I opened my eyes underwater to realize it, in fact, was turquoise as I had thought. I smiled and surfaced soon after. I knew how to swim so I wasn’t in any danger of drowning, at least not right away. In fact, I knew a lot of things, including how to defend myself. My mother never let me be unprepared for anything. I can't recall a time when we weren't training or learning something new. She overcompensated in that fact a little.

At least I used to think so, back then. I guess when you live alone outside of a pack, you never truly feel safe. Even with the abilities she had, there were always risks and I was always made aware of them. As I bobbed up and down keeping myself afloat in the crystal-clear turquoise water, my mind was racing. I was stressed out and trying to contemplate a way to get myself out of here.

I looked at the walls surrounding me, and they were all perfectly flat, as if molded that way intentionally. As if all the years of corrosion and elements hadn't laid a finger on a single stone. There were no hand holds, or jutted stones I could use to put my feet on. Nothing that could possibly help me escape this watery prison I found myself in. Panic began to flood through my chest. I swam to the base of the well, running my hand along the outside edges just to see if there might be some sort of secret way I could escape. But it was no use, just as I had expected. The edges were perfectly smooth.

I held my breath and dove back underwater, swimming down as far as I could, but even with my eyes open, I couldn’t see any type of exit down here. I couldn’t even really see to the bottom of the well. I surfaced and caught my breath, trying not to panic further. I was trapped. "My mom is going to straight kill me if I survive this.'' I said out loud. My voice sounded meek and frail, muted out by the large stone structure I was entrapped within.

"Then we might as well get you up and out of there, don't you think, little one?" A voice that sounded like liquid gold, purred from somewhere above me. I froze. That sheer and utter terror that grips onto you when something unexpected happens, tore through my chest like a freight train. I thought I was alone… but apparently not. The shock and terror that flooded my chest quickly started to dissipate, and I snapped out of it just long enough to look up. Standing at the top of the well was the most gorgeous man I had ever in my life laid eyes on. At the time I didn't appreciate his beauty as I was too young to care about trivial things like that. But looking back I can see now what I missed back then. I also knew he was tall but not specifics, he’s actually 6’ 3”.

He had golden blonde hair that was cut into different lengths down to his shoulders and it seemed to sparkle in the sunshine. His body was chiseled and defined, I could see parts of his muscles peeking through the black button down shirt he was wearing. His facial features were perfectly symmetrical, high cheekbones and perfect porcelain skin free of any marks or blemishes.

He had the most beautiful golden colored eyes that seemed to glint and shine, even as far away as I was from him. I had no idea who or what he was, but I knew I should be afraid… I was afraid. Just the way he was standing there, silently, screamed power. I watched as he set down a gold suit jacket, which he had just taken off as he started to lower the bucket down to me. He was going to save me… I think…

Once the initial shock began to wear off, and I actually registered the color of his eyes, the panic came flooding back full force. He wasn't just a strangely beautiful man, he was a Reaver… I should have known immediately, but I knew now. I could tell by the way he was literally dripping in gold, that should have been my first clue. All Reavers have eyes the colors of precious metals and voices just as silky and smooth. They usually tended to wear their chosen color as well, which this one had definitely chosen gold.

It's like everything about them was made to entrance you and lower your inhibitions... Reavers weren't only powerful, they were the most powerful creatures in this world. It was said that they possessed some of the powers of all the Supernatural beings, plus a few of their very own. My mother hadn’t told me many stories of Reavers, but when she did speak of them, it was always in a hushed tone. Almost a reverence, and I never understood why. She never explained when I would question it, either. Who was I to question such things at my age?

My mind flitted back to the dangerous man up above and I looked again to realize the bucket was almost down to me. My heart was racing, beating completely out of my chest. I swear if I had stayed still long enough, you could have seen the ripples in the water from how hard it was thumping. I wondered if Reavers ate children. Or if they liked to eat scared children.

Being 9 years old your mind tends to run a bit rampant, and I had watched too many scary movies to think anything but the absolute worst. The closer the bucket got to me, the worse the tightness in my chest became. Even through all of my stress and panic, the only thing I could focus on was the fact that I was trapped down here, in a beautiful watery grave.

Trapped in an impossible situation, and one of the most deadly creatures in the entire world was waiting for me. He was either going to be my savior, or my demise… and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out which. The bucket finally reached me but I was spinning. My mind wouldn't quiet down long enough for me to make a rational decision. I didn’t have to get inside… I could just stay down here. Right? I knew I was trapped no matter what I did… And if the Reaver didn't kill me, my mother would. At that moment, I didn't know which thought was scarier. It was a lose-lose situation.

I hesitated and looked back up at the Reaver who was waiting for me. I hadn't even reached for the rope and bucket yet. I still wasn’t sure if I even would. He seemed to be waiting patiently, but why wouldn’t he? He knew I had no other way out. “Take the rope.” He said. The way his voice sounded as it echoed between the flat stones and nestled its way into my ears, struck enough fear into my small body that I listened. Immediately, I grabbed the rope and climbed into the bucket. I had no other option and we both knew this. I guess if this sealed my fate to death, then I was dying today. All these thoughts, and many even more irrational than those, flashed through my mind as I was being pulled up. My fear started to rage out of control as I was getting closer to the top.

I inhaled slowly and looked up, catching his eyes again before quickly looking away. I had never seen a Reaver in person before, and definitely hadn’t ever been this close to one. From everything my mother had taught me about Reavers, I never wanted to be this close. I just kept replaying my death over and over while trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall down my cheeks.

After what seemed like forever, I got to the top and the Reaver reached his hand out to grab me. I had no idea what to do. It was like all of my lessons my mother had taught me went straight out the window. I completely froze up. I swear I wanted to fight and protect myself, but I didn't even flinch at his touch as he grabbed my arm and helped me down from the bucket gently.

Surprise overtook me when both feet hit the ground and I was still very much alive. So much for being able to take care of myself, I thought. "There you go, little one." He said softly, ignoring my very obvious fear towards him. I didn’t reply, unsure of just what I was supposed to say. Thank you for not killing me? I mean, what do you even say? What do you even do? I was pulled from my internal panic when the Reaver spoke again.

"Now how did you manage to get all the way out here anyway?" His voice was soft and gentle. I assumed he was trying not to scare me even worse, which confused me as I was expecting my throat to be ripped out.

I knew better than to believe his silky lies though, this was how they get you… fake trust. I couldn't even bring my mouth to speak. I just stood there, staring at him, fear struck, still trying to hold back the tears that I could feel trying to burst through. I should have ran… I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, or cry or yell… fight… anything but stand there frozen in time like a helpless i***t. I was torn from my panic when he turned around after putting his suit jacket back on, and locked those deadly golden eyes straight onto mine. I shuddered under his fiery gaze. He was so f*****g intense. He may not even have to touch me to cause my death. Can you die from panic or shock? My heart was beating so hard I thought it might rip through my ribcage and escape.

Once I snapped out of my temporary stupor, I realized that his eyes were like molten gold. The color seemed to be moving within itself as if his eyes themselves were actually molten gold, and it was being poured back into itself. His expression when getting a good look at me was confused at first.

He raised one eyebrow as if he was trying to figure something out. Then something that resembled realization crossed his features, followed by surprise, as he looked past me into the woods behind us. I had no idea why he was surprised, so I turned to look at what he was looking at, when I heard a deafening growl.

I covered my ears just as a huge silver Wolf with eyes just like mine, platinum, jumped from the trees and charged straight at the Reaver. Panic, again, flooded my chest as I realized that this was my mother. How did she find me? I mean, she had to have known, this was the only place I would have gone. But still, I was very shocked.

I wanted to scream, and yell at her to run, or do anything to stop my mother from attacking from fear of what he would do to her. But I was frozen in place, riddled with fear, once again. I was completely terrified, and forced to stand there and watch, helplessly. To my surprise the Reaver didn't move an inch. Instead, his face hardened.

Every feature he had was outlined as if he were chiseled straight from stone. His golden eyes darkened to almost black. He put out his right hand, open palm, and threw what looked to me like a fluorescent green fireball at my mother. It engulfed her, and the force of impact knocked me back onto my ass. A green string of light and fire stayed attached to his hand as if it were a rope. Wherever his hand moved, my mother inside of the fireball, moved with it.

Just as I thought he was going to throw her back towards the forest with a flick of his wrist, I finally gained my composure and screamed as loud as my 9-year-old self could. My scream wasn't filled with legible words. Instead, it was only a sound. One full of raw emotion, laced with fear and despair. He stopped and looked directly at me. We locked eyes and I knew this was my only chance to try and save her… I overcame my fear in order to beg for my mother’s life.

"Stop!!" I cried, taking a step towards him. His hand stopped mid throw, as he narrowed his eyes onto mine. I had no idea where I got the courage to continue to speak, but I knew it was life or death at this point.

"Please, no… please put her down. She’s all I have! It’s my fault she’s here! I snuck away from home… Please don’t hurt her." I pleaded. I knew I was rambling, but I tended to do that when I was panicking.

I forced back the lump in my throat, as a single tear rolled down my cheek.