The Witch's Wolf

The Meeting

Isla

"Wolves?" I repeat. It was no shock to hear that Werewolves had established themselves in the human world, but they mainly stuck to themselves in the mountains choosing to handle issues remotely. It was rare for them to venture into the city for an appointment and even more surprising that they'd choose to seek out a known Witches firm.

Xena can feel my anxiety mounting and comes to lay her head in my lap. She purrs softly as I stroke her head absentmindedly. Ama watches as I chew my bottom lip in thought. We can't cancel now they'll be here any minute. Plus, not even wolves would be reckless enough to try something aggressive outside of their territory.

"Plenty of other non humans have come to us for guidance in the past," I finally say after a minute of silence, "We have to assume they're coming for our help and take this as a sign that the world is finally moving past the pain of the Great War."

Ama looks reassured, "Plus the ACF is extremely powerful in this region. Not to mention wealthy. It would be good for us to work with an organization of their size."

She goes back to reading off details of the case. I turn to look back out the window just as the first flash of lighting crashes through the clouds. I was right about a storm. 

                                                                                            • • •

Ezekial

I dig my fingers into my temples, willing Roan to stop pacing. I can feel all 200 pounds of him pounding against my subconscious like someone holding a jackhammer to my forehead.

"Ro, will you please tell me what's wrong? Or at least try to calm down? You're giving me a migraine." I beg.

His footsteps suddenly stop, as if he'd just remembered I could feel his uneasiness.

"I'm sorry, but something is off and I can't figure out what." He pauses as if he's figured out the source of his restlessness but shakes his head and continues pacing.

"Well what feels different?"  I pray we're able to figure it out before we reach the Seattle city line. 

He continues to throw his head side to side as if he can shake the issue out of his head, "I don't know. The wind smells weird. And colors look wrong. Not bad, but wrong. Like you're wearing glasses with a tint I'm not used to."

"You're probably just nervous about today. It's been a long time since wolves and witches have worked alongside one another. Try not to let it eat at you," I tell him, hoping that it will soothe him long enough to make it through the meeting. He dismisses my reasoning and retreats to contemplate without me.

"Roan still having a panic attack?" Conri asks snapping me back to reality. He's already begun to pour whiskey into one of the crystal glasses from the limo's mini bar. He steadies himself on the foot rail as the car slides down the wet road and holds the glass out to me. I give him a small smile in gratitude and finish it with one drink.

"Yes," I answer handing the glass back to him, "He's usually so calm. I haven't felt him this anxious since the first time we shifted together."

Conri chuckles at the memory and replaces the crystal on the shelf. He leans back into the seat and stretches his arms across the empty row. His fingertips can almost brush the ends of the bench that stretch along the left side of the cabin across from the mini bar. I sit facing him to his right on the shortest couch with my 6'4" frame nearly spilling off every time the driver hits a bump.

"You know what I don't understand? How did the beta end up on the long, comfy sofa for this three hour ride and the alpha gets stuck on the toddler bench?" I snip smacking my hand on the leather cushion under my legs. Conri throws his head back and laughs. He moves to the side and motions to the space next to him.

"You're welcome to come over here and give me a little cuddle," He says wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh shut up," I grunt as I throw one of the round pillows at his head. He is nearly in tears as the car stops on the curb in front of the tall, glass skyscraper. I gladly step out of the car before the driver reaches the door, eager to stretch my legs after the trip.

I waive off the driver's apologies and hand him a fold of cash. There's a cafe around the corner I advise him to wait at. He gives me a thankful pat on the arm before sliding back into the drivers seat and pulling away from the curb. 

Conri adjusts his suit jacket as we walk towards the revolving glass doors. He is slightly leaner than I am, but matches me in stature. The two of us together draw the attention of some of the humans lingering outside as we move through the marble lobby. 

We check in with the front desk and a suited guard breaks away to lead us to a bank of elevators. A small bell chimes as we approach and the golden doors slide away to allow us through. He waives his badge along a black panel and the button marked '15' lights up.

The doors open to reveal an office much cozier than I'd imagined. The entire floor is decorated in wood furniture and leaves spill from planters lining every window. Women sit at desks scattered amongst the open layout and a song of gentle chatter drifts towards us from every direction. There are a few offices with walls, but they are all made of glass and have their doors open.

"Ms. Croix's office is the last door on the right down this hallway," the guard says pointing with one hand and holding the elevator door open with the other. We thank him and head towards the direction he points.

A few of the women whisper and giggle as we walk past, but I barely notice as Roan has started to howl uncontrollably. I can barely keep up with Conri's long strides as the noise makes my knees buckle. He notices the pain written across my face.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks as sweat begins to form on my brow. I nod slightly and push Roan to the farthest region of my mind. He protests but I hold him back as tightly as possible, trying to focus on the name written across the cherry wood in gold letters. Isla Croix.

Conri raises his hand to knock just as the door flies back. A small blonde women with light sapphire eyes greets us with an incredibly cheery smile. She shakes our hands and leads us towards the large desk at the center of the room. 

My head is spinning and I feel like my lungs are trying to tear free from my chest. Roan claws at his restraints trying to force his way out. I focus on the floor, resisting the urge to shift into my wolf's form. My breath catches in my throat and I feel like I'm going to collapse. Then I hear it. 

A voice. It drips with honey from each syllable so sweet I can practically taste it in the air. It falls on my ears like fresh sunshine and pulls my head up to meet impossibly emerald eyes framed by two perfectly arched brows. 

"Her,"  he sighs.