Witch of Black Moon

Two weeks ago     Thump. Thump. Thump.      Don't give me away.      They could hear their prey's heartbeats from over ten feet away, and Stranger had no idea where the wolves were in comparison to her. Her bare feet sprang across the peat and moss as fast as they could, pale skin a ghost in the dim starlight as she propelled herself across the forest with startling speed for a non-shifter. Dark hair caught in a tangle of twigs - or fingers, grazing her from a hidden spot in the branches. She couldn't tell, and she didn't look back to find out as she felt several of her hairs yank away from her scalp.      Don't give me away. Don't give me away.      Swallowing as hard as she dared, Stranger leaped through the air like a wild jackrabbit, soaring over a wide puddle and getting to know the other side of the soil with her palms. Not daring the stop, her muscles groaned in protest as she streaked back to her feet and further into the woods, eyes narrowing against the swarm of snowflakes beginning to trickle from the sky. They stung her skin, mostly bare and covered in painted runes that were running with sweat.      She was so close to her Coven, so close to safety. If she forced herself to hold her breath, she could feel Mother Hecate guiding her towards her homestead, where she knew Granny would be squatting at the fire to roast hazlenuts. Every time her feet hit the ground, every time her palm touched a tree, the Earthspeak guided Stranger forwards, begging her to hurry.      And then she was flying, but not with any kind of miracle. Knowing she had been caught, Stranger didn't even try to hold back the strangled cry of pain as she slammed against a tree, crumpling onto the ground as a pile of snow fell onto her head. Her vision blurred from the hit, her entire body shaking from exhaustion, she almost didn't notice the hand gripping her chin. It was large and hot, and she didn't recognize it at all. Werewolf.      "Just another Trinity Witch. Put her down with the others."      Put me down? Others?      The hand tightened on her chin, and Stranger jerked her head to the side to sink her teeth into its palm. Blood spurted across her face. "f**k!" Shouted a man, and she heard deep laughter of amusement from all around her. her heart sank. They were there the entire time, playing with me. A stinging sensation struck against her cold cheek, but the winter frost on her skin defeated the purpose of hurting her. "You f*****g b***h! I'll show y-"      "Wait."      Stranger propped herself up on her shaking arms, raising her head and glaring towards the new voice. It was deeper, richer, silkier. She could smell who it belonged to, and she curled her lip out of habit as she expected the typic stink of wolfman. Instead, Stranger recoiled away from the scent of iced coffee, old books, and petrichor. She tried to blink the blood from her eyes, but it was useless - she had effectively blinded herself with her own self-defense.      Another hand grabbed her face, but it wasn't like the first. This one was just as firm, but far more gentle as it lifted her face higher, and another hand brushed the hair from her eyes. It paused when she flinched, barring her teeth threateningly. "Interesting." He gently pushed her face back down, and Stranger grit her jaw in anger as she forced herself to stay bowed. At the moment, she was on the brink of life or death, and wolves took eye contact as a challenge. Now isn't the time to act up.      "Bring her."      Stranger jerked in surprise, almost lifting her head as the wolves around her fell silent. Not even their warning growls remained in their throats now. "But Alias-" The mans voice cut off with a slight clip, and Stranger's pointed ears flicked up in interest. "Her ears..."      "I'm aware of what she is, Silvas. Just bind her, and bring her with us. I want Alpha Avea to meet her."      Stranger's head turned up then, her dark russet hair flying behind her and covering her tattered tank top. She gaped at the voices, using an icy-cold hand to slick blood, sweat, and melted snow from her face. A fierce growl came from the man who saved her - she could see him now, even in the dim light, staring down at her with bronze skin and cocoa hair with eyes to match. And the barred teeth of an angry wolfman, of course. Reluctantly, obediently, Stranger forced her neck to arch down once again. She didn't fight as Alias grabbed her wrists - she knew it was him, because he reeked of old molding paper and fermented milk. He smelled weak. It made her gag, and he paused. "What do you smell, witch?" She could see his hands. Rough and pale, but not as pale as her. Not even close.      "Leave her be," Alias snapped at Silvas, and his pale hands tightened on Stranger's wrist. She whined slightly, her head still fuzzy from being tripped by the large grey wolf that was still lounging in the snow next to her. It nipped at her ankles, and Alias snarled at the group. On her feet now, Stranger felt the blood drain from her head, a trickle of warmth going down her shoulder and her side. Her own blood. "She's been injured. Damien, you dumb dog!" The grey wolf whined. Stranger's head spun, and she felt her stomach churn. She forced nausea down, but couldn't stop her knees from buckling.      Unable to recall what happened next, the next time the young woman opened her eyes, all she could smell was a library cafe and rainfall. Instinctively, she inhaled deeply, and the man cradling her growled a low warning. "If you want to stay alive," he hissed into her ear, which was next to the shoulder she was propped against, "don't let them know you smell the difference."      "What-" Her own voice sent rocks tumbling back down to her toes, making her head soar up to the sky.     "Shut up. Don't let them know, or else."     "I don't..."      "Just listen to m-"     But her lead was already lolling back, her eyes rolling to see her own skull as her head injury dragged her under once again.