Alliance of Shadows: NEIL

Confronting Dreson

Taking a breath, I went over her past in my head. For them to have treated her that way? There had to of been something more to it. The pieces of the puzzle in my head clicked into place far more easier now that there was some context to her lineage. Clara was a Witch, and now I knew her sister had been one as well. How else would Izaria carry traces of her maternal side of the family?

Everything around us fazed out as silence enveloped Dre and I. Both of us were deep in thoughts all our own. He was reconciling the information – what we now knew as a lie – given to Rowan years before. The story that said the daughter of Rowan’s brother had died.

Me? I was sipping on my beer, making a mental list of the things that would shorten the life of an Omen Reader. Isolation? Check. She’d told me there were no friends in her past. Left in the hands of a demented Witch mother? Check. Mental and emotional issues? Oh, most definitely a check. Underweight with a low self-esteem? Yeah… She checked all the boxes.

But something was missing. A critical realization that she’d been lost to the family since childhood. Clearing my throat, I cut a sideways glance at my best friend. The man I trusted with all my secrets, yet he still clung to his own as tightly as anything. “She’s alive, Dre.”

“And?” He asked. I raised a brow, waiting for his own thoughts to catch up to mine. His mouth fell open slightly, his blue eyes taking on a familiar glaze of clarity. “No… that’s… Neil, it’s not possible. What she went through should have weakened her considerably after she turned thirteen. Wait… my Uncle Raphael had a special ability. A spell that could shield the mind, forcing a person’s power into dormancy until it could be unlocked.”

I let out a breath, “He must have foreseen what would happen, and used it to protect her while he had a chance. He saved her, Dre.”

“I will never forget this for the rest of my life. Not just finding out she was born for you, but because she found her way home,” he paused, taking a sip of his drink. “Before the Elders, I want to take her to Dad. How soon can you make a surprise appearance to the manor?”

“How’s a week from today?” I countered, eager to find out if we were right.

He smirked, “Great. It’ll give me time to get my mom and Kaden in on it. If anyone can sweet-talk dad and get away with it, it’ll be her.”

Here’s some context for anyone curious enough to find out. Dreson’s mother passed the day he was born. Three years later, one of the pack Wolves ventured out to run errands, unexpectedly running into Rowan Cage, Druid King and the now single father to a toddler boy. Her name was – and still is – Celestia; maiden name: Blackmoore. After being released to be with her Mate, she married Rowan and bore Kaden, creating the most interesting hybrid that existed at the time.

How? Well, his mother is a beautiful black woman with long hair that fell in ringlets all around her and caring, motherly hazel eyes. She was a pack Warrior. Rowan was Caucasian, with mahogany hair and the same blue eyes I constantly found myself lost in. One a wolf, the other Druid royalty, and Kaden? Well, he was a perfect mix of them both.

“Let’s go back in before she comes looking,” Dreson said, his voice a mix of glee and hope.

We walked back into the entertainment room in time to see her surfing Netflix. I kissed her forehead, pulling her into my arms as I sat down on the couch. “Feeling okay?”

“Um, yeah. Just… taking it all in,” she answered, turning her searching gaze to the horror section. “How was your chat?”

“Eye-opening,” I said, purposely being shady. I didn’t do it to hurt her, but to give Dreson a chance to speak his mind.

Giving her a small smile, Dre sat down in the armchair. “Izzy, you've suffered, and it's created a clash of energy inside your body. Neil has agreed to take you to the Sacred Heart coven so the Elders can help realign your spirit. Before that, there’s some people I want to introduce you to. I know that this is slightly confusing for you, and I'm sorry to ask so bluntly, but what happened to your father?”

"He died when I was three or four. Why do you ask?" She questioned as she turned her attention to him. I felt the flicker of pain over the loss,

Dreson sighed heavily. "You're what’s called an Omen Reader. They're a rare breed of magic-user, Izzy. Powerful in ways the rest of our kin can only dream of achieving. The reason you knew me earlier was because we’re both Druid’s."

“Neil, aren’t you angry that I’m… different?” Izzy turned her head, bravely staring me down for a minute as a myriad of emotions flashed in her shimmering eyes.

“Not even a little,” I said. “After all, Dreson and I have known each other for fourteen years. I already knew Druid’s existed.”

Finally, she turned back to the TV and settled on another horror movie. This time, she picked The Conjuring. I watched with a grin as Dre turned three shades whiter. The thing was, he was actually terrified of horror movies. It was the reason why, when he got too full of himself as a kid, Colt would wordlessly put one on. It usually ended in a fight, but it was worth every tear of amusement.

I laughed as he grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly to his chest. He whimpered like a terrified child with his face half-hidden. Honestly, he looked ready to hide under his bed for a week.

Nuzzling Izaria’s head gently, I murmured, “Besides, it only makes you that much more special.”

“Does it have to be this movie?” He asked, his tone almost a whimper.

“Be grateful it isn’t Annabelle,” I declared, throwing my hands up defensively. His eyes glinted with the barest hint of his simmering temper as he cursed me out in Latin.

“Neil?” Three sets of eyes turned simultaneously to the door where Clara stood. “If I'd known we were going to have company, I would have set up a room for… Raphael?”

Dre tore his gaze from my stepmother, picking at the lint on his sweater. I had already advised him on how much Izaria knew didn’t know. Looking back up at her, he said, “No, Mrs. Dane. I apologize, but Raphael was my uncle. We haven’t been introduced for quite some time, but I’m Rowan’s son, Dreson.”

Clara sobbed, “I am so sorry, sweetheart."

“So, does that mean I have other blood relatives?” Izzy's sudden excitement shattered the tense atmosphere of the room.

My stepmother walked over; her face etched with worry. Crouching to Izaria’s level, she asked, “How are you feeling today, Izaria? You're not overwhelmed, are you?”

Suspicious, Izzy answered cautiously. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Why don’t you and I go up to my office to have a chat? It’s time you knew the truth about your origins.” Nervous, Clara wrung out her hands while she waited for Izzy's answer.

Ducking down in front of me as she rose up to leave, Izzy said, “Rain check?”

“Go have a talk with your aunt, kitten," I murmured as my lips touched her forehead. “I’ll spend time with my friend.”

Dreson sat down when he came back and handed me a beer. The smile was gone from his face as his usual seriousness took over. “Can we please pick another movie? This one scares the cazzo de merda out of me.”

The last thing I needed was to have the mansion reek of frightened Druid, so I tossed the remote his way and told him to pick out one. Of course, he picked Resident Evil. Why freaking not?

“Okay, so, we’re watching dead people eat other people? Call me crazy, but isn’t a haunted doll less likely than cannibalism?” I commented, sipping my beer as I shook my head. “Where’s the brat?”

“Consider it research. Should there ever be a zombie apocalypse, we will know how to kill them off.” He flipped me off. “Kaden is gone to the Tower for final testing, and I’m worried, but I have guys there ready to back him up. I’m just praying I got him to the point he can pass the final testing. Before you ask, Leif is fine, but he thinks his professor at the culinary school got it in for him.”

“Freaking bunch of conspiracy theorists,” I grumbled before swallowing a mouthful of my beer. “You need a hobby.”

He laughed, “I have a hobby, thank you.”

“Is it one that does not include me, your brother, my girlfriend, or your boyfriend?” I replied with a mocking tone.

Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I caught his nervous expression. He licked his lips, “You knew?”

Truthfully, I was completely unbothered by his sexuality. Especially since he was the first person to ever put me on my ass when I was a bratty little kid. Our fourteen-year friendship wasn't based on his preferences. It was based on mutual understanding, trust, and common ground. I snorted a laugh. “You’re still my best friend. Now, if he ever hurts you, I can’t promise I won’t be the first in line to kill his sorry ass.”

Laughing, he relaxed in the armchair as we watched the movie. About halfway in, he snarled in disappointment. I looked over at him as he shouted at the television. Leaning toward the T.V., he yelled, “Don’t go in there!”

“Dude, you know she can’t hear you, right?” I said as I laughed uncontrollably.

He smirked, “It was worth making your morbid ass laugh.”