Fated

Chapter 8

Lucas watched as Asher sat at the desk, absentmindedly drinking his blood substitute. Asher was often a man of few words, but the words he said were often important. Seeing the communication he had with his Beloved made Lucas realize he wanted his own.

“What’s going on?” Lucas asked, unable to tolerate the silence.

“I remember the first time I felt my Beloved.” Asher murmured.

“First time? We only have one Beloved!”

“I never actually saw her. She threatened the Queen and the King had her executed. I smelled her once, and my heart came alive again.” Asher went to take another sip of his drink, not realizing it was empty.

“Only the Queen can be reborn...” The thought had occurred to Asher as well. If only the Queen could be reborn and Asher was destined to be with someone who was being reborn, was it possible?

“I need to see the witches, Lucas. If what we think is even remotely possible, they can direct us. My question to you, is, do you support your Queen or your King?” Asher looked him in the eye and waited.

“I support the Queen. She is the one who will end the war and bring peace to us.” looking each other in the eye, they both nodded, content with the other and their goals.

“I am leaving now then, to go see the witches. Please discreetly, tell my Beloved and her family I will meet her there. I need to know.”

Lucas nodded and watched Asher displace from the room. “This is going to end badly.”

*******

Asher arrived in the shadows of Art Alley. There was a small section blocked off from human vision. It was camouflaged to look as though it was an empty section being painted, but in reality, it only appeared that way. This was a small gateway into the Witches' Den, cleverly disguised.

The Witches' Den was a decent-sized building, altered with magic to fit the needs of the Supernaturals who stayed there. Werewolves tended the bars and shops, Witches maintained the property, Vampires were security, and the Fae were a renowned source of entertainment.

The exact witch he was looking for had been around longer than he had. She took human lives, typically from corrupt evil men, to sustain her life and keep her young. While the practice of this kind of magic was heavily frowned upon, all of the supernatural world condoned it since she knew all, had seen all and was very, very, powerful.

Heading towards the bar knowing she liked her ale, he spoke to the barkeep. “I’m looking for a witch, Minerva.”

Many of the heads nearby turned to look at him, mostly those who had werewolf hearing. No matter how quiet he was, he would, of course, be heard.

“Who’s asking?” The barkeep demanded, looking Asher up and down.

“The Queen Seeker.” an eerie quiet fell over the room, all eyes turning towards him. Asher didn’t flinch when three wolves lunged at him. He stayed the course, sensing her watching.

At the last second, a white light appeared around his person, causing the werewolves to bounce right off of him.

“That’s no way to treat our guests, pups. Especially one such as him.” Minerva appeared at the top of the stairs, a silver gown clinging to her form. She was beautiful. No one had ever turned her away unless they had formed their soul bond. Her blonde hair was down to her waist, gleaming silver in the light, and her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. She bit her bottom lip, looking down at him, like she always had. For the first time in his life, he didn’t smile at her. He needed answers, the kind only she could provide. This time, he wouldn’t pay her normal fee. She had done him a disservice, not telling him all. For the first time, he had come to collect the debt she owed.