The Lost Elixir

Chapter One

"It's probably someone from a neighborhood pack," Ronan said. "You know, Alpha Vance wants as many people for Tʋnʋp as possible."

Rayne swallowed back bile at the thought. Tʋnʋp. War.

"Dad must think whoever this person is can help us defeat Ambrosius," Rayne murmured. At that point, it would take a miracle for Moonshine and any other pack to defeat the ancient vampire lord. So, whoever her father brought into the pack must be worth keeping.

Amira shivered. "I'd rather you not say his name, thanks."

"Scared, Mira?" Ronan mocked.

"Shut it, Ronan. Or I'll break that pretty face of yours."

"Aw—you think it's pretty?"

Before Rayne could turn around and tell the both of them to shut up, she caught sight of the large gathering of her pack surrounding something she couldn't make out. It didn't take long for Amira and Ronan to catch on and flank both of her sides in a protective shield, just in case something was to happen. Though she hated how seriously they took their roles of being Beta and Gamma already before their parents stepped down, she didn't have time to voice her annoyance. Besides, it was helpful in pushing pack members out of the way.

Gazing through the throng of people, she caught onto a head of wild curls the same umber shade as her own. "Ezra!"

The head turned and her gaze clashed with eyes that had her exact shade of cinnamon, freckled with specs of gold. He stood towards the front of the crowd at their father's tall height and waved her over with an ebony hand. Though he was a year younger than her, he towered over her in height. She thought being five-foot-seven was perfect; but in times like those, when she was surrounded by groups of large people, she wished she were much taller.

Ezra's fingers found Rayne's wrist after she reached out and he pulled her towards him. The cheering of the rowdy pack disoriented her for a moment, and she wobbled against Ronan, who helped steady her.

"Chim achukma?" Ezra asked, plucking a shard of grass from her shoulder. He wanted to know if she was okay, but she didn't know how to answer that honestly.

"Yeah, I'm good. What's going on?"

"You'll see soon enough," he murmured, gesturing over to the reason behind all the pack jitters. She followed his line of sight, her curiosity at its peak now. Something in her stomach dropped and she was suddenly staggering backwards.

It took a lot to surprise a woman training to take over for alpha. She had to be unsuspecting, pessimistic when the time permitted it, and always stay on guard in case the worst happened. She trained physically and mentally for it five days a week because she had to prove how ready she was to her father when he deemed her fit enough to take over his position. Rayne had to be controlled, focused. If she focused hard enough, she'd rarely be surprised. Therefore, an attentive alpha.

For the most part, Rayne lived by those rules. She trained her body, learned to control her mind when she needed to concentrate, and mastered the art of suspecting almost everything.

But no amount of training could have ever prepared her for the half-bare man with alabaster wings being dragged forward by her father. Much to her shock, he was bound in chains of iron that burned bloody bruises into his wrists and ankles, his beautiful, intricate wings beating weakly like thin glass. Swirls of liquid gold wrapped like a serpent around his upper right arm in tribal designs and shimmering glitter coasts underneath the mossy strap crossing over his well-defined chest. What further pushed her surprise was the loathing settling in the fog of his misting, almond-shaped eyes. There was no pupil nor iris in the white haze, but by the firm set of his jaw and the furrow of his eyebrows, she knew a glare when she saw one.