Ghost-an apparition of a dead person which is believed to appear or become manifest to the living
"Momma?" I utter, my jaw dropping down to my feet as her glowing white body floats into the room. I stare on in horror at my mother, her see through hair fluttering around her along with the folds of an ancient looking robe.
"Derrick I'm telling you I saw it," Laurel growls, appearing in the hall with my twin in tow. "I saw a bloody fucking-." My brother's mate immediately comes to a halt when her eyes latch onto my floating mother.
"Ghost!" Laurel shouts, pointing a trembling finger at the arisen visage of my mother before flopping onto the floor like a dead fish.
"Holy shit!" Derrick gasps, falling on his knees and pulling Laurel into his lap as Ryder startles awake with a loud snort.
"What's wrong now?" my mate grumbles, leaning up in the bed and dragging most of the sheets with him. "I swear y'all better be starting shit for a good reason or I'll-."
"Oh no," Ryder grumbles, a mix of disbelief and slight nervous laughter escaping his mouth as his eyes latch onto our floating visitor. "This is so not happening, I finally got a bit of sleep and now there is a ghost haunting us."
"I wouldn't call it haunting young man," Mom drawls, flicking a rouge lock away from her face. "This is far more important than scaring the living right out of their drawers."
"Yep, that's Mom," Derrick says, making Mom jerk around to face my ridiculous brother holding his limp mate in a bridal carry.
"You young man are in a heap of trouble," Mom scolds, shaking her finger in disapproval at my twin. "Letting that damn Rouge King catch ahold of your scent. Now, I know you were trying to protect the Coven of Elders, but you could have done it without setting his ass on fire."
"It wasn't my fault," Derrick grumbles, brushing back Laurel tossed hair from her face. "Serena had a tantrum and lost control of her magic. Like the time Molly tried to levitate her dolls, got mad when they fell, imploded the doll house, and made Laura sneeze a stream of electricity in Dad's face."
Mom whips her head right back around to me and Ryder, her eyes narrowing at me as if I were a cockroach who dared enter the sanctity of her pest free home. I swallow hard, keeping the blankets bunched around my shoulders. Hiding the fact that my only sort of clothing at the moment, is one of Ryder's large T-shirts. Of course, Ryder wasn't helping much with his instinctual reaction to my mother's perusal. Twinging his big arms around my waist and pulling me straight against his chest. Throughly revealing my choice of clothing, and the several series of miniature hickeys on my legs.
"If you want someone to blame Mom," I utter, puffing a wayward violet strand out of my eyes. "Blame this mountain of testosterone for setting off my "temper tantrum."
"Is that so?" Mom drawls, floating on over to the very edge of the bed. "I would love to know what this young man did to anger my child."
"He tried to do the old throw the unwilling bride over the shoulder manuver," I answer briskly, instinctively slapping Ryder's hand for trying to grope my thighs at that exact moment. "But his aunt showed up and dragged us to her house, were Mr. Grabby here tried to blame me for our parking lot brawl."
Mom just rolls her eyes, her nearly translucent gaze showing how unsurprised she is at my embellished retelling of the meeting of me and Ryder. "I see," Mom drawls, before waving her hand and teleporting to the center of the room in a show of static sparks. "And that is exactly why I am here."
"You see," Mom begins, waving her hand again and creating a glowing white circle in the vent of the bedroom floor. "Derrick was taken in by the Coven of Elders, after the destruction of our pack and his escape from his captors. That attack was caused by the same Rouge King your brother accidentally blasted with his magic."
Goosebumps run through my body, a cold oily feeling traveling up my spine as a nightmarish snarling man's face appears in the center of the circle. Lanky blond hair lines his weathered face of tan skin layered with white ropey scars on both cheeks. Appearing to be perhaps fifty years old, his venom green eyes seem to pierce into my own, just like the two young men on either side of him. Both at least in their thirties, one his mirror image, except for an untouched face and dark blue eyes the shade of a jewel toned sapphire. The other, a dark to his light toned features, all pale skin, shadow dark hair, and eyes a chilling ghostly gray.
"This is Titus, the Rouge King of the North," Mom drawls, expanding the circular image of the scarred man. "The blond is his oldest son Kronos and the other male is his nephew Sameal. Though the young males are in Europe, Titus has already called for them to join him in attacking Coldwood."
"But why?" Derrick cuts in, strolling on into the room and laying Laurel down on the edge of the bed. "Why did he attack the Coven? Why did he destroy our pack? Why did he take you and Dad from us?"
Tears blossom in my eyes, matching the streams of angry drops dripping down my twin's cheek. Sensing my sorrow, Ryder adjusts his arms and wraps them around mine. Gently placing his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck like a wolf with her pup.
"Because Derrick," Mom sighs, waving her hand again to summon an image of all five of us kids. "You are Purus Lupus as you well know. Pure werewolf blood since the beginning of our race, bearers of limitless magic that is as wild as our ancestors. It is that power Titus desires to control, even if it means putting all of you in chains and forcing you to do as he bids."
"I must go now," Mom utters, her voice slowly going faint as the circle disappears. "The Moon Goddess is powerful, but even she cannot keep alive what is meant to be dead. I love you kids very much and I am proud of all of you."
Mom raises her hands above her head, the sleeves of her robes billowing from the breeze of a phantom wind. Spirals of gray light twine around her like the bodies of coiling snakes. We watch open mouth as the tendrils encapsulate her, before a blinding beam of light erupts. We shade our eyes with our hands, looking away from the glowing beacon until the light fades and we are left with a dark room devoid of our ghostly visitor.
YOU ARE READING
The Rouges of Coldwood(Rare Breeds #1)
Werewolf🐺"I'll let you go for now, but the next time we're alone you will be paying for that cheap shot you pulled," he says with bared lust in his tone. I feel my cheeks become hot as a frying pan, Madame Rozetti just shakes her head with a slight smile o...
