Morlana woke in a dimly-lit, circular hut made of thick canvas and a sturdy wooden floor. The unfamiliar weight of blankets and a lack of outdoor clothing set her on edge as a headache pounded in the back of her skull.
She sat up in a panic as it all came back to her in a flash: the vampire attack, waking up in a cave filled with men draped in animal fur, and finding her familiar.
Her familiar. It was almost too good to be true.
Morlana frowned and flopped back onto the pillows. It was too good to be true. Witches' familiars were always animals and she clearly recalled a scruffy, unshaven man. He might have looked partially animal with his huge stature and rippling muscles, wearing moose skin like a mantle he was born into, but he was definitely human.
Her thoughts drifted to the whimpering grey wolf laying in red snow. That was what she imagined a true familiar bond felt like: the instantaneous kinship, protectiveness, and trust that radiated between her and the wild beast the moment they locked eyes.
Anger flared in her chest as she remembered the triumphant smiles of the three vampires. Those smiles had every right to haunt her nightmares after killing the one hope she had at returning to her family.
Tears pricked the witch's eyes. She clutched her mother's pendant to her chest. She had no idea exactly what kind of spell her mother cast into the necklace, but powerful magic had a tendency to echo into other living creatures if disturbed.
Live wild woodsman or dead wild beast, there was no going back home. Her family, alive or dead, had sacrificed their futures to give her this chance and she blew it. Morlana knew this failure was unforgivable.
The clearing of a throat interrupted her wallowing. Morlana gasped and sat up again, only to find the topic of her thoughts sitting across the room with arms crossed over his chest.
Though she could feel the low hum of a bond, she was sure the glare the man shot her way meant they were not on friendly terms.
His untrimmed beard was thick, hair looking as if it had been hacked into shape by a dull knife. He appeared to be in his thirties, though the hardness behind his eyes and the stress in his stance made it hard to tell exactly how old he was. He was tall and lanky. Despite his proportions, strength oozed from his pores and she could feel a wildness trying to break out from under his skin.
His grey eyes met hers once before glancing away, running his hands through wavy black hair before scratching the base of his neck. The uncomfortable gesture seemed out of place against his combative stature.
Had he been watching her sleep?
For some reason, the thought was comforting instead of frightening. Morlana's squeezed the pendant in irritation, frustrated that her imbalanced power interfered with even her one of mother's more powerful spells.
"I don't appreciate waking up in a strange place every time I pass out." Morlana snapped. Her irritation fell flat as her voice trembled with withheld tears and embarrassment.
She needed to put as much distance between her and this man as possible, before the Familiar bond grew in strength. There was no way her unreliable magic was capable of protecting a human when she couldn't even defend herself from the vampires.
She cleared her throat and continued when he didn't flinch at her tone. "First a cave, now a strange cabin. I demand you take me to the nearest town as soon as possible. I need to be on my way." She looked down at the black nylon of her thermal wear. "Who the hell changed my clothes? Did you manhandle me again like in the cave?" Her voice rose to a very unintimidating pitch.
"Yurt." He interrupted her rant.
"Excuse me?" Morlana looked at her companion in confusion.
"It's called a yurt, not a cabin." He said, his voice rough but quiet. He spoke slowly, carefully, as if he wasn't used to conversing. "No one changed your clothes. I just took off your outer gear. It was...damaged."
Lana spied the puffy black coat she had bought for her northern excursion, if she could still call it that. The arms and back had been clawed open. Large portions of down and insulation were falling out of gaping holes in the black fabric. She thought she spied dried blood on the open hood. The coat and bandage around her head were pretty damming evidence that she had been in trouble, yet he asked her no questions about it.
The young woman's face flushed at how ungrateful she must have sounded. Her temporary familiar and his friends had saved her from freezing to death after all.
"I suppose I owe you thanks for not letting me freeze to death." Morlana knotted her hands nervously.
The hulk of a man merely grunted in response.
Awkward silence fell between them. The human was too calm to have seen any of the vampires that attacked her and didn't broach the subject. Instead he glowered at her from across the room like a predator contemplating its next move.
Morlana twisted the blanket in her hand waiting for him to say something, but it was clear her yurtmate wasn't much of a talker.
She wasn't ready to explain anything yet either.
"What's your name?" she asked to break the silence. It was unnerving to sit awkwardly with anyone, especially a stranger that she was partially bound to.
His mesmerizing, grey eyes looked away. "Mordecai."
"That's biblical."
Lana caught a brief twitch at the corner of Mordecai's mouth, but it was gone before she could blink.
"Yours?" He asked.
"Morlana, but you can call me Lana." She silently cursed herself for the friendliness in her tone. She needed to cut and run before the vampires looking for her killed Mordecai just like her familiar, and she was certain that is what the grey wolf was to her.
Mordecai nodded as if confirming something. "I have questions." His grey eyes peered into her soul.
She paled, panicking over what he might have seen when he rescued her, not to mention the flash of magic he witnessed in the cave while she fainted.
"What happened?" He pressed.
She didn't know where to begin.
Lana knotted the blanket with white knuckles, her mind scrambling to find a way to explain what he might have seen. Blood on the ground, the overturned sled, her hired guide dead just a few feet away?
The images were gruesome to even her spotty memory of the attack.
What could she say? An animal attack? No one would believe that and she wasn't a good liar to begin with.
"In the cave?" She waved the pendant casually, giving a lie she had heard one of her siblings use before. "Just a trick piece of jewelry. A new type of hidden self-defense tool. The light is supposed to startle any attackers once activated."
Mordecai looked at the necklace, face harder than stone. "I'm talking about how you were found."
"I don't remember," She hedged, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape.
Mordecai crossed his arms. "You seem to recall the details of our previous encounter perfectly fine."
Lana was still floundering to respond when the yurt's door slammed open, revealing an older man who rivaled Mordecai in size and bulk.
Though he carried dignified charcoal hair at his temple and blue eyes instead of gray, it was clear the man was related to Mordecai. They shared the same sharp jawline and serious brows. Even their angry auras felt similar.
"How dare you take this whore to his home! Have you no shame, or did your jealousy of your brother finally override what little sense you had left?" Roared the newcomer.
"Please calm down, Father," Mordecai said, standing up from his chair. "We need her to understand what happened."
Morlana was insulted by this man's accusations towards both her and Mordecai. The newcomer felt unhinged, wild in a way even Mordecai's untamed appearance couldn't compare. Her magic responded, leaving burn marks where she held the blanket.
The old man's anger shifted to Morlana. "Tell me," he spat. "Why did my son die instead of you?" Crossing the room in three quick strides, the man pulled her from the bed by the forearm onto the yurt's wooden floor.
Morlana's eyes widened at the sudden physicality of the situation and the new information that someone had died while rescuing her. She glanced at Mordecai's impassive face in confusion.
"Stop!" Mordecai lunged forward to release Morlana from his father's bruising grip. He pulled them apart by the wrists, placing himself between her and his irate father.
The older man breathed heavily. "Are you challenging me, boy?"
Mordecai dropped his father's hand as if it burned him, briefly tilting his head to the side in some weird gesture of deference.
He hastily looked away from his father as the hair on his arms bristled at his contact with Morlana. He eyed the witch's hot fingertips with such scrutiny the girl wasn't sure whose sake the separation was for.
The cooling sensation of Lana's power being drawn away made her feel oddly safe despite the situation. At least she didn't have to worry about revealing herself with an accidental explosion while being forced around the yurt.
"If anyone is to blame for Max's death it is me." Mordecai said before letting go of Lana's wrist. Though his words were calm, his posture was not. She could feel the tension coiling his muscles in preparation to defend himself.
Lana really hoped it wouldn't come to violence. She hated to see people fight.
Mordecai's breathing struggled and his fists clenched with internal struggle to keep calm. "I was the one who challenged him to a duel out of bitterness and pride. It was my choice to step in and save this girl though we were injured, and my choice to suggest that Maximillian do something reckless."
"You should have been the one to pay the price," spat the older man. "If you were not the only one left to carry on our bloodline, I would kill you."
Morlana gasped in horror as the older man struck his son across the face so hard Mordecai stumbled backwards.
The father's anger remained unappeased. "Even after I cast you out, you jumped at the first chance to cause problems for this family."
"You were the one who raised him to think he was invincible." Mordecai spat back, earning him a punch to the gut. Rage and guilt coursed through their bond.
"How dare you accuse me." The greying father struck his son again. "You will never be half the man your brother was. You always fell short and your incompetence finally killed him."
"What would you have me do, Father?" Mordecai asked. "I am only abiding by Maximillian's final wishes. He gave his life trying to save her."
"Unlike you, my son wouldn't have been so foolish to risk his life for a mere stranger!" This time the man aimed a kick at Mordecai's chest.
"Please calm down!" Morlana yelled, trying to get the pair's attention. "I understand your feelings of loss, but there is no need for violence." She shook when the two violent faces focused on her.
Mordecai's father's rage was so great, nothing but a snarl escaped his mouth before rushing toward Morlana so quickly she had no time to react.
The witch found herself thrown like a rag doll across the room. Morlana narrowed her eyes against a concussive blur as she almost fell through the wall of the yurt, realizing such strength was unnatural, supernatural.
In her limited experience, other supernaturals were trouble, no matter the species. Most supernaturals hated witches, some even going so far as to hunt them or forcing them into servitude.
Energy crackled in her joints as her magic perceived the elevated threat. She quickly hid them behind her back, praying her curse wouldn't give her away. She most definitely did not want to reveal herself now.
Lana wasn't even startled to hear an animalistic growl coming from Mordecai. Her hazy mind had been piecing together what she remembered from her rescue, the locations she awoke, the two men's impressive builds, strength, and their short tempers.
They had to be either werewolves or worse, Lycans.
Noticing the red seeping through Lana's bandaid, Mordecai released a roar so loud it shook the yurt. His skin rippled as he moved protectively between Lana and the older man, changing from taking his father's blows to grappling with the man.
Lana's legs buckled as she tried to stand. The room spin with dizziness, making her curse. The panicked noise was enough to distract Mordecai, an uppercut sent him crashing to the floor. Never one to use mercy, the older man pounced on Mordecai, drilling blow after blow onto her familiar's bloody face.
Lana struggled to focus. She felt a black fog at the edge of her vision. She could not afford to black out again. She had to stop this senseless beating, or Mordecai might die and her soon after.
Lana knew it was a terrible time to attempt a spell, but she had little choice. Real or fake bond? She had to try. Just one small piece of magic before she found a way to separate from Mordecai forever.
There was no chance she could get between them physically. Despite her inability to focus and absolutely no faith in a positive outcome, Morlana raised her hands at the men and uttered a phrase she remembered from childhood.
Her magic left her smoothly, leaving behind a sense of satisfaction with her casting Lana had never felt before. Her heart swelled with the sliver of hope that her mother was right. A bond could control the magic.
That sliver was quickly dashed when nothing happened. Lana made another attempt to stumble forward, only to have the sound of fist hitting flesh disappear.
The old man took another swing, only to miss his son by centimeters. The distance grew slowly to an inch, and then two. He looked down in disbelief as his torso slowly defied gravity and was forced into the air.
Morlana sagged with relief, even as maintaining the spell drained her energy. The simple levitation she cast was meant for the manipulation of small objects. Hefting an enraged, 200 pound supernatural was pushing the limits of her magic. Lana feared the backlash from casting a more powerful spell over her own exhaustion.
The old man's eyes flashed a manic yellow before giving his son a murderous glare. "A witch! You brought a witch among us, into your brother's home? I may not be able to kill you, but you will take the punishment for breaking the law."
His focus turned to Morlana. "You cursed my son; you bewitched him to die. You must have twisted his mind into risking his life for a she-devil. You led the vampires right to him."
"I am sorry for your loss." Morlana said carefully. The strain on her magic and throbbing in her head had her words slurring. "But I never saw your son and I never expected anyone to save me." She looked over at Mordecai, who refused to meet her eyes, focused on resetting his broken nose instead.
"Lies, all of it," Mordecai's father said. Two more burly men burst into the yurt. "Put me down, witch, before my men make you."
Lana grit her teeth. She wanted to tell him she would plaster him to the ceiling until he could calm down enough to discuss facts, but she could feel the power of the spell fading already. She didn't have the clarity or strength to defend herself from multiple attackers and knew she was lucky that at least one spell didn't implode.
The girl looked helplessly at her familiar's shoulders as she gently lowered the older man to the floor. Whatever came next, she would just have to trust in Mordecai and her bond.
Her faith was misplaced. Mordecai stood stiffly and left the yurt without a backward glance.
The new men surged forward, each taking an arm in a tight grip. One stuffed a dirty handkerchief in her mouth until she gagged.
"Make sure she can't cast anything," ordered Mordecai's father. "I don't want her playing any tricks to escape." He bent down and smacked Morlana so hard her neck cracked as it swung to the side.
"This is just the beginning of your retribution." He said with a cruel smile as Morlana's consciousness faded. "For both you and my sorry excuse of an heir."
As the men at her sides dragged her limp form out into the cold, the only thought that crossed Morlana's mind was how sick she was of losing consciousness.
Word Count: 2795