Silas
The feeling of being suspended, weightless in a bottomless pit of ebony, is all I've comprehended for an unmeasurable amount of time. My wolf is dormant. My body is unresponsive. My mind—lacking in introspection and tactic. Besides the soundless darkness, nothing exists here.
I've been so careful. Well aware of the agony of the severing bond I hold with Jane and the stress I've continued to put it through, hunting my brother, knowing damn well that I was being led astray—but I couldn't just give up. At one point, I almost had my claws sunk deep into his back when Callum turned on me.
I was expecting it, as my continued mistrust never faltered after the battle at Fatality Fields for those closest to me. In fact, the last missing pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together due to their impatience. One-by-one, the picture of deceit and greed became unmistakably clear.
Despite this, I underestimated Callum's unrelenting ability to manipulate not only Dante but me backhandedly—as well. I speculated early on he had his own agenda, making him increasingly impatient and antsy—along with Mira, it seemed. But I never thought he'd make his move on me until after I took my brother out. As a result, I misread the entire situation until it was too late.
He ambushed me when I was in a precarious situation. Dante had once again vanished while we were well up in the Renegade Mountain Range—thousands of kilometres west of Sweetwater. My once thought-loyal Beta sunk his Wolfbane-tainted claws into me, sending a surge of nerve-numbing sensation through my already irate, weakened wolf.
It was then that all hell broke loose. I pulled on every last ounce of ire I could muster within me and fought. I took out shifters that had flanked my sides countless times in unavoidable battles to right our unbalanced, backassward, feral society. I looked each one in the eye as they tore through my flesh, proving their disloyalty before I snarled and angrily ended their lives. Callum ran like the little bitch he is as I finished wiping the north clean of the final traitors of my lands.
All the while, I was linking my huntsmen and faithful warriors, border control and high ranks throughout the north, letting them know that the final phase of this ongoing war is upon us.
After the battle at Fatality Feilds, I was too preoccupied with saving my mate to recognize at the time that my two closest allies were indeed my most significant threats. Thankfully after years of enduring stony lessons, I knew not to put all my eggs into one basket—despite loyalty.
I had eyes and ears everywhere—both the northerners and allies from the south. It didn't take long to catch onto the Beta's and Delta's game they so carefully kept covered. It wasn't hard to do as I was fixated on others while they happily chirped their lyrics, ratting them out any chance they got, appearing nothing shy of faithful to me. But over time, certain events began to paint a different picture. As Dante was riding my coattails, they were riding his. All three whispered in my ear, advising me on my only frailty—Jane.
Here I thought that hiding my mate in her human birth zone would be the best option when really that was what they wanted. To separate us—or rather strain our bond. To kill us from the inside out.
Once again, I had failed Jane and was too late. I was too weak. I had no choice but to flee and sanguinely recuperate by putting myself into a hibernation state. It's an ancient technique taught to me by the Lycan elders from the old world long ago. Only those of Lycan blood are capable of shutting down their entire beings, focusing on nothing but blackness until fully rejuvenated.
The problem is, I'm fated to another. I'm not only leaving her wide open for the taking but straining our connection even further by not visiting her in our shared dreams. It's been proven over the last several months that Jane is much stronger regarding our fated bond. I hadn't told her yet that Lunas have always had the edge over their Alpha. I can only hope that the people I've left in charge are with me—not against me. That my huntsmen will do as I requested and take out Mira and Callum well before they make their final move. That Dante remains captive in the north until I awake and end him the way I've planned.
All will be fine as long as no one whispers in Jane's ear playing on her warm heart. She is the only one that can overrule my word, and with me temporarily out of the game, it's hard to know what she will do.
I've tried warning her several times to be wary of specific individuals, but our soul meetings are fickle and were few and far between. It's not like having a proper conversation as the atmosphere chooses you, along with the discussion, makes navigating the reality of our situation quite tricky. Often I left Jane further confused as I spoke in code.
However, when we were blessed to meet within our dreams, I noticed her becoming less skeptical about who we were to one another as time passed. Every time I saw her again, she miraculously remembered more about our beginnings and their vehemence, leading to the understanding of the gimmick of my only way of communication for the time being.
Soul meetings are meant to be lustrous. A time for fantasy and naughtiness where fated mates encounter one another in a playful environment, not plotting ways to stay alive in the real world, but that is what our meetings were. Rushed, tense, tear-filled and dispirited. Despite that, we always made time to touch, smile and encourage each other. But ever since I made the difficult decision to hibernate, I've been unable to connect with Jane.
In hindsight, I probably should have done things differently. Still, I had no idea the intensity of the shitstorm I was in, let alone the power of being fate-mated to a human, or how my normally immense, impenetrable, witty being would suffer without Jane's constant presence. How every person I've let into my private life, aside from Jane, has done me wrong. I've been shattered and shaken like never before. And now, I've left the only person that truly matters—alone due to my foolishness.
The minute flicker of light catches my eye like a firefly on the eve of an August summer night. Zipping around the fatalness of my surroundings, teasing my stagnant state until it bursts, alighting my darkened atmosphere into an unknown environment. The weightiness of my body is welcoming, along with the awakening of my wolf. I'm far from reality, and this is not a soul meeting with Jane either.
This is something entirely different.
With every step I take, the surroundings focus, painting a vivid picture of the time and era. The crunch of the dry grass beneath my bare feet and the scents of Autumn and rain wet my panting naked human form as I move toward the rhythmic pounding of ritual drums depicting the melody of death. My breath puffs out white clouds of condensation as my sights take in the many souls I've singlehandedly killed over my hundred and eighty-seven years on this earth.
The savaged expressions and rage resonate with everyone as I pass until I'm entirely surrounded. The drums louden, and the chanting to do unthinkable things to me—things I've done to many of them—riddle the air. My eyes refuse to leave theirs, taking every snarl, spit and insult. I'd do it again, having no regrets, as everyone in this gathering deserved to meet their end by my hand. They were immoral beasts that didn't deserve to live.
The sudden heat suddenly searing my backside has me turning to see the massive flames. The stench of burning flesh and hair piqued my interest—but the sinister aura overpowers both. I'd know that demonic scent anywhere. The drums and chanting decline to a nearly inaudible tone while I move closer to the central blaze. With every passing step, daylight falls, the rain seizes, and the many beings blur until I'm left with only my brother's aura surrounding me like a suffocating veil.
"Welcome to your afterlife," Dante sneers. It's unclear where he is—perhaps he's everywhere? Allowing my sights to travel around the bizarre setting, I eventually sense him directly behind me.
"This is not my afterlife," I turn, "it's yours." I finish eyeing his scorched remnant of a body. He's blackened with soot and crusted with seared skin—missing flesh and muscle everywhere, exposing his bones—as if he were roasted and feasted on by the hounds of hell. His face is hideous, revealing his unnaturally white teeth on the left side, although he's not smiling. "I'm surprised you were even given the death rite to a cremation. However," I step closer, eyeing him with hatred, "I suspect we're in my hell—along with all those who I've rightfully sent here." He only grins as the scents and atmosphere begin to bleed into depravity I've never experienced.
Screams and howls of trepidation and agony fill my ears as the stench of rotting death infiltrates my senses. Still standing in the same spot, the hoard around me now represents my brother and his grotesque charred remains. Blackened lands and red-hued skies with flickers of bonfires light the area and the ominous creatures lurking in the shadows. "Where's mom and dad?" I question with a deadly smirk, only adding to his festering demeanour. "I'm pretty certain they'd be here—"
"We are." Turning, my mother stands taller than I remember, but just as brutal being the Trueblood Lycan she is. Similarly burned and monstrous as all the rest, she wears death well—as does my father. My sights travel to his noticing the snide smirk and hatred etched into his fiendish eyes. "Thanks to you." She adds, taking a step closer. "The worse thing your father and I ever did was conceive you and your brother. Had we not, we would have succeeded in taking the entire world, ridding the humans." Her silver eyes flick behind me, ladled with so much disappointment. One glance at Dante states it all... failing shame.
"It was Malikite after being practically paralyzed with Wolfbane and some other heavy-duty substance—" he defends as my eyes widen, and I'm in disbelief at what I'm hearing.
"You were in Pineton?" My brother's discomfiture turns to remorse as he eyes me. "Jane? What the fuck did you do—" I have him on the scalding ground adding more pain to his already crispy body, but he only chokes, clawing at my forearms as I strangle the death out of him. "If you have hurt her—"
"Why do you think you're here, Silas?" The tone of my father's bellowed haunting voice sends shivers down my spine. From my first memory of the shifter, I've always been frightened of him. He was never a loving, caring father. He was a brut—resenting Dante and me for taking his life—figuratively speaking. He decided to mark and mate my mother—resulting in the conception of his spawn.
It was never our fault we were born, but we were regularly reminded through routine beatings, tongue-lashings and punishment how he resented his weakened moment of passion. "She's dead, and as a result of your pathetic impulsiveness, so are you." The happiness licking his words has my heart hammering, my soul screaming, and my fists flailing.
Laughter from my parents only intensifies when the tears begin to drip down my face. Rage like never before fills me anew as I'm charging my father, only to be yanked back by an invisible hold cuffing my wrists and ankles, slamming me to the burning ground.
The searing fresh flesh fills my senses just as the burn has me screaming with agony. "Jane!" The howl in my voice is fatally vigorous as I plead. "Jane!" I holler over the chanting and drums that surface once again. Black vines emerge from the cinders of the sporadic fires, creeping closer to my body before curling their razor-sharp thorns around my limbs and throat. The act only infuriates me more as I eye my brother.
"I'm sorry," he grabbles out weakly. My lips curl, revealing my dripping canines. "I-I just wanted to feel what it was like to be Alpha of the North—"
"You're a backstabbing coward," I spit, cutting him off. "I loved you and wanted what was always best for you, Dante." I creak out as the vines tighten, pulling their blade-like spikes further into my throat. "You betrayed the only one who cared for you—and for what? This? Eternity in Hell with the parents I ended to save you?" His bloody eyes wallow in guilt. "They had you on your knees, ready to take your life over your lack of sovereignty, and I took theirs so you could live." The unmistakable taste of blood fills my mouth as it begins to cascade out through my lips, meeting my crimson tears.
"Yeah!" he fires out, "that's the point, Silas. I always played second-best to you," he snarls, stepping closer as my fist continues to flex against their hold. "I'm the eldest, and down here, you are powerless. I will remind you of that from here on out... as will they."
The many faces from my past come into view, all smiling in their sinister ways before lowering with expressions of revenge. "I'm so sorry, little one," I whisper while uselessly fighting against the mythical hold I know this to be.
I'm no doubt lost within my head.
Dying.
Fighting for my last breaths as the bond between Jane and I has all but severed completely. It's been too long; fail to mention that my previous encounter with Callum's minions ripped me raw. I knew that the pack I had devised to hunt Dante was divided. When Callum made his move, I sent my loyalist after the Beta, who fled thinking I could easily manage the dozen remaining shifter, not realizing Wolfbane would be part of the slaying party. Needless to say, I limped my way back to safety, depleting all I had before sinking into hibernation.
Only... I'm too weak to overcome my wounds and the already untethered the fragile bond I share with my mate.
"I'm so sorry I failed you, little one." The first bite I felt at the side of my ribs had my back arching as the flesh was torn off in anger, followed by many more as I continue to pull against the invisible restraints and blackened roots with its dagger-like thorns. "No!" I growl while my wolf tries everything to phase.
With my fists clenched so tightly, I swear I've popped veins in my arms from the force until the softest touch and sparkles of luminous warming embody my entire being sending the darkness surrounding me into a brilliant blaze of life and vitality. Inhaling deeply, I scent her ambience—as do many others, it seems. The growls of discontent and holds release as her hand slips into mine, securing our linked fingers before pulling me from the ravenous hoard.
"Jane?"