Promised to Wolves

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I felt uneasy as our carriage proceeded through the streets of Desmodus towards the Lapidibus Veneficae. The narrow streets were crowded with hundreds of vampires, wolves and humans alike, all looking for a chance to see Princess Octavia. Their scents were overwhelming, the noise deafening and the atmosphere startlingly familiar. It reminded me of the day my mother died. And I hated it.

"Are you okay," Marcella whispered from her seat next to mine as I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore the pit of dread in my stomach.

I nodded. "I'm fine."

My eyes swept across the crowds and I froze as they met a pair of cold, blue eyes staring back at me from the doorway of a house. The human was scowling with a look of defiance on his face, but it was soon wiped off as I returned the glare with a spine-chilling look of my own, warning him that I would kill anyone I deemed a threat. His eyes flicked down towards the ground and I turned to scan the rest of the crowd.

Jolting in our seats as the carriage sped up slightly because we had passed the densest part of the crowd, I looked up ahead to see the impressive walls of the Lapidibus Veneficae ahead. The most guarded place in the city after the royal castle, it contained a small piece of untouched forest that was sacred to the witches of Thessaly. Inside was a circle of ancient stones, each bestowed with magic that the witches could draw on when performing spells in the circle.

And that was why we were here. The friendship between Santorini and the Witches of Thessaly meant the witches were willing to perform magic for us when they deemed it necessary. So, to avoid a two-day journey by sea fraught with danger, Princess Octavia was to travel through a magic portal to Lycaon.

The fortified gate was opened as we drew near and our carriage passed through the stone walls without being stopped. But, we were only a few feet in when the road ended and a densely populated forest stood in front of us, so we were forced to step out of the carriage and make the rest of the journey by foot.

As we stepped into the woods, I looked over to Marcella and noticed her body relax and a little smile appear on her lips. Her wolf was probably yapping inside of her head, excited that they could finally be in a place so wild and untamed. I could see the urge on her face to shift and, for a moment, I felt a sense of sadness. My wolf did not speak to me anymore.

The screeching of a crow made my head snap upwards and I was pulled from my thoughts as I suddenly felt too exposed. "Come on Marcella, let's get to the stones," I murmured. "You can run in the woods in Lycaon."

There was a small track leading into the heart of the woods and so there was no need to hack through the thick undergrowth around us with our swords. However, Princess Octavia still had to hitch up her skirt slightly as we stepped over puddles and mud as she tried to keep herself presentable. Marcella and I had no trouble, stomping in the mud with our brown leather boots and making no fuss.

Finally, after a five-minute trek, we reached a small clearing in the centre of the woods and my eyes were immediately drawn to the woman waiting for us. Ghostly grey skin, vivid black hair and gleaming purple eyes, she bore every feature of a witch. She wore a simple dress made from navy-dyed cotton and raven feathers and stood barefoot in the earth, her pointed teeth on display as she smiled in greeting.

"Beannachdan, Lamia Princess Octavia." Her voice was rich and melodic, sending shivers down your spine. I felt uncomfortable under her withering gaze as she seemed to be looking inside of me instead of at me. I heard a rumour witches could see into your soul and now that I was in the presence of one, I found myself believing the rumour.

The Princess gracefully bowed her head in a respectful greeting. "Beannachdan, Orlaith. My mother and father send their gratitude."

Almost ignoring the Princess, the witch bent down to take a handful of dirt. "Let us begin," she said, beckoning us to stand beside her in the circle of stones. We obeyed without question and as I watched her begin to perform her magic, I found my hand resting on the hilt of my sword. Marcella looked equally unsure and she looked at me furtively.