Fallen

Bad Dog

"You seek my assistance, yet you toy with taboo magic? I find it difficult to understand your rationale."

The silence that followed Elijah's remark about taboo magic was thick, the kind that weighed down on words yet to be spoken. The Alphas—Alexander and Anthony—shifted under his gaze, clearly unnerved by the intensity of Elijah's eyes. Both men were proud and rarely challenged, but Elijah had a way of looking through people that made even hardened wolves hesitate. Elijah allowed himself a faint, cold smile as he watched them fumble for words.

It was Anthony who finally spoke, his voice a forced blend of authority and apprehension. "Yes, there was... tampering. But desperate situations call for desperate measures."

Elijah raised a brow, a hint of condescension lacing his voice. "So, you're telling me you toyed with forces beyond your understanding, and now you expect me to... fix it?"

The brothers exchanged a nervous glance. They were alphas, twin wolves, but under Elijah's scrutiny, they looked like pups who'd bitten off more than they could chew. "Our methods were necessary," Alexander said, his tone defensive. "This man—this boy—has slipped through the hands of our best. We've tried a witch, a dryad, and even one of our own werewolves to keep him under watch."

Elijah's gaze narrowed. "Three failed escorts? What precisely did he do to evade them?"

Anthony's lips thinned. "Every attempt was a failure. The witch tried charms and spells, only to find her efforts slipping like water through fingers. The dryad, a creature whose very essence is connected to life and magic, couldn't hold him either. She tried to use nature itself to trap him, but he resisted, somehow."

"And the werewolf?" Elijah asked, a brow raised in faint surprise. Werewolves rarely let their prey slip.

"Managed to hold him for a week," Alexander admitted, the irritation in his voice clear. "But that wasn't enough. He tried bargaining, even physically restraining the man. When that failed, we locked him in a room—a grand room, a lavish place, to make him comfortable. But each time, he found a way out, slipping past guards, picking locks we thought were secure."

Elijah couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked from one twin to the other. "You're telling me this man somehow resists magic, evades a werewolf, and has every inclination to escape. And your solution was to put him in a room furnished with velvet drapes?"

A low growl rumbled from Alexander's throat, but he stopped himself, jaw tightening. "This is no ordinary man," he said through gritted teeth. "The usual methods don't apply."

"Clearly." Elijah's gaze flicked to the silent figure of the man who had been through all this trouble. He was unassuming at first glance, almost fragile-looking with a slight build, pale skin, and eyes that darted about, as though he were constantly sizing up the best route for escape. But there was something unsettling there, just beneath the surface.

"Elijah," Anthony's voice softened, almost pleading. "It isn't just the escapes. Recently, he's been experiencing... episodes."

"Elaborate," Elijah replied, his tone demanding details.

Anthony hesitated. "His eyes—they change. They're usually red, but during these episodes, they turn to an icy blue. His voice... alters, too. It grows deeper, with an edge to it that's almost unrecognizable. And the atmosphere around him..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the man's eyes flickering with that telltale blue hue.

Elijah leaned back, thoughtful. "I see. So, you're dealing with someone who not only eludes your best efforts but may not be entirely... himself. Curious."

Alexander bristled, the wolf within him clearly struggling to contain its irritation at Elijah's tone. "That's why we need you, Elijah," he said, more forcefully. "We've done what we could."