Fallen (BoyxBoy)

Prelude: The Cost Of A Witch's Help

A/N This chapter is written in 3rd person, but the rest of the book is written in 1st person.

Prelude: The Cost Of A Witch's Help

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Looking over her shoulder, Kiya found it hard to breathe. Her eyes stung as all that could be seen in the distance was the blanket of grey smoke that had formed above a rapidly burning forest. The angry flames engulfing the leaves stood out against the dark like neon lights. She was too far to hear it anymore, but the sounds of horrified screaming, growling and gunshots still rang in her ears.

"Mama –" The quivering, soft voice was the only thing that managed to tug her from the horrible view of their pack's destruction that had her completely transfixed.

"Come," she said, her hand tugging him along to draw him away from the sight as well.

"Where-where are we going?"

"To a friend." It was a lie, but she could not get into explaining what was happening to the seven-year-old. "We have to hurry though, Kendrick. Run, okay? Can you keep up?"

"I'm faster than Daddy sometimes," the somewhat offended reply would usually have made her smile, but this time it just caused a sting through her nose as her eyes burned at the mention of Kendrick's father, her mate. He didn't know yet, but she felt it.

"You are, Baby. Follow me."

After they shifted, she lifted the bag that she'd been carrying on her shoulder from the ground and began to run with it clutched between her teeth. Kendrick's speed was indeed impressive for his age, and even as a small wolf he stayed at her side without much of a problem despite his mother running at top speed.

They slowed after a few minutes of sprinting so fast, everything around them had become a blur including the sounds of nocturnal animals. They had reached the cottage near the river Kiya was looking for. She shifted back to human form quickly and threw on the dress that was in the bag before helping Kendrick into an oversized t-shirt that belonged to his father. It was cold, but there had not been time to grab anything else.

She moved to knock on the door but it swung open before her knuckles could make contact, as though the person inside was already expecting them.

There was no one near the doorway, so Kiya assumed the witch wanted them to enter and tried to do so but a small hand grabbing hers caused her to stop. Looking back down at Kendrick, the little boy shook his head, his wide-eyes shifting between the hallway in front of them and his mother. She tried to give a reassuring smile, softening her eyes at him.

"It's okay." He did not seem too sure about that, but the assurance from his mother was enough to make him follow her into the house.

Kiya moved towards the only opening that had light spilling from it into the hallway and stepped into a warmly lit room that had two couches facing a very old, boxy brown TV. The room felt sinister as it was decorated with odd-looking sculptures, trinkets and bottles filled with liquids that Kiya could only guess were potions. The curtain on the far side of the room was heavy, undoubtedly blocking out any light even during the day. On one of the small, sand-coloured couches sat the person she was looking for.

"Hello, Adaire," Kiya greeted bowing her head slightly while still standing tall.

The witch stood up from the couch and stepped towards them lifting her greying brows. She could have used a spell to make herself look younger, but seemingly chose not to despite using one to keep herself alive for far more years than witches naturally lived. She looked about seventy-years-old in witch terms but did not seem at all frail.