The Witch's Betrayal (Book 3: The Raven Chronicles

Chapter 2

Caiden

The image of my room blurs behind me as I peer into the mirror. A ghostly reflection of a man resembling myself stares back at me. He must be the devil himself with flaming red eyes—the beast vying for control.

Under my grip, the edges of the wooden dresser splinter. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and shake my head. Lucinda is on her way home; she can't see me like this. I glance into the mirror again, and the red eyes swirl black. My arm muscles bulge and my shoulders tighten as I squirm in agony over what Lucinda will think of me, of what I've done to Garcia.

But more so, I'm fearful that the beast will take complete control over me.

A light tap sounds on the bedroom door. My claws extend and dig into the dresser. I need to get control of myself.

The sweetness of cinnamon and honey drifts through the air with another round of light tapping.

"Caiden, are you okay?" Mia calls through the door.

My nostrils flare. With one last glance at my reflection, I dart across the room and crash through the window.

Mia bursts through the door and races toward the window, reaching out to me. "Caiden!"

Brushing off pieces of broken glass, I run across the rooftop, and shingles loosen underneath my feet, flying through the air to fall on the ground.

When I near the end, I spring off the edge of the roof and shift midair. My body contorts. This is no ordinary shift, the beast is vying for control. My skin peels off my body and my bones break and reconstruct.

All four paws land on the grassy ground with a loud THUMP. The forest—my escape, my salvation—is within my grasp. Shadows creep in from the edges of my vision, narrowing my sight, and the world takes on a reddish hue.

I will not lose control, not now.

I sprint to the tree line. Upon crossing the threshold of the forest, chills race up my spine and my hackles bristle. Rumors around the pack state that the woods now have eyes. Perhaps they are right. My ears pull back and I snarl. I'm being watched.

A soft hymn drifts in the air.

I prick my ears, and the melody calms my wolf. The heaviness within me lifts until my full vision returns.

Animals no longer scurry over the crunching leaves that little the floor. Birds cease their chirping overhead in the canopy, or worse, maybe they're not even there now. The silence of the woodland creatures should give me concern, but the chanting captivates so much that I dismiss all other worries.

Where is the soothing sound coming from?

Prowling through the forest like a wild dog, I burst through briar patches and tear down wild grape vines that loop over and hang from tree branches. My heart pounds. A warm liquid drips from my muzzle from taking one too many thorns. But, I pay the cuts no heed. I'll heal.

I must reach the source of the alluring hum.

My paws skid and I kick up loose dirt as I come to an abrupt stop. My cabin.

The sound is coming from within my cabin.

Smoke billows from the chimney and the amber glow of fire blazes through the window. Strange scents, a mixture of sickly sweet and hot rotten garbage, flood my nostrils.

My lips curl up, displaying my sharp incisors, and I snarl. Who dares to trespass in my cabin?

I circle the cabin and observe the perimeter. Nothing else is out of the ordinary. Time to make my presence known and see who's inside. Whoever is inside is not one of my pack. And with that stench, the intruder is no wolf.