Tangled With The Fated Mates

Motionless

Nira turned to face Denzel, left hand supporting a towel, right hand running through her wet hair with the towel. Her lips parted to speak, but she drew in a breath and paused; she strode towards him and, looking deep into his eyes for a moment, was finally ready to talk.

"I saw it," she said cryptically, still looking into his eyes without breaking eye contact, "but you knew that already, so I'll just assume you asked that question out of a place in your mind that doesn't want to believe that Reid just lied to your face."

"You know I don't doubt you," Denzel said firmly. "I just want to know what you saw."

Turning away, she walked towards the closet, leaving Denzel motionless.

Dropping the towel wrapped around her body as she went in, she said over her shoulder, "I had the vision early this morning just after I woke up."

At around 5 a.m. that morning, just before Denzel had returned, she had woken up pressed and had headed into the bathroom to pee. When she had finished taking care of business, she'd stopped to splash some water on her face, looking in the mirror above the washbasin as she did so.

Her thoughts suddenly flashed to Denzel; something was happening that directly or indirectly affected him.

She felt that familiar heightening of all her senses. Her ears picked up the drip-drop of water dripping from the faucet, then the tick-tock of the wall clock in their sitting room, the thud-thud of a woodpecker somewhere in the woods surrounding their home.

Her nostrils flared, and she could pick up the distinct molecules of scents in the air. She could focus on the tiny drop of water trailing toward the washbasin drain. Sensory data came rushing in from all around her, and she opened her mind to it all; he hair stood on end. Her head felt increasingly lighter, and a light in the center of her mind seemed to grow brighter and brighter until it filled her mind, her entire consciousness then seemingly blank.

She'd heard the sounds. First, the patterns and thuds of paws against moist soil, then she'd seen it, the fleeting glances of fur through the green foliage, fur markings that matched Denzel's Beta. She'd seen other wolves, too.

They exuded darkness, their auras foul, they were in league with the Beta, and they were chasing after something, someone. Blood, trails of it on the foliage, on trees leading into the dense dark underground, the smell of the blood driving the pursuers into a frenzy, the scent of the blood:

Denzel's breathing quickened, her trance deepening. She hadn't seen his face, just flashes of his maroon fur and silver-tipped tail. She'd seen the pursuers corner their still faceless quarry. Her vision shifted, and somewhere out of a dark background, a house of cards tips and crumbles. She'd been returned to the vision, and she'd seen the wolves circle, fang bared.

Then they'd all pounced as one, a dark shadow or gnashing fangs and ripping claws. At that moment, she'd seen Denzel's face. Somewhere, a giant Redwood crashed to a forest floor, and then she'd snapped back to reality, her trance over.

Her throat had felt dry, and her breathing was shallow and quick. She'd been covered in a cold sweat and had run to the kitchen and downed an entire bottle of water at once, then leaned over the kitchen counter and sobbed. She knew what she was, a Banshee: a harbinger of death. She'd just seen her lover die, and it had been at the hands of his most trusted pack member and its leading elders.

Granted, it was a mere vision, a foreboding of what could happen, but that didn't stop her from being this shaken – she'd swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath – because if she'd seen it, that meant there was a high chance for it to happen.

There was a high chance for the person she loved with every fiber of her being to be killed violently by the only other person he trusted the most. She'd finally calmed enough to a stage where her heart no longer felt like it'd fly out her chest, and her breathing had evened out. She had then gone to answer the door because Denzel had arrived home.

They'd gone to bed together, had made love, then slept off in each others' arms until she'd woken up again late in the morning and got out of bed to start her day.

"Reid has plans to have you killed, preferably by his hands, but he has sourced other hands to join him as he knows just how powerful you are."

Denzel couldn't believe what he'd heard. As she'd narrated everything to him, he'd been mad, hurt, shocked, sad, then angry again. Was Reid planning to kill him? Reid wasn't just lying to him; he wanted to attack and kill him.

By now, they'd both dressed up, with Nira sitting on the bed while he half leaned and half sat on their dresser, his back to its mirror. His anger was building. He buried his head in his palms for about a minute, then snapped his head back up and pushed against the dresser, mad to storm out of the room. He'd show Reid who he was planning against. He'd show him!

"Slow down, big dog," the voice came from his mind, and he turned to look at Nira; she was looking at him intently.

"Calm down; tact will solve this better; you know better. His plans have been made clear to us; hence, as they affect you, you are now rendered null. Dealing him with a slow, long death would better serve you than the quick one you were just about to storm off and go give him."

Denzel paused. He never could argue with her reasoning. Damn, he loved this woman! So slow death, then. An idea struck him. He knew what to do now. So, as a course of action, he picked up his phone and dialed an essential member of the pack, one of the oldest ones alive, the closest friend his father had and who he had come to recognize as the nearest person he had to an uncle. He would listen to whatever Denzel had to say, and he was the only one Denzel could come close to trusting at the moment.

"Hey, Denzel, quite unlike you to call without occasion."

"Well, there is a reason for this phone call. I was hoping you could inform the entire pack that there is to be an impromptu general meeting tomorrow at nightfall, and it's of great significance. Ask that everybody be present."

And in the way of explanation, he added in a lower tone, "Reid is to be punished and banished; he's finally gone and crossed the line."