What was Lost

Witch

I froze. In a second I was turned around, facing the intruder teeth bared, and a growl rumbling deep in my chest. I took a look at the person who had referred to me as "alba lupus" meaning white wolf in Latin, who in return stared at me with cutting eyes.

The man was beautiful. A god sculptured out of a rich caramel, his skin a perfect likeness. His eyes, deep and sensual were the colour of amber in sunlight and were surrounded in the darkest lashes. His hair was equally dark and seemed to glow with a faint blue light. His body was bare, except for the jeans that covered his legs. His body was toned and lean, he was an ideal specimen for perfection.

His lips began moving, and I snapped back into focus, trying to pay attention to his words and devise an escape plan at the same time.

"Change, wolf," he demanded, reverting back to good old English.

I growled. I was not going to change for this man, no matter how gorgeous he was. Besides, once I did change, I would be naked, and a much weaker, and easier target.

"Change," he demanded again, his eyes cold with fury, but then his eyes softened and het let out an "oh".

"Of course you can't change. You haven't any clothes," he chided himself and began to look through the duffel bag he had slung over his right shoulder.

The duffel back that I had missed when I was checking him out. A few seconds later, his hands came out with a bunch of clothes.

Tossing them at me he said "here, take these and change. I will turn my back, but if you try anything, if you try to run, I will hurt you," with that he promptly turned his back towards me, leaving me standing there with no idea what to do.

I could run-I was still in my wolf form. However, the power that laced his voice let me know that his wasn't an empty threat. He would hurt me if ran. With a sigh that came out as a wolfish whine, I began the change back into human.

It took longer than the usually second, my body aching from all the running I had done.

The clothes he gave me were soft, and the grey sweats were a snug fit. I wore the black shirt, then looked down to read what it said. Alongside the picture of Fred Flintstone were the words "looking for a cave girl". I couldn't help it, I giggled, which caused the mystery man to spin around to look at me, and, gasp?

"Damn," his voice was so low and husky, I almost missed the curse, but my werewolf hearing caught on.

"What?" I asked worried "is something wrong?" I asked forgetting that the man in front of me was possibly (most likely) an enemy.

"Nothing" he replied shaking his head as if he was trying to shake something out. "It's just that you're not what I expected".

I thought over what he said. What part of me wasn't expected? The fact that I was a girl?

"Yes, the fact that you're a girl, and your beau-" he stopped himself there, and I realised that I had said my thoughts out loud.

He coughed, it was more of a silence filler than a throat clearing one, and continued speaking.

"My name is Castiel. You are?"

"Ariana" I replied, uncertain of where this was going.

He hadn't killed me yet-which was good. But he wasn't pack bound either. In fact he wasn't even a werewolf. Oh, he was some sort of other alright, but not were. I voiced my curiosity, I had always wondered about other supernatural, having never come across many. Besides, curiosity killed the cat, and I was Wolf.

"And what are you?" I demanded.

He laughed, and the timbre of his voice caressed me like a lover would.

"No fear? Huh," he stated.

He was wrong. I had plenty of fear. Living through a childhood of abuse did that to a person. However, just because I knew fear, didn't mean I liked showing weakness-in character at least.

"I, Ariana," my name rolled of his tongue and gave me chills "am a witch".

I was intrigued, and he could probably tell from my hanging jaw. I had never actually met a witch before, but I knew of them.

Witches were powerful, and the more pure their blood, the more powerful they were. They could do many things, like control the elements, or bend time. Dark witches-ones who were power crazed-could snatch souls to increase their own power, and raise the dead-necromancy. Of course, all witches had the potential, but what a witch could do usually depended on their power level, personality, and desire.

Looking at the man in front of me-Castiel- I wondered how strong he was, and what he could do. Judging from the power that laced his every word, he wasn't your everyday, black cat and broomstick kind of witch. At that point, my wolf decided to speak up in my mind

"Ariana," she urged "our mate bond-it was destroyed by someone. On purpose. I don't know how they did it, but someone severed the link. See if the witch can help," she begged "I have heard that witches can manipulate mate bonds, perhaps this one can help us".

I thought about what she said, and stared again at Castiel, wondering if he would-if he even could-help.

After a while of staring at him, I realised, much to my chagrin that he was waiting for my reply.

Feeling myself blush I said "I've never met a witch before. But, what exactly is it that you want from me?" He gave me blank look that meant he thought the answer was obvious. It wasn't. At least not to me.

"I mean-" I rushed onwards, "you're not a Were, so this is not about a Pack not wanting a Rogue on their territory, so what is it?" I looked at him, and for a second almost got lost in his eyes, but when he spoke, I quickly snapped out of my trance.

"Yes, I have no Pack, but this is my Land, my Home, of course I would be interested if a Rogue showed up, a female rogue, at that," his tone was neutral, and his pace slow, he was in no hurry.

"Okay," I replied "so now that you have seen me, and talked to me, what are you going to do with me?" Maybe I didn't really want the answer, but I needed it.

"Well, first, I would like to know just how a female like yourself came to be a Rogue, and then I would like to see if there is any way I could help. You are of no threat to me, and my Mother raised a gentlemen," his voice had turned softer, and I almost felt inclined to revel all my secrets to this stranger, but common sense stopped me. My wolf chose that moment to speak up again.

"Go on, Ariana. Tell him, I sense no lies from him, and we need all the help we can get," before I could retort she vanished from my mind. She was still there, somewhere, but in a place where I couldn't speak to her.

I had a nagging suspicion that she had done it on purpose, knowing I would fight with her. My wolf was old, like every other werewolf's. I was merely one of the many reincarnations she would share a body with. She was probably right-she normally was. With that in mind, I let out a deep sigh, and dropped to the forest floor, sitting in a cross legged position.

Getting myself comfortable, I looked up to see Castiel staring at me with a frown on his face which cause the space between his eyebrows to wrinkle. I wanted to reach up and smooth it out, but I resisted the temptation.

Clearing my throat I said "well, come on down then. This will take a while to explain," watching him sink silently to the forest floor with weary eyes.

In a moment he was sitting down comfortably looking as if he belonged in that wood as much as the trees around him did. Then, trusting the judgement of my wolf, I began to tell him, in great detail, the happenings of the past few days, of how I had in the space of one day, lost a mate bond that had been there for more than two years.