The Alpha and Her Beta

Chapter Thirty-Three: Aura

Chapter Thirty-Three:

Aura

The tension in the air was quickly rising to a stifling level. Delta Ferguson's regret was plainly clear. She flinched, not having expected such a reaction from someone as wounded as I am. A frown pinched her lips, and they trembled a bit. Almost as if she was forcing herself from speaking up. Fear flashed through her eyes as she clenched her fists, taking a step back.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, already knowing her answer. She was already too frightened, and already ready to quit. What a waste of a good atmosphere.

"If you aren't planning on giving her the fight she wants then I'd suggest just bending the knee and getting all of this over with." Kanjax suggested from behind me. "We have other business to get to today."

A few moments of silence ticked by before she spoke up once more. "I'll need a few moments to speak with the others."

I waved her off, turning around to see that Grandpa Aaron had arrived. "Guard the gate, I'll go and speak with my Grandpa."

Grandpa Aaron stood beside Cerys in his human form with his curly black hair and green eyes. A little ways behind him I saw an old woman with short white hair and deep evergreen eyes. She toted a thick and long white robe with red accents, a robe worn by most white witches who specialize in healing magic. I noticed that there was somewhat of an air of familiarity about her, so I must've been healed by her once or twice before.

"I see you've been busy." Grandpa Aaron commented.

I didn't need to guess what he was speaking of. He was mentioning the tattoo that recorded how many I've killed. As the original caster of the magic he could sense how it changed and shifted. He knew just how many ghostly skulls painted my back now, he probably sensed as each seventy-two of them formed on my back.

"Always am." I muttered. "Lands to conquer, alphas to trick."

"Hmm." He murmured. "We can talk once you look like you don't have one foot in the grave." With a wave of a hand the old woman came forward.

She didn't bother to say anything, but looked me over instead. By the sneer that tugged at her lips she didn't look all too pleased with what she saw. I must've looked worse than I thought. She took a few steps forward and placed her hands on my shoulders before closing her eyes.

I could feel the difference between the magic of one born to heal verse those not born for the task immediately. When her magic flowed into me it was like a warm, gentle caress. Something soothing and kind, a caress that ebbed all the aches and pains. My tensed muscles relaxed as I sighed, the pain flying away. I could feel as my wounds slowly knitted themselves together, all my wounds righting themselves in mere moments.

When she released me I looked down at my wounds, testing them out a bit. I took a few steps and stretched out my arms, not feeling any resistance from the wounds that I just had. There wasn't a single twinge of pain of protest at my movements.