Alpha Wolf Protector (Wolf Shifters 0f Wakerlin Book 2) Page 6

  Marco lifted her off the floor; her small body lost within his hardened arms. His mouth crashed into hers and Amelia kissed him back. It was so alive, so full of energy and meaning that she didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want it to be their last.

  “Marco,” she whispered as his lips traveled down to her neck, “promise me you’ll come back.”

  He cupped her cheeks, and he must have caught the tears pooling in her eyes, for his voice came gentle and assuring, “I won’t let those bastards snatch me away from you. I’ll run back home, Amelia. I’ll come home to you.”

  Amelia felt her heart explode, her chest close, and limbs numbing with the rush of feeling. She opened her mouth, inhaling a few jagged breaths, and felt Marco nuzzling her hair. His fingers traced the shape of her lips lightly, meandering up and down, and finally pulling away.

  He strode to the far end of the room. And Amelia longed for the weight of his arms around her. Their absence was a hollow ache. She lumbered slowly behind him, her steps slow and unsteady. When they were at the threshold, he held her hand, fingers intertwining, and kissing her briefly on the lips. Gently, he slipped his hand away, his face slowly turning, and body striding away. Amelia’s fingers hovered in the air. His gray eyes, the last sight that met her vision, before she lost him to the world outside.

  * * *

  Amelia was slumped on the floor, legs drawn up, and arms curled around them. She was in her nightwear now but felt no desire to sleep. It had been hours since Marco had felt. Hours since she’d eaten or drunk anything. The thin carpet had become her permanent residence, the spot where she spent her time simply staring vacantly at the wall across. Everything seemed so pointless now. While Marco fought his way out there, she was locked in her apartment like some sniveling, doing nothing. Amelia wanted to be at his side.

  Outside, the city was sleeping. Faint yellow light leaked through the windows at the wings of the room, filling it with a peaceful quietude. Moonlight splayed across Marco's face as she sat, mind buzzing with tiredness. She shut her eyes, trying to get away from the confinements of her room, from the grimness that soaked the very air to the tiny dregs of sleep. Her mind hanged on the very edge of it, lost far away from reality when a crash pinched her ears.

  Amelia’s eyes cracked open. Head still spinning with drowsiness, she glanced ahead. Tiny shards of glass sparkled all around the floor. Her vision began to blur, and Amelia crawled away from the open window. A dark silhouette danced in front of her eyes, and she rubbed sleep away from her eyes. She kicked hard at the man standing only a few inches from her, and jeering laughter broke out at her side.

  There were more men in her apartment. Cold fear crawled up her skin, wrapping tightly across her neck, and Amelia fumbled for any weapon around her. Her fingers curled around a broomstick, but before she could lunge ahead with it, a cloth was pressed at her mouth while someone else tied her legs. Amelia kicked at the approaching hands, but they were tough and strong, and none of them even bulged from their position.

  “Stop squirming, pretty lady.” A vile face closed into hers, yellow teeth curved into a grin.

  Amelia jerked her head away, shuddering.

  “I can smell that bastard in the air,” another voice broke out from the edge of the room.

  “Where is he, then?”

  “Must be somewhere close. We should better hurry-”

  “Take the woman into the truck then.”

  “Roger.”

  Amelia’s body landed into someone’s hairy arms; her head propelled over his sturdy shoulder. Sweat licked the man’s shirt inside out, and Amelia gaged. Bile rose in her throat, and she clapped a hand over her face. There was no use struggling against the man’s rock-hard grip, and Amelia submitted noiselessly, silently wishing that Marco would come back.

  But Marco was gone. And deep down, Amelia knew that there was no purpose hoping for him to return. She had to figure out some way to escape herself on her own. She had a faint idea that these hairy men must be the part wolves’ who were after the orphan wolf, and so she was determined to gather as much information she could before running away.

  Amelia only had herself now. But it was enough.

  ***

  Hair stuck slick to his forehead as Marco scanned the area. The air had turned suddenly still and absolutely silent. Marco could sense magic breathing under the very folds of the wind. To any outsider, it was just another part of the forest. It was another spot to move past. But the malice here pulled Marco’s legs sharply to a halt. He wheeled his gaze slowly around. Under normal circumstances, it was a matter of only a few seconds of uncertainty, and he would have stolen past the dense spells. However, this…was certainly his brother. All Borris's work.

  Marco flexed his fingers, head rock-still. He focused his eyes upon the earth, and suddenly felt the vision gradually shift. There were deep, black marks carved into the ground; Circles encrypted with spells of the old magic. It was something people would have forgotten now. Marco studied spells for long hours during his teenage years under the tutorship of Wakerlin's former mage. He knew even the oldest of tricks well. He worked on a counter spell in his mind, sensed the words leap to his lips, and dash to the still air in front.

  Sunlight sieved through the leaves overhead, casting shadows spirally on the ground. However, the moment Marco’s lips halted in anticipation; the yellow ball overhead turned charcoal-black. The world was entering thick black darkness. Marco sprang to a huge tree ahead with his back against its trunk. He slipped into the shadows and smothered himself.

  A few paces ahead, a pair of teil werewolves guards stood tall. Marco stuck his ear out to listen.

  “Hunt and the men are bringing the girl back in the afternoon-”

  “Remind me again, how long does Borris intend to stay here?”

  “Hardly a week. Possibly less, since the word is that the girl is picking a lot of paces. Something peculiar about her too.”

  “I know nothing about that, pal, but she sure is a spunky thing!” He laughed, and added winking, “And beddable!”

  Marco caught himself gagging. Sometimes men could get so gross talking about women, but this was his woman they were describing. Rage filled him and he forced himself to focus on the task.

  The sound of hooves caught Marco’s ears and he craned his head, gaze fixed ahead. The world rolled down under his feet. His lips turned pale; all color drained from his face. Marco let out a feeble gasp.

  For ahead, right next to a broad-chested man, stood Amelia.

  ***

  Amelia was walking back to her cell when a deep voice across the mahogany door startled her. The door ahead was isolated. It led to Borris's private chambers. However, it was not exactly the tone of the voice that had knocked all air out of Amelia’s chest. In fact, it was the name that so angrily uttered.

  Instinctively, Amelia pressed her ear to the door; body crouched low to avoid any attention. There was a curtain hanging beside the doorframe, and Amelia lapped the dense cloth around her torso carefully.

  Inside, a fierce conversation was taking place.

  “We don’t have much time! I want your men to be tracking Marco day and night! The last I heard; he was already heading out of Antigo!”

  “Lord Borris, you must understand it is the Wolf Mage we’re dealing with, surely we can be given more leverage-”

  “Hunt, it would serve you better not to intercept my demands. I want his head by tonight. In case you fail to live up to my order, that big head won’t be a part of your body any longer.”

  Amelia could imagine Hunt’s face flushing into silence, lips pursed, and eyes hooded.

  “My Lord,” there was another strange voice addressing Borris now.

  “Yes, General Toda?”

  “That girl is Marco’s soul mate, then?”

  “Hmm. Of course, she is. The scent gives it away.”

  “Lord Borris,” Hunt spoke, his voice brisk and emotionless, “Can we be certain that Amelia is up for your grand t
ask? There’s hardly anything peculiar about her – no powers, only a simple, plain girl.”

  “Amelia Hunt,” he said, “She’s the granddaughter of the great mage Aisling Gowan. Werewolf’s blood flows in her veins, though, unyielding yet still pulsating with a dark power that only needs a feeble tap.”

  The ground gave away beneath Amelia’s feet. Were they talking of Grandma Gowan…wolf mage? Amelia pressed her ear, even more, deeper into the door, mind only focused on their dialogue exchange.

  “So-so she is a werewolf then?” Hunt’s voice was incredulous.

  “Hmm…a dormant one.”

  “My Lord, I still don’t understand how it connects her to the task at hand.”

  Borris let out a slow, deep sigh.

  “My magic is going to achieve a new phenomenal level, Hunt. With Marco's soul mate under my power, I'll exploit Marco's most desired object. Dig out his biggest weakness of love. And thwart him for good this time."

  Instinctively, Amelia’s hand clapped her mouth, as a loud yelp escaped her lips. It was preposterous. Everything that she’d heard these past few minutes was way beyond her comprehension, way beyond anything normal. Wasn’t it already horrifying that Marco was a werewolf? Now had to be one too? And Grandma Gowan, who’d seemed too scholarly and sensible, was also a Wolf Mage? Amelia couldn’t believe her ears. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground, back stuck to the wall beside the doorframe and legs drawn up to her chest.

  Suddenly, a hand clutched at her braid and pulled her from behind the curtain. Amelia felt a sharp pain shoot through her head.

  “I found her!” The man shouted to someone inside. “She was spying on you.”

  “Bring her in,” Borris’s voice was grim and stony. A piercing fear rippled through her body, as she was dragged forward as her body flung on to the carpet.

  “Well, well, Amelia,” Borris sneered, “I believe we need to have an interesting chat.”

  Amelia gulped. Borris gave a sideways look at the attendants, and everyone else standing still in the magnificent chamber, and said, tone dripping with authority, “Everyone out. Now.”

  Men bustled out through the doors hastily. Amelia felt Hunt brush past her, his hand momentarily pressing her hand. He knew the consequences of her act all too well. The fact that it was going to be something so horrible as to scare big, hulky Hunt made Amelia sink even deeper into the ground.

  Soon, everyone had filed out of the chamber. And the space between Amelia and Borris stood still and silent. Borris surveyed her curiously, and Amelia stared into those blasphemous eyes – eyes that breathed a color precisely like Marco’s, much to her shock.

  “Why do all of you have gray eyes?” She blurted out, and caught a surprising emotion flutter across Borris’s face, his lips curving into a sly smirk, “Because we’re all family, dear.”

  A blood-curling scream split the air. Borris’s eyes grew wide in shock, and he glanced quickly at the door. A loud crash boomed through the windows. Amelia clutched at her ears and found ropes bounding her wrists and feet. Ahead, she caught Borris muttering some spells. That bastard.

  He dragged her bounded body to the far end of the room and stopped before a secret passageway. But before they could slip past it, the front door burst open and a familiar voice coursed through, “Hiding’s over, Borris. Leave her alone, and I might consider sparing perhaps a few lives.”

  Amelia’s breath hitched in her chest.

  Marco had finally arrived to protect her.

  ***

  Marco was in his werewolf form now. A glimmering milky-white fur coat kissed his robust, sinewy body, a thick tail brushing the ground, and eyes stirring strange energy as always. He sheathed his teeth, point-sharp fangs catching the light, and his ruddy lips drew into a sly smile.

  Borris was standing right in front as the color drained from his face, fingers flexing in preparation for the ensuing encounter. Marco stole a glance behind him. Amelia crouched on the floor, limbs tied, and features were withdrawn and pale. They locked gazes for a single moment, and then Marco pulled away, his attention refocusing on his enemy.

  “So, any answer for my generous offer?” Marco shot Borris a lop-sided grin, already imagining him pissing his pants in fear. “Hurry up, Borris, the clock is ticking!”

  However, Borris sustained his silence. Spells leaped to his lips, and his mouth continued twitching. He gritted his teeth every once in a while.

  Marco’s eyes narrowed to slits, brows raised in incredulity, “No? Well, I’ll take your silence as utter stupidity. You never learn, Borris.”

  Marco lunged forward, his feet lightning-swift. And Borris dove at the same time. Their bodies collided, knocking each of them a step back. They engaged in a hand-to-hand fight, Marco’s talons hit the air ferociously, searching for any revealing skin, while Borris countered every blow with a spell. It was intense, both adversaries dueling to kill. Borris sprang at him with a jinx, and Marco craned his head just in time to feel its heat whizz past his neck. He blinked past Borris’s body and caught Amelia being shuffled through the door magically.

  “Amelia!” Marco kicked Borris in the ribs, causing the other man to hit the floor and bolted to her side. But suddenly, her body slipped through the folds of air and completely vanished. Right in front of him stood Borris once again, an evil smile playing around his mouth.

  “Meet you at the palace, Marco.”

  Marco grabbed for his neck, but all his paws caught was heavy, empty air as Borris, too, disappeared completely from sight.

  ***

  Wakerlin Kingdom

  “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we disclose to you the most horrific news of the century. Our very own, Marco William Farkas, first-born of the esteemed Louis George Farkas, and the Wolf Mage of our kingdom has committed a most blasphemous sin. Despite being a royal, a pure-blood, he’s fraternized with a local woman. And hence…”

  Marco's father, the former Wolf Mage, stood rock-still behind Borris’s eyes hooded and head bent low, “He’s henceforth banished from the kingdom, and may never return home.”

  Marco glanced around him, aghast. Eyes wide, and heart beating rapidly.

  Borris. That fucking bastard. But before Marco could utter any loud protest, an authoritative and calm voice broke the ensuing silence,

  “Greetings, my humble people. I am Amelia, granddaughter of the late Wolf Mage, Aisling Gowan, and I would like to remind Lord Borris of the blasphemous sin he has committed right now by calling upon such an abominable fallacy.” The whole crowd stilled around him. People gasped, bringing their hands to their mouths, too shocked to believe their ears. “I’m by blood a legal member of the Wakerlin pack and a royal. And therefore, qualified to become the soul mate of our Mage, Marco Farkas.”

  Marco glanced up at her, amazed by her brave words. He took a step, heading over to the stage to join her. An arrow split the air and dug deep into Amelia’s chest. People fell into chaos around them. Marco’s feet lost the ground beneath them, his eyes shocked. He sprang forward to her side and cradled her body in his arms, her blood staining his hands.

  “Amelia,” he pleaded, “please, hang in there.”

  “Marco,” the light was fading from her eyes, and Marco gripped her waist even tightly, “Marco, you have to bite me…”

  “W-What? No! No- no –no, Amelia, I can’t bestow this monstrosity upon you as well.” Marco shook his head, tears streaming down his eyes.

  “It’s the only way, Marco. I’ll die otherwise. The wolves have incredible healing powers – I can recover-”

  Her breath caught in her chest, and lids closed shut.

  Marco raised her head to his mouth, tears pooling his eyes, and dug his fang in. Amelia’s body rapidly squirmed as energy poured out from Marco’s mouth and rushed into her body. Before Amelia could say anything, Marco brought his lips to hers, clashing mouth to mouth, teeth to teeth, heart to heart. Amelia kissed back, fingers digging into his back, and Marco slid his arm around h
er, pulling her in until their bodies sealed together, legs bound around each other. For a breath of time – Marco’s mind was silenced. In that single moment, there was nothing to consider. Nothing to contend with. Because now, there was no care in the world that could bother them. Nothing to interfere with the rhythmic song beating in their hearts.

  Epilogue

  It was the fifteenth of December, a Saturday morning when Amelia at looked herself in the mirror, and a mixture of surprise and an unbounded elation passed over her face. She looked beautiful. She was clad in a white, pearly dress with intricate stonework across the narrow bodice and white roses slept at the huge train of the dress. An elegant snow-white fur coat was draped around her bare arms, making the dress even more beautiful.

  As Amelia looked out of the glass window, she could not help but admire the beautiful shades painted across the sky on her wedding day; livid threads of mirth melted with the orange shafts from the golden ball, entangling to form a delicate mesh across the vast sky. Removing her head from the captivating view outside, she, slowly and gradually, recovered her emotions to make her nervous senses calm, stepping out. A chill gust of wind slapped across her face, making it glow, allowing a crimson shade creep up her fair cheeks. As she motioned forward, towards the altar, she could feel the heat of the glare of the millions of people perched on either side. A nervous feeling gripped her, and she began to shiver. But as she looked up, a heaven-like view met her eyes. Marco…Oh, she thought.

  The powerful look in his piercing, gray eyes glinted in the sunlight. His strong jaw-line fell under a shadow from the sun, with his hair set in the perfect spikes, the light brown shades glowing golden under the sieving rays of the sunshine. He wore a black frock coat with a jet black bow secured at the tip of his neck. He looked charming. As soon as their intense gazes met each other’s, the whole world melted around Amelia.

  Now, there was only she and Marco. The fierce colors sketched across the sky, glowed more intensely as if singing to their passions. A warm, proud smile played around Marco’s lips with a crease at the tips of his lips, making it evermore enchanting. It seemed like golden rays of zeal emancipated from their souls, reaching out, like the desperate fingers of the drowning towards its savior, meeting at a juncture, melting into each other, entangling, glowing more fiercely; their hearts entwined together. It was a moment of eye-stilling surprise, heart-melting passion, and heaven-wrecking love, unbounded and eternal.