173
Tony
We arrived at the mountains as per our father’s demand, but I had no clue why we were there. Matt seemed equally clueless, but the rest of the men in the van seemed to know. Matt was quiet, sitting across from me. He didn’t look like he had been hurt that badly. His eyes weren’t hazy. He didn’t look like he’d sweat at all while my clothes were sticking to me.
Something was up. I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t ask now.
As for me, I was on edge, not knowing what to expect from this. How did Cline even know where White Moon’s mountains were? How far away was it? It felt like we had been driving for hours. The sun started to sink toward the horizon. Then, the mountains started to get closer.
As we approached the mountains, an eerie feeling settled over me. It was as if the very air was charged with tension. My instincts were telling me that something wasn't right. I exchanged a worried glance with Matt, who seemed equally apprehensive.
Matt, do you know anything about this?
There was no response.
Cline slowed the van. “Where should we go?”
“Head toward the cottage.”
What cottage. He turned off the road, jostling us around then the car stopped like he’d hit something.
“Son of a bitch,” Cline growled.
Our father growled and got out of the van, hobbling and stumbling forward. I watched him, horrified and impressed. I remember what it was like when we first got cursed. The agony had been debilitating, but he was still moving. He hadn’t passed out at all.
“Get out. We’re walking.” He turned back and glared. “Wake them up.”
One of the men started to wake up the others. I got out of the car as gently as I could, careful not to jostle myself too badly.
It was so much worse than before. We followed our father through the trees and the dark toward a light in the distance.
“Hey!” He called out. “What the hell is going on?”
As we reached the area where the light was coming from, we encountered a group of women - witches, by the looks of it. But their faces were masked with anger, and I could sense the hostility radiating from them, but it didn’t seem like it was exactly aimed at us.
“You certainly haven’t changed,” one of them said. “No sense of self-preservation.”
“Let’s not pretend that you don’t need me alive.” He laughed, leaning on a tree. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“What isn’t?”
“The White Moon Pack making their own pack,” Oren growled. “They were supposed to be under my pack. That’s the deal.”
She scoffed. “Don’t blame us for your shortcomings.”
“I found you,” Oren said, his voice shaking with laughter. “Seems like Selene’s will says that this is all your shortcoming.”
Who the hell is Selene? The witches said nothing. They turned to look at each other before one of them stepped forward, her eyes flashing with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
"You have no business here. Leave, dog."
“I’ll bite your fucking face off,” Oren said. “And you know I will. Fix this shit. One of your people did this to us.”
“And why should we care about the muzzle on you?” She asked.
I felt a sudden surge of anger, but I quickly suppressed it. This wasn't the time for confrontation.
“I can think of a few reasons why,” he said. “You need me.”
Need him for what? I tried to reach out to Matt, and I felt nothing. I almost cursed.
“Need you?” One of them asked. “The nerve of you—rushing into a battle as if you are armored.”
“Aren’t I?” He asked, laughing darkly. “The Moon’s light shines upon me eternally…”
I frowned. The words felt familiar, like I had heard them before in a dream or something.
“Stop,” another one said, stepping forward. “We have more important things to deal with than argue with the mutt. Where are the two?”
He jerked his head back. “The suit and the whelp.”
The three of them turned to look at me. I went still. Then, they looked at Matt.
One of them let out a dismissive sound. “I suppose you have held up your end of the deal. Perhaps the Moon does shine upon you still.”
As we stood before the group of mysterious witches, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over me. Their piercing gazes seemed to see through me, and I braced myself. Witches couldn’t be trusted.
One of the witches, an older woman with silver hair, approached us with a solemn expression. She spoke in a low, melodic voice that sent shivers down my spine.
"You’ve really done it this time, sons of the White Moon," she said, her eyes narrowing as if searching our souls. “It would fade with time.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Oren snapped. “I have a score to settle. A schedule to keep.”
Before I could say anything, she raised her hand.
“Very well. This will not be painless.”
I flinched.
A surge of energy enveloped me. It felt like a thousand needles pricking at my skin, and I winced in pain.
My vision blurred, and I staggered, trying to keep my balance as the pain intensified. It felt as though my very essence was being unraveled, layer by layer, and I gasped for breath, struggling to endure the torment.
Beside me, our father was also undergoing the same painful process, though he seemed to be taking it with more grace than I was. He clenched his fists, his face contorting in agony, and I could tell he was far from pleased. The others had already collapsed, but I didn’t know where Matt was. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep standing. What was she doing to us? The witch continued her incantations, her voice weaving through the air like a haunting melody. After what felt like an eternity, the pain began to subside, leaving me breathless and weak. The witch stepped back as she observed the results of her work.
"You are free from the curse," she said. "Use this newfound freedom wisely, for the path ahead is treacherous."
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. The pain was fading, but the memory of it lingered.
Our father stumbled forward. I heard someone throw up and groan. My power surged through me.
Our father’s expression was a mix of relief and irritation.
"You could have been a bit more gentle, witch," he grumbled, rubbing his temples as if trying to shake off the lingering discomfort.
The witch gave him a stern look. "You wanted expedient, not gentle. Selene has no need for your weakness if that was too much to bear.”
He scoffed, his arrogance returning. "I can handle whatever comes my way."
“Let us hope that’s true.” She turned away. “Do try not to get yourself cursed again. You’re only useful when you can bite at will.”
Oren laughed and turned back. As we left the area and headed back to the van, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The curse was gone, finally, but what had they meant? Who was Selene? As we made our way back in the van, Oren's smug expression grated on my nerves. I couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole encounter with the witches and their cryptic comments. Something didn't add up, and I had a feeling Oren was keeping information from us.
"What was that all about?" I finally asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.
Oren looked at me with a smirk. "Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Don’t you feel better?”
I exchanged a glance with Matt, who didn’t seem to care, but I saw the unease in his eyes. Oren had always been secretive, but this time it felt different. There was something he wasn't telling us, and it involved the Blue Moon Pack.
"You’re going to have to give me something better than that,” I said.
He chuckled. His voice was dark and rumbling like a wolf. His eyes flashed.
“And what are you going to do if I don’t, pup?” He asked, tilting his head. “Fight me?”
The challenge pulled at me. I felt my whole body going tense as I bared my teeth. “If I have to.”
Then, he laughed. “You really are my son!”
He slung his arm around my neck. “All teeth and no bark!”
He chuckled again. “We’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s chat, hm?”
His attitude only made me more worried. Oren was unpredictable and reckless. He didn’t praise anyone lightly.
“Xavier’s whelp—David, right?”
“What about him?”
“How do you feel about painting a wall or two with his blood?”
I couldn’t help it. A surge of aggression and near-feral bloodlust rose through me.
“Which wall?”
Oren laughed as we made it back to the van.
“All of them!”
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