-- The Witch in the Garden — Hollow Falls Botanical Conservatory, Midnight --
The glass dome of the abandoned botanical conservatory was cracked in places, letting moonlight seep in through spiderwebbed panes. A soft mist clung to the wild, overgrown plants that had reclaimed the marble paths.
Lucian moved silently between the shadows of tangled vines and crumbling fountains. He could smell her long before he saw her—the faint scent of crushed sage and iron-tinged blood carried by the night air.
At the center of the conservatory, kneeling by a shallow pond, was a woman tracing runes in the dirt with a willow branch. Her dark curls tumbled loose over a worn leather jacket, and the silver charms braided into her hair chimed as she moved.
Lucian let his voice carry, smooth and deep:
"The last time I saw a witch by moonlight, she was trying to kill me."
The woman didn't flinch. She finished her last stroke and only then turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were a sharp hazel flecked with gold that caught the moonlight.
"That makes sense," she replied, her tone dry. "Most witches who cross your path end up trying."
Lucian stepped closer, the scent of blood-soaked earth from his boots mingling with the damp floral air.
"And you're not trying?"
"Not tonight," she said, rising to her feet. "I like to meet the devils I'm warned about before I decide if they need killing."
He tilted his head, intrigued.
"Lucian Wolfe."
"Elara Voss," she said simply, as if daring him to recognize the name.
He did. His smile faded slightly.
"Voss. That line's supposed to be extinct."
"Supposed to be." Her lips curved faintly. "My coven wasn't wiped out completely—thanks to your brother Silas."
The air between them tightened at the mention of Silas's name.
"I've come to settle old debts," she added. "But it seems you have your own list of grievances."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, but there was no hostility—only curiosity.
"We might have use for each other."
Elara's gaze lingered on him, calculating.
"I know what you are. Your hybrid nature binds your strength to the moon. My bloodline holds the key to breaking that tether. But power always comes at a price."
Lucian smirked.
"I've been paying prices my whole life. I'd rather choose who collects the debt."
For the first time, Elara's guarded expression softened, just slightly, as though she saw the man beneath the predator.
"Then maybe you're not the monster they say you are."
He chuckled lowly.
"Oh, I am. But I'm a useful one."
Their eyes met for a heartbeat longer than either intended. Then the sound of distant howls—wolves responding to some unseen disturbance—broke the fragile calm.
Elara turned back to her runes.
"The witches are gathering tonight. They mean to strike soon. Your family is on their list."
Lucian's smile vanished.
"Let them come. We'll see if they're still chanting when their throats are torn out."
-- The Witches' Council — The Hollow Grove --
Deep in the old Hollow Grove woods, the coven convened beneath a ring of ancient stones. The silver-haired witch Lucian had spared in the forest stood before her sisters, face bruised from their brief clash.
"He's awake," she told them. "Lucian Wolfe walks free. We should have struck when we had the chance."
The eldest witch, **Marwen Voss**, Elara's great-aunt, leaned heavily on her ashwood staff.
"The hybrid was always the heart of their curse. If we can bind him again, the Wolfe family will crumble."
"And if we can't?" another witch asked.
Marwen's gaze hardened.
"Then we burn Hollow Falls to the ground and salt the ashes."
-- Fractures in the Pack — Wolfe Manor, Dawn --
The morning storm cleared, leaving the manor steeped in a damp chill. Lucian stood by the tall window of the library, staring out at the forest as the first light of dawn crept across the mist. The pale glow grazed his skin but didn't burn—his hybrid blood granting him more tolerance than a vampire, though the sunlight still felt unwelcome.
Behind him, Silas entered without announcement, carrying an old wolf-bone dagger on his belt.
"I hear you've been making friends," Silas said. "A witch. Of all things."
Lucian's jaw tightened but he didn't turn.
"She's not an enemy."
"Yet," Silas shot back. "You've been gone six centuries and already you're inviting snakes into the house."
Lucian finally turned, eyes narrowing.
"The witches are moving against us. I'd rather have one inside the walls than all of them at our throats."
Silas stepped closer, his presence heavy with unspoken threat.
"You're not the one who built these walls, hybrid. You don't get to decide who walks through our doors."
Lucian's smile was slow, dangerous.
"You mean to tell me you're still in charge? After you failed to keep me buried?"
For a moment, the two brothers were inches apart, neither backing down. The room seemed to shrink with their combined presence—wolf against wolf, predator against predator.
Silas's fingers brushed the hilt of his dagger.
"You're a threat to everything we've built here. If you try to lead, I'll put you back in the ground myself."
Lucian's reply was almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of the blood moon:
"Try."
-- The First Crack in the Family --
The heavy oak doors of the library swung open just as the tension reached breaking point. Aveline stepped in, her voice cold but commanding:
"Enough."
She looked at both of them as if they were wayward children.
"The witches are moving. Hunters are restless. And you two are busy measuring whose shadow is bigger."
Silas stepped back, but his glare lingered on Lucian.
"This isn't over."
Lucian didn't look away.
"It never was."
Aveline's expression hardened.
"If either of you tears this family apart again, I'll see to it you regret it."
Lucian scoffed, looking to his older sister nd shook his head.
"Dearest sister, you tore this family apart a long time ago when you three decided to imprison me."
The storm outside began to stir again, wind rattling the shutters as if echoing the tension inside. For the first time since Lucian's return, the Wolfe siblings realized their biggest battle might not be with the witches or the hunters—
but with each other.
|-| To Be Continued |-|