Hunted By Firelight by Krista Street

Chapter 20

~ AVERY ~

Sacred Circle. That’s what they call themselves. But how do I know that?

The backs of my knees bumped into a chair, as fear raged through my soul. I collapsed onto it. My hands automatically gripped the armrests, my fingers digging into the soft material.

The power inside me flared, electricity zapping along my limbs. That terrible well of magic simmered in my soul, threatening to unleash itself due to the terror swimming through my veins.

Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

A dark scowl formed on Wyatt’s face. “Who is he?”

“His name is Lord Nelifeum Godasara,” Nicholas replied calmly. “He’s an elf lord who lived two thousand years ago here in the fae lands. But he’s no longer alive, Avery. The elves are all dead, and the last elf lord was killed over a thousand years ago. I don’t know how he could be the one you’re speaking of, even though he meets your description and has an unusual history which also ties him to the Safrinite comet.”

“I saw him!” I stated loudly, the horror still coiling inside my belly like a snake.

“But he’s dead,” Nicholas countered gently.

“No, he’s not. That was him the other night. He’s the one who attacked the inn, and he said he’s been waiting for me for thousands of years.”

Nicholas’s eyebrows drew together. “But how is that possible? It’s not, right?”

Wyatt’s chest heaved as alpha magic rolled off him in tremendous waves. The power inside me responded, zapping and sparking along my nerves.

Both Nicholas and Bavar wore uncomfortable expressions when Wyatt’s alpha magic barreled into them, but they stayed standing—a true testament to how strong each of them were.

“Those are very good questions,” Bavar replied.

“Avery.” Wyatt inched cautiously toward me. He moved slowly, as if afraid of startling me. When he finally reached me, he knelt at my side, his warm palm covering the back of my hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

I did my best to control my breathing, but the shock of seeing the elf’s face, of recognizing the supernatural, nearly undid me. He was the one who’d tried to abduct me at the inn. He was the one who commanded that circle of robed men. He was the one who hunted me in my dreams. Ice-cold dread slid through my veins and threatened to unleash the foreign power inside me.

“It’s him. I don’t know how that’s possible, but I know I’m right. I swear it.”

Wyatt’s moss-green irises looked bottomless as a fierce flash of golden light rimmed the colorful orbs. “You recognize him? From the inn?”

“His mouth is the same. But it’s not just from the inn. My dreams too.”

Nicholas rolled the parchment back up after Bavar had taken multiple photos using his tablet. Both watched me now, Bavar’s eyes concerned, and Nicholas’s eyes kind yet . . . hungry.

I gripped Wyatt’s hand. “He not only attacked the inn, but I’ve seen him before, or rather felt him in my dreams.” The terror inside me increased when I remembered the horrifying nightmare I’d woken up from during the night. “That’s what my nightmare was about last night. In the dream, he found me, and it felt so real, like he’d been looking for me and had actually found me.”

Shock crept across Wyatt’s face, then he stood and faced Bavar and Nicolas. “Was Lord Godasara a projector?”

Nicholas pulled out the documents from his pocket, studied a few, then tapped one of them. “According to this, yes.”

The concerned look on Bavar’s face grew.

“You’re absolutely certain that this elf is who’s in your dreams?” Wyatt asked me. “And you’re confident that he said he found you.”

“Yes, completely. It’s not the first dream I’ve had of him.”

“How is this possible?” Bavar whispered. “A dead elf come back to life?”

Nicholas’s attention swung between all of us, his confusion growing. “You’re saying he’s actually alive?”

Wyatt crouched back at my side, his tone turning urgent. “Avery, this is very important. Have you felt his presence at all today? Do you sense that he’s near?”

I shook my head. “No, not since the dream, but I’ve only ever felt him when I’m asleep.” More thoughts whirled through my mind. Not quite memories; rather, feelings and inklings of what had once been. Strangely, I wasn’t sure if they were my feelings and thoughts or someone else’s. I couldn’t make sense of it. “I think”—I bit my lip, the realization only coming to me now—“I think he and I are tied somehow.”

“And if he’s alive and a projector, and he’s locked onto her in a dream, then it’s possible he does know that her location is here at Shrouding Estate.” Wyatt growled so deeply that I knew it came from his wolf.

My eyes popped. “You mean he actually did find me in my dream?”

Nicholas swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “If he’s alive—and that’s still a big if—and if these documents are correct in saying that he’s truly a projector, then yes, it’s possible he’s found you.”

“So our location has most likely been compromised.” Bavar’s gaze drifted to the windows and to the forest beyond, his hand going to his dagger. “Meestry?” He signaled to the servant. “Please get Squad Three.”

I brought a hand to my forehead. “Will someone please explain to me what a projector is?”

“It’s a very rare ability,” Nicholas replied. “Not many can do it in today’s world. It’s like scrying but much more complicated. A projector is able to astral project himself to other areas in the realm. He can spiritually visit areas when he’s seeking a source he’s locked onto.”

“Did I have these dreams about him before I woke up in the field?” I asked Wyatt.

Smoldering light filled his eyes. “I don’t know, but prior to the alignment you were on earth. If you had dreams there about him, they were just dreams. Projectors can’t cross realms.”

“There’s more that you need to be aware of.” Nicholas stretched out another parchment, which was streaked with fresh ink just as Squad Three poured into the room. All of them were there: Bishop, Terry, Lex, Marnee, Heidi, and Charlotte. They all wore matching suits. In other words, weapons galore were strapped to their bodies.

In an instant, the seating area was overflowing with energy from a squad of supernaturals.

“Have we got movement?” Lex’s blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Not that we know of.” Bavar’s hand went to his dagger again. “But we may. The group after Avery possibly has a projector.”

“It’s not possibly,” I corrected. “It’s him, and he’s been in my dreams.”

Bavar dipped his head in apology as Marnee’s lips thinned, her eyes narrowing.

Bishop put his hands on his hips. “Do we know where this definitely-probable-projector is now?”

“No, but we know what he looks like. Apparently, he’s a dead elf come back to life.” Bavar lifted his tablet. “I’ve sent you all a copy of his picture. According to Nicholas, he’s been dead for two thousand years, yet according to Avery, he’s the man who’s in charge of the group that’s pursuing her.”

The entire room grew quiet.

“It makes sense though.” Wyatt paced the room. “If this elf has returned, it would explain why Squad Fourteen couldn’t identify his scent. Nobody’s scented an elf in a thousand years.” His feet stopped, planting into the thick rug. “So he’s an elf working with sorcerers?”

Nicholas raised a finger. “Possibly, but I don’t think they’re sorcerers even though Squad Fourteen said all of the other men at the inn were.”

Quiet again descended on the room as all eyes shifted to the vampire.

“Then what are they?” Lex asked.

“If they’re truly working with Lord Nelifeum Godasara, then I would guess they’re warlocks.” Nicholas pulled out another sheet of parchment from his stack. “The texts we’ve uncovered about him all hinted at the trouble he found himself in near the end of his life—the trouble that spoke of the comet and prophecies and his obsession with ensnaring the power of a god. Lord Godasara turned to dark, powerful magic near the end of his life, as his ambition grew to gain more control of the fae lands. He used warlocks to strengthen that dark magic.”

Heidi brought a hand to her throat. “That explains why Squad Fourteen identified them as sorcerers, since that’s what they inherently are. But shit, that’s super creepy. Warlocks are bad news. Even a group of three or four can be hard to deal with, but a dozen?”

I scrambled to remember what I knew of warlocks. Of course, nothing came. “What’s so bad about warlocks?”

“Warlocks are sorcerers who practice dark magic,” Heidi replied. “That practice is illegal now, so if any are caught they face punishment in the courts. We don’t get many assignments that deal with them, since dark magic is harder and harder to procure. That was one of the first things the SF dealt with when our organization was formed several hundred years ago, but the times that I’ve had run-ins with warlocks have been bad. We’ve never returned with a full squad.”

My stomach sank like a stone.

A red strand of hair came loose from Terry’s bun. “Okay, so a dozen warlocks and an elf lord. I should have called in sick today.”

Bishop chuckled even though nobody else was smiling.

Terry shook her head. “But this still doesn’t make sense. Nobody has seen or heard of an elf being alive in a thousand years. Not since the last one was hunted to extinction at the battle of Serfenivee.”

Heidi nodded. “Exactly. I thought they were extinct too. I thought we’d made them extinct.”

Nicholas smoothed the papers more. “Until today, so did I, but now that Avery’s insistent he’s alive, some of these findings actually make more sense.” He waved at the papers. “These are the translations of other documents we found. Once the Bulgarian gargoyles realized Lord Godasara was interested in the comet, they began looking into him. According to the scrolls, he was obsessed with harnessing the power of the gods. Lord Godasara conducted many rituals and sacrificed many lives in attempts to lure one of the gods to our realm. And in some of the scrolls it says he succeeded.”

The energy coming off Wyatt soared, his power vibrating through me, and I knew he’d reached the same conclusion as me.

Lord Godasara was obsessed with harnessing the power of the gods. The power currently inside me was strong enough to come from a god.

“He succeeded?” A skeptical expression formed on Bavar’s face. “But none of the gods have walked on this soil in thousands of years.”

Nicholas raised a finger. “One may have.” He shuffled the parchments, then whipped one out. “Verasellee, the Goddess of Time, was rumored to have touched down in this realm where she was captured and enslaved by a circle of supernaturals, and was then forced into a dormant state.”

Wyatt went completely still.

“I stopped time,” I whispered. “And in my dream, the men are always in a circle—The Sacred Circle.”

Nicholas eyed me, then continued. “However, before she fell into that state it says that she fought back and cursed the lord trying to take her power. What that curse was exactly, we don’t know as the records get fuzzy. Some say her curse killed him, others say it only weakened him, but if Lord Godasara is the one who did this, and he’s truly walking and breathing now—two thousand years after his life supposedly ended—then perhaps he fell into a state similar to hers. He could have been dormant and only just recently awoken.”

“And if he’s truly working with warlocks, that makes sense because casting someone into a dormant state takes dark magic,” Lex chimed in. “That’s a warlock’s specialty.”

Heidi crossed her arms. “So if he’s been dormant for all of these years, why did he wake now?”

“Me.” A chill rushed through me. I didn’t know how I knew that it was because of me, but I did. Once again, it was as if foreign memories brushed my mind, just like the foreign power that swirled through my veins. The power that controlled time. “Whatever happened to me with the comet and alignment, I think it’s tied to them—the Sacred Circle. And I think this elf lord has been waiting for thousands of years to awaken for me.”

Wyatt snarled, and all of Squad Three shared uneasy looks, Charlotte giving me a brief fleeting smile which didn’t reach her eyes.

I tried to shake the icy feeling off. “So what does being dormant mean and how would the warlocks do it?”

Nicholas flipped through the parchments again. “Dormancy means that your body goes into a deep coma and you’re preserved in that state. Think of it like cryogenic freezing, except it requires immense and illegal dark magic, which is why so few dare to try it, but it could explain what’s happening here if an elf lord is truly walking again.”

“Well, shit.” Bishop whistled. “So all of this could be true.” He gave me an apologetic look when he caught my glower. “Not that I ever doubted you, Ms. Meyers.”

Wyatt flanked my side, the energy off him now coming in tumultuous waves. Everyone else was doing their best to avoid his surges, stepping out of the way or behind furniture when necessary.

“There’s something else I wanted to show you, commander,” Nicholas said to Wyatt. He pulled out another sheet and pointed at a few lines of text. “One tome Master Godric found says that before Verasellee fell into a deep sleep, she released her power into the heavens for it to be given one day to a worthy heir.”

Wyatt’s jaw dropped. “An heir?”

Nicholas nodded.

“That matches what we found before the alignment.”

“And that would be what?” Heidi asked.

Wyatt’s gaze drifted to Marnee, who’d been strangely quiet during the entire exchange, before he brought his hands to his hips and addressed Squad Three. “The gargoyles made a few discoveries before Avery”—he swallowed, as if the next words pained him—“died. One of the tomes they found said, ‘For on the night of the heir’s conception, the great prophecy will begin. The stars will amass to twice their size, and the magic will be born in the fated starlight couple. And only when the Safrinite comet returns will the true prophecy occur. The magic will erupt in the heir destined to forge our path, creating the path for the gods to be born. Only then will we rise.’”

“So more than one document has spoken of an heir,” Charlotte concluded.

Wyatt nodded. “We knew Avery was the heir after her parents visited the Bulgarian libraries, and now we know who was destined to rise. It’s the elf lord and the Sacred Circle. They’re the ones who have risen. It’s all making sense now.”

The blood drained from my face. “So, Verasellee, the Goddess of Time, touched down in this realm, Lord Godasara enslaved her, but before he managed to do that, she released her power to be given to a worthy heir, and I’m that heir. So that’s what’s inside me? The power of a goddess.”

Wyatt dipped his head, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. I was thankful I was still sitting down. If I hadn’t been, I probably would have collapsed.

“Well, shit,” Bishop said again.

“Well, shit indeed.” Charlotte drifted closer to my side and placed a hand on my forearm as Wyatt continued to loom over me.

The breath rushed out of me, but I was grateful for their presence. It wasn’t every day that one learned she had the power of a goddess. A freakin’ goddess. No wonder I couldn’t control it. Nobody would know how to control power that strong.

“What’s the latest perimeter report?” Wyatt asked Bavar.

Bavar whipped out his tablet, his fingers flashing over it. “According to the wards, all is still quiet, as it has been since we arrived yesterday. There’s been no sign of foreign visitors or malevolent magic, and there’s definitely not a once-dormant-come-back-to-life elf lord prowling the perimeter, but it’s only a matter of time until he’s here. If he’s waited two thousand years for a goddess’s power, and he now knows that Avery has it, something tells me he’s not going to waste any time.”

The energy off Wyatt soared. “We need to tell Wes. We’re going to need more squads here.”

“I’ll message my uncle now, telling him we need clearance. Squad Three, prepare for an imminent attack.”

Everyone whipped into action as a niggling sensation brushed the back of my mind. The feeling that hinted at a memory that wasn’t my memory. Like how I’d known what the Sacred Circle was.

Could it be the Goddess of Time’s memory?

I shook that thought off and tried to focus on what was happening around me.

Everyone had their weapons out, except for Wyatt and Bishop. As werewolves, their power lay in their wolves.

Bishop was holding it together, but hairs had sprouted on the backs of Wyatt’s hands, only to retreat again. Some part of me understood what was happening.

Wyatt was very close to losing control. I was his mate. He felt my safety was in peril.

And he would die to defend me.

Or kill anyone that threatened me.

“Wyatt?” I stood and rounded the back of my chair. “It’s okay. Bavar’s right. He’s not here yet. Nobody is trying to hurt me right now.”

His arms closed around me. “But he knows you’re here.” His words came out guttural and inhuman, as if his vocal cords had become half man and half wolf.

I threaded my fingers through the soft hair at his nape, the texture like silk.

Waves of turbulent energy washed off of him like a raging river down a mountain. He hauled me closer and buried his nose in my neck. His entire body trembled. “I need to keep you safe.” His voice was still altered, his arms like steel. “I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.”

Wyatt lifted his head. “Are we clear on the escape plan, Bavar?”

Bavar strapped a sword to his back. “Yes, she’ll stay in the Whimsical Room, only escaping to headquarters via a portal key if the castle falls. We’ll deal with health repercussions then if they come.”

I scrunched my face up in confusion. I knew they were talking about me, but the apparent escape plan was news I hadn’t been privy to.

But I didn’t have time to ask about it. Bavar shouted, “Meestry!”

A shuffle of feet came, and then the servant entered the room. “Yes, my lord?”

“Please prepare the castle. I’m activating Mission Red.”