Chapter 10: Dark magic

Eoghan looked at his bride. Her fear was tangible. A living thing between them. Almost as strong as his rage at his own impotence.

"Ailis, I'll come for thee."

"The next time you see this woman she will be swollen with my heir and ye shall be hanging from a noose!"

"We must away the now! Benedicat omnis hic

ambulare in nebula, nos ab hoste, protégé occulos!"

"Eoghan!"

"Ailis!"

Eoghan collapsed as the Witch hissed in his direction. His head felt as if it were being crushed between two stones. He howled in pain and then everything went black.

When he woke some thirty minutes later it was with sweat running down his face. His fever had broken, but he was not altogether well.

Eoghan drank some water and paced the hall to clear his head. The priest and Pack healer were with his father. He was suffering from a dark curse placed on him by the Witch. As they all were.

After she screeched her last spell a thick, white fog encircled Castle MacContire. It was impenetrable and made it exceedingly dangerous to try and navigate across the rough terrain in such a state. Eoghan's rage threatened to consume him.

"My lord, yer father asks for thee," the lad, Tom Kelly, bade him enter his father's rooms.

"Son, my son. The Witch speaks the truth. Yer father was molested by an English bastard, a rogue Wolf, who raped her one night whilst I fought to protect us. But she, she was my life, I promised to love her and to raise the child as mine own. Lyall is not my blood, but I believed him my son. I am sorry-"

"Nay, da, do not speak thus. Ye are good and brave and will be fine. I will see to Lyall and his Witch."

"Do not harm him, I promised yer mother."

"I shall do my best, but my loyalty is now to wife. I must find Ailis!"

Eoghan left the room abruptly. He went to the front door of the castle. Misty ropes of cursed fog blocked every available path from view. Yet he knew in his heart he had not a moment to lose.

"Sir? How shall ye travel in all this and where?"

"They have what is mine, Tom, and I mean to get her back."

Eoghan raised his blonde head to the skies. The sun was setting, but ‘twas weeks still to the full moon. He needed his Wolf more than ever, but the curse of St. Natalis forbade the connection between man and beast during the between times.

Eoghan growled and snarled. He had to focus. He went deep inside himself to that place in his mind's eye where his black Wolf rested and waited for him to call.

The silvery bonds of his Packmates were glowing as always, but they seemed almost dim compared to one. That line leads to her. My mate. Mine.

He knew instinctively tis the matebond he'd heard tales about from the Pack elders. His heart thudded in his chest as he settled back into the present. Then suddenly, as if through the mist, Eoghan saw a path. He raised his head. When he did his eyes were the familiar icy white blue of his Wolf.

"Sir!" Tom gasped.

"Ready yerself and my men. Bid them follow me. We go to fetch yer mistress and to save my father and yer Alpha." He threw his head back and howled for all the Pack to hear.

"Grab the bitch by her hair and drag her if ye have to. We must lock the doors now!"

Ailis struggled against Lyall's hold. He had six men loyal to him acting as guards, the Witch, and himself. They raced through the woods on horseback until they came to a decayed and crumbling tower.

"I saw this in my dreams," she whispered. The Witch, having heard her, grabbed her by the chin and hissed.

"Ye have sight, I'll grant ye, but shut that whore mouth or I'll snap yer neck!"

"Nay! She is mine now, Witch. Have a care!" Lyall snaked his tongue out and licked the side of her face. Ailis cringed and moved away.

"Tis a fine perfume to cover that particular canid scent ye carry, but I know what ye are, she-Wolf! Dost thou think Eoghan would care to be married to such a bitch?"

"Let me go, foolish pup!" She spat at Lyall's feet only to be slapped across the face hard enough to split her lip. The taste of blood in her mouth was familiar though unwelcome.

"Come, we must to the tower room. The ritual needs completing."

"I'll not give ye any more of my seed, Witch. It is for the lass now. No doubt, my brother will miss the honor of taking that pie for himself!"

Ailis gasped in pain as he tied a rope around her wrists and pulled her up the stairs. The rotting stone steps combined with mold, damp moss, and dead things invaded her nostrils. She wanted to gag.

For the first time ever, she wished she had applied more of that confounding scent. It was a nasty place and an even nastier future lay in wait for her. If only Eoghan would hurry!

Could he make it past the fog? The Witch was strong and cast a powerful spell. Nay, she'd not give in to those thoughts.

Her mate would come for her. She believed that with all her soul. She repeated it to herself over and again like the chanting monks she'd read about. Eoghan, love, come to me. Find me. I'm waiting for ye.

Her husband's half-brother, half a man was more like, pushed her onto a seat in the center of the tower room. He fastened a chain to the rope that bound her wrists together and linked it to the hard seat. She could barely move her arms.

"Lyall, tis not too late to stop this."

"Stop this? Why on earth would I stop this. Now that I look on ye, Lady Ailis, I must say my brother has taste at least. Yer fine English gown and yer sparkling blue eyes are fetching indeed. Mayhaps I shall enjoy deflowering you!" He said with a guttural snarl in his voice that made her skin crawl.

He ran a hand down her hair as if testing its weight, then lifted her face by her chin. His eyes seemed to undress her and Ailis suddenly wished for something with which to cover herself. He made her feel foul and used and that was just with his eyes.

"Aye, lass, you'll do for me. I'll have my brother's wife first, ha! How's that for a bastard second son, eh?"

"Yer Witch is scowling at ye, go tend her and leave me to find my peace afore yer brother comes to tear your throat out."

What started out as bravado, ended with the strength of her belief. Ailis did not doubt that her beloved would be coming for her. It was there in the vehemence with which she spoke. Her kidnapper must have agreed for she noticed a twitch in his lip before he went to his Witch.

A foul and evil thing she was. Ailis knew of her kind, those who practiced the Dark Arts had been cavorting on Dungannon lands for months now. ‘Twas Eoghan who burned their last habitat. No doubt she'd been stolen as some sort of revenge.

Her only hope now was to wait for her husband of but a few hours. Would their tie be strong enough to lead him to her? She wondered. She'd heard of such things amongst Werewolves, a matebond strong enough to link the two people as if they were one.

But she'd kept secrets from her man. She'd lied. Well, she had no choice at the time, but still. Would their bond be strong with deceit between them? Would he reject her?

Doubts and fear plagued her mind. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was always a useless thing, wasn't she? No good to anyone. Not worth what her father paid for her in dowry. Nay, Ailis, tis not yer own thoughts that besiege yer mind.

The voice of her Wolf sounded clear in her mind. Ailis closed her eyes and saw her clearly. Wrapped lovingly around her forepaw was a silvery glowing cord that travelled into the mist. She knew instinctively where it would lead.

Mine own mate. Tis true we are joined. He shall come for ye. Focus, Ailis. Stay at the ready.

Ailis opened her eyes and saw the Witch bent over a dark flame candle. Her one good eye peered at her and Ailis knew she was trying to invade her thoughts again. Nay, she will not get inside of my mind again!

Lyall paced around the small room and peeked through a small slit of a window that looked down on the ground below. He'd placed two of his men outside and four inside. Closest to him. The coward.

"Tis not right. He'll come! I know it!" Lyall rubbed his head, his agitation increasing.

"I cursed him with a fever, he'll not rouse in time. Take her, mark her now and make her yours!"

"Ye cannot just bite a wench! I must be in the act of consummation to mark her."

"Well then, get to fornicating with the bitch, but do it now! The signs are not unchangeable, ye must make the wench yers and then stake yer claim to Alpha! If he finds us tis lost."

"But ye cursed the path?"

"Yay, but the bitch here is pretty bait! He'll come!"

"Grrr," Lyall growled a pitiful sound and stalked to Ailis. He grabbed for her hands when suddenly a noise, more roar than howl sounded from outside.

"Tis not possible!"