Chapter One Hundred and Three
Catherine followed closely behind Graham as he stalked from the training room. Around them, the group of onlookers were still discussing what just happened.
“She took down our beta!” one girl yelled in a whisper.
“Pfft,” the guy next to her scoffed. “She’s his mate. He let her to prove a point.”
“Have you ever seen Grey let anyone take him down? Even to prove a point?” a second man asked. “Besides, you saw what she did to Lucas and Theo, didn’t
you?”
Graham pushed through the door, giving no indication he heard them. Catherine reached forward and touched his fisted hand. His hand immediately loosened and she slipped her fingers through his. Her heart leapt at the small gesture of intimacy.
True to his promise nearly a week ago, Graham hadn’t stopped for a moment since the attack. Despite the fact that he still had all of his Beta duties to learn and take over, his focus was still on finding her tormentor. Catherine would wake early to leave for work only to find him already at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone with a stern expression. He forgot to eat so she took him meals throughout the day. He stayed at work until late but always made it home before she went to bed. She was grateful for that because even though he was bearing the brunt of finding her old alpha, the nights were where her old alpha came looking for her.
They managed to make it home in record time so they could both shower before Lucien’s oracle arrived to begin teaching Catherine. As she finished getting dressed, she observed her mate who watched diligently out the front window for their guests. He wore jeans and one of his henleys with the sleeves pulled down to his fingers. She thought his clothing choice was odd when it was nearly 90 degrees out. She opened her mouth to ask him about it when he stiffened and stood straighter. She knew before he even spoke.
“They’re here.”
The doorbell rang. She went to answer it but stopped at the bedroom doorway when he didn’t follow “You ready?” she asked.
He nodded but kept his eyes trained outside. “You go ahead.”
Catherine walked toward the front of the house. The doorbell rang again just as she got to the door. She unlocked it and pulled it open to be greeted by a larger group of people than she expected. Lucien stood at the front with a beaming grin. Rebecca was by his side along with several of the higher-ranked Blackmoore warriors. There were several other men she didn’t recognize. All of them had olive skin, jet black hair and expressions of curiosity: members of Lucien’s pack.
“Hello, Catherine!” Lucien exclaimed, pushing past her into the house. “I can see a week of imminent danger has done nothing to diminish your beauty.”
“Careful,” Graham warned, materializing at the bedroom door.
Graham pointed toward the living room and Lucien followed the direction of his finger. His gaze ate up the room while his men followed in behind him.
Catherine felt a lick of fear travel up her spine. She glanced back through the door and saw Jensen in the driveway speaking with someone else she didn’t recognize. It was hard to tell if the fear was from the stranger with a cane clasped beneath his arm or the fact that it was the first time she’d seen her father since she’d tried to rip him to shreds. Feeling her gaze, Jensen turned his head and his face twisted in guilt. She found her knuckles tightening into fists.
The man beside Jensen turned too and her eyes became riveted to him. Ghostly grey eyes stared back at her. His jet black hair was far longer than the others. While the rest of Lucien’s men kept their hair in braids, his flowed freely down past his hips. At least she thought it did because no matter how hard she tried, she could not move her eyes from his. His expression was unreadable yet relaxed as he invaded her thoughts and immobilized her body.
Suddenly Graham appeared in front of her, severing the connection between her and the oracle. She swayed slightly as she fought the whip lash. She leaned forward, pressed her forehead into Graham’s back and inhaled, trying to ground herself. The tense lines of Graham’s back beneath his shirt told her he’d noticed exactly what was going on.
“Don’t even introduce yourself before you try to take a peek around?” Graham growled.
Catherine touched his arm in reassurance before she stepped to his side. He pivoted slightly, shielding her with his body. Jensen eyed Muriel with confusion while Muriel himself remained stone-faced.
“Lucien told me you were her mate. The Moon Goddess’ desires remain packed with irony,” Muriel noted.
1/4
He started toward the house and with each step Graham grew more tense. Muriel flicked his wrist in Graham’s direction, dismissing him with the gesture. He walked past Catherine. As he passed he brushed his knuckles against her hip. Catherine gasped as several images flew behind her eyes too quickly to decipher. She staggered back a step. Graham caught her by her upper arms to steady her. His grip singed her skin and his energy crackled with aggression. She rubbed his hand to try to ease him.
“It’ll be fine, Grey, he won’t hurt her,” Jensen assured him. “Hello, Catherine.”
Catherine refused to look at the man who never wanted her born. Instead she strode toward the living room where her guests waited.
“You haven’t talked to her yet,” Jensen quietly spoke to Graham.
“She needs more time. You don’t see her at night when…”
Catherine blocked out their conversation in favor of playing hostess. “Hello everyone, do any of you need something to drink?” she asked.
All eyes turned to her and she resisted the urge to shrink back. Lucien stepped forward. “We are actually heading to the packhouse in a minute to get some of your delicious dinner. Muriel here.” Lucien glanced around and then ushered the oracle forward. “Ah, yes, this is Muriel. Muriel, Catherine. He wanted to get started right away.”
Muriel merely nodded in affirmation.
“Oh, so soon? I thought you might want to get settled in, maybe get to know each other first?” Catherine asked, taken off guard.
Muriel smirked. “I already know enough about you, Catherine. We do not have time to waste especially considering who you’re mated to,” Muriel explained, his eyes rising to track Graham’s movement behind her. Graham stiffened and pulled at his right sleeve. Muriel scoffed. “Do you really think that thin cotton can keep me from seeing the tattoos laced with magic?” Muriel raised his cane and tapped Graham’s arm just above the elbow. Graham yanked his arm out of reach. “How dare you think what you did was an accomplishment worthy of showing off to the world.”
Catherine remembered what the tattoo was he’d just pointed at: a beautiful moth with its wings spread, neon green started at the lower tip of the right wing that slowly faded to no color at all. It was one of two tattoos her mate had that was both color and gray-scale.
“Now is not the time to hash out old grievances,” Lucien said with a tone of admonishment.
“Right, I’m here for the gifted,” Muriel said, straightening up and tapping the cane against the floor twice. “Everyone else may leave.”
Muriel turned and walked to the couch where he took up the center cushion. Lucien’s men grumbled in unison before Rebbecca ushered them out of the house with the promise of food. Jensen followed suit until it was just Graham, Lucien, Muriel and Catherine.
Muriel’s eyes swept over the two remaining men with disinterest. “I said everyone but the gifted may leave.”
“Alright then, come along Grey. I heard today’s dinner is some kind of creole dish,” Lucien tried to loop his arm through Graham’s but he remained rooted.
“You can’t possibly think I’ll leave my mate alone with you?” Graham asked.
“I think if you want my help, you’ll leave,” Muriel answered.
Graham glared but the hostility radiating off him did nothing to affect the oracle. “I’ll wait on the porch.”
“You’ll wait at the packhouse.”
Graham’s growl vibrated off the walls.
“How about I wait on the porch?” Lucien asked helpfully.
Graham looked at Catherine. They didn’t need to communicate through mindlink for her to know of his worry or for him to understand her hesitation. His eyes shut hard and he ran his hand through his hair.
*Fine. But I’m sending for Lucas and he’ll wait with you,” Graham conceded. Graham took hold of Catherine and crashed his mouth to hers. He inhaled her shocked gasp before pulling her even closer to deepen the kiss. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. Call me if you need anything, he ordered her. She nodded.
DIA
“She won’t need anything,” Muriel said, shocking Catherine but seeming to only irritate her mate.
Graham turned to stare down the oracle. “Remember, Muriel, my mate has nothing to do with our history.”
Muriel’s icy-cold gaze shot to her mate and chilled even further. “Oh, I have to disagree with that Oracle Killer.”
After Graham and Lucien left the room, Muriel instructed Catherine to push one of the arm chairs closer so that she could sit across from him. They sat in silence for more than ten minutes. She wasn’t sure what he was doing. She couldn’t feel him in her mind nor in the energy around her. She closed her eyes and tried to feel his tether but there was none.
“You won’t find it,” he informed her. Catherine’s eyes shot open. “Your magic, it’s the energy variation. You should be happy. It’s a rare one.”
“Energy variation?”
Muriel rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch. “I’m guessing your mate hasn’t educated you on anything of the magical world?”
Catherine felt her hackles rise. “He’s been a bit busy protecting me from a psychopath. His skills aren’t in magic, they’re in combat. That’s what he’s been teaching me.”
Muriel rolled his eyes again. “Trust me, Girl, I know all about his combat skills.”
F 9 to 9t
EX
“Look, if all you want to do is sit here and try to bad-mouth my mate all day, I have much better ways I can utilize my time. I can always find another witch. to help me with this.”
He gave her an appraising look. “How many witches have you met?”
“Two. A brother and sister.”
“And what were their strengths?”
“What…”
He sighed in aggravation. “Magic? What were their abilities? What did they like to play with?”
Catherine thought for a moment. “Chloe could manipulate emotions and get into people’s minds.”
“She is a physical,” Muriel said with a nod.
“Curtis…” she stifled a shiver. “He can do a lot now but when I first met him he was best at opening portals, teleportation, things of that nature. More recently I’ve seen him paralyze an entire room of people.”
Muriel’s eyes squinted in curiosity. “Matter: another rarity.” He sighed. “There are five main branches of magic: Physical, mind and body, Matter, time and space, Elemental, the most common centered around nature, Blood, a combination of elemental and physical, and Energy, the rarest of them all and the one you’ve been gifted.”
“So witches are only able to use one of these?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, every witch has the ability to use all five. Unfortunately the magical council believes this makes witches too powerful and sloppy so they’ve instituted laws and restrictions. Witches must choose a specialty when they turn eighteen and become fully empowered. Only those that have been corrupted can attempt to harness all five… that and oracles such as ourselves.”
“An oracle can use all five without intervention?”
“Witches do not have the capacity to master all five in their lifetimes. They can only dip their toes in and get a taste of each, hence why the council wants them to choose and perfect one. Oracles, on the other hand, have indefinite lifespans and stand outside the laws of the magical council. We can take our time learning each variation of magic until we’ve mastered them and move on. We also have the capacity to harness them and use them without them corrupting us.”
“So because I’m a lycan I have the ability to learn all of the magical sects if I want to?”
He gave her a long look, “No, because you’re an oracle you can learn them all.”
Chapter One Hundred and Three
Catherine rubbed her temples. “What makes someone capable of being an oracle?”
“The Moon Goddess.”
“So we are the chosen?” she asked with a laugh. Rather than answer he just continued to stare at her. She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “Oracles are forced into hiding away from civilization. No one has heard of an oracle in centuries.” She looked back up at him. “What are you afraid of?”
Muriel sat forward and balanced his hands on his cane. “Your magical friend, Curtis…”
“He is not…”
Muriel held his hand up to stop her. “People like him will not stop until they’ve found an oracle and stripped them of every last drop of their magic, their soul. The problem is, we cannot be stripped of our magic entirely. Oracles were used as slaves for kings and queens for centuries. Asking for prophecies that changed on a dime, aid in battle that can be combated by another witch, sacrifice that leads to nothing… Our power is that of Gods, Catherine, and some people will never stop until they’ve proved you to be otherwise. Some people, like your mate, will not stop until they’ve rid the world of our kind.”
