Chapter 2 One

"Silly witches! A coven meeting out here in the open." Neil scoffed.

It was some sort of ceremony. The coven of witches had been chanting and singing for minutes.

Blake and the pack had just arrived and the witches seemed to be deep in the ceremony.

They had been tracking this coven for weeks. Their trail always ran cold after a couple of days. This traveling coven had come to Norway specifically to hold this ceremony. It seemed so important to them that they'd forgotten to mask their trail from the pursuing werewolves.

"What are we waiting for?" Neil whispered. Shoving his shoulder into Blake's side to nudge him as he spoke.

Blake turned to him. A cold warning stare. "We wait for the signal."

Neil got the message and kept quiet. He understood. It was the most practical thing to do.

Witches would naturally plant traps, hexes and protection spells around their meeting places. The wolves had to check it out before any attack.

Blake was as impatient as Neil was to get his hands on them. Maybe even more.

He remembered only too well. The way the last wolf returned from the meeting of the conclave wounded, bleeding and barely alive. This wolf had escaped what resulted in the death of his father and a handful of werewolves.

The witches, led by Ava - had taken the head seat at the conclave, killing his Father in the coup. These witches had killed his Father and now he would get his revenge.

Eight years ago, they had done this. And since then, Blake had not stopped trying to avenge his Father. It was his duty as the Alpha and this was their chance.

The air was chillier here in Norway. Blake could feel his wolf senses heightening from the sheer desire to avenge his father.

The smell of trees just below the hills filled his nostrils, the smell of the fire around which the witches danced made his nose tingle.

That was the thing about being werewolf. You could feel it all.

Every gust of wind carried the smell of the environment along with the emotions of the creatures around.

Werewolves could smell fear, doubt, uncertainty, anger. They could tell when something was off, just by the smell of it or the hair rising on their backs.

They could see up to a hundred feet ahead in the dark and they were super fast.

The Werewolves liked to think they were faster than the Vampires. But were they?

Blake had met quite a number of vampires in his lifetime. They were fast. Smart. They had heightened senses like the werewolf and they lived a ridiculously long life. The story goes that they are immortal. Blake didn't believe that.

A loud Werewolf howl erupted from the other side of the hill, interrupting his thoughts. It was the signal!

"Ahoooooo!"

That was their signal. It meant there were no hexes guarding the ceremony.

The wolves jumped in.

This part never got old for Blake.

The chase. Transforming as they ran into their wolfman form.

The Witches below the hills realizing quite late that they were about to get the battle of their lives stopped their chanting. The twenty of them began to pull spells from their arsenal.

It was dark. The wolves approached from the hills above. They couldn't see further than the light that their fire had provided.

"Ovel Ignis!" One of the witches cried, launching a large ball of flame towards the approaching wolves.

The ball of fire had missed but it lit up their position. Showing the witches the full extent of the assault. Thirty werewolves in full attack.

'We can't take them!' One yelled.

That's right, witch, Blake snarled in thought.

However, it seemed the witches didn't listen to her. They held it together.

The twenty of them hauled spells at the wolves.

The first wave hit and the wolves fully engaged the witches in close combat.

There was no way they could win. The wolves began to tear their guard down. The first witch soon fell to the claws of two werewolves.

The Witches were however formidable opponents. They held on for as long as they could.

Witches hauling balls of fire and chanting spells. For each one wolf hit, one other wolf made an attack.

It was thirty to twenty. They couldn't win even if they wanted to.

One witch floated above the air. In a ball of white light. Her hair flowing in the wind. She hadn't cast a spell yet. She'd just been chanting and muttering.

Blake knew she would do something big and disastrous if she wasn't stopped. He pranced around, watching the battle in full wolf; a large brown beast with thick fire and large red eyes.

Blake snarled and leapt off of the rock he had been standing on. He leapt towards the levitating witch and was deflected by the ball of light.

The huge brown wolf fell to the ground and picked himself up. Went around in circles, looking for an opening and just before he could attack again-the witch screamed with all time breath in her lungs.

The ball of light around grew and burst into greater white light that spread out through all the woods.

And at that moment, it happened.

As the light went through the woods, touching the werewolves, the werewolves lost their transformation for a few seconds. Quickly shifting from wolf to normal human.

Blake stood terrified.

He couldn't understand it.

How he'd gone from a big bad wolf to looking like a twenty-eight-year-old human Caucasian male.

And in that moment, the witches had gotten the window that they needed.

Huge balls of electricity then followed the ball of light that had just gone through.

Blake and the pack fell to their knees in unison with a thousand volts of electricity running through them.

The same levitating witch, still hanging in the air yelled another spell:

"Main agris, butleg votun."

And immediately, weapons materialized from thin air for the entire coven of witches.

They fought without mercy or fear for their own lives. They fought like men and women who had lost their hearts.

It seemed the witch that was hanging in the air had just turned the tide of the battle.

Swords, spears, blood, cries of battle and cries of pain.

Blake fought his way towards Neil. He couldn't let him get to the witch first, he couldn't let it happen.

The witches had injured a number of wolves. The battle was beyond fierce now. Each sword, replied by two other wolves.

Blake tried to run towards Neil the moment he found him. Few feet away, Blake was blocked by witches. They wasted no time as they struck him immediately, swords ripping into his shoulder. He hadn't seen them coming. His shoulder bled profusely. He didn't feel the pain yet.

He replied, grabbing the first witch by the head and tearing her to pieces.

He summoned all the energy that he could, pulled, swung out his claws at any approaching witch with all his might and sent them flying backwards.

Blake ran toward the fallen witches. The first got Blake's claw in his belly.

The bleeding from Blake's shoulder had made him throw all reason away. Now he struck to kill.

He tried to stop himself from losing focus. Realizing that he needed to bring down the levitating witch.

All he could see was the blood. It was driving him mad. He marked them, all the ones in black and he slashed and cut. Blood. Splashes of blood.

The woods were ablaze, blue and red flames crawling up the trees. Flames lit the ship up, burning corpses and screaming witches or wolves on fire. It was a massacre.

The members from the wolf pack battled the witches fiercely, trees were torn down, blood and fire everywhere.

Blake looked around, slightly weak in the shoulder that had been stabbed.

Would they die here?

Then he remembered. These witches killed the Alpha. His Father.

Both sides flew at each other's necks, the wolves leaping high, accomplishing incredible leaping feats and taking out more witches as they mauled them to death.

Blake saw Neil, in his full werewolf form, pick an axe and hack down his assailant.

Blake looked around. Surveying the field of battle,

Meredith, Neil's sister, was in deadlock combat with a witch; her fur flying in the wind as she battled the witch, a sword sticking out of her back.

Meredith lept toward her assailant, her silver mane reflecting the flame around them. The witch grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Meredith landed hard on her side. The sword in her back cut deeper as she coughed up blood.

She stood up with difficulty.

The witch she was in battle with laughed and spoke: "You're making me do this." And she chanted a spell, blue flames appeared around her as she increased the chant and pointed to the wolf, the flames followed her finger's direction and came flying towards Meredith.

Blake leapt towards Meredith, pushing her out of the approaching flames path and it fell on a nearby tree.

Meredith snarled. Now she was pissed.

Before the witch could cast another spell, Meredith had sunk her teeth into the witches shoulder-ripping off her entire arm from her body.

Blake watched the levitating witch intently. She seemed to be the strength of the coven. But she wasn't the witch Blake had been searching for. She wasn't Ava. But she would have to suffice.

The big brown werewolf snarled. His eyes, red as ever. His jaw dripped with blood.

He took a great leap at the witch, flying towards her faster than she could react in such a short time, hitting her into a nearby tree, breaking the tree in half.

The night had been fast throughout the battle and now it looked like it was dawn.

The witch looked above her and cried. "The portal! The porta..."

Blake's teeth had sunk into her torso. Stopping her words half way as he ripped out her lungs. The levitating witch was dead.

That was when the witches realized they were in for it. The swords and weapons that had materialized from nowhere suddenly disappeared into nothingness. The witch that conjured them had just been torn in half.

Witches and wizards, as if on cue, began to run into the woods.

Blake howled and the entire pack of wolves gave them a fierce chase.

The witches and wizards were now in full flight. The wolves hot on their tail, cutting them down one by one.

As the chase continued; one by one, the wolves would maul down a witch fleeing.

Until there were only six witches left.

One of the witches behind suddenly stopped running.

"Open the portal!" She yelled to the others. "I'll cover."

Another warlock stopped to try and convince her to keep running.

"Kivella! Don't do this! We can make it together. Come," he said.

"We can't, Elvis. Go! Go, Elvis!"

She turned around to face the approaching werewolves. She picked up the large stick that had fallen from a broken tree, whispered a few words in the elder language and spat up some blood.

Blake had heard her words and knew only a few witches could cast a spell in the elder language. He needed to interrogate her.

The wolves approached her and stopped. Snarling with bloody jaws, they had spread out to cover this lone witch.

Blake said, "You don't have to do this. We're better than this."

She mocked. "No, you're not. You're a twisted lot, you wereworld are."

Her accent sounded British.

Her eyes held no remorse. No anger for fallen friends or coven members who had just left her.

She threw the broken piece of tree to the ground and new trees began to grow behind her. Completely blocking her off from the other fleeing witches.

From between the trees, Blake's pack could see the fleeing witches go through a portal far away and disappear.

They had lost the remaining five.

Neil leapt at her. Catching her arm in his fierce jaw and ripping it clean off.

The witch yelled.

"Stop!" Blake commanded.

Neil turned to see Blake standing in human form, walking towards the witch.

"If you kill her, she can't give us anything," he said.

And one by one, each wolf transformed into a human.

Blake walked to the bleeding witch.

"Where is your High Priestess?" He asked. Picking the witch by the throat and holding her few feet above the ground.

The witch smiled and said: "Go to hell."

Blake tightened his grip on her neck. She gasped for air.

"Where is Ava!" He yelled.

And at that moment, the witches' eyes began to glow.

"Hear hear!" She began... "This shall be the death of the wolves..." "A hunter, a wolf, an alpha dead, a two-faced mate, blood broken and a duel that brought hate."

Blake knew what this was. Many witches would prophecy in their dying moments.

He couldn't care less.

"Where is Ava!" Blake yelled.

She continued: "This shall be the death of the wolves. A hidden hunter amidst them, a wolf, an alpha dead, blood broken by a duel."

"What duel?" Blake said impatiently, letting the witch drop. She stood on her own feet. Still in a trance. She went again. Each time, the words have a new detail.

"This shall be the death of the wolves, a hidden hunter amidst them, one of their kind, a hunter yet not of the normal, a wolf, an alpha long dead, a duel that broke..."

The prophecy was stopped abruptly. Neil had leapt over to her in his wolf form and taken her head off with a single bite.

Her headless body fell to the ground.

The witch was dead.