WOLVE STUFF- HECATE WOLF PACK

** before the Battle of the Siege**

A high-pitched, furious scream cut through the late-morning silence.

The protest was of a newborn baby who, for the first time, contemplated the world, away from the protective heat of the maternal body

The midwife made the sign of the cross when she sighed willingly.

-It's a girl! - Her voice showed no emotion.

Christina chose her eyes for a torn moment, before opening and landing on supplicants over an old woman. There was no time for her to be bitter. The child's life depends on it.

-Please .... - She never imagined would be so forceful to speak. - Please, Jezebel. I'm begging... Save her.

The midwife shook her head in disbelief.

-The little one is their puppy, isn't it? - Jezebel sighed deeply. - Foolish girl. You knew and did not try to miscarry a child or even request protection from the wolf who was her father. What did you expect?

The scolding fell heavily on Christina's still recent pains. The rejection by pregnancy was absorbed by something unexpected. The girl was his daughter. She could see the same strong features of the man she had despised in the delicate features that framed completely black eyes.

She wasn't going to give in to despair. Naturally, the child would inherit the parent's abilities.

-Jezebel! - She insisted pale. - You know as well as they want to kill a child. Take it from here. By Hecate... Tell everyone she was born dead.

Jezebel frowned.

-The little one has a little thirst and cries. As expected .... Give her a drink ...

Christina knew that. Only there was no time for discussions.

The old abbey, still asleep, awaits the dawn for the beginning of activities. It would not be possible to remove the baby before it was too late to save the girl's life. All she could think was that at least one child would survive all that horror. The baby would not share the fate that awaited her mother when she violated laws.

- It's a girl with the ancient lineage of wolves ... You know as well as I do ...

Jezebel grunted, arranging a blanket around the newborn, muffling her screams

A puppy of wolves! Who would say! And she was born alive ...

- Give it to the father. - The midwife scolded in annoyance.

-I can not! - Christina threatened to fall apart.

He would never accept a small one after the sorcerers' levity. Only after many years, once again, did a Lich walk among them.

The Harvest ritual ... Three tribes of wolf lineage combined by an ancient curse ...

The pure blood of lineage should be collected to restore the Staff's magic. Just as the Pieces of Four regain their original power.

At the beginning of time, the race was unique...

Chistina woke up screaming, looking at the damp and cold cell that held her without forgetting the hellish nightmare.

The child ...

It was just another dream.

The child was alive.

The Birth of Hecate's first guardian

A lightning-dark sky was replaced by charged clouds and was followed by a woman's scream.

The room was bright, lit by candlesticks.

Armed men dressed in black tunics with the emblem of the crescent moon guarded the place.

Cassie screamed again when pain swept through her body with a feeling that it was ripping through her.

Something was wrong.

It was not yet time, only a spell cast on her for the capture accelerated the moment. She contracted, biting her lip with a terrible perception of what was going to happen.

*God, please don't. Not now ...*

She was lying on a table in the centre of the room, surrounded by women, who prevented her from escaping. Her body writhed in painful contractions in her abdomen and back. They were becoming frequent and intense. The baby was going to be born.

Ah, sir, that was not a false alarm. She screamed again in horror when she felt the bag break.

*Richard...*, thought with despair.

-The baby will be born. Come on, push.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

James Macgrover further away just watched.

He was going to take the baby away as soon as the child was born. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

-Mayra, please ...- a young girl became stiff.

The gipsy stared at her indifferently.

- There's no point fighting. The bag burst. Push yourself. - a woman ordered without showing any emotion.

-No !!! -she shouted again in despair. It was just like in her visions.

That nightmare had become real. She couldn't keep her cool. The baby was still two months away, but what terrified me the most was the baby's movement. The musculature of the lower abdomen contracted once more.

-Power yourself. I think I can see the child's head. - Mayra exulted.

Cassie tried unsuccessfully to kick her to get the woman away. Strong hands immobilized her by the ankles.

*Rick, where are you? I need you...*

.-I'll kill you.- she swore as she gripped the sheet tightly. - I swear I'll kill you. Get away from me.

She was breathing hard with fear.

There was no way to protect her beautiful baby from that monstrous man. Cassie was scared, nervous and angry. All this and a little more. What were they going to do with the child? She was breathing too fast. The air did not seem to reach the lungs.

-Breathe. Slow down. Let's go. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. It won't be long now.

Cassie was sure she was suffocating. Without protection from the wolves, Philip easily managed to win as Glenhouse's defensive walls. She still didn't know if Faith was still alive or her niece. The pressure increased in the spine region.

-Not so, you fool. Push when I tell you to. Push when the contraction eases.

-No!- Cassie gasped.

She experiences horror, knowing that she would no longer see a child, looking at Philip's hateful countenance. He hated that man. He was a monster.

*Richard!*

-Please, Phil... Don't do that. - she pleaded however bitter it was.

Despair now enveloped her in its grip of terror. As soon as the attack began, the guards protected women, old men, and children in the hope of buying time. An escort of Scarlet men was already available on the outskirts of the forest surrounding the castle.

Richard.

Rick had to be among them. Only he could prevent Philip from disappearing with their son.

She wondered if it would make any difference to her husband after she was born as the coven regent's natural daughter. In three months, he hadn't even looked for her. Exhaustion began to overwhelm her.

-He is arrested. Come on, push.

-Don't hurt the baby. Please ... - she shouted at the height of distress.

It was useless to resist. The child was going to be born. Nothing in the world would change the tragic situation. Tears welled up in her eyes.

-Hell. The child is sitting.- a brief feeling of compassion threatened to strike Mayra.

She almost helped the child and tried to hold the buttocks and back that were hanging. It could kill or encourage a little one to breathe and choke on the liquid in the placenta.

-Come on, push. You are a goddamn wolf. - the woman was impatient. - The head is stuck. Scream, but push, unhappy.

Cassie bit her lip again. She didn't have the strength for that anymore. Maybe it wasn't so bad that she or a child died. Phil needed both her and the child for the ritual.

-I need the child alive, Mayra. It serves me nothing dead. -Philip complained angrily.

Throughout the castle, his men led by Valerius advanced, causing destruction and terror. He was impatiently waiting for the moment to have the child. In your power. Her blood was powerful enough to put the Pieces of Four together.

-Please, Philip. Do not do it.

Cassie was crying. Did he intend to sacrifice the child?

*Rick, where are you?*

Her thought echoed without response in an oppressive silence.

-Come on, breathe slowly. Deep. And push. It doesn't take much. The baby will be born.

-I can not.

- Get it! - the gipsy was starting to get nervous. - He's Morgan's son. She won't let the child die. It will bring that child into the world.

She noticed the body retracted with a new contraction when the girl pushed again hard.

There was a kind of momentary relief from the pain and Cassie left her head hanging over the pillows without any force.

A quantity of hot liquid soaked the sheets under the young woman as the cold enveloped her.

-I got it. It's a boy! - Mayra smiled contentedly and her face tightened.

The mother with all that horror was bleeding.

She wasn't going to survive. Mayra took a knife that was heated by the fire and cut the umbilical cord before holding the child, wiping his nose and mouth. The baby let out a high-pitched, furious cry of protest. Mayra sighed as she wrapped the little one in warm blankets for the first time with remorse.

-James, Phil!.... - Her voice was doubtful.

-The baby ... Leave the baby ... - Cassie despite the enormous fatigue showed a weak smile on her dejected face. –I want to hold ...

Indifferent to his mother's requests, Phil approached and looked at the newborn. A boy. Had a chance to have an heir of his blood to inherit his lands and inherit his legacy. Only much more was at stake. Power. He longed for the original forbidden power.

The child was the light of the creation of the ritual. He watched the child capture its animal nature. He was not just a wizard. He had the curse in his blood like the damned father.

He was a half-breed. His blood was not pure.

-Give me a child, Mayra.

The count held out his arms to an indecisive gipsy. Very pale Cassie had finally passed out.

-Phil, she will die ... - Mayra protested mortified. - Your daughter is dying!

Philip contracted angry features. He pulled the child violently from the woman's arms, indifferent to the disorienting cry. The boy was screaming furiously now.

-It is not my daughter. Willian's daughter ... - he spoke dryly. The damn girl has always rejected us since she learned of her origins.

The gipsy stared at him in disbelief. Despite everything, she loved Morgan. She had made many mistakes because of that love. The boy was the son of the man she loved. Richard Morgan would never forgive her if something happened to the little one. The boy's mother was forgotten in a pool of blood, life draining away quickly.

She was a wolf, but wolves did not heal when deprived of food. She was not safe in the Scarlet castle and Morgan had argued with his wife after learning that the girl was the daughter of his enemy.

Mayra did not hesitate once to tell this. She knew that Cassie was going to reveal the truth, but was jealous and rejected and anticipated.

She watched with remorse as the child was handed over to the soldiers without any care. God, he was born just now. It needed to be heated and fed.

-You're going to kill the child, Phil. You need a love dry to take care of the boy. The ritual will not work if the child is dead. - she appealed.

She was a woman. She had seen the mother's desperation to know that the child would be taken out of her arms as soon as she was born. The girl had resisted until the end believing in a miracle that did not happen.

The wolves had not arrived in time.

-JAMES!PHILIP!

The unfortunate man without paying attention was leaving the room with his men after reaching goals without looking at his dying daughter. It was unbelievable. It took a few moments for her to make up her mind.

She ran to Kassuim, holding the knife that previously separated the umbilical cord between mother and son. She couldn't believe what she was doing.

-Come on, wake up. You're not going to die like that, you unfortunate. You are a goddamn wolf. Wolves have healing skills. It can heal. Try to heal yourself. Your child needs you. You need to buy time until Rick arrives.

Mayra had the impression that it was shaking a lifeless body. She was very cold. There was an enormous amount of blood. Determined, she gripped the knife tightly, sliding the blade around her wrist.

-Wake up. Try to react. Blood. You can heal if you drink.

The gipsy screamed desperately. It was too late.

The girl did not react. In distress, she brought her cut wrist to her red, cracked lips, leaving the blood running through her half-open mouth.

-You're going to tell Richard that I'm sorry, do you hear? - she was crying herself. - Come on, you damn wolf. You need to drain my veins. Human blood, Cassie. It will provide enough strength for you to heal. Drink it.

Mayra was sure it was too late.

It had taken too long to decide to correct an endless list of errors.

It was not possible to live and face Morgan knowing that she was responsible for the death of his only son. A child he had never even seen.

It's all your fault.

-KASSUIM!

A muffled cry escaped the gipsy as she leaned on the bed next to the half-dead woman. Still, the smile lit up her face.

Sharp fangs penetrated her skin, deepening in her flesh. She leaned heavily against a table that served as a makeshift bed.

Her last thought was for the pack leader.

That he could forgive her. Closing her eyes, she felt herself falling to the floor. Even so, she still heard the furious growl followed by an agonized howl that ran through the deadly silence of that deserted tower.

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The ancient writings were lost, but the ancient prophecy spoke: "the birth of a child with a teardrop of surrender".

Someone with enough power to bring life back to those who died cursed.

The sorceress walks among wolves.

The harvest needs tribute.

Innocent blood must be spilt.

The baby would have a mark, blessing or curse, born when a black moon ascends to the heavens ... "

I can offer what you most want. A life with those you love. Don't ask for anything that big. Or difficult.

Behold the sands of time, past and future...

That time Valerius would be relentless ...

AUTHOR-

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express wrote permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Pixabay20 Free commercial license Pixabay

Epilogue

The story touches on themes such as sorcerers, werewolves, and witches.

It has its plot in a fictional world and its main cities. Muir and Chabone are some of them or perhaps more important in the Kingdom of Garrone. The traditions, habits, and customs of this mystical organization are governed by strict laws and controlled by royalty, represented here by the Successorium.

There is a law that is the most sacred of all. Their existence should never be revealed to humans. Even the Law of Destiny does not override the directive.

The decay of an ancient race by punishment for violating the laws of nature. This is the central theme addressed. Thus, the original race, Primordials, after the great fall, was divided into 4 species: sorcerers who mastered magic, wolves who possessed the ability to change their form, ichichos - little evolved creatures - and dominated by dominant power and Graves.

Of the surviving species, sorcerers and wolves face off, fighting the threat of extinction. Burials, for intolerance and rebellion, had been cursed. They had no magic of their own, but they could alter their physical form. They absorbed magic to stay alive, draining their victims. The kingdom was then divided between two species: wolves and sorcerers.

For years, Burials brought terror to the small nation until it fell into extinction because of its limitations.

It felt like a world destined to end.

In this way, ancient legends have always portrayed the beginning of a time when the race was unique and powerful. There was the most extraordinary legend among them about a witch who would walk among wolves. Well, sorcerers and wolves are natural enemies. We could not stop talking about the transformed - a failed attempt to combat the threat of extinction and that they created a wild and bestial species without control.

Many heirs of these clans, seeking salvation for their world, imagined finding ways in human knowledge to prevent a tragic end. So we have a clash between different cultures. In ancient religion, women have always been considered special. She had the gift of procreation. This approach is very different from the way women were treated at the time. The book reports some passages on the subject.

Finally, every good story has the girl in danger. A young woman cursed and kept anonymous. This is our main protagonist: Kassuim. We do not have as heroes a knight armed with moral principles.

The 18th century marks the end of the Modern Age in Europe.

It is the century of Enlightenment.

The world is the stage for events such as the Enlightenment and man will witness the French Revolution.

The Inquisition took place in the Middle Ages, a century ahead of time in our history has a stage. But the Sucessorium still maintained similar techniques, spreading terror to ensure their survival and secrecy from humans.

Thus, also the protagonist, Richard Morgan is a man who had access to studies in Europe and surprisingly finds himself tied to the responsibility of the pack's leadership.

He is one of the main captains of a Corsican'fleet of ships that served the Sucessorium in controlling the laws and his Court.

The rest, you will discover with the challenges in the search for the Pieces of 4, in the middle of Battle do Siege.

It was perhaps one of the worst fights between sorcerers and wolves in Chabone.

A cursed object of great power. In a power struggle, what wolves and sorcerers would not do to use that power ...

Especially when, after centuries, once again the witch protected by the wolves walked among them.

Good reading

Marxcia Gioseffi

(Faite CassieK) nickname

The forest was dark.

A new moon was shining in a cloudless sky.

Even so, she kept running, oblivious to the branches of the lower trees that scraped the skin, without feeling the slight injuries in the desperation to get out of there.

It was her fifteenth birthday.

The night should have been happy and festive. The castle was decorated and the cooks engaged in a frantic activity in the kitchen in the preparation of delicacies. She simply crossed the big tables like any servant to find refuge in a place other than the imposing castle of Scarlet.

Winter was approaching.

It wouldn't be long before the snow covered the fields.

Many looked forward to the time with satisfaction for the celebration of the choice of the promised one.

Kassuim was not a young woman like any other. First, no one knew that she was a girl. Many people teased the different male name since she did not carry blood family heirlooms. There was also the significant detail that the men of that clan mastered the ability to change shape, becoming wolves.

She was not a wolf.

She had been welcomed as a child by the family who lived in the castle. It was not uncommon at that time for wealthy families to host orphaned children. She had lost her mother when she was a child. She always listened. The intriguing fact was that the young woman showed skills that were little tolerated for the troubled time in which they lived.

She was a witch.

For two centuries this world was protected from human knowledge. They said that at the beginning of time, power was unique.

There was no distinction between sorcerers and wolves. Only times changed, brought wars and the power was corrupted and cursed. Innocent blood had been spilt and two species had made enemies. A natural predator of sorcerers was a wolf. Wolves could just smell the scent of magic in the distance. Some commented that the smell was unmistakable; an essence impregnated with cinnamon and jasmine

It just didn't matter that day anymore.

She was tired of hiding, trying to look like she wasn't. The temper was too rebellious, too explosive. The father of creation always complained about how reckless she was.

Kassuim had never cared until that night.

The overlord of those lands would start the festive ball.

The opportunity - planned after the council of elders in the clan had recognized the future chief of the wolves - was eagerly awaited.

Alpha would be presented to all the people. It was only natural that his mate should be chosen at the same time. It was necessary to guarantee the inheritance of their species.

Adolescence brought a dizzying whirlwind of emotions.

She was young. A little thin and her face was freckled from life under the sun on a ship's deck.

When a clan of wolves lived and was a sorceress, it didn't seem safe to draw any attention. No one ever seemed very interested in a skinny and clumsy cabin boy. Kassuim was tired of living on a ship. She had been taught from childhood to handle swords and pistols.

It was all very natural for a boy to grow up on the deck of a ship serving their people.

She would rather just forget about that night.

As she ran wildly through the dense black night, she got closer and closer to the forest, with her tears so easily coming out.

All the girls in the clan had been invited to the festival. Her sister with dedication had surprised her with the beautiful dress with puffed sleeves, slim and lacy waist and voluminous skirts that were perfect for a young woman who was going to debut at her first ball.

Kassuim thought for a moment that she might have permission from a foster father to attend the parties. The scent of any sorcerer could be disguised from wolves with a little tear powder. She observes from a distance like any of the girls in the region the man has chosen to assume the alpha position of the pack.

It was considered an honour for the father who had the chosen daughter. She had never worn a dress before.

Only that the beautiful dress was torn and now by the vegetation, while running from the disappointments and sadness, was a bitter reminder of what had been her birthday that day.

Balls were not made for a wizard when living among wolves. Only her dreams fell apart, everything seemed to be over.

He was going to be there.

They would choose a wife for him. A wife who did not have the stain of her inheritance in her blood, a terrible mark of blood contaminated by magic.

Night fell.

Those lands were never safe after dark.

The dense forest and its closed vegetation sheltered large and ancient oak, chestnut and beech trees that were seen with interest by travellers. Like any forest in a temperate climate, its leaves are reduced, going, ranging from a medium orange to gold to brown. Winter was approaching, and some maples and oaks were already losing their leaves to the arrival of cold and low temperatures.

Very soon it would start to snow ...

Numerous shrubs, herbaceous plants, and creepers delayed the young woman's path. Several other animals were frightened by her hurried passage like deer. Finally, there are hardly any more lynxes or mountain lions. Occasionally, perhaps, a bear could be seen looking for shelter to hibernate, but it was mostly wolves that dominated those fertile lands. And your guardians. Ancient legends of protectors roamed the forest, preventing intruders from approaching.

The elders of the clan said that they were ancient spirits of warriors who were in charge of the safety of the inhabitants.

It didn't seem to make sense in time.

She didn't even know if she was running in circles, lost. Only the forest looked the same and the darkness was getting faster and faster. Stumbling and falling, Kassuim had already secured a safe distance from the castle so they wouldn't come looking for her. She didn't care if the place was dangerous. Only the startled scream escaped her throat when she hit something.

Now that it was dark, she couldn't see what had caught her foot. The hands felt the air, seeking any support when fell. Puffing out great gulps of air, she rolled on her side, shrinking, falling amid the large, damp ferns. Lying there alone, she couldn't assess how much time had passed. Beams of moonlight could not be seen seeping between branches of large trees. The night was dark.

Was it always like that inside the forest, the damp, cold darkness? Involuntarily she shivered. The memory of the father returned to memory. She could still see his face look cold, or hear the words spoken slowly and precisely. She would never be accepted. The emotionless expressions were as if they were strangers.

She was just dizzy and unable to understand. Everything felt like a nightmare and she couldn't escape. It has probably been a long time. It didn't matter.

She stayed there for hours when she became aware of what was going on around her. Her skin tightened when the first snowflakes began to fall. She had never enjoyed the winter before. The body is numb with cramps makes any movement difficult.

There was a rough sniffing close by. Suddenly, a quiet and silent movement approached. Kassuim rolled her eyes, looking at the darkness.

It was terrible that it was a snowstorm. Shouldn't have stayed there that long. She tried to move her body with movements and capture steps.

Would they be transformed?

The blood froze in her veins as she imagined those scary and violent creatures. Unlike wolves, they were unpredictable, bloodthirsty and unreasonable animals. She should have brought a pistol. She cannot have been so careless when venturing into the depths of the forest without any weapon and was frightened to get up staggering with absolute conviction that her legs could not try to escape from there.

- Salut! Who's there? Hello. - Shouted. - Bonne Nuit ...

There was only silence.

She knew she shouldn't show any fear, but her eyes widened, trying to see the darkness when something hit her with a furious growl making her fall to the floor. Another loud, high-pitched scream echoed through the forest followed by a groan.

The second impact was interrupted in an attempt to breathe.

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