Of Magic And Monsters

11. Of Talks and Feelings

Chapter Eleven

Of Talks and Feelings

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"Has anyone ever told you that you're full of shit?"

Alastair still laughed, even over my words. He stood by the ceiling-sized window that showed the underwater of the lake. Without his robe, he wore slim-fitting black pants and a white polka-dot button-up shirt. Alastair faced me with his signature grin. Being a fallen angel, he was unfairly beautiful and often used that to his advantage. "You know I like to play," he reasoned. "Werewolves are too easy to poke."

I glared at him. "Sure, but not my werewolf."

His eyebrows rose at that. "Your werewolf? Have you grown a heart, my love?"

"Seriously, what was that back there? I am so royally pissed off at you right now."

Alastair waved his hand at me. "Oh, lighten up. I'm sure you will patch things up with him just fine. I couldn't help myself. Alphas are all the same. Would you like some tea?" He poured himself a glass in what I presumed was ancient china.

"No," I snapped. "What I want is that damn powder and my mate back." I pressed my lips together. Did I just say that?

He eyed me knowingly. "Ah, what an interesting thing to witness. The Moon Goddess really is powerful with her mating touch." Alastair sipped at his tea as he peered at me over the glass. "Perhaps I feel a bit badly for getting a rise out of a guest. You can have the powder for free. I presume you won't be doing the ritual?"

"No. We have another magic-user."

Alastair leaned against his desk, folding one ankle over the other. "This is all for Charles?"

"How did you know that?"

He tapped his heads. "Angels know everything."

"Fallen angel," I corrected

He rolled his eyes. "Semantics. Tell your werewolf boyfriend I apologize for my mischievous behaviour." Alastair grabbed a black box off of his desk and sauntered over to me. He placed it in my hands. "Here. It's enough only to use on one werewolf." Not yet letting go of the box, Alastair peered down at me with observing eyes. "I really did love you, you know."

I smirked up at him. "For all the wrong reasons."

"Right, again." He took a step back. "You may go to the dungeon to fetch your alpha. Though, be aware, I've notified my guards not to let him out until he poses no threat to my people."

I never usually feel nervous. Nerves are for people who lack confidence. Well, that was what I always believed growing up. Maybe it was told to me; I couldn't remember. Those same nerves ate away at my stomach, tickled my arms, and made my lungs feel sore as I ventured down to the deepest level of the mansion. Alastair didn't have many dungeons being used. Each was its own room, with golden doors and silver handles.

Two guards stood in front of one, both carrying silver weapons. Alastair must have notified them of my arrival because they let me inside of the room without speaking a word. The door shut behind me with an echoing thud. Inside, the walls were such a bright white, it made my eyes sting. The LED lights above didn't help, nor the floors or ceiling. There was no furniture. Just the four walls.

Dominic sat against the wall opposite me with his knees pulled up to his chest and his face hidden behind bloody arms. His clothes were torn to shreds, only his shorts providing a purpose. Bruises marred his skin, some already healing away.