Forced Mate

21: Màthair

December 29.

Tomorrow night is Hayes' ritual. I haven't heard anything else from Mr. Richards or Sarah. Nor has there been any interferences from Jaxon or Hayes. A wary sense of peace has come over me, as though I want to believe everything is going to be alright, but am unsure if that's totally true. It seems too good to be true, honestly, that this all could be over. That I can go back to Jaxon...or not.

My heart races when I think of remaining hidden from him. As long as I have this necklace on, no matter where I go, he can't find me. And I could go anywhere. I may never shift, though, if I do that. But at this point, do I even want to? It's been so long since I was supposed to shift that, now, I feel like a human anyway. I'm weak like one. The only "supernatural" qualities I possess are the telepathic communications and energy absorption. Although humans can't do those things, I'm certainly more human than I am werewolf.

I wonder what my father would tell me—probably to surrender and go back to him, mainly because he's my mate. My mom, on the other hand, would probably tell me to leave him—she's good at that. Leaving. Disappearing. If only I knew where she was, I could ask her how she did it so easily. How she left her mate and her fourteen year old daughter alone, ultimately orphaning her daughter because her mate was too weak for the heartbreak.

Bitch.

I hate her. With every fiber of my being. I try to keep it buried, keep it contained, because I don't want hatred or anger consuming me. But I can't hold it in, now that no one's around. I'm finally alone. I can release it, for once. So I do. I pace, pant, beat my fists against the mattress, and scream into my pillow. I yell profanities at her until my throat is raw. I'm out of my mind, yelling. The words become unintelligible. Am I even speaking English anymore?

The mattress shakes, as does the room, as if there's an earthquake outside. The blinds and curtains fly off the window, and other loose items in the room join them as they swirl about, like a twister in the small space. Blackness pools in and blankets everything along with bursts of purple glitters that shimmer before my eyes. 

My lips are still moving, but I'm not controlling them anymore. I crane my ear to hear what I'm uttering, "...Odio meum sanguinem, in amator proditione, mater nimio amore sui, maledictionem super caput tuum." Latin? It's the same sentence, over and over and over. Through the darkness, I stare into the mirror adjacent to the bed. My brown hair is whipping about me in spirals, and my eyes are glowing—a bright amethyst. Like Sarah's. They shine brightest in the darkness and I squeeze my lids shut. 

When I open my eyes again, they're still that odd color. My lips are still moving. The room is still quaking. The wind is still twisting. How do I make it stop? Make it stop!

Amongst the chaos, I hear a still, small voice in the back of my mind, whispering to me, "Factum est." It repeats it continuously, growing louder and louder until I recognize that tone—my wolf.

"F-Factum est!" I finally regain control of my faculties enough to move my lips. Everything stills. The objects that were swept around the room drop to the floor. My hair drops over my face and quietude settles again.

I anxiously sweep the strands out of my eyes and look to the mirror again. My eyes have returned to their natural blue-green. But the necklace is no longer around my neck. "Shit, shit, shit," I mumble, searching the covers for it. The purple stone glints at me from underneath the nearby table, the leather string torn to shreds. "Oh, fuck—"

Just as I've finished speaking, the door to my hotel room is kicked in with a loud bang! I shriek and roll off the back of the bed in surprise. Multiple footsteps sound against the floor and multiple sets of hands grab at me to stand me up. The runes on their skin and the long hair gives them away—they're from Mistletoe. I've never seen any of them before now. I fight against the grips of the men holding my arms, but without my wolf, I'm powerless.

"No!" I shout, kicking, screaming, and jerking around. They speak to one another in a language I don't understand.

"Yara! Tha i againn. Dè bu chòir dhuinn a dhèanamh a-nis?" The one to my right says toward the open door. Who's he talking to? Yara? Familiarity washes over me, but I push it aside and scoff to myself. It can't be.

Moments of silence pass by, until a woman enters through the doorway. She's wearing a long dress, like something out of the Middle Ages, and her braided locks fall down to her waist. I can tell she has power just by the aura she gives off.

"Bidh sinn ga toirt air ais tron portal a-nis," She responds to the men and they begin to tug me forward, toward her. I don't look her in the eye. I can't. This isn't possible. I mean, I suppose it is, but how?

A soft hand cups my cheek, turning my eyes to those that are identical to mine. "Isabelle," She sighs, running a hand over the top of my head and down to my shoulder. "I've missed you."

"I don't—" I begin, but she silences me with a wave of her hand and murmurs a low incantation. A circle of darkness and blue shimmers manifests from nothing and I stumble back. Held in place by the two men, I still struggle away from the circle. I don't know much about magic, but I know enough to know this is a portal. A portal to Hayes. "No!" I scream again, fighting relentlessly against the bastards who have my arms secured in vice-like grips.

"Shh, shh," She hushes me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, "my child. We're going home now." Her smile fades when she looks to the Mistletoe soldiers, "Gabh i."

Then I'm thrust into the darkness, falling, falling, falling, and landing on a patch of moss that's definitely not in the busy, Southern Alabama city I was previously in. I recognize these woods.

"Isabelle," I sit up at the sound of the voice and meet those shining green eyes and long, flowing, blonde hair. "Welcome home."

A/N: Hello everyone! Short update to satisfy your cravings. I've been really busy with my thesis, but I decided to give y'all a little something to tide you over!

1) What did you think of the chapter?

2) Should Isabelle abandon Jaxon?

3) What's happening to Isabelle? Any ideas?

xoxo,

IC Judah