Lycan Soulmates #1: Onyx Lycan Nightclub [18+]

Part 5 ✧ Onyx Lycan Nightclub ✧ Chapter 5

Silvia's POV

In the Dead of Night

It's cold, Sloan is kicked up on a small dusty old two-seater couch by the fire, watching me sit on a rocking chair.

His 'bat-cave' and 'bunker' was a tiny forest cabin he stole from an elderly couple.

I know because all their family pictures are around but the couple are nowhere to be seen.

I don't question Sloan's acquired 'property' I just know he used whatever magic he could to conceal our presence out here, in the middle of the Wilder Forests.

He's given me a handheld mirror, an antique heirloom; also not his.

I have a cloth over it, preparing to peek in at Dremon. Sloan's idea was for me to approach the Angel Killer and not have him come for me. It was safer if Dremon thought I was succumbing to his new reign on Earth and in Hell.

But I had been doing some thinking.

Some soul-searching.

The demonic way was not my way – murder, bleeding another, stealing another's soul, dark magic... I might be a slut-pup but I was born mortal, I wasn't even a witch.

My heart was still true to my mortal blood, which was leaning toward the light, even though I had no trouble co-existing in the dark.

I knew logically fighting fire with fire only created a bigger fire-storm.

And I knew I couldn't take an innocent life.

So, my desire is a little different this time round – and I knew how to scare Phire off from looking in at me, at least temporarily, to clear my head of his influence in regards to what I was thinking about doing next.

In one hand I hold a kitchen knife, the other the mirror.

"I'm ready," I tell Sloan, "I have a new idea... you just have to trust me."

"Go for it," Sloan isn't scared for me, he's just patient. He's happy to be the look-out and he's just mostly waiting for Onyx. The rest? Was up to me.

This was my chance to take these demon circumstances into my own hands – my own way.

I close my eyes and I think of the birthing pit, full of roses, curling through and around the dead Lycan Queen to Phire and his demonic pack of Lycans.

I take off the cloth from the mirror, and I do not see Lycans – I see the birthing pit.

I want in.

The first time I came here, the mere thought of it was enough to get me through – and I'd never forget the evil magic that permeated this place. It was so strong, I knew it would pull me in again.

That's exactly what happens.

I blink.

I open my eyes, as I'm now standing upon the hot hell-fire soil of Hell. In front of me is the birthing pit. The rose bushes. The polished skeleton.

Onyx and his pack came to life here, and their mother died.

In my hand I still hold the kitchen knife.

I sit down on the ground, looking the polished skull in the hollow eyes.

"There's too much murder," I whisper to the dead Queen, hoping she can hear me, "There's too much darkness. Doom took Onyx from me. Mostly from being scared of doom. We all made a mistake bringing the Angel Killers back," I know it's just a corpse I'm speaking too, but it's helping me make sense of everything, "...the thought of your love... your soulmate who lives... just dying... the thought of Onyx losing his father... I doubt Zarphire even told him to spare him the burden of loaning him his beast... but why does a good Lycan, have to die? Why did Obsidian get to take all that was Zarphire's. Why did you die in childbirth – why did Onyx grow up without a mother or a true father... why did the Angel Killers brutally murder my Lycans who I love so dearly. The answer, I believe, is fear of darkness... right now that's all hell is, a pit of darkness spread through the fear of more darkness, inevitably attracting more and more of it. Even our female light – the soulmates of these demons – we get swallowed by it. I was swallowed by it. So were you. What can I do, besides submit?" I crawl over to her bones, and I turn and lie back into the thorns. They prick my skin and I start to bleed but I don't move off them. I sit back next to her and I press the knife's flat blade against my arm, "I don't have much time," I whisper, "To create light from darkness. I want my pack to live. I want Zarphire to live. I want Onyx to have a father," I switch the blade to the sharp side.