Magic and Wolves: Book 1 of West Mountain

Focus, You Don't Want to Blow Up the House

The town would look something like this. with lots of houses in the woods and even more high peaks., The mountains are similar to what you would find in Colorado or Switzerland. ^^^^

Hammer pulled his motorcycle into the garage attached to his small bungalow house. He quickly walked through the garage door and into his home. It had gotten dark out and he activated the lights with a small touch of his magic. Instead of harsh bright lights, the room was lit by the soft light of multitudes of glowing orbs casting a soft glow around his open concept home.

He had completely rebuilt the house, changing its interior. The kitchen flowed freely into what was the living room and his bedroom. Filled with a king-sized bed, built in bookshelves and cabinets lined the walls, filled with multitudes of books and movies. A large tv was mounted on the wall. One door went to a huge master bath with a large walk-in rain shower and a sunken jacuzzi tub.

Hammer had spent months working on this house, gutting it completely and rebuilding it with a few hired men. He was proud of what he had created with his own hands, sweat and hard labor. He hadn't used any magic, just pure manual labor.

He walked through the second door in the house into the only other room. It was a huge work room with multiple tables. Most of the tables were covered with different potted plants, one was empty and in the center of the room, and another smaller was being used as a desk with a laptop, printer and papers covering it. More built-in shelves and cabinets were along the walls, filled with innumerable objects from the mundane, feathers and crystals, to the extraordinary, a jar labeled salamander testicles was one. There were no windows, but the ceiling was mostly skylights.

Hammer sighed deeply as he walked into his workshop, he let another whisper of power out and the orbs glowed to life in this room as well. He reached out with his power and checked the wards around his home, making sure they were secure and untampered with.

With everything normal Hammer relaxed slightly.

"Just one last step." He muttered, "then they won't be able to find me."

Hammer thought about what his life had become while he prepared the spell he was about to perform. Two years before he was a highly respected mage and potion maker for his birth coven, his father and grandfather and many before them had been the highest-ranking members of this coven, the Merlin, who ruled along with the council. His father had grand hopes that Hammer would one day lead the coven as Merlin.

Hammer didn't have the drive for power his family did, he just wanted to do magic because he loved it. Not to be the most powerful. He found so much peace and joy in creating potions and magical objects to aid his fellow mages. Mages like himself could harness the power and energy of the world around them but like all energy it had its limits.

Mages could do many powerful things without the use of rituals or potions or other tools, but they could only do so much before their energy gave out. He spent his time creating potions, tools to aid in magic use and focus and anything else he would think of to push what he knew about magic and help himself and other mages have to spend less time doing rituals and use less energy in the spells they used.

This is how he got the nickname Hammer; he was always creating things with or without magic. He had started building things and working with his hands as soon as he was able to. Many of the pieces of furniture in his home he had built himself. Anything to keep his hands busy, this is also why he played the guitar.

He had stayed with his coven blissfully happy until one day he reached a breaking point. Despite all his intelligence, he didn't always know what they were being used for. Higher ranking mages would tell him he didn't need to know. But 2 years ago, he found out.

He didn't know that his coven had been slowly taken over by a cult that believed in Species purity and a systematic cleansing of the Fae. Attacking and killing different Fae beings and mages who had might be Half-Blood. Even those who had a Half-Blood child were hunted down. They wanted to wipe out all they considered to have 'tainted' blood.

Hammer ran the night he found out from his friend Alistar. Alistar had warned him about the fall of the coven and the cults plans for him. He took what he could carry and ran. Luckily, he had a large trust fund that he could use to set himself up anywhere. He now had his home, in a town that was one of the sanctuaries for any and all Fae to live and co-habituate, it was still rare, it was difficult for some Fae species to mingle but Hammer hoped it would become more common.

After two years he was ready to live again. He had come to a new country. He was ready to open a new business, using his potion making skills to create things like candles, shampoos and lotions that aided in health and wellness and now he could finish a permanent masking spell to hide himself from the cult.

Hammer had spent months figuring out a spell to protect himself from the coven's trackers and any scrying they might be using. It was delicate but he had found a way to hide himself from mages but not change himself or his magic.

The tattoo was the last piece he had needed. Hammer felt bad for the number of anal-retentive emails he had sent to Cecilia but if this wasn't perfect it wouldn't work. It was nerve wrecking, going to someone outside the coven to a tattoo artist who wasn't a mage. Tattoos used in spells had to be perfect otherwise the backfires could be explosive, even fatal.

The coven had mages who trained for decades to do this kind of magic and Hammer was winging it. It made him nervous and when he is nervous, he gets very fussy and turns into a perfectionist.

Cecilias face flashed through his thoughts. The moment their eyes met he had felt something otherworldly happen. He briefly wondered if it were possible, they could be mates, but it was extremely rare for mages to find their mates, the energies could get too chaotic between them. He had done some research on the matter, and some of the signs were there, the intoxicating scent, the tingles, the connection he felt despite barely knowing her.

When he had called her A Chuisle he didn't think it would be so fitting. It was a term from his own country, it literally meant Pulse and as soon as their eyes met, and he touched her and felt the sparks flow though him like lightening he knew how accurate that term was for her.

Hammer palmed his forehead. "Focus, you don't want to blow up the house." He took off his shirt revealing several other tattoos, mostly runes along his arms and one on his left peck over his heart, a pentagram enclosed in a circle.

Drawing in a deep breath Hammer got to work.