Magic and Wolves: Book 1 of West Mountain

Do You Have a Suggestion

Slipping from the window Steffan took a moment to appreciate his surroundings. He hadn't been outside in at least a week and all aspects of himself, human and animal, stopped to appreciate the sensations, the smell of the fresh air and the glass beneath his feet. A cold fall breeze blew around him. The sky was covered with clouds, blocking the moon and sending the area into darkness.

Steffan smirked, his wolf pushing forward, the glow dimming from his eyes. He was barely himself anymore, letting the other parts have control and running purely on instinct and survival.

"The clouds make this so much easier; a little rain wouldn't hurt." He muttered to himself.

Slowly and silently, he moved away from the tiny cabin. He had never been a strong fighter, no more than the average wolf but spending years trying to blend into the background and go as unnoticed as possible made him very skilled at stealth.

He was getting his first real look at where he was. It must have been an abandoned hunting cabin. The trees grew close to the cabin, who ever built it had clearly built it to blend it into the forest. Tents were scattered among the trees, and he could hear the low hum of many voices talking.

He slipped around the trees, moving towards the voices. They had clearly gathered around a campfire. As he neared, he could tell they were arguing, the voices were raised and agitated.

"Why are we taking so many risks Francis? They have to know he's missing by now?"

Steffan crept closer as voices mumbled, he could see silhouettes now, his sharpened senses picking up sights and sounds in the dark. He quickly recognized his main torturer, leaning back in a camp chair, his body language tense and annoyed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, his head propped in one hand the other lazily holding a drink, like a king on a throne.

He was one of the few not talking but he watched, he listened. This was not the man Steffan was used to, in the quiet closed privacy of the cabin, Francis was relaxed, calm and would talk to point of it being a pure stream of consciousness, no real beginning or end, just words and thoughts strung together like Christmas lights.

"Are you afraid of lesser beings Liam? It's a town of abominations and freaks, what threat are they to the Goddess's chosen."

"We waste our chance at the traitor. Who knows if we will find him again?"

"It's too risky to keep your play toy, let alone travel with him. We should kill him, Francis."

These voices all spoke at once arguing over each other. Steffan counted, he wanted an idea of how many there were. There were about 15 by the fire but he could hear others moving in the tents and in the forest. Steffan started to back away he had taken enough risk and time, he needed to move is he hoped to get anywhere.

He slipped away from the fire and back into the forest. Using the moon and landscape around him, he got a general idea of where he might be around which direction to travel in.

Taking in one last calm breath, feeling all aspects of his being: man, wolf and. Unknown, settle into one, Steffan looked into the darkness of the woods.

Then,

Steffan Ran.

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"If we can't track him by scent or magic, our only option is to go look, I don't understand why this is a difficult decision." Carson mumbled. He was frustrated, his usual amiable and snarky demeanor gone. In his mind they had a clear option, standing around talking was not going to find their missing Alpha.

Cecilia looked up slowly, her head moving almost in slow motion. Her hands were braced on the table in front of her as she leaned over a large map. She looked weary, the concern for her Mate showing slightly in her eyes but not in the thin, firm line of her mouth, or the furrow of her eyebrows. She looked ready to snap, her wolf remarkably close to the surface.