Chapter Twenty-Five
It seemed like she and Sebastian had been stuck in the cold, dark room for days, but it couldn’t have been more than 12 hours. No one came in and out, but food had magically appeared three times now. Meredith helped Sebastian reposition the chains so he could at least move around, but she couldn’t seem to remove it from his body.
“You have to eat more,” she told him as she spooned some stew into his mouth. “You’ve only had three bites of each meal. I know it’s not gourmet, but we need to keep our strength up.”
He turned his head away. “I’m not hungry. You eat it.”
“Fine.” She took his food and began to eat it. God, she was still hungry. This magical baby in her was hungry all the time and—“Hey!” she stood up. “You’ve been giving me your food because you know I’m eating for two.”
Sebastian grimaced. “If you’re anything like Jade, not even both our meals are enough for you and your baby.”
“But you can’t starve yourself for me,” she retorted.
“I was in the Marines, and I was locked up for a whole month by those monsters who took me and turned me into a beast. Believe me, I’ve survived on less.”
“Fine, but you’re going to eat at least half of the next meal, ok?”
“I’ll try,” he assured her.
Before Meredith could answer, the door suddenly flew open and Stefan stepped inside, followed by Victoria. She got a glimpse of the outside, but not enough to tell her where they were, only that it was dark and the ground was covered in snow. Snow at this time of the year? Where were they?
Meredith got into a defensive stance, but Stefan laughed. “What are you going to do, she-wolf? You think you can get to me before I obliterate your body into nothing?”
“You motherfucker! Touch her, and you die!” Sebastian bellowed.
Stefan let out another cackle. “Ah, the Creed Dragon. Tell me, how do you like your new jewelry? As you may have guessed, this is no ordinary chain. It’s made from silver mined from the Zhobghadi mountains. Though to most people, it may seem like ordinary metal, it’s quite effective at subduing dragon shifters.”
“Fucking bastard!” Sebastian let out a yell and struggled against the chain, but it only made him drop to his knees in pain.
“What have you done with Zac, douchebag?” Meredith asked. She turned to Victoria. “Are you going to let this asshole kill your grandson?”
“Why would I do that?” Stefan asked. “Zachary Vrost comes from the bloodline of the most powerful witches in the world. It's a shame it was tainted with dirty Lycan blood, but I’m sure once we bring him up the proper way, he’ll be useful to us.”
“You monster!” Meredith cried.
“Tsk, tsk, don’t worry about it, my dear,” Stefan’s red eyes narrowed into slits. “You won’t be around to see young Zachary grow up to be my most loyal servant.”
“Grant Anderson and Nick Vrost will never let that happen!” Meredith declared. “You know Nick would burn the world down to get his son back.”
“They will never find you,” Stefan declared. He stared at the bracelet on her ankle. “I’ve disabled the tracking device on your little toy. Oh, don’t worry, it’ll still explode if you try to remove it or change into your Lycan form, but your precious clan will never find you.”
“I swear, Stefan,” Sebastian said in a deadly voice. “When I get out of here, I’m going to burn you alive, you motherfucker.”
“Once I figure out how to use the control spell on you,” Stefan began. “You’ll burn the entire New York clan alive. Including your pretty little mate.”
Sebastian let out a rage-filled scream and stood up, struggling against the chains. With a wave of Stefan’s hand, Sebastian disappeared into thin air.
“Where did you send him?” Meredith lunged at Stefan, but he swatted her away like a fly. Her body went flying across the room, hitting the wall.
“I don’t think so, she-wolf,” he sneered. “You will be my prisoner until the day you die. Should Daric or the Alpha try to rescue you, I will kill you before they can get to you. I’m going to enjoy watching my former protégé suffer as you die slowly in front of him.”
Meredith felt a metallic taste in her mouth, and she spat out blood. “Not if the Lycans kill you first.”
Stefan laughed. “Really now? Let’s see how you feel when you see this.” He opened the door of the cabin with a wave of his hand.
Meredith’s eyes widened as she looked outside. The knot in her stomach grew, and though she hated to admit it, they were in serious trouble.
***
Daric cursed as he walked through the empty halls of the Spanish-style villa hidden deep in the Andorran mountains. This was the sixth hideout he’d been to in the last couple of hours, and still no sign of Stefan or the other mages. It was a long shot that the master mage would actually be in one of the places Daric knew about. But still, he had hoped that he could find at least some clue as to where Stefan would be holed up.
Regaining the use of his powers brought him some relief and satisfaction. He had missed being able to flex his magical muscles, and he had forgotten how convenient it was to simply move from place to place using his powers, or create food or drink he wanted. Right now, though, it seemed so empty. Before, his powers made him feel like a God. There was nothing in this world he couldn’t have or create. But this time, he was without the one thing he really wanted—no, needed. The need to hold Meredith in his arms and know she and their child was safe was consuming him. The thoughts of what Stefan could do to her or could be doing to her was driving him mad, and he had to stop every few hours to control his emotions. No, Meredith needed him to be calm and smart. To keep searching.
He walked around the villa some more, trying to collect his thoughts. As he sat on one of the crumbling stone benches in the garden, he stared at the wildflowers that were now overtaking the once-pristine grounds. Wildflowers. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell Meredith’s scent that reminded him so much of his home.
Home.
Daric’s eyes flew open. Lara Chatraine’s words came back to him.
If you search far back enough, you’ll find him.
Not search far enough. Search far back enough.
Daric shot to his feet. Stefan wasn’t talking about distance. He was talking about time. Realization swept over him, and he realized what the mage meant. With a wave of his hand, his street clothes turned into a heavy winter jacket, and his leather shoes became snow boots. He closed his eyes again, imagining the long-forgotten fishing village on the fjord. A chill crept over him, and when he opened his eyes, he was standing on the hill that overlooked his childhood home.
It was twilight, even though it was early yet, as this time of the year, days were much shorter. Overhead, the spectacular northern lights began to appear, illuminating the night sky. That posed a problem. The Aurora borealis, though beautiful, also quickly drained the powers of blessed witches and warlocks. It was one of the reasons his parents decided to move to the village. During the evenings, at least, Signe could have some rest from her visions of the future, while he and his father could still practice their magic during the day or when they stayed outside of the village. Right now, high up in the valley, he could still feel his powers working, but he knew once he went down, he would feel the effects of the aurora borealis like a heavy curtain covering him. It would take more concentration and strength for him to use his powers, and he could be sapped after a few spells. But why would Stefan choose such a place where he would be vulnerable during the long nights?
As Daric walked closer to the edge of the hill and peered down into the valley, he realized why. Among the rundown cottages of his old village, was Stefan’s army. There were maybe a hundred or so men scattered about and even through the curtain of northern lights he could feel the dark magic controlling their minds. Stefan’s top lieutenants were there, too, about twenty mages in total and Daric knew his best puppeteers would be hidden somewhere where they could see and control the humans, but not be exposed to attack. And lastly, he saw Stefan’s first line of defense—about twenty or so full-grown Lycan wolves chained up to posts around the village. Stefan must have figured out how to modify the spell that controlled the humans to work on the Lone Wolves. Being dark magic, the spell didn’t seem to be affected by the northern lights, as both the human and Lycan slaves remained eerily calm and still.
Daric considered his options. He could sneak in, search the huts until he found Meredith, Sebastian, and Zachary Vrost and transport them back to Fenrir. Of course, that meant he could only go to the places he could remember in his mind—his old home and the public areas around the village, which meant he’d be spotted right away. Also, with the northern lights disrupting his powers, he wasn’t sure he’d have enough magical reserves to transport everyone and fight off the mages, humans, and Lone Wolves. With dawn still a few hours away, he’d have to wait and then that would mean Stefan would also have full control and capacity of his powers. He hated to admit it, but toe-to-toe, he was no match for the master mage. Stefan had acquired too many powers and too much magic over the years and Daric had always suspected that the mage was holding back.
He knew what he had to do. It was a risk, but he had no other choice. He needed an army to fight Stefan and get Meredith back. He closed his eyes and focused on his next destination.