The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

Right on time, Sergey appeared in the hallway. “Larry, my brother from another mother!” He gave him a hug, they had bonded during the time they were watching and protecting Jessie her first time here. I had asked him to keep Larry close, but allow him time to grieve if he needed it. We walked out the doors to the back yard where the Pack was gathered, leaving our clothes on the rail and shifting into our wolves. John’s wolf was large, almost as big as Konstantin or Viktor, and a sleek silver grey. My white and grey wolf only came up to his shoulders, and I quickly rubbed myself along his sides. My wolf wanted to be drowned in his scent, and she wanted every bitch who got close to know this wolf was taken.

Viktor howled, and turned for the woods with Marina at his side. Konstantin, Patrick and Mischa were in a line behind him, and we joined the next line with his Betas since we were guests. The pace was easy, and in the glow of the moon the Russian countryside was beautiful; we were in the hills and mountains of a large nature preserve, and Viktor’s men had made sure no humans were around. I let my wolf take over, just watching the world through her eyes. She loved to run with her mate, playfully nipping at his shoulder or bumping against him as we ran.

Two hours later, the Pack was close to home and the groups started to break up on what must have been a signal from Alpha Viktor. “At the end of a run, our wolves tend to be riled up and horny. Pairs will break off to get some alone time, while the others return to the house,” he said.

“We need to follow Patrick and Mischa,” I said. Konstantin stayed with them as they headed back to the Pack House, the dutiful older brother making sure his underage sister was protected. When we got back to the house, we all shifted and pulled on our robes. “Can we talk somewhere private,” I asked them.

“As long as Konstantin is along, sure,” Mischa said. “Come on, my parents have a hot tub on their back porch, and I could use a good soak after the run.” That sounded really good, and soon we were relaxing in the steaming waters as the cool night surrounded us. Konstantin set down a cooler filled with bottled water and beer before tossing his robe aside and getting in; I was with John on one side of the eight-person tub, while Mischa was on my right, and Konstantin across from us.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I took a long drink of the offered water, then got down to business. “I wanted to talk to you two before anyone else,” I said as I leaned back on John’s shoulder. “We have decided to take the Alpha positions at the Moscow Pack.”

Mischa shrieked, and Konstantin and Patrick both smiled before Patrick held out his hand. “Pay up,” he told Konstantin.

“My wallet is in my room, I’m good for it,” he said with a laugh.

“You guys bet on me?”

Patrick nodded. “Easy money. I knew that the more time you spent there, the easier it would be to accept. Once I had the young ones on my side, it was over.”

“You guys will be great there. Patrick told me when he left for the Moscow Pack that it was only training for us, that our future wasn’t there.” She kissed him, then looked back at us. “Really, we’re fine with it. Mom and Dad will be thrilled because they will now have an ally to the West, and I’m happy because I get to see you guys more. They would never let me study in Moscow if Yuri was in charge, but now I can talk them into it.”

“This calls for a toast,” Konstantin said as he hoisted his beer. “To John and Jessie, the next Alphas of the Moscow Pack. May their reign be long and prosperous.” I held my water bottle out, clinking it against the beer cans and Mischa’s water before we drank to it.

The next morning came way too early, and I whined to John as he tried to wake me up. “Noooo… Let me sleep!”

“We can sleep in the car,” he said. “We need to get going if we’re going to make mass in Sergiyev Posad.” I got up and got moving, I owed it to Father Kempechny to pay my respects. It wasn’t even six when we were on the road, having said our goodbyes the night before. I slept with my head on John’s legs until we arrived at the cemetery. John led me over to the simple headstone that marked his grave. I knelt down, leaving flowers, and said a prayer for him.

I owed him so much.

We walked in to the Russian Orthodox church that was only a few blocks from where my mother and grandmother had lived and sat near the back for the service. As we were getting up to leave, one of the older priests stopped me in the aisle. “Miss Donato,” he asked quietly, “May I have a moment?”

“Certainly,” I said, and he led our group to a side room. When we were sitting down around a table, another priest came in carrying a box which he placed in front of me. “What is this?”

“We do not know,” he said. “When Father Kempechny’s room was being cleared out after his death, we found this under his bed. It was wrapped in cloth, and inside was a letter with specific instructions. I’m thankful you are the one to receive it.” He got up and followed the other priest to the door. “May you use your powers wisely, young witches. May God be with you,” he said before he left us alone.

My mouth was hanging open. “He knows,” I said. “How could he know?”

“I do not know,” John said. “He must have known about Father Kempechny’s power, maybe even before he died. Who knows what secrets these priests have been hiding?” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think of his farewell. It’s like he knew the Father passed his powers to you.”

“You have them too, you know,” I said as I sat back down. “In any case, he didn’t want to stick around and see what was in the package.” I opened the box, which was the size of a shirt box but thicker and heavier. Inside was a leather-covered book, embossed and marked with a title in Cyrillic letters. “What does it say,” I asked, written Russian still being difficult for me.

“Book of Spells,” my driver said.

I opened the book, the handwritten pages in a mix of English, Russian and Latin. “This is going to take some time,” I said.

“We can look in the car,” John said. “We have to leave soon if we are going to talk to the Council before the funerals at moonrise tonight.” He was right, our day was tightly scheduled. I put the book back in the box and held it under my arm as we got up again.

The trip back to Moscow went quickly as I looked through the hundreds of pages of the book he left me. Reading the portions in English, it was more of a training manual than a spell book; the writing was in several different person’s writing as I went through, and it probably had been handed down over many generations. I was near the back, in the last section of the book that was written with the Father’s distinctive penmanship, when my heart stopped.

“Binding of Werewolves,” the title said. I read on, learning things about my species I was not aware of. There were different spells, ranging from “freezing” a werewolf in their animal form or preventing one from changing into their wolf form. The most intricate spell buried the werewolf so deep the person could not feel or use their wolf. The spell required the blood of the person being bound and had an ‘out.’

“The animal part of the wolf is completely bound, but it is not destroyed. In all ways the person will appear fully human, possessing no identifiable scent or characteristics of a werewolf. The mating bond remains, as no spell is more powerful than the link between souls the Moon gave the pair. The human’s mate will still sense his pair, and the mating will break the spell and release the wolf. The only true ‘cure’ for a werewolf is to kill the wolf with an overdose of wolfsbane. Kill the wolf and you kill the bond, cursing the mate to a lifetime of loneliness.”

My hand moved over my chest as I realized what he had done.

“Shit, that doesn’t help Larry at all,” John said. “I was hoping there would be a way to break the bond without killing his wolf.”

“We should talk to him about killing his wolf after she is gone,” I said. “At least then he has a chance at a normal human life.”

“Not the life he grew up with,” I said. “There has to be another way.”

********

“The whole question here is: am I a monster, or a victim myself?”

― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

Elizaveta’s POV

As the sole resident of the cells below the mountain headquarters of the Council, I was utterly and completely isolated.

The keepers had little reason to be here; I was kept chained to a wall in a small cell with a pad on the floor for a bed and a bucket for a toilet. The interrogation sessions had been the highlight of my time here, but they had all the answers they needed now. I had no reason to hold back; no honor to save, no friends to protect, no life to bargain for. I gave them everything I did and everything I knew, and then they brought me back here to wait my execution.

“Our mate is still with us,” my wolf told me. She didn’t want to talk to me about anything else, she was utterly and completely Team Larry.

“Better if he never met us,” I replied.

“Better if you had listened to me and never made the deal with that shedevil,” she told me. “Your brother might have died but you would still have a life. Now, even your brother has denied you.” The interrogators had shown me a video they made when Pascha was interrogated. He had no knowledge of my deal, just like I had told them. He said that if he could go back and trade his life for the choices I had made, he would do it in a heartbeat. I was no sister to him, not after all I did.