Chapter 2: Dante (Lunar Cycles)

(Art done by @Fangsyrup on insta)

When I woke up in the stables I felt the usual disorientation I got after a night of running under the full moon. My hearing felt muffled like I was wearing earphones and my sense of taste and scent was overwhelmed by the stag I hunted the night before. Getting my bearings together I manage to clean my face at the basin we used to clean up after a successful hunt. Throwing on the t-shirt and sweatpants I had laid out before shifting I left the empty stable. I have been the last one to shift back these past few weeks. The only explanation I can give is that I'm getting closer to becoming the patriarch of my hunt. My mother once said that when she became matriarch she stayed shifted for three days straight. I can only wonder how that must of felt for her. To be a human turned werewolf and also a matriarch, that transition must have been incredibly overwhelming. 

By the time I was born my mother was already the fierce leader I know today and I trace the darkening symbol on my chest through my shirt. The mark of the hunt. Right now it was only a circle representing the moon. It was still missing the twin crescents that point outward on either side as they still adorned my mother's chest. One day they will leave her and fill their spot on my chest and I will become the head of the hunt. I can only hope to be half the leader she is. 

I'm partially blinded as I step into the light of the morning sun where I'm met with my older sister, Rayen, who was waiting for me in the space between the house and the stables. 

"Mom's waiting for you in the conference room, y'all are about to have a meeting." She says bluntly before turning to head inside. 

"A meeting? With who?" I ask following her inside. 

"Some witch." That is all she responds with. "Just ask mom."

I do just that as I head to the small library we use as a conference room. A meeting with a witch? Why the hell would we be meeting with witches? Shifter relations with witches may not be as bad as it is with vampires but that doesn't make it good either. Last time I heard of witches and shifters meeting it was a hostage situation with the Magistrate's executioners refusing to release a wolf who had turned a human. The process ended up killing the human during the shift and even though the human accepted the turn consensually, the fact that the wolf's bite turned her was all reason the executioners needed to take him out. There was going to be a "trial" but the wolf's hunt knew it wasn't going to be fair so during their meeting they tried to break them out. In the end, the wolf and his hunt were wiped out.

"Rayen just said that we're meeting with a witch, is that true?" I asked my mom as I enter the study. She's sitting at the conference table staring intently at her computer. She wore a floral flowing dress that touched her knees with leather-strapped sandals. She dressed so delicately for someone who could rip your head off. 

"It is. They will be here soon so I'm hoping you don't plan on wearing that." She said gesturing to my attire. 

"No, but that's not the point. Why are we meeting with a witch?" I ask. 

"Because they need something from us and are willing to make it worth our while. The least we can do is hear out their offer." She said simply.

"What could they possibly give us to make helping them worth our while." I queried 

"Security, protection, stability and, a place to settle down." Her words made me fall quiet. "If a witch is willing to make a deal with a hunt of outcast wolves then we can guess that they are just as desperate as we are." In all honesty, our hunt was in a bad spot. My father was a black dire wolf, a strong bloodline descended from some of the first shifters. For centuries the hierarchy of shifters like my father has carried the children of the moon, each being heads of their hunts for as long as it can be remembered. And then my mom came along. 

It was impossible for anyone to predict, but when my father turned my mother the mark of the hunt went to her. A turned werewolf leading a hunt of dire werewolves was considered blasphemy amongst many of the dire shifter packs. This had caused us to be somewhat outcasted by other wolves and it made it hard to keep territory. It was manageable at first, but two months after I turned fifteen the worst happen.  

We knew we weren't well-liked by other wolves but to be attacked by our own kind was something we never expected. It was an extremist back of grey dire wolves from Europe who attacked us on the long night of the winter solstice. The night is usually spent celebrating our connection to the moon but instead, it was a night of bloodshed. By dawn, we had been able to fight off most of them and kill their Head at the time, but we had lost greatly as well. My aunt Naiyra and my brother Wayne died that day, and none of us were the same.

My Thomas was left to raise their twins without a mom and all of us were left with holes in our hearts. The hunt that attacked us went into hiding but it's near impossible to search for them while also constantly having the fear of being attacked once again. My sister who was once snarky and witty became quiet and reserved with a look of anger always on her face, which I don't blame her for having. My cousins who were once a duo of mischief have become absorbed into electronics. My dad doesn't crack jokes anymore and instead searches the perimeter of wherever we are every hour on the hour. Lastly, my mom has thrown herself into her responsibilities as Matriarch and with it teaching me for when I take over. Every day I pray that she doesn't blame herself for Wayne or Naiyra.

As for me well all I can do is look to the future. I am going to be Patriarch when I turn twenty-one so I need to focus on what's best for the Hunt and if that means making deals with witches then so be it. I change into something resembling business casual and wait for the aforementioned witch. With a knock at the door, my mother and I are met with a curly hair dirty-blond individual in motorcycle gear holding a helmet. 

"You must be the Head and future head of the Cross hunt. My name is Shay Taylor." The individual said calmly and respectfully, which was surprising considering Shay Taylor was known for being the Magistrate's top execution once upon a time.

"It's a pleasure, Shay. I'm Mei Cross and this is my son Dante Cross." My mother says as she welcomes them into our home. I'm going to be honest, and admit I thought Shay Taylor was a myth. A ghost story to have the children of the moon and night to behave or the Magistrate would send the last refinement witch slice you up. The Taylor family was a part of the refinement coven which basically disappeared overnight. They were before my time so I didn't know what to believe. However, standing here with them in front of me I can only guess that they were in their early thirties. This strikes me as odd since the stories of them happened over ten years ago. To hold such an intimidating reputation at such a young age was both impressive and terrifying.

We set up in the conference room and the witch starts pulling out manilla folders stuffed to the brim with paperwork.  After setting them into two distinct piles they pose a question. "What would you like to hear first? What I have to offer you or what I need from you?" They ask. I glance at my mother's sea-green eyes before looking back at Shay.

"What you need," I answer. They smirk before sliding the folder to their left across to us. Opening the bland folder we see dozens of images of men and women of all ages in crime scene photos with bite wounds and looking like sundried raisins. "Vampires," I mutter.

"Mostly Fledglings but we did kill a highborn recently," Shay stated, "We've been dealing with them since the end of summer but they just keep throwing themselves at us. It's annoying at this point. So what I need from your hunt is to do what predators do best and handle this invasive species in my ecosystem."

"And what you can offer?" My mother interjects. Shay then slid over the remaining folder to us. In this one, it was a list of properties, bank statements, and information of the town known as Little Star.

"Like I said when I first reached out to you I am willing to meet any accommodation you need. with my connections, I can get you any home you like, I can get the little ones of your family into any school you want, all that along with being able to sleep safely behind the wards." They finish.

"It sound's like you won't us to risk our lives to fight your battles all for materialistic rewards." My mother concludes. 

"We both know a place as protected as Little Star is the safest place for you to live." Shay countered. 

"I doubt your family would agree." I almost slap my hand over my mouth at my mother's comment. "Whatever happened to them hm? One of the most influential families of chaos witches and almost the entirety of the Refinement coven gone overnight and you expect us to what? Fluff your numbers of a measly two witch coven so you don't look as pathetic as you are in a town that I doubt you believe is safe."

"Three," The witch said, "We have three witches now, me, you are familiar with the garden witch Rosita, and lastly Sawyer." They paused for what seemed to be for dramatic effect, "A newborn."

My stomach dropped at the word as I instinctively yelled "Bullshit!". My mother held out her hand signaling for me to calm down even though I can hear her heartbeat stirring just as much as mine. 

"A newborn? In your tiny town of Little Star? It's a bold claim so forgive me if I call your bluff." Says my mother not backing down from their bravado. 

"Here I all I have here is my word, but what if I'm not lying. What if I have I do have the strongest witch that currently exists in my little insignificant town that just so happened to be passed down from generation to generation since the chaos newborn himself? You know he will become Magistrate when he's twenty-five like all newborns do and so will his oldest children." Shay says proposing a bigger play. "Meet Sawyer, then make a decision. Until then you have my contact." and just like that, they left us sitting with a hypothetical bombshell.

If Shay was telling the truth then yes, moving to Little Star would be the best bet but risking our lives for witches feels so demeaning. Especially with the history of the Refinement coven specifically.  However, to form an alliance with a newborn was like making a pact with a god and gods can be spiteful when you piss them off. It was a fifty-fifty chance of going either way and that's only true if Sawyer is an actual newborn. 

My mother and I sit in the conference room reviewing all the information we were given by Shay but it was hard to focus with the rest of the Hunt buzzing around us like a hive of bees. The vampire case is simple enough on our end. We would only need to patrol the areas near the roads since that is where people are usually taken. Finding out why will stay the witches' problem. I can't say the properties aren't nice because they trumped anything we ever stayed in. We never had to worry about money but that doesn't mean we are living in luxury. 

"It has to be a trap." My sister voiced her opinion, "They have to be trying to trick us or something."

"What makes you say that?" My uncle Ulven ask. He was Naiya's husband and came from a Brown dire back out west. 

"It's too good of a deal." Rayen says slapping the list of properties on the table, "The risk is minimal to the reward so they have to be keeping something from us. They completely avoided the question of what happened to their family." 

"I didn't ask that for an answer." my mother states. "I did it to gauge their reaction and they didn't flinch. So either they don't think it's something that will affect us or they are just a sociopath. Either way, they didn't lie."

"Not even about the newborn?" My father, Samiel asked in a tight and serious tone. My mother simply nodded. "If they are willing to reveal that to us they must think we are somewhat honorable." That is true. Tell the wrong hunt of shifters that there is a young newborn witch walking around that boy would have a target on his back. 

"Or maybe it's a scare tactic. Fuck us over and he will wipe you out." My sister suggested.  

"We don't know that," my uncle began, "We don't know how old he is, what kind of magic technique he uses, nothing! All we have is speculation." 

"You're right," My mother says before looking at me, "That's why Dante is going to meet him." My heart dropped at the idea but I did my best to keep my composure in front of everyone.

"O-okay, may I ask why?" I ask.

"Yeah, why him? You're matriarch you should do it." Rayen butts in. Our mother simply stares at us and we both go silent. 

"I am matriarch, and soon Dante will be patriarch. This decision will greatly impact the hunt that he will inherit. The hunt you would protect with your life, Dante?" My mother turns the question to me. With all the courage I could muster I nodded. 

"Yes," I say as my mom gives me a soft smile.

"Then I have every reason to believe that you will make the best decision for your family. Besides, it's likely that the newborn is still young, if he were any older we would have heard about him by now." My mother clarifies.

She had a point. Shay said that the newborn would take over as magistrate when he turns twenty-five which means he was younger than that at the moment. They also insinuated that he was capable of protecting us which means they were old enough to fight. With this range of information that puts the newborn around my age. Knowing my mother she probably already came to this conclusion. If we were right it could make it easier to get to know him if I was the one to be the first to meet him. 

It was for the hunt so I was obviously going to do it, but it didn't stop me from feeling slimy. Obviously, everyone had ulterior motives and I shouldn't have to feel guilty about mine. But. But, but, but. But I just don't want to use this person like that. Newborns don't have any say in being the miracle witch born to start a new bloodline just as much as I have a say in being the next Head of the Hunt. At the end of the day, however, the matter was already settled. We would probably meet sometime next week and I would have to balance the tightrope between conversation and interrogation. 

The hunt meeting lasted into the late day. The mental weight of this decision led me to pass out on my bed, still in my attire from the meeting. I was slowly ready to take a cat nap before a knock on the door stirred me awake. Looking to my doorway I saw my sister standing there. 

"You can't agree to this." She said bluntly.  

"Why not?" I ask sitting up on my bed. 

"Because witches can't be trusted. They just want us to do their dirty work." She says in a muffled tone while closing the door behind her.

"That may be true but protection behind the wards sounds a lot better than fending for ourselves out here. At least there we know what we are up against." She scoffs at my remark.

"That only if they aren't LYING," she says like I am the stupidest person in the room to which I simply roll my eyes.

"I'll make my decision after I meet the newborn." I simply stated.

With a huff, my sister leaves the room and I can finally rest. As I find myself drifting in sleep I can't help but think of the newborn, Sawyer. Who was he? How did he think? What did he like? For now, he was a mystery to me.