Page 1 of Lycan and Lark
ChapterOne
“It’s time,” Creedin ordered.
“Please. No more.” Lark’s eyes were filled with tears he knew he would get beat for later. At only seventeen years old he had already taken the powers of three Chosen. Those poor souls never had a chance once Creedin got his hands on them. Men, women, young, old—it didn’t matter to Creedin. All the man cared about was power.
Lark didn’t think he could handle any more changes, any more abilities, any more voices of pain and despair in his head. The last girl was a mind reader. It had only been a year since he had absorbed her abilities and watched her slowly die. The intense and overwhelming swarms of voices that overtook his mind had him shaking in a ball on the floor for months.
The powers themselves were bad enough, but there were other changes too. His eyes were starting to look different. Their deep-forest color had lightened to a sickly pale yellow. He could no longer decipher what was him, and what was a piece left behind by the others.
“Lark. Get over here, now.” Creedin held up two fingers. Lark knew well what came next.The shocks. They came tearing from Creedin’s fingertips anytime Lark disobeyed him. The energy crackled and burned as it seared its way through his body. The agony never seemed to lessen. He scurried to the table, not wanting to face the shocks this time. Creedin smiled and lowered his hand.
Lark ran his fingers through his soft brown hair. It was a nervous habit he’d had for as long as he could remember. His heart began a frantic rhythm as the familiar straps were once again secured into place. They pinned his body to the stone altar. His right arm was extended toward the second slab, as it always was during these transitions.
Creedin smiled cruelly down upon him. “Do you know what today is, Lark?”
Lark shook his head. Speaking was always too risky.
“It’s your birthday. You’ve survived eighteen years now. I must admit I didn’t think you would make it this long but oh how glad I am that you have.” Creedin nodded at one of his assistants. Lark stared at the opposite end of the cave as three figures emerged. Two lackeys dragged a limp body toward them. “Since it’s your birthday, I’ve procured something special.”
The limp figure was male and appeared to be in his twenties. A large chain was tightly secured around his neck. He looked up, golden eyes going wide with confusion. Blond hair stuck to his sweaty brow. As they moved closer, the man began to struggle, then regained his bearings. One of the lackeys hit the limp man hard across the head.
Lark’s muscles tensed as he watched the events unfold. The victims were usually unconscious, or at least dazed. When the man raised his head again, his eyes were glowing. Lark gasped. The man continued to fight as they secured him to the stone slab next to Lark. The man’s arm was forcibly extended and his hand interlocked with Lark’s.
“This is a lycan and for your birthday I’m going to gift you your very own wolf. And I really do hope you survive.”
A new sense of horror washed over Lark. His eyes met the glowing orbs of the man whose life, and wolf, he was about to take. The dagger slammed through their connected hands and both men screamed.
The searing pain that ripped at every piece of Lark’s being was more unbearable than any of the unspeakable tortures Creedin had unleashed on him before. The lycan man’s life force surged through Lark, threatening to tear his cells completely apart. In the back of his mind he saw something moving, something large and fur-covered. He struggled to focus on the creature. When it finally raised its head, blood-red eyes bore into him. The white wolf was the last thing Lark saw before the entire world fell to silence around him and the in-between of life and death took him under its dark spell.
* * *
Lark slowly returned to consciousness. Unfamiliar sensations swirled around him. He bolted awake as he became aware of a second presence within. The others in the room moved in to check on him.
Creedin smiled down. “Welcome back.”
They removed his straps and sat him upright. Lark clutched his injured hand on instinct, but the dagger’s deep wound could not be seen. It had healed. Lark felt strong—stronger than ever. He gave his limbs a once-over. Recent gashes and bruises inflicted by Creedin had also vanished.
“Self-healing,” Creedin mused. “One of the benefits of being an abomination.”
Lark slowly moved off of the slab, testing his new strength and remaining ever present of the new creature within him. He stumbled toward a pool of water situated in the corner of the ritual chamber. A mortified gasp escaped him as he took in his new reflection. He looked strong, with knotted muscles stacked all along his body.
The muscles were not what took his breath away. It was the hair. His once-brown hair was now white as a sheet. His chiseled, pale reflection gazed back at him through mismatched eyes. With a new victim under his skin, the irises had shifted once again. One was a vivid yellow, while the other was a blood red.
“You made me a monster,” Lark said through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps.” Creedin seemed to consider his words. “But oh the things I have in store for you now.”
ChapterTwo
Aria sighed into her plate of fish and chips. The Scottish countryside had lost its appeal soon after arrival. Sure, the people were nice, the landscape was gorgeous, and they were always ready to party, but Aria’s thoughts were glued back home. Mountain’s End called her back to it. She missed the forests that were so beautifully Georgia. She missed her friends and apartment. She missed…him.
An aching feeling invaded Aria’s chest and she downed another shot of whiskey. The liquor burned through her, but after the immediate sensation faded, the aching remained. Another sigh drifted from her pouty lips.
“That’s probably your hundredth sigh tonight. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Romani’s hazel eyes peered down at her as he approached their table with fresh beers. She gratefully accepted the mug, and Romani dropped into his seat across from her. She took in her unusual companion. At six foot two and with a face like a Greek god, Romani fit in perfectly with the lycans. A broad, well-developed chest and strong shoulders pulled tightly against the maroon fabric of his shirt. Dark curly hair framed his tan face and dark, thick eyelashes surrounded his light eyes.
Romani was a Veil Walker. He had the ability to travel to the shadow world in between. It was an unusual gift. Paired with his ability to teleport, it made him quite the unique magical specimen. But Romani wasn’t really here on any magical quests. His assignment was plain and simple.Aria’s babysitter.He could deny it all he wanted, but Aria knew Gideon had sent Romani away with her to keep her under close watch and to report back.
Thinking of Gideon made rage build within her. He was her brother before he was the Alpha of the Ulric pack. But he certainly hadn’t been acting that way recently. Gideon hadn’t outright said it, but she knew he suspected her of hiding something,someone. Thinking of that someone sent fresh pain radiating through her heart. Gideon could have just asked her about him, instead he sent her to Scotland to facilitate a pack exchange. One of their members would join the Scottish pack and they would bring home a Scottish member in return.
