The Wolf & The Witch (The Wolves Of Winter Valley Book 2)

Isabella POV   I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, ignoring the painful bite and scratch of twigs and rocks against my soles. Such things were to be expected when running through the forest without shoes. I’d lost one of my satin pumps outside my cabin in Winter Valley when I was taken. The other I left in the room where I’d been imprisoned. I only hoped that I wouldn’t step on one of the many venomous creatures that called the Venezuelan forests home. At only 5’1” and 110 lbs, the venom of any one of them could ravage my small body and kill me in a matter of minutes. I tried not to think about it.  If I allowed myself a moment to focus on the fear, I would be tempted to stop and move cautiously but it simply was not possible. They would know I escaped very soon. I had to keep running. Thankfully, the moon gave off enough light for me to see the big obstacles ahead, so I could avoid them and a nasty fall thus slowing my progress. If I were home, I would conjure a flame to illuminate my path, but I wasn’t home. In Winter Valley, being a witch was accepted by all, revered by some. In Venezuela, it was feared so much that witches were immediately put to death when discovered. There once was a time when Venezuela was my home. I was born and raised to the age of 15 here. I discovered my powers here and learned to hide them. Then my life as I knew it fell apart and I found myself alone and hunted in my own country. Terence Raymond had rescued me. After finding me asleep in the storage shed of his rental and coaxing me to tell him my story, he spirited me away from this place. This place where I had become unwelcome, where my life had become an abomination. He took me away from the danger and brought me home to Winter Valley. I’d expected to have to work for him in exchange for my freedom, but he’d made me his daughter and gave me a sister. I had a real family and for the first time in my young life, I knew how it felt to be loved.  Papa wouldn’t be there to rescue me this time.  I was going to have to rely on myself to find a way back to Winter Valley. I scrambled over a fallen tree and yelped a bit when my foot landed on a sharp rock on the other side. Despite the pain and the certainty that I’d cut my foot, I kept running. There would be much worse pain waiting for me if I were caught and much more blood spilled. I was certain that death also waited, but not until after I’d been punished severely. Behind me, sirens screeched to life, letting me know that my escape had been discovered and the search parties were being dispatched. I had no idea how far from the compound I was, but I wanted to put as much distance between me and Avila’s men as I could. The greater the distance, the greater my chances of outrunning them. At that moment, I regretted not allowing Natasha to turn me into a werewolf when she’d offered. If I were a wolf, I would already be miles away. But I wasn’t a wolf, and I would have to rely on my average human speed and my average human wits to get away from Diego Avila and his henchmen.  I pushed myself faster, grabbing fistfuls of the midnight blue satin material of my gown from Nattie’s wedding and hiking it up to my thighs. Keeping my eyes on the shadows of the trees ahead of me, I missed the sudden dip in the earth and tumbled forward, landing with a loud splash in nearly three feet of water. My knee struck something on the stream’s bottom, drawing a sharp cry from my throat and sending me scrambling to regain my feet. There was no time to nurse my knee. They were coming. Not far in the distance, I could hear the dogs barking and could imagine them straining on leads as they were being led into the forest. It would only be a matter of time before they released them.  I slogged through the water, yanking at the zipper of my dress. It was so beautiful, and I hated to leave it behind, but its bulk was a hindrance. I peeled my arms out of the sleeves and pushed it down over my hips as I waded toward the opposite bank. The gown dropped to the ground as I stepped on dry land and I resumed running, feeling much lighter in only my black corset and half-slip. A pitted gravel road soon came into view. It was a welcome sight and I very nearly wept with relief. That barren stretch of crushed white and gray rock marked my path to freedom, just like it had almost 11 years before. That beautiful narrow lane snaked through the forest and opened to a two-lane highway that led straight into Caracas. Though my body was tired and growing weaker by the minute, I did not break stride.  As relieved as I was, I could not afford to relax, or to slow my pace, not while I was still out in the open. I had to find somewhere to hide, then I could rest.  My lungs were burning, and my stomach was painfully knotted when I came across a small farm tucked back into the trees, concealed from the road. The only lights burning on the property were a huge spotlight above the two-story barn and a post light at the edge of the cobblestone walk path. My eyes swept the area four times before I felt secure enough to leave the shelter of the trees. There was a car in the drive. I stopped there, first, and tried the driver’s side door. When it opened, I slid inside. Slowly and methodically, I searched the car for anything that would help me.  There was nothing. Not even a few bolivars to buy a piece of fruit at the market. I exited the vehicle with as much care as I’d used to get in. The only sound, the quiet click of the door latch engaging. When the door was secured, I tiptoed around the house to the back porch and hit the jackpot.  An older washer and dryer set sat on the porch with a full load of clean clothes in the dryer. I picked through the items one by one, dropping what I couldn’t use in the basket in front of it. In the mass of laundry, I found a well-worn t-shirt that was two sizes too large and a pair of cotton shorts that were a quarter of an inch away from being too small. Still, better than running around in my underwear. After shoving the rest of the clothes back into the dryer, I dressed quickly and deposited my corset, and slip deep in the family’s trash. Next to the back door, there were three pairs of shoes. I chose the pair of sneakers that was closest to my size, then moved on to the barn to search for food and a place to rest.  The horses didn’t appreciate the presence of a stranger and began to snort and nicker while pawing the floor in warning. Quickly, I rushed to the first stall, laying my hand over the silky, smooth muzzle of a black mare with a white blaze. “Relájate niña. Está bien,” I murmured quietly, stroking her muzzle. (Relax, Baby girl. It’s okay.) When she was calm, I moved on to the next stall, and then the next until all three mares were relaxed and quiet again. Grabbing the flashlight from the shelf next to the tack room door, I went inside. It was a good-sized room, which I expected. All types and sizes of tack hung on the walls. Polishes, oils, brushes, and rags lined narrow, rough-hewn shelves. Saddles sat on benches with rolled saddle blankets stored in cubbies underneath. An old wooden desk was pushed under a small window facing the forest, and a refrigerator stood in the corner beside it. I practically squealed as I crossed the room and yanked open the door. The farmer kept it well stocked, there were sodas and fruit and bowls of mystery dishes labeled only with dates. I chose a banana, a mango, half of a chocolate bar, and a soda, then left the room and climbed the ladder to the hayloft.      Drake POV   It was late, but none of us paid attention to the time anymore.  We rarely slept.  Isabella had been missing for three days and we had nothing to go on. No way to find out where she was or who had taken her. The pack security officers had gone over her cabin thoroughly and found nothing. The security camera footage had been watched dozens of times, but nothing out of the ordinary had been recorded. How did someone come onto pack land, with dozens of guests and hundreds of wolves milling about and take a pack member without being seen and in only a matter of seconds? And not just any pack member, but the Alpha’s sister.  I simply couldn’t wrap my head around it. I had been right there, no more than a minute or two behind her on the path to her cabin, and in that short span of time, they’d subdued her and disappeared. And they would have had to subdue her. Isabella Dayanna Montoya was a scrappy little thing. She was tiny, but she could be vicious and if I wasn’t a werewolf with self-healing capabilities, I would have the scars to prove it. My little spitfire may not win the fight, but she’d do a considerable amount of damage in the process. Natasha stood up from the couch, where all four of us were spread out staring blankly at the television and stretched. “Drake, why don’t I send an omega to collect your things and you can move into one of the guest rooms upstairs. You’ve been sleeping here anyway.”  “No, don’t wake anyone up for that. I can get my own…” my words were cut off by the ringing of Natasha’s laptop announcing a video call. She flipped up the screen and jammed her finger down on the button to engage the call.  “Elder Yuri, do you have news?” she asked in a rush, dropping down on the floor in front of the screen. The Elder frowned and cleared his throat. “I’m afraid nothing helpful. I’ve spoken with the Necromancer’s Senate and they’ve attempted to scry for Isabella using that rose quartz bracelet you lent them, but it’s not giving them anything. The way that process works is an item that is magically charmed by the witch acts as a magnet and is drawn, no matter the distance, to the power that created it. There is only one reason why scrying wouldn’t work and that is if the witch is not using her powers. They said they will keep trying, but in light of the current climate with supernaturals being abducted almost daily, they are not hopeful. Ms. Montoya is likely concealing her powers to protect herself from detection or she’s under the influence of dampeners.” Natasha drew in a shaky breath. “Thank you, Elder Yuri, and please pass along our gratitude to the Senate.” “You’re welcome, Alpha. I will keep you abreast of any new developments,” he said before disconnecting the call.  Seth and Harmony leaned forward, laying a hand on each of her shoulders.  “She’s going to be okay, Nattie,” Harmony said, though her voice was strained. “She is smart and she’s tough. If anyone can get through this, she can. Remember, she escaped a band of witch-hunters and managed to steer clear of them until your Pop found her.” “I believe Elder Yuri is right,” Seth added. “Izzy’s not using her powers just to avoid detection. I heard that’s how witch-hunters track them and with all the witches going missing, who can blame her for wanting to remain undetected.” Natasha choked back a sob. “I hope you’re right and that there’s not another reason she isn’t using her powers…” She lowered her face into her hands as she was overcome with emotion. “No!” I said, suddenly furious. “Don’t you dare think that. She’s not dead. She can’t be…” Now, equally furious, Natasha pushed herself to her feet and turned to face me, her gray eyes flashing. “I can’t help the thoughts that pop into my head, Drake. My sister is missing. I can’t channel her. I have absolutely no way of knowing what is happening to her and it scares the hell out of me. My mind has taken on a life of its own, conjuring up all kinds of horrible scenarios. I can’t sleep because I’m awakened by them.”  I felt like a first-class asshole, so I went to her and wrapped her in my arms. “I’m sorry, Nattie. I’m scared too and I’m angry that I wasn’t there to protect her. I should have tried harder to catch her before she got to her cabin.” I had been playing the ‘If only’ game since the day Izzy was taken. If only I had caught her before she left the packhouse or somewhere along the path, then she wouldn’t have gone back to her cabin. If only I’d arrived before they could take her out of the house. If only I had thought to remind Nattie to tighten security. If only, if only, if only.  It was pointless to go over the different possible outcomes of Isabella’s abduction. They wouldn’t help us to find her, but they kept my mind from drifting to where Nattie’s seemed to have taken up residence. Death was not an option. I flat-out refused to even consider it a possibility. Isabella was not dead. I was absolutely certain of it. How I could be so certain, I didn’t know, but I had no doubt that she was alive and trying to find her way home. “It’s not your fault, Drake. You don’t know, they could have been prepared for that, and you could have been hurt or killed, trying to save her. I don’t think Izzy would have ever forgiven you for dying,” Natasha said with a small smile tugging at her lips.  “No, I don’t think she would have either. I can picture her standing next to the Altar of Departing cursing me into the afterlife.” That statement drew light laughter from everyone.  I cleared my throat. “Uh, Nattie, I think I’m going to take you up on the offer of that room. I really don’t want to be alone in the cabin.” She smiled. “Of course, the guest rooms are to the left of the stairs. Take whichever one you want. We’ll leave the door unlocked for you if you’re wanting to go get your stuff,” she said. “Yeah, I think that would be a good idea,” I agreed, kissing her cheek, then making my way to the front door. Outside, I looked up at the starlit sky and sent a prayer to the Moon Goddess to keep Isabella safe and guide us in our mission to find her.