Chapter 92
Elowen POV
A
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The moorland had slowly given way to something ancient. The trees thickened into towering guardians, gnarled and wise, their bark whispering secrets only the wind could hear. Moss blanketed the earth like a velvet offering, and the air shimmered with that soft, tingling buzz of raw magic.
We were close.
Even the wolf strike team had fallen quiet, their senses sharpened, eyes tracking every flicker of movement in the shadows. Something about this place made you want to walk softly, like it was hallowed ground. Lachlan led the way, staff in hand, casting soft, glowing orbs ahead of us as twilight began to stretch her arms.
And then it happened. A soft crunch. A flutter. I froze.
From the trees, light as a whisper, stepped a small deer. But not just any deer, this one glowed faintly at the edges, like the moon herself had kissed her fur. Her eyes were silver, luminous, and intelligent.
“Oh…” I breathed, going completely still.
She looked at me. Not at the group. Not at the six heavily armed wolves or my three overprotective mates.
Me.
Lyssira stirred in my mind, her voice a hush. “She’s a spirit creature. Not just a deer. Look at her aura…”
The deer took a few tentative steps closer, her head tilted, sniffing the air. Then, swear to the goddess, she pranced straight up to me and nudged my hand with her velvety nose.
I laughed, soft and delighted, sinking to my knees as she tucked her legs beneath her and sat like a damn forest puppy, letting me stroke
her ears.
Lachlan was the first to speak, and his voice was barely above a whisper, but laced with raw awe.
“Sweet mother o’ fuckin’ moonlight… Elowen…” He shook his head slowly. “These spirits dinnae come near people. Not even coven born. Not unless youye’re ancient fae… or… or…”
“Or what?” I asked without looking away from the deer, who was now sniffing the braid in my hair.
He stepped closer, still watching her like she might vanish in a puff of magic. “Or touched by the goddess herself.”
I glanced back at him.
The way he was looking at me, like I was a sunrise and a miracle and a riddle all in one, made my stomach flip.
Even Daxon and Ashrian were stunned silent, and that never happened. The wolves behind us murmured among themselves, but no one
moved.
The deer finally stood, nuzzled her nose to my cheek, then gave a twitch of her ear and bounded back into the trees, vanishing without a
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Chapter 92
sound.
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I stood slowly, brushing moss from my knees, my heart thudding like a war drum.
Lachlan gave me a slow, reverent grin, his accent thick as honey. “Aye, mo ghrá… ye’re no’ just special. Ye’re bloody blessed. Even the fae born dinnae see that sort o’ thing.”
Ashrian gave a low whistle. “We knew you were rare. Just didn’t know you were a damn Disney princess.”
“Oh fuck off,” I muttered, my cheeks warm.
Daxon barked a laugh, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “If woodland creatures start sewing you dresses, I’m calling it.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll have the squirrels do your taxes,” I shot back.
Lachlan just chuckled, still watching me like I was made of starlight and sin. “Let’s move, aye? We’re near the wards. The coven will feel us soon enough. And I’d rather they meet us before they get suspicious.”
The team nodded, and we started walking again, but something had shifted. The land saw me. And maybe it approved.
Lyssira purred. “The forest knows a daughter of the moon when it meets one.*
And damn, that felt good.
We moved in near silence now.
The magic in the air was denser the farther we went, like honey thickening in the cold. Every breath felt electric, like licking a battery, and the fine hairs on my arms refused to lay flat.
The forest changed too. Darker trees. Older trees. Their trunks were massive and twisted with deep runes etched into them. Moon runes. Even elemental ones that pulsed faintly as we passed, almost like they were… watching.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, glancing toward the glowing carvings.
Lachlan nodded. “Aye, lass. Ye’re at the outer threshold o’ MacCrae land. Nae one crosses these woods wi’out bein’ seen.” He raised his staff, letting a soft glow pour from the tip like moonlight caught in water. “This next part? Dinnae fuckin’ run. The wards test intent.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Daxon muttered. “Does everything in Scotland require a magical background check?”
“Only if ye dinnae want yer soul separated from yer spine,” Lachlan replied cheerfully.
Ashrian grinned. “Charming.”
We stepped into the stone-ringed clearing. The moment we crossed the invisible boundary, the pressure slammed down. It was heavy and unyielding. The runes on the standing stones blazed brighter, lines of silver crawling like veins, and the air thickened until every breath scraped like fire.
It wasn’t just watching us. It was weighing us.
A hum rose from the ground, bone-deep, shaking the moss at our boots. Lyssira pressed close in my head. “Do not fight it, pup. Let it
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Chapter 92
taste you, Show it truth,”
The magic slid through me, cold as river water, prying at my thoughts, my rage, and my Intent. My wolf bared her throat, not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. I felt something pulse back…..acceptance.
Behind me, Bram grunted. Daxon’s jaw locked. Ashrian smirked like he was flirting with the ward itself. Lachlan just stood tall, his staff grounded, letting the land recognize him as blood of its blood.
Then a strangled curse split the silence.
One of the wolves had vines shooting up his boot, wrapping tight around his ankle. The land snared him, thorns pricking his skin, runes on the stones flaring harshly. His wolf snarled, but he didn’t move.
“Hold!” Lachlan barked, his voice sharp. “Dinnae fight it. Let it see ye.”
the
The vines pulsed once, twice, like they were taking his measure. Then, as suddenly as they’d risen, they slithered back into the earth, leaving his boot torn but his flesh untouched.
The wolf dropped to one knee, his chest heaving. “Bloody hell.”
Lachlan nodded firmly. “Ye were tested. Ye passed. The land kens yer loyalty now.”
The pressure lifted, the hum fading into a deep, satisfied silence. Then the mist began to move slowly, pulling back in long ribbons to reveal what lay hidden.
And there it was.
The MacCrae stronghold.
Not a castle, not a fortress, but something living. Towers grown of oak and stone twined together. Bridges of glowing root spanning silver streams. Runes pulsed faintly across every surface, weaving the sky to the earth. The whole place throbbed with power, ancient and wild, as if the land itself had shaped it.
My breath caught. “Oh…”
Lachlan’s brogue was thick with pride and reverence.
“Welcome tae MacCrae Hold. Ye’ve been weighed. Ye’ve been found worthy.”
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Hunted Hybrid – Aegis War Saga 1
