Rejected Mate and Following Fate - Awakening Book

Chapter 77: What Will We do?

We move fast, making light work of scaling the stairs, getting through the house and down into the
secret passage to the underground via the library nook that used to be Colton’s and I’s bedroom. Just
seeing this room, free of our things and our bed, almost breaks me in two. My soul throbbing with the
loss of his presence and the knowing I won’t be able to see or touch him until we do something about
this curse.

I feel like he’s gone somehow, that I’ve lost him to something I don’t know how to fight and this room
where we began, where he first marked me, stabs deep into my heart and soul and wounds me to the
core. My anxiety and pain rising up like bile in my throat that threatens to choke me and I have to
heavily inhale to push all the chaos down to my inner depths to stay calm. I stifle a sob as Sierra pulls
back the concealed door behind where the bed used to sit, and Meadow grasps my hand in comfort,
her own face ashen and stiff.

“We will save them. We have to. They’re our pack, our mates…our hearts. We’ll bring them home, back
where they belong. With us!” Meadow can feel, and shares, my devastation and it’s mirrored back at
me, not only visually, but in her emotions swirling around me. I nod tearfully and cling to her fingers as
we follow Sierra down into the dark musty passage that stings my nose with its aged smell, and I blink
away the dust of centuries of sleeping airless surroundings.

With a click of her fingers, she ignites the wall mounted blue flamed torches around us to an eerie glow,
lit by her magic, it illuminates the winding narrow passageway as we make our way beneath the
homestead to the secret rooms below which feel unearthly and icy. This almost dungeon like lair has
always fascinated me but yet always scared me too so Colton usually only comes here with her as I
tend to avoid it.

It has an aura, an ambience of unease. Like it harnesses so many souls of the past with so much
power and energy in its confines in the ground below the house. I can almost feel the eyes of spirits
taking note as we venture in and it raises all the hairs across my skin as I goosebump in reaction. The

room is large and dull, despite the many candles flickering with that familiar witchy blue that makes me
think of Colton, and I dart my eyes to take in the room and shake him from my head. If I let him linger
then I won’t find the strength to carry on.

The shelves are formed from ceiling to floor on every wall, crammed with generations of spell books,
and a vast array of potions and bottles, and weird things in jars. Nothing touched by age as this room
magically stays sealed to any form of interference when not in use and you can only come in here with
a gifted touch. Witch blood is needed to open the door and light the torches. You can’t get in otherwise,
so I presume much like our rune border, this has some kind of protective spell holding it timeless and
still as the years tick by.

“Don’t touch any books unless I hand them to you. Grimoires are special and can bite. You need a
witch’s permission to touch one.” Sierra makes haste and lifts two huge leather bound books from a low
shelf, handing one to me and one to Meadow, nodding towards the long center table that looks like it’s
had much use over the years. It has stools tucked in all around each side and the worn imprint of many
decades of witches sitting here to browse and learn from these ancient texts. Sierra told me that when
her family was plentiful and had many offspring, they used this room as a witch school and taught them
everything about their own gifts. Sierra came here as a child to learn about her gifts too but as she was
the last of her bloodline, it was left to sit quietly alone and wait for a new purpose.

I take my book to one end of the roughened, stained, dark surface and lay it down carefully. A huge old
somewhat unidentifiable book, bound expertly, and strangely ornate. I flick it open to reveal the pages
inside which are yellowed and worn along the edges, some are splattered with drops and smudges that
hints at a great many uses. Handwritten in black ink in a beautiful scroll, mostly English, but it varies.
My Spanish sucks and this is a bilingual spell book pushing more to the other language than my own.

“I can’t read this.” I point out, lifting my eyes to settle on Sierra who seems to be looking along the rows
for a specific book herself and she turns to me with a patient smile.

“Grimoires are enchanted…. don’t look…feel. Ask the book to help you, push your emotion to its very
core. See what it gives you.” Sierra nods at us before bringing her armful of six smaller books to the
table and pulls out a stool to begin with her own search. She looks as determined as Meadow does,
who already has her pages flicking fast and furiously as she scans the words. Meadow lifts her chin
and frowns at me as though she thinks Sierra is a bit mental for telling us to feel rather than read the
pages and I shrug, telling her to do as she asks. I stare down at my book and focus all my thoughts and
energy on a little faith.

Please show me how to help bring my pack home. How to bring my mate back to me. I utter the words
inside my head and lay my palms flat on the open pages. Sighing as I do so and jump as the edge of
the next page lifts and tries to move under my restrictive hold. I yank my hands back in shock that it
actually made it do something and watch in awe and horror as the pages begin to flip over in this
windless room. They move fast as though caught in the throes of a gust of vicious wind and seem to
hasten as it progresses. I swallow down my saliva and choke on the sudden dryness of my mouth.

Even though I have been around witchcraft and seen Sierra and Colton practicing together, this still is
an alien sight to me, and I recoil and muffle a gasp as it flips harder and harder. Picking up speed like it
might fly off the table at any second, getting halfway through the book before the pages fall open with
an almighty thud that makes me flinch and jump.

Sierra scrapes her chair across the floor quickly and comes to me, obviously excited that the first book I
tried gave me some sort of answer. She seems oblivious to how abnormal this is, and I wonder at how
often she has seen a book do this with wide eyed wariness.

The two pages open in front of me are in some foreign language I don’t recognize, not Spanish, and I
squint at it and lean closer in a bid to understand. They look like symbols of some sort and cover the
pages fully, all over, some even running up the edge and not following regular lines of a book.

“What are they?” I ask quizzically as Sierra leans and scrolls her fingers along the inky decorative
images. Meadow gets up and comes to peer over my shoulder and we fall silent as Sierra focuses.

“Runes. Some sigils. Much like what are etched into the stones buried around our land. Protection….
mostly about keeping things out. I don’t understand why this…..” She sighs and turns the book to face
her to get a better look. Seemingly unsure why of all the pages, this one seems to want us to read it.
Her expression falls a little with obvious disappointment that she doesn’t seem to be finding the
answers we need.

“So it’s the spell to make the rune border?” Meadow interjects flatly, probably also wondering how this
is meant to help us now, and Sierra nods, shrugging with confusion that the book would show us this.
It’s not exactly useful given our pack are already bewitched on the other side of it.

“Maybe it wants us to reinforce the border? Maybe it’s a sign we should be focusing on protecting
ourselves first, maybe another spell is coming.” I blow out air in frustration, clawing for reasons and
Sierra squints and leans into the book to read it for a second time. Her brow furrowing harshly and her
mouth pinches up, making it obvious she really wants to see more than just that.

“No, the runes don’t fade. The spell will outlast all of us and for the time being we don’t want to extend
it, although now we know we can….. I just don’t…. wait! Of course!!” Sierra’s hands fly to her mouth as
she covers a gasp that escapes loudly, and she throws us a wide eyed look.

“What?” Meadow almost snaps impulsively, startled by her gesture and I begin tapping my foot on the
floor as anxiety overtakes me. My blood rushing to warm my skin with her sudden outburst.

“It’s not the spell…. it’s who wrote it. She’s a witch.” Sierra turns the book, sliding its heaviness around
to face us again and taps at the bottom right of the second page somewhat excitedly; at a little symbol
that looks like it was burned into the page with hot metal. It’s tiny, a small flowing L and C surrounded
by a vine design that wrap it into one continuous form and is unusually pretty.

“You know this witch? She’s alive… I don’t understand?” I point out knowing the runes predate even
Sierra’s father and as witch’s have human life spans then it’s probably not reasonable to think she lives
still. Meadow sits down on the stool next to me, her energy wavering as she too comes to the same
conclusion and I’m engulfed with her extreme sadness and stress. Her mind on her mate, much like
mine is, and desperate for Sierra to explain seeing as she has latched onto this ray of hope, or
whatever it is.

“Leyanne Cruden… And oh yes, she’s alive, unless in the last eight years someone figured out how to
kill an immortal witch who has lived for thousands of years. She’s not like any witch you will ever meet.
She wrote this spell for my ancestors to protect themselves and much like everything she does, it’s
powerful, flawless, and unbreakable. Much like her. She’s the most powerful witch I have ever known.”
Sierra’s awe and deep respect for this person shines through her words, her face flushing slightly and
there’s a new light of something in her eyes. Dare I say she has found a reason to hope.

“Immortal? Witches only have human life spans. What if she is the one behind the fog? You said no
witch could pull off that spell…could she? Can we trust this Bruja” Meadow interjects, a hint of doubt
and fear rising in her voice as my mind falls in line with hers. And I wonder if the witch who wrote our
protection spell could remove it and let the fog in among the rest of my people if we are stupid enough
to let her in here.

“No…Leyanne would never choose a side and take such drastic action. She is all for preserving the
species, of all kinds. She wouldn’t choose to get on side to rid the world of wolves. She’s an ally. She
isn’t bound by a coven or any kind of higher power like most witches. She used to be part of the high
council before she even walked away from that. She’s solitary and marches to her own beat, and yes,
immortal. She’s over three thousand years old, give or take and no one knows exactly why. Rumor has
it her father is some sort of druid lord, and they’re immortal beings. Sorcerers.” Sierra strokes the
imprinted insignia lovingly, her face aglow with new light and I glance at her then meadow, so torn in
how to feel.

“So, we have some unkillable, all powerful Sister, walking around with the ability to create unbreakable
spells and throw her power around? And we’re only hearing of her now? Where is she, how do we find
her?” Meadow props one hand on the table to slide her fingers under her chin, her other hand waving
that finger in the air, with a sassy tone that hints at a mix of disbelief and lack of trust that this is the
answer to our problems. Sierra ignores the underlying attitude and beams our way.

“Scotland…. well, maybe. She travels a lot. But she’s Scottish.”

“Scotland! Are you kidding? That’s almost the other side of the world. How the hell are we supposed to
get in touch? I balk. “Do you think she has Facebook? Do witches social network? A cell number….an
email?” I sigh in defeat and rub my fingers on my temples to try and combat the brewing stress
migraine and exhale heavily. My body heavy, and tired, and everything in me is starting to ache. What I
wouldn’t give for Colton to stroll in and take command like he always does, and I bite down the urge to
cry with the need for his presence.

“No. But we do have other means to find out where someone is, providing they aren’t hiding from sight.
Witches have ways and means.” Sierra closes the book as though she now realizes we never needed
that damn page and fixes her gaze on my slump posture, reaching out a loving hand to comfort me.

“Explain?” Meadow cuts in sharply. Getting inpatient.

“Locator spell. Normally we need a person’s belonging to enchant but we have a room full of books
where she added her own spells. We have items she gifted my ancestors, and we have this.” Sierra
moves off to a wall of bottles and pulls out one small vial with a glowing white liquid that sparkles like
liquid glitter. It looks like a fake bottle for a children’s fairy costume and I can’t even imagine what it’s
meant to be for.

“What is that?” I blink at it, lifting myself up to sit upright once more and push off my fatigue and
despair, as the soft glow illuminates the space around it, and she lays it on the table. Acting like it’s

made of precious and fragile crystal.

“It’s an elixir, which contains Leyanne’s own tears. She made it for my grandmother when she needed
ailment. I’m not sure what it does, but I used to play with this because it’s so pretty and was scolded so
many times. A witch’s tears are a powerful thing and they only gift them to people they trust.” Sierra
touches it once more, lovingly, and then retracts her hands and stares at it as though somehow it will
magically transform into something amazing. I just see a bottle of liquid glitter and sigh again.

“So what do we do with it, how do we ‘locate’ her.” I ask tentatively, air emphasizing the word with my
fingers. Sierra sighs and presses her palms to her chest, over her heart.

“We find the book which tells us how to perform a locator spell. It’s been nine years since I used it and
it’s rusty. I used it to find out where you were being cared for, Alora.” She smiles softly at me and I
blanche as I click on what she means exactly. The night Sierra crept into my room to bind us for
eternity and protect me from Juan. She used a spell to know exactly where I was that night and now
that’s the same spell we need to find this witch. A vague feeling of full circle claws at the back of my
mind and the fates flicker through my head in weird kinds of ways. I can’t help but wonder if this is

“So tell us what the book looks like and we look.” Meadow interrupts my moment of reverie, on her feet
and ready to do something more than sitting here and I nod in agreement. Sliding up from my own
chair to get busy.

“It’s green, large like this one, with a dark vine wrapped around to keep it shut. Leyanne is a witch of
nature so it suits. It’s where I learned the spell and I know it’s here. No one ever removes the books,
not that they can. The stairwell won’t let a book pass upwards so it will be here wherever I left it.”

“Hmm, okay…. Let’s look.” Meadow jumps to it and starts trawling the lined cases all around us and I
follow suit. Moving to the ones behind me and I start passing my fingers along the shelves gently,

making sure not to actually touch them, something tugging me to my left, and I let it guide me. Like an
inner instinct, deep in my belly or my gut and I look that way in response of whatever is urging me

Sticking out slightly more than the others on a low shelf, almost concealed by shadow because of
where it sits, I spot a green book and go to it immediately.

“This?” I call out to Sierra, pointing down and she looks around and gasps in glee.

“If I didn’t know better I would think you’re part witch. The books are calling to you as though you are.”
She beams at me joyfully and I frown it away and go back to the table as she slides it free.
Remembering we can’t touch without her say so and eager to get this done. Sierra brings it to the table
and flicks through quickly, finding a dog-eared page and Meadow eye rolls dramatically. Slumping onto
her own seat and making a show of her extreme disapproval.

“You bent the corner? Who does that, especially not hundred-year-old magical books? What is wrong
with you?” her obvious distaste and disgust is heavy in her tone and that glare is not very respectful
towards her Rema. I giggle at Meds, an argument we have had in the house library many times and it
warms me out of my cold sadness for a few seconds. She believes in the sanctity of books and keeping
them pristine, while I’m a page folder to keep my place and it drives her crazy.

“I did not. It’s how I found it.” Sierra retorts sharply, eyeing her up as though she’s just been incredibly
rude, accusing her of a heinous crime and scans the words quickly, nodding to herself as it refreshes
her memory. A little flick of recognition going off in the depths of her eyes as a small smile relaxes her
pretty face.

“Okay, we need a map of the world, seeing as we are looking much further than I ever had to. There’s
one on that wall, bring it.” She nods to Meadow who obediently goes and takes down a large, aged
print of the world, in one clear space of wall by the stair way door. Sierra pulls off the long necklace she

wears daily, a chain that almost reaches her waist and a pointed quartz crystal that hangs from it,
pulling the chain together and holding it halfway down so the crystal swings freely. Meadow lays the
map out on the table and I move our books to accommodate its large size.

Sierra carefully opens the little vial and dips the very tip of her stone into it before closing it back up and
laying it aside gently. She is careful not to touch her stone again and lets it hang over the map and still
by itself as she concentrates and regulates her breathing to keep her hand steady.

“Bring those candles all four from there. One on each corner of the map.” She points at a bookcase
behind me with a nod and I quickly move to collect four tapered candles in silver holders from the shelf
and put them on the table. Moving them to the corners and I can reach and handing Meadow the other
two to lay out for me. Sierra clicks her fingers and all four light immediately, with blue flame much like
the passageway and lighting in here. She holds her pendulum still over the center of the map, closes
her eyes as her hands begin to glow blue and travel up as far as her elbows. She stays motionless and
still as a statue as she softly utters the words with a faint breath that we almost don’t hear.

“Oportet te invenire me, quod mea proposito.

Super terram, mare caeli spatium non habet terminum.

Dirige manus, trahere lux mea, et in offuscatione.

Unus enim fas est inveniet te debere ostendere.”

Her words are haunting, foreign, and as she utters the very last one, the blue light travels down the
chain of her stone and lights it up like a bright beacon that scalds my eyes and I squint to adjust to its
brightness. The tip that was dipped in the potion turns a brazen green and the pendulum starts
swinging freely of its own accord as though it’s caught by a sudden gust and seems to tug Sierra
across the map.

She opens her eyes but keeps her hand steady as the chain manipulates itself and tugs the stone
towards a part of the world to her left. She follows gently, allowing it to guide her as though somehow,
it’s now a little life of its own, a dog on a leash pulling it’s master home with impressive strength for
such a feeble little object.

We watch in awe as it tugs her until it reaches the American states and draws up nearer to where we
are in the north, pulling up past the border. It lingers around New Mexico before pulling the tip down
and planting with an aggressive dip on an area within that section of the map. It’s just left off the center
of New Mexico on this map and at least in our part of the world and not overseas in Scotland!

“She’s not that far. That’s like a seven-hour drive if we don’t stop.” Meadow chimes in, squinting at the
map carefully and obviously a little frustrated we don’t have a more specific and detailed map to get a
more precise location. We have a vague spot on a map that condenses the entire world and she’s right.
Arizona to New Mexico is not that far but we will have to drive.

“The biggest problem is getting out past the fog.” I point out and Meadow frowns, taking a moment to
think hard and then focuses on me with a very serious expression.

“Your powers, you can clear a path until we get out. Hopefully the fog isn’t widespread. That means you
and I, chica, we have to go together.” I quiet and think of what she says, seeing the possibility in it and
nod as I agree without hesitation.

“It’s too dangerous. You can’t go out there. The pack is circling its own people ready to take on any of
you who ventureout. What about vampires? Or the witch that did this?” Sierra grasps my hand and
clings on tight, painfully so, gripping my fingers with white fierceness, eyes washing with instant tears
and fear, and her light of hope seems to vanish in the reality that I might go out and not return either.
She sees me as her second child and her intense maternal need to protect me almost chokes me half
to death as I feed from her panic.

“If we don’t then how else are we supposed to save them? We can’t wait on the spell ending, because
it might never. Are we supposed to leave them out there, like they’re dead? What about when we run
out of supplies, or the witch finds a way to breach our border?” I respond anxiously, trying to keep my
voice steady and patient as though dealing with a fearful and fragile child. Knowing that she’s right and
it’s not safe but at the same time, it’s our only solution so far. I can’t live without Colton, even if he’s
close and cursed for an eternity. I can’t live with my pack in a zombified state of feral, pacing our
borders with a bloodlust against our own kind.

“There has to be another way. Maybe that’s not what the book meant. Maybe I’m wrong.” Sierra
releases me and goes back to yanking books to her, a look of pain on her face, determination to find a
different path as tears fill her eyes while flicking through them somewhat erratically.

“You said the books will give an answer. And they did. If she’s as powerful as you say, then we have to
do this. It can’t be a coincidence that a Scottish witch is seven hours away from us when we need her.
That the book jumped to her name, and the bottle so freely dragged us to where she is. Maybe the
fates are pushing us to her?” I point out. Afraid that what we’re about to do is not safe but determined
to save Colton and bring him home. To save Cesar, the subs and my extended pack. I once doubted
the fates and yet they never abandoned me. They brought me to her, to my new home, to my love, and
so many answers I never knew I needed before. They brought me to position of Luna and I have
learned to never judge, doubt, or ask questions when the fates are showing me a path I may not

“The fog, Alora.” Sierra despairs, but this time it’s Meadow who chimes in. Her own face set with a
stubborn air, knowing this is what we need to do.

“And the only way we can think so far to get rid of it and take its power away, is right here in front of
us.” She taps on the little symbol of Leyanne Cruden’s mark in the book beside the locator spell and
narrows her eyes. “Can you take it away? Break the spell? Can we? No, nosotras no podemos so we
go get someone who can.” Meadow is in harsh mode, that version that often talks sense into me when I

am dwindling. The commander who stands by Colton’s side and I see a return of some of her fierce
now she has her sights set of doing something to undo what’s happened.

I lean over to grasp Sierra’s hand and as I pass the vial close by my wrist, where she left it, it starts to
glow crazily bright so that it instantly stings my eyes and I gasp and recoil.

“What the hell?” Meadow and I sing out in unison and Sierra slumps down and cradles her face. A
whimper of agony as fresh tears roll down her face and she seems instantly defeated.

“The potion is calling out to its maker…. you need to take it with you. It’s a token of proof. That you
come from this home and this bloodline. It’s a sign Alora, that the book was right, and we shouldn’t
argue. It’s our answer…. even if I don’t want it to be so.” She cries softly into her palms and my heart
pines for her, feeling the despair and knowing the why. I know there is only fear and genuine concern at
its root, because she doesn’t do well with danger or loss since she woke. She’s afraid that I won’t come
back, in the same way Colton hasn’t and she can’t bear it. Sierra isn’t as strong as she once was and
the thought of the people she loves leaving her is something she is working on.

“Colton can’t come home to us unless we do. And all three of us will be together again. Don’t cry for
what needs to be done. Look after our people, be their Luna in my absence. We will only be a couple of
days.” I move to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, rubbing her delicate frame and wishing I
knew how better to take away her heartache and terror for what must be done.

“No, I should come.” She tries in a last attempt to cling to me but I only shake my head looking for a
way to explain why she needs to stay. I need her to stay here and be safe, for my own sanity.

“We should keep our entourage to a minimum. Maybe just the two of us. We are what’s left of the
strongest and with our powers combined we should be okay. Someone needs to lead the people and
keep them sane.” Meadow tries to reinforce my decisions, voices what I don’t know how to explain, and
Sierra stifles a sob loudly. Lifting up to turn and cling to me with a possessive hug around my body,

“Travel only by day, find a place to stay safe at night, never out there. Go to human places where the
vampires won’t stray. Maybe there’s a way to use the protection spell on a vehicle, create a safe
transport. Go fast, be swift, and then come home the same way as quickly as you can. Take no
chances.” She urges us with a desperate begging in her eye, her face awash with warm tears that I try
to wipe away, and I nod. Exhaling slowly so as not to let her feel the depths of my own worry and
nervousness about how dangerous this trip may be.

“We have some preparing to do and we need to find a better map to narrow down our route, to at least
a town. I want us to be ready to go by the next dawn. There’s no point in delaying this. I need my mate
back, we need our alpha, and god knows we need our pack.” I state with determination and Meds
agrees. Standing as though to make it clear we have things to go plan, start readying and it energizes
the air around us with a new sense of purpose.

“Yes Luna, let’s get to it.”