Black Cedar Forest

"Why did you bite me?" Viridian felt shaky. He had not tried to rip flesh from bone, but there was some sort of intention behind the bite that she couldn't figure out. Daven considered how to answer for a moment before looking up at her condemning eyes and standing so that he once again towered over her. He gripped her by those long dark locks of curling brown hair and tipped her head so that she had no choice but to look up into his eyes.

"Why? Because I could. Because I wanted to. I hold no illusions about what you are and you would do well to embrace reality, little witch. You're about to find out what world you stepped into when you crossed into Telland's Black Cedar Forest." Daven's other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. He gently brushed his lips against hers and, to his delight, felt a shiver of fear.

"Who-What are you?" Viridian's voice shuddered despite the defiant look which she made in an attempt to mask her fear.

"I am Daven Franc Orren, brother of Johan Marc Orren, and leader of the Black Cedar Werewolf Tribe. Since you seem to be unfamiliar with that mark," Daven's fingers slipped through her hair and pushed punishingly into the tender broken flesh that still wept blood. "I will tell you what it means. It means you are mine." With that declaration, Daven pressed his lips to hers and stole the first of many kisses to come. Viridian's hands worked in futility against his chest and arms, nails barely scratching the thick leather jacket. His response was to deepen the kiss with fervor.

Viridian's mind swam. Her father's name. How had he known it? Was it true that he was her father's brother, her uncle? It contrasted with the mark, and the kiss. Leader of the tribe. He was the strongest, most revered leader of this forested land. Over half of western Telland was taken-up by the Black Cedar Forest. Without thought, her mind too frazzled to resist, Viridian yielded to the kiss and felt her knees give out at the same time his body pressed hers to the wall.

Though loath to admit it, this forceful nature felt right in a way that resonated within her bones. With startling clarity, the tarot cards flashed in her mind. The wheel of fortune turned upright: Change and inevitable fate. The lovers also turned upright: partnership and union. Then the hierophant reversed: Rebellion. Accompanying the images was wolfsong and witch song mixed in haunting beauty. Fire through trees, a burning beneath her skin. It all faded as Viridian slumped into unconsciousness. Daven caught her as she dropped. She would be out a lot longer this time.

With care, Daven lay Viridian onto the bed and covered her with the soft sea glass colored blanket while he worked on collecting the few items strewn about the cabin. Now that he had marked her, he could not leave her here to either flee or focus her intentions against him. She had yet to submit fully to him. Deciding to disregard the dark thoughts that would cause shame should he dwell on them, Daven looked at his sleeping mate and smiled to himself. It was a good choice: a choice based on instinct.

**

Growling lowly at anyone who dared come near him, Daven entered the large stone manor house at the center of the tribe's common living grounds. With dread, he had realized Gia was already waiting for his return and now she trailed behind him, radiating cool comfort while his own emotions were covered in a thick layer of anger. When finally inside his chambers that encompassed nearly the entire top floor, Daven set Viridian on his bed and snarled when Gia neared the young woman.

"Mine." His voice was gruff and just barely able to be discerned as human.

"Yes. Yours. I only mean to inspect the girl." Gia's voice was cool water singing over stone. It washed away some of the anger so that Daven could feel his own possessive concern. Gia's hands moved to touch the girl but stopped when Daven released a low growl. She turned abruptly, settling her hard icy blue eyes on him, fixing him to where he stood. "I have treated many mates of a strong wolf. If you think your snarling belongs in a sick room, then think again. I have no qualms about tossing you out on your ass. Stay and be quiet, otherwise you can leave."

Daven lowered his head, chastened by Gia's firm voice. She was older than him and had a short temper for any young pup acting the fool, even if it was her leader. Daven turned and swept his dark sandy hair away from his forehead and looked in the mirror. Sweet night, man, you're acting like a juvenile wolf, Daven thought. He couldn't help himself from looking at Gia in the mirror, working her hands over Viridian's forehead and then neck. She clucked to herself as she saw the faint bruises over the girl's neck. Gia's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the bite but continued the exam without pausing. Daven dropped his head and focused on breathing while Gia finished her thorough check.

"You used the bone thicket seeds?" Gia's voice was even, no sign of emotion or judgment. Daven nodded. "You marked her." Daven once again nodded. "Was it by her choice?"

Flinching, Daven turned to face Gia. There was anger stewing in her eyes. Marking someone without their consent was viewed as a vile breach of consent among their kind. Intermating was far more accepted, though still taboo beyond the case of third or possibly second cousins. Not only had he marked his niece as his mate, but had done so without consent and then taken her from her dwelling and brought her here. Gia's eyes were hard as she watched him. Daven stood, back straight, feet apart.

"I marked her because it was my choice. She is mine. Have you finished your examination?" He crossed his arms and thought for a moment that Gia was going to slap him. Had he been any other man, she would have done just that.

"There is no physical reason why she should still be out. My guess is either emotional distress..." Gia gave him a seething lingering look. "Or possibly something magical. I'd bet on a combination of both. It is traditionally left up to the mate to heal the mark, so I will leave you with a cleansing mix that should numb and clean the mark so it can heal properly. Don't worry, a mark like that will surely scar."

With sneering disgust, Gia left the room. Guilt once again settled over him and slid into his belly where it formed an icy rock. Sitting beside Viridian on the bed, Daven brushed his knuckles across her cheek. From the moment he had scented her, she called him. Turning her onto her side, Daven understood what Gia had meant. The bite mark was deep; welted, red, clotted with blood, and turning a sickly shade of purple around the edges. Daven slowly began cleaning the bloody circle with a cotton towel and water before liberally dousing the wound with the mixture of clove, tea tree, and lavender oils. Despite the feeling of guilt, Daven felt no regret.

**

A few people had clustered together after the tidal wave of anger that was Daven Orren, brought the young woman into the manor house. Groups moved apart and then back together as Gia, now also radiating a hot anger, stormed out of the tribe leader's bedroom and out of the manor. Whispers were already beginning to spread. Wolves could sense when a mate had been marked, but the scent was different and new. She was marked, but not mated. She was wolf, but not wolf. The brown haired young woman was a tasty enigma for gossip.

**

Lillian Sumac paced the dark wooded, richly decorated parlor of her home while her brother, Vetiver Sumac, watched her with a bored expression from the bench of the baby grand piano. She pushed her long pale fingers through the vibrant red hair at her temples and stopped for a moment, staring straight ahead, before tugging her hair and letting out a frustrated groan. Vetiver stood and walked over to Lillian as she began to pace again.

"Lill, what is wrong?" He gripped her by the shoulders and stood, arms outstretched, to look at her pale face.

"Something has happened to Viridian. I can sense it, or rather, I can't sense her. It's like I felt this burst of anger, then nothing. I know I tucked that charm into her purse so I would know how she is doing. Either she has left it somewhere or, more likely, something is blocking me." Lillian let out another frustrated grunt and pushed Vetiver away. "She called me this afternoon and told me that she'd had success in breaking through with her self-divination. Vet, we used the entire coven to block divination about Viridian. How did she manage to break through it?"

Vetiver pulled the exasperated Lillian into a hug and let out a great sigh. "We knew she was strong. How could she not be with that beast of a f-" Lillian pulled away, shoving her hands against his chest so hard that he stumbled backward.

"Don't talk about him. Don't even mention what he was. Our niece is a darling, powerful witch. She is nothing like that mongrel. Viridian is powerful because she comes from our lineage," Lillian thumped a fist against her chest. "Because she is Sam's daughter."

Lillian continued to pace before finally slumping into the small antique darkwood couch. Her blue sea glass eyes stared into the ornate rug. "We need to go after her."

Vetiver scoffed and shook his head, now leaning uneasily against the archway into the parlor. "Lill, if we go after her we will likely run into his people. She went west-against our better judgment-and we don't want any more eyes looking in her direction. Let's at least wait a few days, and if she still doesn't contact us, we will head west." He threw his hands up and groaned when he saw the determined look on his sister's face.

"Fine. I'll give it three days, let's just hope she is still alive by then." The venom in Lillian's voice caused him to wince. Arguing for anything more would be an effort in futility. With Lillian's mind set, Vetiver took out his phone and began to contact the coven about Viridian's sudden disappearance and Lillian's intuition. She was seldom wrong. The coven would agree, however reluctantly, to let them go. It was unwise to go near the Black Cedar Forest, but there were covens there that would welcome their own kind.

Vetiver watched Lillian storm past him, her pale red curls bouncing as her footsteps echoed back to him from the distant reaches of the house. Always strong-willed and short-tempered, Lillian had been at the forefront of the three siblings. Now, as the years passed after Samantha's death, Lillian's personality became even more acrid and brash. Vetiver knew why. Each time she caught her own reflection in a mirror, she felt that sharp stab that Vetiver felt each time he looked at his sister. Though the three were triplets, Lillian and Samantha were identical twins. He was the one removed. The darker haired, green-blue eyed boy who lagged behind and observed as the two girls found mischief. He held resentment toward Johan for taking Samantha away from them, though Vetiver secretly accepted the union. Lillian, on the other hand, held fierce animosity toward Johan Orren to the point that she had refused to acknowledge the union and stopped talking to Samantha right up to her death.

After the calls were made, Vetiver looked down at his phone. Sunlight dappled leaves, blue sky, and three smiling faces. He had loved Viridian as his own child and raised her as such. Lillian, too, had cared for the girl but he could tell that each time Lillian looked at the child she could only see the man who sired her. Their relationship was tenuous. At times, Viridian would look up at Lillian, golden eyes sparkling, as she was taught the ways of the craft. Other times, the two would have shouting matches where Viridian begged her aunt to speak about Viridian's parents only to be met with knife-edged words that cut both. He, standing outside the squabble as he did with Lillian and Samantha, would remain silent and refuse to take sides. Oh, he knew that Viridian had a right to know about her father, but he could never go against his sister's wishes.

Vetiver locked the screen and slid it into his back pocket. There was a small portion of his heart that hoped Viridian was able to discover more about herself when she went west. Perhaps she had even found out the truth of her heritage. Mostly, he hoped that the werewolves of the Black Cedar Forest would not seek to destroy the precious creature that was Viridian Orren.

**

"Nah, What I said was that if it's true-which I'm not saying it is-that she must be one gorgeous woman. A man like Davey doesn't just go all primal like that for nothing." The man at the bar was gesturing to the bartender who rolled her eyes, then stiffened as she saw Daven enter. "I mean, we've known the guy practically since we were born and he-"

"Shut the hell up Kellan." Rehan snapped before turning her attention to Daven. "Afternoon, Chief."

Kellan murmured a curse under his breath and turned to timidly lift his pint glass to greet him. Daven grunted and sat on a stool near Kellan who suddenly seemed very interested in the phone that sat on the polished wood counter. "So, it's already reached here, huh?"

Rehan nodded slowly and began pouring Daven his usual whiskey. "I wouldn't have heard if not for this slack-jawed idiot."

Kellan's head shot up. "Hey, I am only telling you because I know you can be trusted, it's not like the bar is full or anything. No one's going to overhear."

"Is that why you kept talking even though I walked in? Do me a favor and next time you're curious about my personal life, just ask me." Daven's eyebrow rose in question as he looked at Kellan who shrank away from his gaze.

"Yeah, well.." Shaking his head, Kellan set a few bills on the counter, shoved his hands into his jacket pocket and slunk out of the bar.

"He might be a jackass, but he cares." Rehan rested her forearms on the bar and looked at Daven. Her brown eyes were solemn and filled with concern. "Hell, Chief, we all care. The rumors, they're just that aren't they? Rumors."

"Depends on which version you heard. Did I drag her into the manor by the leg, on the verge of full krenos, her neck nearly severed from the severity of my bite before taking her into my quarters and having my way with the unconscious-possibly dead-girl?" Daven knocked back the drink and Rehan, baffled, refilled it with a slosh extra for good measure.

"Not exactly." She coughed and flipped her long black braid back over her shoulder so it hung down her back. Crossing her arms she said, "The way Kellan told it, you brought a girl to the manor. Unconscious and marked. He also said that she wasn't wolf."

Nodding thoughtfully, he smiled ruefully. "Yeah, sounds like you got the good version."

"Well, is there truth to it?" Rehan folded her arms over her chest.

Daven looked at Rehan. She was one of his oldest friends and strongest fighters. Unlike Kellan or the others who would engage in pointless gossip, she'd keep her mouth shut. Releasing a great sigh and some of the tension, Daven told her the truth. "Yeah, there's truth to it. Sweet darkness, any wolf within a good twenty meters would be able to tell that she was marked and not a wolf."

He shook his head and stared into the drink, thinking about how the whiskey was the same color as the brown in her eyes. Rehan let out a long whistle. "Damn, Chief. You care to explain, or do you just want me to shut up and hand you the whole damn bottle?" Glancing back at the bottle in question, she grimaced and amended her statement. "Or perhaps I should grab a new case and just hand you that."

Chuckling, Daven rubbed his hands over his face and grinned half-heartedly at his friend. "You see, that's why I came to you." Groaning, he motioned for her to bring the bottle. "I can't explain it, Rehan. I know that a mark is not to be given lightly and certainly never to be forced upon someone. She just got under my skin and-" He shook his head.

"I'm not one to judge, the council will have a fun enough time doing that. All I care about is whether or not you still need me to stand by your side." Daven looked up with raw relief in his eyes as he looked at her. Rich tanned skin and trim, well-toned body, Rehan was a beautiful woman. In the past, they had shared a bed on occasion. At one point, Daven had thought he loved her, but even then he had never thought of marking her. It was a gravely serious thing and regardless of that, Rehan was willing to stand by him. He drank the rest of his whiskey and stood.

"Thanks, but it won't come to that." Daven reached for his wallet but was stopped by Rehan's dismissive gesture.

"I'll add it to Kellan's tab. He owes you." Rehan winked and watched, with a wary expression, as Daven left the bar.

**

Cedar smoke, rich tobacco, and juniper lingered in the air. It was a strong, masculine scent that permeated everything around her. Viridian shifted and found herself on a large, firm bed. She stretched her arms and legs and paused when she didn't feel the headboard or footboard of the bed. Sweeping her arms and stretching her toes, she realized that she didn't feel the edge of the bed at all. Peeking one eye open, Viridian was struck with the darkly embroidered canopy that stretched over the richly carved, dark wooden posts of a bed far larger than she had ever been on before. The sumptuous fabrics and mattress beckoned her back to sleep, but the warmth she had found previously had chilled into icy fear.

"Calm down, you're safe enough." The irritation in the gravely feminine voice surprised Viridian, yet it also seemed to put her at ease. As Viridian pulled herself into a sitting position, no easy task with the ache in her head, she saw the back of a woman, crushing something with a mortar and pestle. She turned and gave Viridian a sympathetic look.

"Where is it that I am 'safe enough'?" Viridian asked coolly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and biting back a curse when she felt a wave of nausea slither through her belly. She blinked and flexed her fingers and felt pleased when she felt the snap of connection to her powers. The link was weak, but it was there.

"We're on the Eastern border of the Black Cedar Forest. This little village is called Eyren and is where the tribe negotiates with the leaders of western Telland. You are safe enough because you are under the protection of our tribe's leader," Gia said before whispering tartly, "and under my protection from him."

Viridian pushed her hair off of her shoulders, wincing as her fingers brushed the tender flesh surrounding the mark, and looked down at the pajamas she still wore. "Safe enough if I disregard being a captive to that..." She considered it for a moment. "That ass."

Gia laughed and turned back around, busily pouring the powdered contents into a glass and adding water. "Here, this will help with the headache. I am not going to defend him to you, he is an ass."

Looking down at the cup, Viridian scanned it for anything that could be harmful. Surprised, she turned to Gia. "This is the same thing I use at home for headaches."

Pleased, Gia sat on the dark wood framed couch that sat facing Viridian's side of the bed. "I'm not surprised. It's a rather basic potion. I taught it to your father many years ago."

Curiosity piqued, Viridian took a more studious look at the woman sitting across from her. She was older, with deeply tanned skin and striking blue eyes. Her black hair, pulled back from her face and flowing freely down her back, was streaked with lines of silver. Viridian sipped her drink as she contemplated what the woman had just said. "Who are you that you knew my father?"

"I am Gia Warren, the shaman of our tribe. A medicine woman by trade. Your father was a boy when I was apprentice to the former healer of the tribe. He would come by with his father, and his brother." Viridian shuddered at the mention of Daven. She did not want to believe that it was true and Daven was her uncle. More than that, she did not know if she believed her father was one of them.