Sun and Earth Ch. 09

Stay safe. I support you. I miss you. I love you.

Mom

"Fuck." I screamed. Micah jumped and dropped the paper, after a quick recovery he turned me towards him on his lap and made me look him in the eye.

"Love?" he asked, drawing the word into a question. "Still sane in there?" his hands brushed my wild hair back from my eyes and he nudged my chin up with his forehead. Part of me wished I knew Micah before we had mated; I wanted to see him without these wolfish qualities that I had given him. On the other hand, that feral look that gave me chills every time he drives into me...you had to be born with that.

I rolled my eyes and ruffled his hair in response to his comment. "I can't think of this right now. I feel like the world is going to end tomorrow and my damn mother decides to drop her first line in centuries... I don't understand."

"What don't you understand? She's worried about you, any parent would be." I hit him with my best sarcastic look "OK maybe not your father..."

"That guy who wants to kill us, yes him." It was Micah's turn to roll his eyes at me.

"I'm sure there is some part of him that loves you, however deep down it is." His lips nipped my ear as his hands wrapped around my body pulling me closer to him.

"No I agree. It's that bit of him that wished I was a son and wanted me to go along with his plan to control me. It's like being behind the steering wheel of the fork lift that could carry the sun."

"You just compared yourself to a forklift."

"You're the one who called me a filter."

"Hey, those were your words not mine."

We looked at each other for half a second in bewilderment before allowing the pressure to come crashing down around us giving ourselves a form of relief in laughter. As we laughed I pushed him onto the floor in front of the now warm fire and lay my head on his chest. Our laughter subsided and we sobered thinking about tomorrow. Micah's hand was brushing my shoulder and every now and then he would kiss the top of my head. I didn't need to ask him to know what he was thinking. I'm sure the same heart-wrenching thoughts I kept having were flying through his mind. What would happen if one of us lost the other? We were soul mates. Surely the other wouldn't be able to survive a broken heart. Our auras were literally connected at the deepest roots of our being. How could having our souls severed be something we were supposed to live beyond?

Anger surged through me not for the first time when thinking about the mating. Part of it seems like some kind of joke and the Gods had deigned us the fucking punch line. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at Micah. His eyes were closed but there was no peace to be found in his expression, his appearance mirrored the anger I felt in my heart. I constantly went over what we did wrong, what turns we shouldn't have made...the rest stops we shouldn't have stopped at.

So many ifs but the one large if I couldn't stop myself from thinking, and hating myself for it, was what if Micah and I had never met? What if I had decided to move a few months earlier than planned? What if I had never settled in the part of California to begin with? What if I had never taken the scindo? What if I had been born a mage? Would Micah love me more if I was a Mage?

I shook my head sending the debilitating thoughts running, my movement caused Micah to open his eyes. His hand cupped my face and he smiled gently.

"I don't regret anything." He whispered. My shoulders relaxed and I let out a long breath I didn't realize I had been holding. I could go over the ifs until doomsday comes, which for us is tomorrow, but all I needed was right in front of me no matter how hard he was to come by.

"I don't regret anything either." I kissed him letting my lips linger on his for a moment. When we pulled apart I put my head back on his chest and draped my leg over his. Micah pulled me in as close as possible and I eventually drifted to sleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

The next morning we both got up early and hungry having not eaten dinner. Micah cooked up some eggs and bacon (with some raw stake on the side to appease my girl). We ate in silence, our feet catching one another under the table. It was our body's need for physical contact since we couldn't exactly satiate the hunger for sex this morning.

It was almost 9AM which signified the end of the truce. We had to be on the meeting grounds before then to have the truce extended to us past the 24 hour truce respite. Micah and I walked out of the home I abandoned 50 years ago hand in hand, him with his weapons and me with my mother's letter in my back pocket. It was pressing on my mind all morning that she would be at the meeting, no doubt disguising her scent and appearance. Once we had stepped out of the house I pushed the thought away to focus on the task at hand.

If the meeting had taken place on Mage territory no doubt it would have been in a somber meeting hall decorated with books and tall backed chairs. Since this meeting was on Wolf territory...it took place in the forest. We were baser creatures, werewolves. Give us a log and some tree cover and you've got yourself a perfect meeting place. Of course my father wouldn't want to give way to any snide comments from the Mages so they provided a table in the middle of a cleared patch of woods.

As we approached I smelled the scent of my old pack along with that of Alpha's and Beta's from other packs. The scent of my pack was warm and comforting; it felt like having my brothers wrapped around me for the first time in 50 years. But while the scents bring back a feeling of welcome, the looks I was given were anything but. Some wolves had their backs turned me, shunning the traitor. Others scowled and snarled at the hands that connected Micah and I.

On the other side of the clearing were the Mages. They were all dressed as casually as Micah ever was. The Mages at the table had suits on but the ones who I'm assuming were coven leaders from around the country wore varying styles of jeans, cardigans and long sleeve t-shirts. A bit more rugged than I had guessed they would appear. Although I thought, stealing a glance at Micah, my mate wasn't exactly the nerdy looking type.

We knew according to the laws of the Truce Meeting we would have to separate once entering the room. Mages on one side and Wolves on the other. To support our unity we stayed straddling the magical line that separated Wolves from Mages, our hands clasped tightly. Once 9AM hit, a visible barrier was erected around the clearing. We waited for the ritual to finish, enclosing all attendees of the meeting in the designated area until an impartial viewer decided the meeting was over. The viewer was usually a Shifter of some kind, sporadically a human was chosen.

Micah and I scoped each side out as the barrier was erected. I saw in the distance behind the table the beginnings of a mountain and a small cliff jutting out from about 30 feet up. That cliff was where I had been named sun savior in front of the Werewolves. To my left, behind where the wolves sat there were 12 trees in a circle. My memory again flashed to my childhood as I sat beneath the trees and listened to their whisperings, the cool feel of the earth tickled my bare feet and the chill allowed me to relax my stance slightly.

On Micah's side the woods stretched out for miles. The mages stood in a line, almost forming their own barrier as they waited for the truce wall to finish. There were three mages that stood behind their chairs at the table. The center mage was no doubt the head of the Coven. His eyes were closed and his chin down looking like he was in prayer. The mage had blonde hair that was cut short and slicked back on his head. His face was narrow and his body looked too skinny to have any athletic quality about him. He looked to be a young man but I knew better. I let my newly acquired aura senses test his strength; it was like trying to hand screw a nail through steel. Impossible.

I finally forced my eyes to the other side of the table and there he was, fully disregarding the ritual of the barrier erection, staring me down with a snarl on his face and hatred in his eyes. He looked the same of course, perhaps a few more wrinkles than I had remembered. His hair was blonde and fell to his shoulders in thick waves; he stood at a towering 6' 2" lined with toned muscles that not only allowed for speed but agility as well. His teeth were slightly elongated as he had ancestors from the Acer Dentis pack...a trait, thankfully, that my brothers and I had failed to inherit. His eyes were the beautiful amber of my pack, except his had specks of red in them. I had always thought it was because he constantly broke blood vessels due to his tense nature. When I was grown the pack Orator Fatum told me he had been born with the birthmarks in his eyes. She told me the pack had taken this as a sign as the fiercest killer, the wolf with blood born in his eyes...they hadn't been too far off.

I allowed my lip to curl up slightly in a grin, baiting him with my confidence. I knew that this little show I was giving him would only last for so long. When all the wolves' eyes were finally open and settled on me in judgment, I would shake in fear. My hand unconsciously squeezed Micah's harder, part of it was fear from what was to come but the other part was excitement. All the running was finally over, my wolf and I have come home and we weren't afraid to take it back from those who would keep us away.

A bell sounded throughout the forest, where it came from I never asked. We knew it signaled the completion of the barrier construction. Now we were all trapped with each other, mages and wolves plus that one impartial spectator. I found that title rather shameful...impartial. This war had spread its shadow much further than any other of the preternatural races had expected that there were no impartial spectators. Our battles have been fought not on our own grounds but those of the Vryks, the Therianthropes...I didn't want to think of how many innocent humans died from this war.

We deceived them. We told them that war and hate would stop with their acceptance and that only our superior natures could protect them. We only brought with us a war worse than any of their own machinations. I regret so much on my kind's behalf, but here in front of me was the chance to correct the mistakes we brought with us upon joining the human world. I glanced at Micah and his eyes met mine, I pushed a slight wave of warmth through his hand and his eyes closed for half a second, feeling my love shoot through his skin. We were ready.

The leaders moved away from the table, their chairs moved back by some mysterious force and they took their places. There was a man standing at the head of the table, the Impartial Spectator. He must have been no taller than myself with cold blue eyes the size of walnuts and purple hair that reached down to his waist. An odd choice for this esteemed position, but I didn't have time to figure out what he was when he spoke.

"This truce meeting has commenced with the completion of the barrier, per the rules of the Truce Meetings there will be no bloodshed inside the circle without a proper challenge. If a challenge is issued then all rules of Truce challenges will be followed to the strictest line. Regulations of said Truce Challenge will be verbalized upon commencement of the Truce Challenge duel." We all listened to the opening speech that began all the meetings, I was usually bored to tears during this part but this man's voice was like butter. His notes glided over my senses calming me and lowering my inhibitions, I began to close my eyes when Micah sent an arrow of hot pain into my palm (unnoticed by the attendees). I looked at him and then back to the man. His steely gaze flashed to me so quickly I would have never noticed. He had been lulling me in on purpose, fucking brilliant. Impartial, my ass.

He spoke for a few more minutes reiterating the rules on how anyone who disobeyed the regulations would be subject to a torture of the other side's making. He then informed the attendees that the last group to speak at the prior meeting had been the wolves so the mages would begin this time. There was silence for a moment until the man to the right of the Coven Leader stood and addressed the court, so to speak.

"I first would like to address a topic that was a matter of...discussion at the last meeting. It was clearly stated by the Alpha of Wolves that if his daughter had not been returned to him by this meeting, he would no longer attend the Truce Meetings and a solution to the war, he would no longer attempt to find." All eyes were on me now. The man unnecessarily gestured to me as he continues you. "As you see she has returned, so I would like to arrange for the date of the next meeting to be scheduled earlier in the meeting than usual. My race would like to assure out people that finding a solution to the end of the war is still possible."

My father stood and faced the mage, when he spoke his voice was low and somewhat gravelly, almost as if he had injured it somehow.

"I would like to point out that my daughter has clearly not returned to her pack of her own volition.

Also, I am in doubt whether or not she has returned undamaged."

"She looks perfectly fine to me Alpha, standing on her own with good color in her cheeks." This from the Mage on the other side of the Coven Leader.

"How do we know it's not some glamour-" this from Marcus who sat on the left of my father. His third in command... if I remember correctly the man had a beautiful talent for making chains made of gold and silver. The metals intertwined with each other like vines on a thousand year old tree, graceful and timeless, weaving its own story. I also remembered that Marcus had an aptitude for ruining his creations by strangling his victims with them. He kept the broken, bloody chains in a glass shadow box in his bedroom. Charming.

"Mages are incapable of glamour without a traditional challenge being issued." said the man at the head of the table

Marcus sat back down with a wave of my father's hand. He glanced over at me, his amber eyes narrowing pondering what his next step should be, no doubt. He knew I would not exactly come when called but did not want the Mages to think he had lost control over one of his own Wolves, especially not his own flesh and blood. I'm sure also didn't want to bring attention to the Mating issue at hand, although I could stake my life on the rumors of my Mating with Micah being the reason why this Truce Meeting's attendance had skyrocketed compared to the previous. He turned back to the man at the head of the table.

"While of course this is true, my comrade was not accusing any Mage in this meeting of spelling my daughter. We would just like to inspect her to see if there has been any lasting damage from previous spells...at the permission of the Impartial Spectator, of course." The man at the head of the table turned to me, his eyes glazed over mine and Micah's intertwined hand and then over to Micah. My girl's hackles rose inside me, she didn't like the way the man had fixed his gaze on our mate.

Micah squeezed my hand gently and then let go. My hand felt naked as it lowered to my side and my insides squirmed as Micah stepped forward.

"With permission I would like to address the Meeting." His chocolate voice rang clear throughout the woods, he demanded the attention of the participants with a few syllables and notes. The butter voiced man acknowledged Micah with a nod of his head and waved my father to sit back down as he began to protest.

"My name is Micah, I am a Mage. Until recently I was Un Ivestigador for my race. A very high ranking position among my kind." He took a deep breath, willing himself to continue. We had planned for Micah to reveal the truth about our mating to the council and coven but it was proving more difficult than we imagined. I felt his panic, I saw it within his aura, that piercing fear that upon uttering the words chaos would break out and we wouldn't be able to protect each other.

"I am no longer Un Investigador because I have been running...with Parker Sol Solis. We met a week ago and from the moment our eyes met our souls have been linked." A general murmur broke out amongst the crowds. I waited for the bomb to drop. "Parker Sol Solis, a Werewolf, daughter of the Sol Solis Alpha..." he glanced back at me and I nodded "Orator Por Sol Solis...Sun Savior for the Werewolves-" a harsh cry from the Wolves accompanied by fierce discussion from the Mages rose above his voice. These were trade secrets of the Wolves I had just allowed Micah to speak...If I wasn't considered a traitor before, I surely would be now. Micah continued.

"Parker and I have Mated." He yelled. This brought everything to a standstill. I moved forward and stood in front of him; I looked at the Wolves...my wolves and dared them to move. I made sure to look each and every one of them in the eye and made sure they understood that this man was mine, my mate. I staked my claim on him and if any harm came to Micah, I would rip their throats out with my teeth.

"Prove it." I heard a voice call out from the Wolves. I couldn't tell who it was but the voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"They do not need to." The Coven Leader finally spoke. He rose from his chair and addressed the crowd. "I felt it from the moment they entered the space, I see it on their auras...the lines and swirls of their souls connect like a river flowing into an ocean. They are sharing the other's powers-" a growl from the wolves cried out at this revealing information. "We the Mages acknowledge that Micah, a mage, and Parker, a Werewolf, have mated."

My father stood. "We, the Werewolves, do not acknowledge Micah and Parker as a Mated pair."

Typical, I thought to myself.

"What shall it take to prove that they are mates, Wolf Alpha?" the butter voiced man asked my father.

"An Impartial source." He looked pointedly at the man.

"You know I cannot sense auras...but I do sense another impartial spectator nearby that can see auras and will be able to tell us if they are connected or not." The man closed his eyes and hushed whispers spread throughout the clearing. The barrier shook momentarily and a tall, slender figure strolled towards the man at the head of the table. I attempted to compose myself, not wanting the crowd to acknowledge that I recognized the Vrykólakas who was now sauntering into the middle of a war meeting like it was nothing. I felt the mages' mouths begin to water as Mina's pheromones permeated the enclosed space. The impartial man, seeing their reaction, waved a hand and they soon returned to their senses.

"He cut off their sense of smell." Micah whispered in my ear.

"What is he?" I murmured back.

"Your guess is as good as mine. His aura is indescribable...I think I'm seeing colors that don't subsist on our plane of existence."

Once Mina reached the head of the table she went on bended knee and bowed her head to the buttery voiced man. He placed his wrist in front of Mina and she scented it gently, holding it as delicately as the finest piece of blown glass. After exchanging the proper pleasantries, Mina rose and turned to Micah and I. We kept our faces neutral, but a small smile formed at the corner of her mouth. She was enjoying herself...and she was pissed. Mina usually had a lithe manor of flowing from space to space. This attitude she was emitting was nothing short of tense, to the untrained eye however, she would look as relaxed as the next Vryk. For a moment I feared she would deny us, wouldn't help us and tell the onlookers that we were not mated.

"I can see their auras feeding each other. They are mated." Mina went to leave the circle but stopped and turned back to the Man. "Do you mind if I stay a bit longer?"