Sun and Earth, Ocean Tides

Author's Note:

This story is a sequel to Sun and Earth. I highly advise you read that story first before beginning this one. There are key plot points that carry over from Sun and Earth that I'm not going to give full exposition for in this sequel. Also, if you're looking for instant gratification then this is not the series for you. Thank you and I hope you enjoy this second installment of Parker and Micah's adventures.



Sun and Earth, Ocean Tides

Chapter 1

My Wolf ran through the sweet smelling woods. Her mind was focused, sharp and unable to deter from her current target. Her source of prey was weak. Trees whipped by her, scents observed and noted to further aid her impeccable tracking skills. Was anyone following us? Yes. But not too closely. The pack was on her heels, trailing at a safe distance knowing full well who took the lead on the moonlit runs, their Alpha. She veered right suddenly, acknowledging that the scented path had changed and they were gaining. Hooves beat against the soft forest floor, letting her know we were closing in. A wolf to her right howled, intimidating the beast. She grinned a wolfish grin and let her tongue loll to the side of her mouth feeling the wind whipping her face as she ran.

Her answering cry to her fellow wolves was earth shattering and full of life, the joy of the hunt permeated the air around the wolves, too overwhelming to contain. As she flicked her tail, ordering her pack to spread out and allow her to take the kill, as is the Alpha's place, she saw a lone wolf running 20 yards away from her. His eyes were sharp golden amber and he ran with the fury of bloodlust. After running another quarter mile chasing their prey she realized he was closing in on the kill. Her heart stopped in panic and fury. No, no not again. He was too fast, too taken in by the bloodlust to be stopped, she lost sight of him.

Suddenly a thud and a crack reverberated throughout the forest, she growled in anger. Rushing towards the smell of blood, another wolf joined her on her left, protecting her, she huffed in annoyance. She was perfectly capable of hunting on her own. They encountered a slight incline and once to the top, now being joined by more wolves from her so-called pack, stopped to observe the scene.

One wolf was hunched over the prey. He was large, bigger than any other wolf in the pack. His coat gleamed a brilliant copper with the smallest smudge of black underneath his right eye. It was a sign amongst her pack, the smudge, this wolf was deigned to be pack executioner. And rightly so, giving his overbearing size. But he was also slightly emaciated. The ribs underneath his fur were poking out, giving him a starved look. The way his eyes glinted dangerously over the carcass gave away that he truly was in full blood lust mode and it was a losing battle. He wouldn't eat the meat of this animal as her other wolves would, he would just drink its blood.

She growled and ran, preparing herself for the impact. A couple wolves snarled and whined behind her, most likely arguing with their human halves on whether or not they should let her go. They were wise to not interfere as she would not be taking any shit from anyone tonight. She picked up speed, flying through the trees and leaped over the intimidating creature, grabbing his attention.

The wolf turned with a clumsy speed, he was still under some kind of hypnosis due to the moose blood on the ground. He leapt for her ankle as she flew overhead. A snap echoed in her ears as her ankle broke and she sucked in her breath trying not to whimper. 'All right, girl, enough with the games'. I whispered to my wolf. As she was currently in control she took the brunt of the pain from the snapped ankle. I pumped a cool yet weak energy from within us into the pain and harnessed a much stronger warmth into the wolf crouched over the moose.

He howled in pain as I boiled the skin and fur on his corresponding ankle with my inborn magic, a punishment for disobeying the order of things. He dropped instantly to the ground, two wolves stood on either side of him, snarling at the pathetic site of the behemoth wolf cowering in pain. My girl sighed and barked at the remaining pack to eat the kill.

None moved. They were all waiting for my wolf and I to take the first bite, their Alpha. This was what the giant wolf should have done, but being a blood addict comes with prices to bear. I snarled at my pack, if I moved from where I stood before the cool earth energy had healed me completely, they would know I had broken my ankle, they would see me as weak and that was something my wolf and I could not afford in these early stages of our reign as Alpha. Eventually, after many snarls of warning, making it look like I wanted to keep my energy focused on the blood lustful wolf, they conceded to my wishes and finished off the moose.

The large wolf looked up at my wolf and I. There was no snarl, no growl and no anger within the now black eyes. Only fear and sorrow clouded the judgment of this werewolf. Our heart softened at the small whimper he let go and our energy drained.

After what felt like the longest night we'd had in a while, the sun finally came up. By now most of the wolves had gone to sleep, huddling amongst one another. My girl watched over them as was our job as Alpha. Something I hadn't fully come to terms with and was unsure that I ever would.

The Alpha is just one person. My girl and I protected the entire pack and the souls of all those who lived in the aptly named Wolftown, USA. A fairly large settlement in upstate New York. Before my feelings could truly turn bitter, my wolf whimpered. Our pack was already beginning to slowly shift back to their human forms, with the rise of the sun came their transition and we knew it was time to make ours as well.

The pain hit and as she gave me back control of our body, our souls passed through one another, becoming one for a millisecond of bliss. A normal werewolf would have been able to 'speak' or share a spirit with their wolf 24/7 but we were slightly different, having given up that true connection a werewolf has with her inner wolf. We were essentially two souls living within the same body; the process was called scindo, the split, and it was considered abominable to undergo the process. It was a mage curse, originally designed as torture. It wasn't hard to wonder why they used it.

As my fingers went from hairy to human, a warm, naked body scooped me up and ran the 30 minutes with me back to my house. Any other day I would have snarled and clawed until blood was drawn and I was allowed to walk of my own volition. But I was in too much pain to care. Upon arriving at our destination the man gingerly placed me on the porch and offered up his neck to me in obedience with a snarky wink.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Michael asked, not looking me in the eye, knowing he was risking my temper carrying me back to my house. Michael was my third, a good man...a loyal man who had despised the previous Alpha of the pack, who also happened to be my father. When I re-structured the pack after killing him, I made sure all those who had disliked the way my father ran the pack sat nice and close to me at the dinner table.

Michael leaned over my ankle, careful not to stare directly at it lest my Wolf saw it as a threat. This soon after our transition, her influence was a little more substantial. Michael's fingers probed the injury and I couldn't help but look at the well muscled wolf before me. His body was well defined, his skin a pitch black that matched the fur of his coat. In the dead of night no one could spot him. His eyes however, were the clearest blue I had ever seen. An anomaly that was passed down from generation to generation within his original pack. I had always wondered how he had ended up here instead of staying on with his birth pack. I filed the question away in my mind to ask when the bones in my ankle weren't on fire.

"Don't know what you're talking about." I answered, a small smile trying desperately to grace my lips as opposed to snarling at him. Which I dearly wanted to do.

"Too right you don't." he looked behind me towards the front door of my house, his face turning cold. "I'll leave you then." he turned to go but paused before he did. I answered the question posed on his lips.

"Contain Chris; I'll...deal with him later." I was dying to reach down and rub my ankle to release some tension, but I couldn't allow myself to show weakness in front of my third. Even if he had already acknowledged that I was injured.

With a short bow and a quick glare to the figure behind me, who was no doubt glaring right back at Michael, he ran off to deal with the problem and then, most likely, back home to his wife and children.

I sighed, hating my life and the complications that accompanied it, until warm arms circled my naked body, lifting me up and into the cozy 1940's style home. I lay my head on his chest, clothed with a simple long sleeved thermal t-shirt, underneath the shirt was copper skin I knew as well as my own pale flesh. Soft, full lips placed a kiss on my wild and knotted red hair and I nearly purred.

"You." I sighed, knowing I was home and safe in his arms.

"Yes, me." Micah whispered, nuzzling my head.

Micah, my mate. The lone reason why I put up with any of the shit in my pack. I came home to him every night and he waited for me, sometimes with dinner on the table. Most likely in the fridge, his half already eaten, and me arriving five hours later than I had intended. So had been our lives since I acquired the title of Alpha by killing my father.

Micah and I were a very rare couple. I was a Werewolf and he a Mage. Until about two months ago Werewolves and Mages had been in a war with each other for 500 years. The war had started with a male Mage and female Wolf who had undesirably mated. Mating was a force that you could not fight. Nobody truly knew when or how it originated or what the deciding factors of tying two souls together were. But once you mated and consummated that mating by having sex, and speaking from personal experience, the desire to fuck your mate upon first making eye contact with them was painful and overwhelming, there was no turning back. Connected, needing that other person to depths of your soul until the end of time.

Unfortunately, Mating doesn't always mean the two who mate automatically fall in love. Micah and I were lucky. I always felt that even if Micah and I hadn't Mated upon our first meeting, and he hadn't fired the gun that was raised at my head, we would have found each other one way or another. But the Wolf of 500 years ago had incidentally already been married to the most influential male Alpha of the time. The Mage had no desire to be Mated, but as these things go, neither of them had any say. The Mage and Werewolf dealt with each other, trying to find a way around the various rules that come with Mating, until they simply couldn't take it anymore...and killed themselves. Their deaths were the so-called toll of war, declared by the Werewolves. The Wolves blamed the female Wolf's death on the Mage and vice versa.

In my opinion both sides had been itching for a fight, and this untraditional, yet not wholly unusual mating was just the scapegoat. Matings between species were not uncommon, but the majority of Matings took place within one's own species. However, after the deaths of those two, there were no more Matings...within any species.

Once this trend had been noticed, the Wolves and Mages agreed that if there ever were a successful Mating between the two species they would both cease the fighting. That's where Micah and I came in. I had just finished a moonlit run, emerging from the rain sodden redwoods of Northern California, when Micah stepped out from behind a tree and took a few shots at me with a semi-automatic.

When we laid eyes on each other we Mated. A metaphysical hook digging its way through our souls, connecting one another. Since then we have been inseparable. I didn't love him at first, in fact I thought him a pompous ass, but that changed far quicker than I was comfortable with. It definitely took some time to get used to having, essentially, a husband. I looked the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with in the eye everyday and tried to remember what my life was like prior to our Mating. Part of me couldn't even remember. Not better, I'm sure...just different.

Micah sat me down at the kitchen table. He kneeled in front of me and lifted my right leg. I had been able to heal myself well enough using the magic that was gifted to me by the sun, that it shouldn't have been broken anymore...that didn't mean the pain had lessened however.

"It's not broken." Micah exclaimed in his deep and subtle voice, sending a chill down my spine.

"How did you know I was hurt?"I asked, running a hand through his wavy black hair.

Micah gave me an exaggerated huff but leaned into my stroke anway. "Because Michael carrying you home after a run is such a common occurrence" he replied and I couldn't help but notice the taint of venom in his voice. I shook my head slightly, if I had seen Michael coming to pick me up I would have swatted him away. As third, Michael was technically my official bodyguard. Picking me up to rush me home shouldn't have been such a big deal; the pack wouldn't think anything of it...except I hate being carried around like some all important queen bee.

"I'm pissed that he did it." I said trying to catch Micah's eyes. I wanted to see what was going on in his head, but he kept a studious gaze on my ankle. "I could have walked back."

"It would have taken you hours." His tone was chiding and it made me want to raise my hackles.

"But I would have made it." I argued.

"I would have come looking for you...with half the pack no doubt. I'm sure they would put aside their hatred of me to search for their Alpha." He gently placed my foot on the floor and stood, walking away from me. He was doing that a lot lately.

"Micah, why are we here?" I asked for what seemed like the ten thousandth time. I hated being the Alpha and hardly anyone in the pack trusted Micah which made him the subject of derision and ridicule. It only made sense that we quit the place entirely and finally spend some time alone together.

His laugh was a tad bit insincere for my tastes. "I don't feel like pitying you tonight, Parker."

"I'm not fishing for pity!" I wanted to stand to support my point but my ankle was throbbing.

He turned back to me, clearly over the conversation before it even began. My heart began to hurt. "The situation is undesirable, yes. But we must sustain and deal with it. You are the Alpha of this pack. We can't run away because you have responsibilities-"

"I didn't ask for these responsibilities-"

"For a Werewolf over 200 years old you sure act like a juvenile sometimes."

"Micah, you hate it here." I stood and began to limp towards him, not caring enough to hide what pain I was in. "We need to leave; I'm not going to live in a society that will never accept us as a couple."

He turned back to me, his face drawn with the stress of the past couple months. "We were never meant to be accepted. We are the first in 500 years, Parker. Designed to be scorned and turned away...what we are doing is paving the way for future cross species mates to have a normal life. Therefore we need to act normal, we need to act courageous...we need to impress the Wolf and Mage communities. And your whining isn't helping! Your ankle is fine, I'm going to bed."

"Its morning." I mumbled, too tired to fight for him, and disgusted with myself that I didn't.

He turned back to me, a look I could have sworn resembling disgust tainting his beautiful face, and said "You really think I sleep when you're gone?"

With that he stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to our bedroom shut. Pain lanced through my heart, a feeling I was becoming all too familiar with as our relationship progressed...or regressed I should say. When the proximity restrictions lifted, a sort of temporary binding brought on by the mating, I thought that would be it, we could live our lives as simply as possible with only each other as company. The pack and my Alpha responsibilities soon disillusioned me of that fantasy. I wasn't familiar with this life anymore. The world had changed so drastically in the last century I kept forgetting that I was suppose to grow with it. I felt like I was reverting. I wanted to be that wild child I was when I grew up, care free and earth bound.

I fished through the hamper and retrieved some relatively clean clothes, I didn't feel like showering. Mainly because the shower was upstairs...where Micah was. We had been fighting a lot and it scared me. I was scared of becoming the Mage and the Wolf from 500 years ago, the mated couple that started the war. It scared me to think that Micah could end up like that, alone and resenting me for keeping him from fulfilling his Mage duty... whatever that was. Yet another irk I added to the list of irks concerning my mate.

The old me wouldn't have taken his harsh comments, I would have lashed back with an even sharper sting to my words. I like to think I was becoming more responsible that I let him have his say without interrupting....well not too much. Micah was miserable. I saw it every day and it was killing me, it was killing our relationship. And like it or not we were bound to each other's soul....eternity would suck if we didn't get along.

I was always wired after a night running with my new pack, doubly so on the full moon. I opened the door quietly and limped out, seating myself on the dilapidated front porch. Micah and I were currently living on the land I grew up on. When we moved in the house was in a state of disrepair, so Micah spent the majority of his days playing handyman. The inside of the house was nearly finished but we had neglected to work on the outside. His renovating progress had slowed, probably because the rate of our fighting had increased. What was the point of doing someone a favor that never showed their appreciation? No, instead I came home and bitched about the state of the pack and how annoying I found my current situation.

Micah was right, I was acting like a child. But I couldn't help feeling I was getting the short end of the stick. All I wanted was freedom, when I thought my life would be simple; I became a fulfilled prophecy for the Wolves, when I ran from that fate; the pack caught me and caged me, when I ran again; I felt as though I was constantly looking over my shoulder. When I thought I was finally free I fell in love, only to be caged to this man by yet another prophecy. 'No....' I thought to myself. 'I'm not caged to Micah...I love Micah and he loves me.'

I massaged my ankle slowly, breathing in the dewy morning air. I would have healed from the break without effort on a normal day. But I had recently been in a coma recovering for a month and ever since then I moved just that much slower. Also the fact that I had at least 3 challenges for the Alpha position per week wasn't helping my rest orders from the pack healer. This particular ankle had been broken, stabbed, crushed and mauled at least once a week in the last month. Now it just fucking hurt all the time. I wasn't even 300 years old yet but my body felt like it had lived through a millennium of battles.

My hand instinctively moved away from my ankle, the point of weakness, when my girl alerted me of another's presence. I waited for whoever it was to show themselves.

"I know you're there." I whispered. "Come out, come out."

"Parker Sol Solis?" inquired an indigo haired petite figure, emerging from the tree line. She had large brown eyes hooded with thick lashes and heavy mascara. I attempted to keep my expression neutral as I inwardly scoffed at her outfit. A pants suit made completely of what looked like white silk, just traipsing around the dirty forest. Topping it all were the blue suede pumps she accessorized her tiny feet with. I looked back up at her face, a patient expression coloring her eyes.