Sharing The Blended Lives Chronicles A Battle of Choices with the World – Week One
By Patty L. Fletcher
The Blended Lives Chronicles: A Battle of Choices
Words for Alt Text:
Book 2 square photo – A blood red background with white font. The title, The Blended Lives Chronicles sits on the top in smaller font. A Battle of Choices is in the center, with larger font, displaying this as the main focus. Patty L Fletcher is on the bottom right hand corner in medium font. The logo sits on the center.
The logo is a white skeleton key with its top key ring angled to the right and the bottom angled to the left. The key sits inside the space of a crescent moon, also in white, but with a thin black border. The crescent moon opening is angled down to the bottom right.
About the Book:
Lady Laya MoonWalker and Derrick Gibbous find themselves, once again, at odds with those who would segregate and purify anyone deemed unworthy. When Laya begins to fulfill a prophecy set by higher powers, she must learn to wield her magick in new ways. Amidst the fight to protect their loved ones, they each must choose when to sacrifice and when to hold strong to their beliefs, their love, and their morality.
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A LADY MOONWALKER SERIES
Book Two
By Patty L. Fletcher
Independently published with assistance provided by
Dawn Blythe
Illustrations by Colleen Myles
Editing by Jo Pinto and Dawn Blythe
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2024 by Patty Fletcher
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 9798340497987
Dedication Page
The Blended Lives Chronicles is dedicated to those who work tirelessly to bridge the great chasm which separates the disAbled from the non-disAbled.
It is dedicated to all those who are open-minded, and acceptant. Those who are able and willing to see past the broken pieces of someone like me, and still allow them to be part of their world.
To all who believe “All Lives Matter!”
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I must admit, I’m terrified for you to do so.
The Order of the Night salutes you!
May Harmony find You.
Blessid Be.
Prologue
Casualties of War
Celtic New Year’s 2061
Moon Phase: New
Derrick sat among the drunken Clear Bloods, allowing their teasing to wash over him. He hated this role, but what choice did he have? If he didn’t learn what plans were being set against the Blended Lives Federation, everything he’d fought for would be lost.
He’d first met Laya over a decade ago when he had been her Blended Lives instructor. They’d shared happy times, but when she’d gone back to Korponious, her life had turned itself inside out. Because of her fiancé’s abuse, her mental illness had spun horribly out of control. For a time, she’d been trapped in the darkness. It was a prolonged period of spiraling behavior, during which she had destroyed their friendship and had damn near killed herself.
Some years later, after she’d rebuilt her life and risen to her rightful place as leader and High Priestess of the People of Korponious and received her second dog King, they’d reconnected at a Blended Lives Federation Convention. While working out their differences, they had gotten dangerously entangled in an interplanetary government overthrow attempt. Laya had been kidnapped, tortured, and almost killed.
Derrick had risked his life and freedom to save her and had worked tirelessly once they were reunited to help King and Laya to rehabilitate, only to be separated from her when war broke out again.
After the government had come apart for the second time and they’d both ended up in the war, he’d found himself amazed when he’d learned the extent of Laya’s involvement in the infiltration into the Clear Bloods Clan and her work toward their destruction. When he was captured and threatened with death, she’d stood firm in her negotiation for Korponious. She’d overseen and taken part in his rescue. Eventually, thanks to Laya’s strong leadership and the people she’d selected to stand with her, a truce was negotiated, and a ceasefire put into place until things could be properly decided. The worst part of the uproar was that he and Laya couldn’t marry until they settled everything. Not because he wasn’t able to marry her, but because she wouldn’t leave her people to be with him until their future was secure.
Laya simply said, “No one looked out for me and mine, not while I was growing up, nor when I was raising my own. So, until everything is secure for my people, my decision stands. It is not only my inheritance. It’s a calling. A full-time job, which requires one hundred percent commitment of me and demands that all else, aside from my guide King, be set aside until my successor for the Mistress of Novices is revealed.”
He respected her for her decisions, but his double assignment was taking its toll. He’d just spent 10 excruciating minutes explaining to the noxious Clear Bloods how he had Laya under his power. It sickened him to say such things about his beautiful lady. He exerted no control over her and would never do so unless he found her to be placing herself or another in danger. Why the bloodthirsty fools couldn’t see how disgusting that mindset was boggled his mind.
“So, Derrick, are you sure your ‘Lady’ will do as you wish?” Raymond smirked.
“Gods, I hope so. I’ve spoken such sweet talk of late, my fangs are full of cavities.”
The room erupted in roars of laughter.
Suddenly, he felt Laya’s presence. With a sense of trepidation, Derrick rose and started toward the door, hissing at Raymond, “Stay back.”
Young vampires scattered so Derrick and the leader, Ken, could pass. The room fell silent when Derrick opened the door in time to see a slight flash of Laya’s robes as she shifted away.
“Uh oh. No nooky for the commander tonight.” A few jeers and catcalls rose above Raymond’s laughter. Derrick ignored them.
But there was no ignoring the growl from Ken. “You fool. I told you something like this could happen. Why didn’t you tell her?”
“I’ll fix it.”
“You can’t give her anymore serum. You’ve given her the memory removal agent twice. It is time to tell her.”
“This is no place to talk,” Derrick snarled back.
“Hey guys, are we gonna discuss the rest of our plans, or are you and Ken gonna stand there all night bemoaning the wrath of your ‘Lady’?”
A mix of supportive and disbelieving mutters rumbled their way round the room. It was a widely held belief of the Clear Blood Clan that Derrick and Ken shared Laya. Derrick was ready to smash his fist through Raymond’s face when Ken’s voice, low and menacing, stated, “Derrick, funny or not, you need to go and deal with this. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes sir, I’ll report shortly.” And with that, Derrick left the room, taking the whispers of his newly acquired Clear Blood brothers with him.
Sitting in her private prayer chamber, Laya worked to calm her anger, while trying to match what she’d heard with what she thought to be true. Was Derrick playing both ends against the middle? What she’d heard had certainly sounded real.
“Oh Derrick! How could you betray my love? Worse, how can you betray the Federation? I decree! Derrick Gibbous, Second in Command of the Order, if you’re not true, then with me you shall not be.”
Laya wiped her face. Then, as she raised her head to chant, she caught a distant thought. Filing it away, she declared,
“There is no part of my body which does not belong to the Goddess. There is no part of my life which does not belong to the Goddess. I’m She and She is me. We are one, yet we are we. As I will. As She will, as we will, So! Mote! It! Be! Blessid Be. Amen.”
With that, she rose, walked into her washroom, untied the house robe she wore, and let it fall to the floor. She went to the sink to wash up and brush her hair. When finished, she turned to leave, calling out, “Wolverine, do you have my dress robe? I hate dressing like some sort of centuries-gone-by priestess, but if I must, I want to do it in style!” she continued ranting as she wandered into the bedroom, flopping down in a chair.
Wolverine was a short, round young lady. She had long, fiery red hair, wore bright, outrageously colored clothing and until now, hadn’t given a fig what others thought of her.
“I’m here, Miss. No worries. You’re going to be the belle of this witch’s ball. The blue silks are woven so beautifully. It makes the many shades of blue appear to be shifting when you move. I can’t wait to see the robe on you. I must admit, it was smashing that Mister Derrick ordered it made for you. Did you hear the whispers from the other ladies in the dress shop? They were all a-goggle with awe.”
Laya reached a loving hand to Wolverine and drew her down to her breast in a gentle embrace. “Wolverine, do you know how important to all of us you’re becoming? You’ve helped me in ways you can’t know.”
“I heard you crying in prayer, Miss,” Wolverine admitted ashamedly.
“No, love. No shame. My crying was loud. You couldn’t help but hear.”
“Can I help?”
“You’re helping by being here any time I need you. You’re lovely and good, and even though you get into mischief sometimes, Derrick and I love you.”
“How can you say Derrick loves you when he treats you so shabbily?” Wolverine slipped from Laya’s arms and stood. “Miss, I won’t stand for this! You can punish me, but Mister Derrick certainly knows what he’s about. He said those things, and he meant them.”
Then, realizing she’d said too much in anger at the way her beloved mistress was being treated, she stepped back and stood, head down, waiting.
“Wolverine!” Laya commanded. “It’s clear that you have knowledge of the situation. As your Head Mistress, Lady High Priestess and Mentor, I command you to tell all. If you don’t, no matter how much I love you, I’ll strap it out of you. What would your uncle Randall think if he were here to see you involved with such beings? Take the easy way, girl.”
When Wolverine had agreed to this mission, she’d believed Lady Laya MoonWalker to have been responsible for her uncle’s death. Now that she was here, working with her daily, Wolverine no longer believed in such tripe. She knew she’d signed on for the wrong side, but she did not know how to untangle herself from this knot of vipers.
Wolverine Castell came from a mixed race, which some still referred to as mutts. She was Casimian, Korponian, and New Earth. She was the first of her family to rise so high in the ranks, but to feel pride for this now seemed ridiculous. The truth was the truth, and there was no denying it.
“Wolverine! I’m waiting. Young lady, what’s it to be? Talk, or howl and then talk?”
Wolverine shivered at the thought of Laya’s strap.
Suddenly, the decision was ripped from her hands. Laya took a long breath. “Enough. You will learn to speak when spoken to. You’re the assistant to the High Priestess of Korponious, and you’ll always behave as such in all places.”
With that, Laya embraced the power, Wolverine’s body rose, and hovered in the middle of the room. Her clothing fell to the floor, and the feel of a leather strap began. Stroke after painful stroke landed up and down Wolverine’s backside, causing her to utter short sharp grunts of pain, but no discernible words.
“Had enough yet, girl?” Laya expertly worked the strap round Wolverine’s inner thighs. “If not, we can move to level two, though I’m doubtful of you withstanding it long.”
Wolverine’s breath came in sobbing gasps as she pleaded, “No, Mistress. Please? I’ll do as you ask, no more. Please, Miss? I’ll obey.”
Laya continued strapping the poor girl’s plump behind, the thud of leather striking naked flesh ringing throughout the wing, causing anyone within earshot to shiver.
“You must no longer disobey me. From here forward, I will meet any infraction with a swift and painful replay of today. You will do as I ask, and Mister Derrick as well. You leave me no choice for these things to be so unless you tell me the truth.”
Laya released the power and allowed Wolverine to float slowly back to the floor. “Wash yourself and come see me in my study when you’re through. I’ll dress myself and then we’ll talk.”
With that noisome chore done, Laya quickly flashed herself into her robe, taking a moment to relish the fine silks as they rustled against her skin. Then, weaving a flow of air, she styled her hair. Though the mission was a serious affair, there was something about putting on clothes such as these that gave her a genuine thrill. In a commanding voice, she called her dog. “King, come. Let’s go unravel the rest of this mystery.”
Wolverine stood in her mistress’ washroom, splashing water over her tear-stained face. For a moment, she entertained the thought of dampening a towel to press against her blistered skin, but she was to have no comfort from the misery brought about by her punishment.
Though Mistress Laya had only given her a dozen strokes on her behind and five or six on her legs, the sting of the strapping would be with her for a few days. She had expected her mission to be difficult, but she’d not been ready for all this. What she wanted was to fly into the study, fling herself into her mistress’ arms and confess everything. She no longer cared what turning on the Clear Bloods might mean for her. She longed to feel the love of someone who genuinely cared.
Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door. “Wolverine? Open the door and let me in.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress. I didn’t mean to take so long.”
“Hush, it’s all right now.” Speaking softly, Laya placed her hand on Wolverine’s head to cast a work of healing.
“There, that must feel much better. You’re such a brave girl and I’m immensely proud of you. Your uncle Randall would be proud as well.”
“But you said—Miss, I don’t understand.”
“I know. If you’ll come and sit with me a bit, I believe I have time to explain things to you before tonight’s festivities.”
Taking a towel from the rack beside the sink, Laya dried Wolverine’s face. Then, leading her into the study, Laya sat on the love seat and pulled the shivering girl down beside her.
In a soothing voice, she said, “No more tears now, love. I’ve much to explain to you.”
“I’ve things to say too, Miss.”
“There is no need. The Clear Bloods trapped you into a mission you didn’t have all the facts for. They sucked you in and once they did, you had no way out.”
“How did you—?”
“Derrick figured it out last week.”
“Oh Miss, Mister Derrick.”
“Hush. Things aren’t always as they seem. Didn’t your uncle teach you to read between the lines?”
“But your prayer, your decree? I don’t understand?”
Laya sighed. The girl should be able to see such things on her own. She supposed her fright was keeping her from realization.
“Though I spoke true and did indeed cast, it was mostly a ploy to force you to choose. We believed you’d choose the right side, and I’d hoped not to need to strap you so painfully. But when you wouldn’t speak, I had to follow through.”
“I understand that part, but all the rest—”
“Shhhh. It’s all right. We have you now, and it’s all right.”
“But if I don’t report in, things will go wrong.”
Laya held the girl away from her, gently stroking her damp curls from her face. “After tonight, nothing of the sort will be possible. What we need from you now are two simple yet exceedingly difficult things. First, we need to know what, if anything, is planned for tonight. It would be an opportune time for an attack. Next, we’ll need to have your assurance that no matter what is asked of you, you’ll obey us without question. Wolverine, you’re the niece of one of the most powerful vampires ever to walk in the worlds. Randall was—”
“Oh, Miss, I’m sorry! They told me you caused his death! I’d have never done these things had I known. I know, to many, Uncle Randall seemed forbidding and terrible. But when he wasn’t being called upon to lead crusaders into battle or helping to balance the powers of the world, he was my Uncky.”
In her stress, Wolverine had reverted to the childhood name she’d called her uncle, and as Laya gathered the sobbing, shivering girl into her arms again, she tried to imagine a version of the giant vampire who’d allowed himself to be called “Uncky.” Though she’d known Randall Jennings to be a kind and fair vampire when situations allowed, she couldn’t quite do it.
“Hush now, Darling. You’re not alone. Wash your face again. You must get ready, too. Derrick will be here shortly to retrieve us, and you must be my assistant tonight. I will walk with King leading me. You will walk beside Derrick and hold his arm as we enter the room. He’s acknowledging you as part of his family. Do as you’re told, and all will go well.”
When the girl had gone, Derrick stepped into the room and sank down beside Laya on the love seat. “Do you think she can manage this? She sounded a bit undone.”
“She’s Randall Jennings’ niece; she’s made of strong stuff, and she’ll do fine. However, I agree with her on several points. One being that you and I are due a conversation during which I hope to have several things explained.”
“Laya, I did what I did because—”
She held her hands toward him, palms out. “No! Derrick, not here. I’m your betrothed. I’m also High Priestess Lady Laya MoonWalker of Korponious, and you’ll speak the truth to me in my place of choosing and on my terms. Now we’ve a mission. I’m aware of your work with the Clear Bloods, and you must put aside all personal grievances and loves.”
Derrick looked up and saw Wolverine hovering outside the door.
“Come in. Sit and talk with us a bit. You’ve valuable information, and all you need to do is tell us what you know about the Clear Bloods’ plans, and we’ll place you under the protection of the Order. Once you’re so marked, no one can touch you without fear of immediate death.”
Wolverine blurted out, “They don’t care. They would consider it an honor to die for their cause. Please, Mister Derrick, they’ll do horrific things to me. Can we not go to the safe house now? Let’s shift there, and I promise I’ll tell all.”
Resting a gentle hand on the frightened girl’s shoulder, Derrick stated, “This room is warded. No one can hear what’s said, no one can come in, nor can they work an attachment to draw you once the door is opened. You’re safe, dear, now please, for Goddess’ sake, talk.”
Wolverine sat, head down in deep thought for a moment. Then, looking up into their faces, she began. At first, her voice was barely a shaky whisper, but as she told what she knew, the anger at all the lies they’d told her began rising to the surface.
Soon her words became firm and true. “They’ve learned of a way to take the virus, which was caused by incorrect use of the cleansing process, and make it into a weapon. They somehow made it into a mist-like spray, and they intend to release canisters of it into the air ducts after everyone is in the ballroom. I don’t know how or when they’re going to place them, but—”
Derrick sprang to his feet. “By all the gods, they’re doing it now. I let the bastards in myself. They’re dressed like AC workers claiming to be checking the filtration system. Laya, I must go. Here’s the key to the safe house. I’ve left a surprise there for you and Wolverine.”
“Derrick!” Laya snapped. “You’re not going without me. I shall put Wolverine into the safe house and return.”
“No!” Wolverine took the key from Derrick’s outstretched hand and thrust it into the hidden pocket buried in the folds of her mistress’ robe. “You must follow through with whatever you had in mind. If you need it to be public but you don’t want to do it in the ballroom for fear of exposure, do it here in front of the private entrance of the compound. There are always reporters lurking nearby in hopes of a picture of one of you. Please, don’t vary from your plan.”
Laya cursed. “What is it with this fracking witches’ ball anyhow? Three years running I have missed the thing. Next year, so help me if it gets ruined, heads are going to roll, and I mean it! Now, Wolverine has a point. They will expect something at the ball, but they won’t be expecting anything as we’re on our way.”
Derrick stood in quiet contemplation for a moment. “Okay. Not a bad plan. You two are good at this. I’m not sure I’d want you working against me.”
Feeling overly energetic because of the healing, Wolverine laughed out loud, “Well then, Mister Derrick, maybe you don’t want to try.”
Laya reached over and placed a firm hand on her charge’s arm. “All right, girl, you’ve made your point. Don’t push it. Mister Derrick and I are not in the mood for snark this evening.”
“Yes, Miss.” Wolverine said in a contrite voice, but Derrick noted the young lady didn’t drop her eyes.
“Wolverine, you’re going to be a formidable asset to have on our side, but you must learn when and where you may assert your authority. Currently, you have none.”
“Yes sir, Mister Derrick.” Wolverine quickly lowered her eyes.
“Good girl.” Derrick smiled slightly, one fang point peeping over his bottom lip. “Laya speaks the truth when she says we love you. I, Derrick Gibbous, your legally assigned guardian and commander of the Order of the Night, decree that you, Wolverine Castell, niece of recently killed Randall Jennings, son of Clive Jennings, of the Order of the Night, are under immediate protection.”
Laya paused in thought, then said, “Derrick, leave us. We will only slow you down. We’ll meet you at the entrance as planned.”
“Laya—”
“Derrick, we don’t have time to argue. We’re sticking with the plan, end of subject. Now get rid of those cursed canisters. I’m still suffering from the effects of the original virus thanks to Jack biting me while contaminated. I don’t even want to think of what alterations may have been made. Go!”
When Derrick had shifted from the room, Laya turned to Wolverine, who was standing with her face in the setting sun, taking deep, calming breaths of the fall air flowing through the window.
“Wolverine, now comes the time when you must trust and obey me without fail. If you do anything other than what I instruct, you could get us killed. We have prearranged signals, and if you do as you’re told, all should go according to plan.”
“Should?” Wolverine asked, her voice betraying the tranquil expression overtaking her face.
“Yes. When you implement your plan, things are most always bound to change.”
With that, Laya turned to King and commanded, “King, forward.”
“Miss, what do you want of me? I will do anything you ask. Please? Explain.”
“Follow me. Go along with me, no matter what I say. Be ready to play your role.”
Stepping out into the coming night, Laya and King moved swiftly down the ramp onto the main walkway. Then, whirling around, she snarled, “You mutt! How could I have ever loved you? Guards! Take this mutt into custody! She is of the Clear Blood Clan!”
Suddenly, Wolverine stood to her full five feet and shouted, “No! You’ll not take me alive! You, you witch! You speak of betrayal when you’re the one responsible for Randall Jennings’ death! You’re the one who will go into custody! Servants of the Clear Bloods, take her!”
The four guards surged forward, but as their hands touched Laya, she raised her right hand and, in a voice Wolverine had never heard, hissed, “In the name of Morrigan, I decree your treachery revealed! Your death is the cost. You have betrayed the Order of the Night and the Blended Lives Planetary Federation!”
As she spoke, she began weaving flows of air, and soon all the guards were bound. They fell one by one to the ground, dead.
“Wolverine,” a hushed voice to Wolverine’s left called. Wolverine turned from the scene and was shocked to see Raymond standing in the opening of a portal.
“Wolverine. To me, now.”
Before Trina and Laya’s other secret guard could see, Wolverine hurried through the portal to Raymond’s side.
Raymond looked down into Wolverine’s emerald eyes. “You’re becoming too entangled in all this. Finish it and come home to me. You’re confused and frightened, moved about by everyone like a pawn on a chessboard. Just come to me, Wolverine.”
Wolverine went into the circle of his arms, allowing her body to rest against his lean-muscled frame. “Raymond, she’s my mistress. She’s not what everyone proclaims. Please? Listen.”
“No.” Raymond pulled away. “You must choose, me or them. Soon I’ll receive a raise in rank. I’ve made my choice.”
Wolverine opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter so much as a syllable, Raymond vanished, leaving her with only his sweet, spicy scent behind.
Once the guards were dealt with, thinking she heard a voice behind her, Laya turned to speak to Wolverine. Too late, Laya saw a portal flash open and close, then Wolverine was gone. Taking a deep breath and whispering a prayer, Laya reached into her pocket, pulled out the key to the safe house, and shifted.
When she and King stepped into the safe house, there was no sound. Walking noiselessly down the main hallway, her mind on full alert, she began moving from room to room, searching for whomever had called her.
“Laya!” a voice whispered. “Come upstairs, come and see me.” With the large genetically enhanced Lab Cross, King, who was also on high alert leading the way, his sensory perceptions coming to Laya at a quick clip, she began climbing the stairs leading to the second floor. As she stepped into the upstairs hallway, a door to her right opened. Before she or King could react, a large, slightly cool hand grasped her by her upper arm and pulled her and King into the room.
Turning quickly to meet her captor, Laya thudded into the large vampire standing in the middle of the floor. For a moment, she stood in silent shock.
Then, on a soft breath of awe, she asked, “How is this possible?”
With a firm yet calming grip, the vampire took her hands into his own. “Death was never meant for me. I have died and been reborn many times over the last five hundred years. I received a potion centuries ago and now, my life, for good or ill, is never-ending.”
“But such practices are outlawed.”
“They weren’t when this took place. Laya, as much as I’d like to explain all this to you, we must stop the Clear Bloods at any cost.”
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Wolverine ran into the room. Catching sight of who held her mistress’ hands, she sucked in a gasp and screamed, “Oh! Uncky! Oh, My Gods! Uncky! How can this be?”
She flung herself at the huge vampire. Dropping one of Randall’s hands, Laya tried to catch her as she flew past but quick as she was, when her hand gripped the girl’s shoulder, Wolverine’s momentum flung them both into Randall Jennings’ arms.
“Hush, be still.” Randall said gently. Holding them both close for a moment, Randall drew deep breaths of their scent. “I can’t imagine the shock you feel. Laya, I can read you. Yes, it’s me. You know how to tell, don’t you, Wolverine?”
“Yes,” the frightened girl answered.
“Then let’s get that out of the way.” He held out his arm.
Remembering her mistress’ words, she took the arm in both hands, opened a vein, and drank. Stepping back a moment later, her uncle’s blood dripping from her lips, she whispered, “Uncky, it is you! But how?”
Randall gently embraced his niece again, stroking her hair. “When all is over, we’ll sit and talk. I will explain things to you. Now, however, we’ve an especially important task to perform. You must put all other concerns aside and focus on nothing else. Over the years, I’ve taught you well. Now, it is time for you to put away childish things and show me the grown-up lady you have become.”
“Wolverine,” Laya called. “As I said earlier, Randall Jennings is one of the most powerful vampires ever to walk in the worlds. You’re his direct descendant by live birth, which means you, too, are powerful. Tonight will be your first test of womanhood. You must do as we ask without question or pause. Do you understand?”
“But I’m a mutt.” Wolverine protested.
Laya reached out, turning the girl to face her as she spoke. “Wolverine Castell. You are of mixed race. This is true. But you must trust me and your uncle when we tell you of your power. Remember what I told you earlier today when I punished you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Repeat it.”
“You said I must obey you in every way. You said if I didn’t, you’d punish me again.”
“That’s correct. That part, young lady, was no ruse. I meant it. I’m your High Priestess, your mistress and mentor. Even with the return of Randall Jennings, that has not changed. You will obey without question. This means you do as you’re told whether you believe and understand or not. This is the last time we’ll have this conversation. Are we quite clear?”
Randall cleared his throat. “Seems we have much to discuss later. For now, we must play our parts.”
With that, he leaned forward, kissed first Laya, then Wolverine, and with the flip of his fingers, was gone.
The twinkle of magick shimmered in the air as Laya allowed King to lead her into the beautifully decorated ballroom, with Derrick and Wolverine close behind. The fragrance of delectable dishes, as well as many perfumed beings, flowed upon gentle breezes, and for a moment they were caught up in the warm glow of celebrations.
Stopping inside the door, waiting to be announced, Laya turned slightly, asking, “Are you ready?”
But before Derrick or Wolverine could answer, a horn sounded and a booming voice declared, “I give you High Priestess of Korponious, Lady Laya MoonWalker!”
Laya raised her hand and motioned King forward, stepping into the room. But as the applause thundered, an alarm sounded. Before anyone could move, an enormous explosion ripped through the night, and a green fog enveloped them all.
***
Sundown One Day Later
The couple stood in the bloody glow of the sun as it sat on Casimian Proper.
“What will happen if they don’t follow?” Her voice shook as she found the courage at last to speak about what they both feared.
“They’ll come,” he assured her, stroking a wayward curl behind her ear and placing his lips softly on her cheek.
“How can you be certain?”
“I must be certain. For if I am not certain, then who else?”
Moments later, as they stood in a tight embrace, kissing fervently under the darkening sky, a snow-white owl perched in a nearby tree called his first hello to the coming night, and a large wolf stood silent inside the brush, her pack surrounding her on three sides.
Releasing each other and taking a firm step back, the woman decreed, “There is no part of my life which does not belong to the Goddess. There is no part of my body which does not belong to the Goddess. I am She.”
Joining her, he said, “And she is me.” Their voices melted together like liquid gold. “We are one, yet we are we. As we will it. Blessid Be.
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Updated November 2024
Patty L. Fletcher is a woman of passion and exploration.
She studies the art of manifestation and is a seeker of knowledge and the wisdom to know what to do with it when it’s learned.
To learn more visit: https://pattysworlds.com/