Chapter 49: Belladonna

The wind called to her, moaning out a symphony that only she could decipher.

The trees whispered; their long, thin fingers ripping through the air that whisked away their dying leaves.

The sun roared, sending down rays of light so powerful, that, had the earth's natural magic been any weaker, it would've burned her to ashes.

She grinned, a cruel, wicked smile that lifted her chapped lips, lips that had been whispering dangerous, dangerous things moments prior.

Nails redder than blood itself, rapped lightly on the wood, summoning one of the pathetic beings that had, at one point or another, warmed her bed.

She was a Matron, the born leader of a coven fifty-six strong. She was the first Bruja to set foot on North American soil, and the first to establish a functioning, organized coven, in nearly a millennia.

So a little pack of mangy mutts didn't frighten her.

Not in one bit.

Especially since she had been expecting them for a long while now.

"What is of need, feminae?" One of her consorts whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke.

Belladonna smirked, her dark eyes nothing more than burning embers as the fire flickered and danced, its long, uncontrollable fingers ripping into the morning light.

Dark bodies danced and twirled around it, arms and legs and heads moving to a silent, deadly beat. The forms joined and separated in unison, braids of dark hair being draped over the shoulders of women beside them.

It was a ring of magic surrounding the flame, bodies glistening with sweat.

They had been dancing and drinking since midnight, and most participants hadn't paused a moment other than to retrieve another drink, or head into the privacy of the forest for a different kind of dance that called for a partner... sometimes multiple.

Belladonna usually drank herself to an unconscious state during the celebration, often opening her legs to any creature that had proved their worth in the past, or had convinced her that they were the best in bed.

But, sadly, they often were quite lacking... in all regards.

"Feminae?" The male asked once again, his hands starting to drift to her shoulders, preparing to remove the lacy black dress she had thrown on last night.

His movements were choppy, a term that humans often called, 'robotic'. She definitely liked bedding a reluctant male, especially one that was romantically committed to another, but an uninterested one was another story.

A story she never had time for.

Belladonna snarled, a sound emitting deep within her stomach as she swatted away his hands. The male retreated immediately, his body melting into the shadows with a heavy, relieved sigh.

The only reason he was here-- the only reason any of the consorts were here-- was because they ran the chance of becoming her chosen consort, a title that was the highest any Lesser Bruja could achieve without marrying into a Higher Bruja lineage... not that a Higher Bruja would stoop that low, anyway.

Belladonna crooked a long, red-nailed tipped finger, beckoning any consort that was brave enough to answer her call.

The atmosphere nearly shattered as an armful of wood was thrown into the roaring fire, a pathetic green-eyed Bruja standing before the fire, her petite form outlined in the revived body of the great flame, its reds and oranges and blues set raging.

The girl that had fed the fire turned, her jade green eyes sparkling in the morning light, eyes so familiar yet so different.

A wildness that refused to be tamed danced in them, a wildness that Belladonna and any Bruja that knew anything about their history, despised.

Hated.

Immediately, a female stepped forward, lowering her elegant face until it paused beside Belladonna's blood-red lips.

"Tell the other consorts to stay here," she purred. "do not let anyone leave, nor let anyone enter."

Questions immediately formed on the consort's lips, but as Belladonna's fingernails grazed the female's golden brown jaw, she swallowed with force, a slight tremble shaking her body.

Fear...

Oh, how good fear tasted on her tongue.

"Yes, feminae." The female gulped, her voice trembling with each graze of Belladonna's blood-red fingernails.

The Bruja that she could not remember a name too, bowed her head once, and then practically ripped herself away, disappearing into the line of consorts stretched out behind her throne of ivory.

Belladonna's smirk widened, her hands dropping down to her throne's armrests, her fingers curling over the skulls carved there, their jaws open in a permanent, silent scream.

She heaved herself up, the elegant black dress hugging each and every curve rippling with the movement.

The giant fire flared, its endless mouths eating up each and every morsel offered. The ring of Bruja's surrounding the fire spun, long braids of browns and blacks and blondes slicing through the air like leather whips. Their bodies were glistening with sweat, their legs and bare stomachs coated in a fine layer of dirt, but they still danced.

But the damned green-eyed Bruja was nowhere to be seen.

Good.

Tainted bloodlines were not allowed to participate in celebrations, regardless of who their family was.

Belladonna was nothing more than shadow and smoke as she rounded the large, ancient throne, her steps flawless and smooth.

The gait was confident, her bare feet gliding over the grass as smoothly as a mocassin through the water.

The cool morning air brushed against her bare back and chest, and she grinned.

They were no doubt here, their noses sniffing like the good little mutts they were.

Belladonna didn't even look over her shoulder as she strutted through the forest, her hips swaying with each graceful step.

With her head held high and a different kind of fire burning through her blood, the ancient Bruja let her magic guide her, let it control her as she became nothing more than ash and smoke.

She had slaughtered entire covens in a single night, she had defeated a Warlock king, wiping out his castle and everyone inside it in less than a day.

A little pack of scrawny mutts was nothing.

Wolves were hot-headed and driven by instincts... all she had to do was distract them long enough to produce a ball of blazing energy in the palm of her hand, and they'd be done for.

Perhaps, after she ended their pathetic lives, she would be able to send their charred remains back to their pack; and maybe, if enough flesh had been saved from her fiery wrath, she'd be able to send a limb to every pack that called themselves allies to the Southern Pack.

Belladonna held her smile as she broke through the trees, and stepped out onto a clearing that was straddled by a dozen wooden cabins.

Cabins that were built by her Brujas-- Brujas that were the strongest in all of the realms.

A shaggy grey wolf stalked out from behind a cabin, her dark brown eyes glowing so fiercely, that they were nothing more pools of amber. The female lifted her lip up at her, canines glistening with saliva.

"Once again," Belladonna drawled, her hand brushing her thick braid off her shoulder, "you have gifted me with your presence. I feel so special!"

The she-wolf flicked back her ears, her head lowered as she stalked closer.

Another wolf emerged from behind a cabin, this time, a large male with eery blue eyes. His dusty black hide rippled with power as he took her right side, his massive paws landing silently.

A male she had no problem recognizing.

Belladonna cocked her head. "The last time I had seen either of you, was when little Eli was dying. Tell me again, how was it that he died? I think my age is affecting my memory." She cackled.

The wolves snarled, the sound echoed by the ones closing in behind her.

Belladonna smirked, her magic clawing to escape, to take control. Her hands began to tingle as she directed the magic towards her palms.

"Oh! I think I remember now!" She raised her hands, a soft glow emitting from her palms. The Bruja's dark eyes danced as she stared at the snarling Alexandra. "Before you killed Alpha Joseph and Luna Clara, hadn't they contacted a rogue Bruja? Perhaps going by the name of Evanora?"

Alexandra snapped her jaws, a feral snarl ripping through her throat.

"I had known her when we were witchlings; Oh, good Lord, I remember how much she hated your kind-- she used to make little wolf figurines out of wood, and burn them on full moons. We lost contact once she had her bidding ceremony, and was transferred to a smaller coven off the coast of Maine. I wonder..." she mused. "how much did they have to pay her to kill your son? How old was he again? Three?... Four?"

She was completely surrounded now, and, any moment now, the alphas would give the command and they'd attack.

Belladonna's fingers moved, tracing invisible letters as if she were running her finger through sand.

She'd toy with them for a while before landing the finishing blow; she practically had all the time in the world.

"I cannot imagine how it must feel, to have already lost a child." Belladonna shook her head. "But you are losing another-- to a witch yet again!"

This time, a deep, rough snarl sounded, coming from a massive brown male with blazing eyes.

When Alexandra began to lift her tail, the fur along her shoulder blade rising, the Bruja bowed deeply, her hands now engulfed in a swirling, churning mass of light and darkness.

She wasn't the strongest Bruja in history for nothing.

"Consider this payment, for killing my friend." She hissed just as the wolves lunged.