Wolf Ascended (Curse of the Alpha Book 7), page 1
Wolf Ascended
D.N. LEO
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
READER REWARDS
ALSO BY D.N. LEO
Afterword
Chapter
One
Ciaran LeBlanc stood awestruck in the midst of the amalgamation of ancient cultures surrounding him.
Towering pillars etched with Babylonian cuneiform stretched upwards, meeting a ceiling woven with intricate Celtic knots that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. The walls bore hieroglyphs that could have been the pride of any Egyptian temple, depicting deities in acts of creation and judgment.
He blinked against the surreal light that flooded the grand chamber, his mind still grappling with the disorienting journey that had brought him here.
Instinctively, he began an inventory check of himself, ensuring he was indeed in one piece.
His fingers ran over the fabric of his suit – still immaculate – and he flexed his arms and legs, relieved to find everything as it should be.
He didn't expect that he would blend well wearing a business suit in this environment.
The beings that populated the hall were as varied and majestic as the decor. Some bore the regal aura of Babylonian gods, adorned in robes rich with golden threads, their eyes shining with the wisdom of ages. Others had the ethereal grace of Celtic deities, their presence as soothing as a forest breeze yet as commanding as a storm.
Among them moved figures with the stately poise of Egyptian gods, their gaze piercing, leaving Ciaran feeling as if his very soul was being appraised.
These god-like creatures acknowledged Ciaran with subtle nods and enigmatic smiles as they passed by.
Each acknowledgment sent a ripple of recognition through him – a feeling that he was an anomaly in this divine gathering, yet not entirely out of place.
It was like walking through a living museum, each deity a perfect representation of their respective mythologies.
One minute, he was in the backyard of a sanctuary outside Melbourne. And now? He tried to recall how exactly he got here, but nothing came to mind.
Ciaran moved to a quieter corner of the hall.
He cautiously brought up the holographic screen of his wristwatch, opened a program he called SNOOP.
With lightning-fast fingers, he punched in his first request:
CIRAN: Where the heck am I?
The screen blinked a few times before spitting out the answer,
SNOOP: Current location: Unknown.
Reminder: You have a meeting with the board soon, so stop messing around.
"Well, thank you SNOOP," Ciaran muttered. "I'll be sure to get you a gift to show my overwhelming appreciation for your assistance."
SNOOP responded in a monotone voice, "Based on your tone, I can sense sarcasm. I apologize if my response was not satisfactory, but please remember that I can only operate within the limits of my programming. And as a reminder: you are the programmer. Please take note to enhance my intelligence in future updates."
Ciaran exhaled a soft chuckle despite the gravity of his situation.
***
As he passed a particularly intricate mural depicting a cosmic battle, a figure detached itself from a group of ethereal beings.
Tall and imposing, the deity moved towards Ciaran with a fluid grace that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Clad in robes that shimmered like the night sky, the figure stopped before Ciaran, an enigmatic smile playing on its lips.
"Lost, or perhaps, misplaced?" the deity inquired, its voice a harmonious blend of thunder and whisper.
Ciaran offered a polite smile, masking his apprehension with the veneer of confidence he wore so well. "One could say that. It’s not every day one finds himself in... well, I’m still trying to work that out."
The deity chuckled, a sound like the gentle rustle of leaves.
"You stand in the High Court of the Gods, a realm that transcends your earthly boundaries. But I'm curious, what brings a mortal like you to our conclave?"
Ciaran’s mind raced.
So, this was the High Court of the Gods.
"I was hoping you could enlighten me on that," he replied, keeping his tone light.
The deity studied him for a moment, its eyes like deep pools of ancient wisdom. "Many are called here for judgment or counsel, yet you, Ciaran LeBlanc, seem to be an anomaly."
A flash of surprise crossed Ciaran's face before he could conceal it.
This deity knew his name.
He recovered quickly, maintaining his composed demeanor. "Anomaly? I suppose my invitation got lost in the mail," he quipped, buying time to think.
The deity’s smile widened, amused. "Your presence here is no accident. But fear not, Ciaran. You are not on trial. Your...unique lineage has piqued our interest."
Ciaran's heart skipped a beat.
They knew about his lineage?
He filed that piece of information away, his brain already working on the implications. "My lineage? Now, that's a topic even I know little about. Perhaps you could fill in the blanks?"
"You'll find the answers you seek in due time," the deity replied cryptically. "For now, observe and learn. The court is a place of wisdom and revelation."
Ciaran nodded, his mind abuzz with questions. This encounter had revealed little yet confirmed much. He was here for a reason, something tied to his mysterious heritage. And in the High Court of the Gods, he suspected that reason was of cosmic significance.
"Thank you for the... warm welcome," Ciaran said, offering a respectful nod.
As the deity glided away, he couldn’t help but feel like a pawn in a game with stakes higher than he could fathom.
Turning away, Ciaran's gaze swept over the assembly once more. 'Observe and learn,' he thought. 'Well, that's always been my specialty. Time to see what the gods have in store for me.'
As Ciaran contemplated his conversation with the first deity, another figure approached him, this one exuding an air of nobility that was distinct even in this divine assembly. The newcomer was tall and stately, with a commanding presence that seemed to naturally demand respect. His attire was a blend of ancient regality and timeless elegance, and his eyes held the depth of centuries.
"Greetings," the figure began, his voice rich and resonant. "I am Lord Elarian. It's rare to see one so... human in court."
Ciaran turned to face him, masking his growing unease with a practiced smile. "Lord Elarian, a pleasure. As for my human appearance, I'm afraid I don't have much choice in the matter."
Elarian’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity passing over his features. "Indeed. Yet, you carry a name that echoes through the annals of our history. Alexandre...," he said, trailing off suddenly, his expression shifting to one of caution as if he had spoken a forbidden word.
The mention of the name 'Alexandre' struck a chord in Ciaran.
He remembered the accusations hurled at him just before being swept away into this realm, accusations involving lies about Alexandre.
His heart rate quickened, a cold sweat forming at the back of his neck.
"Alexandre?" Ciaran echoed, feigning ignorance while his mind raced. "I can't say the name rings any bells."
Lord Elarian studied him for a moment, his gaze penetrating. "Perhaps. But your arrival here is no mere coincidence. There are threads of fate at play, ones that you may find... entangling."
Ciaran's pulse throbbed in his ears.
"Entangling, you say? Well, I've always had a knack for unraveling complicated situations," Ciaran replied with a calm he didn't feel.
Elarian's expression softened slightly, a hint of respect flickering in his eyes. "Your courage is commendable. But be wary, Ciaran LeBlanc. The tapestry of fate is woven by many hands, and not all threads lead to pleasant outcomes."
With that cryptic warning, Lord Elarian nodded and retreated back into the congregation of deities.
Ciaran watched him go, his mind abuzz with questions and theories.
As the congregation of deities mingled and conversed in hushed, reverent tones, a new figure approached Ciaran.
Her movements were a manifestation of divine power, each step gliding with grace and purpose. In her presence, the grandeur of the surrounding environment seemed insignificant. Beauty radiated from her not just in her physical appearance, which was ethereally stunning, but in the aura of serenity that surrounded her.
"Mr. LeBlanc," she began, her voice like a gentle whisper on the wind, "It is an honor to finally meet you. My name is Eolande. I understand this may all be overwhelming for you."
Ciaran turned to face her, immediately feeling a sense of calm wash over him. "Overwhelming doesn't even begin to describe it," he responded with a small smile. "But your arrival offers a much-needed reprieve."
Eolande's eyes held a glimmer of knowing as she spoke. "I am here as a friend, Mr. LeBlanc. The High Court can be treacherous for those unfamiliar with its ways."
Ciaran's heart raced as he nodded, captivated by Eolande's words. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied.
But his mind was already racing with questions and doubts, unsure of who to trust in this unfamiliar place.
Eolande leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Remember, not everyone here has good intentions. And the truth is often cloaked in divine riddles."
Eolande placed a small stone in his palm, her eyes warning him of the gravity of the situation. "This will allow us to communicate discreetly should you need help," she said before fading away into the shadows.
But Ciaran's thoughts were interrupted by an intense energy that suddenly filled the room, drawing all attention to a raised platform at the center. His heart pounded as his eyes widened in shock at the figure who emerged, an aura of power emanating from every inch of their towering form. Danger was the only word that came to Ciaran's mind.
Ciaran's heart pounded in his chest as he stood frozen, trapped by the imposing guard's grip. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice.
He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him as he struggled against the guard's hold, panic rising within him.
"Let go of me," Ciaran demanded. But the guard only tightened their grip, their expression remaining stoic and unyielding.
"You will remain here, Mr. LeBlanc," they spoke coldly, their voice booming over the murmurs of the congregation. "The court is in session and your presence is required."
As if sensing his distress, Eolande appeared beside him once again, her presence calming and reassuring.
"Remember what I said," she whispered, her eyes filled with concern. "Be careful."
With a nod from Eolande and a final warning glance from Lord Elarian across the room, Ciaran resigned himself to stay and see what fate awaited him.
The imposing figure on the raised platform had taken center stage now, their intense energy filling every corner of the grand hall.
"Welcome one and all to this High Court session," they announced, their powerful voice echoing through the hall.
Ciaran's mind raced as he searched for an escape route, but found none.
He was trapped in a dangerous game with no way out.
Chapter
Two
In the lush backyard of the Kyneton pack sanctuary, Killian stood frozen, his eyes locked on the spot where Ciaran had vanished.
The siren, a spectral figure of haunting beauty, had appeared and disappeared like a whisper on the wind, leaving a palpable tension in the air.
Ivy stood by his side, her face a canvas of shock and determination. She reached into her bag and pulled out a weathered tarot deck, its edges frayed from years of use.
As she shuffled the cards, they seemed to come alive in her hands, each one moving with purpose and intent.
"Let's consult the cards," she said urgently, her voice tinged with urgency.
She swiftly flicked her wrist and drew a card from the deck, describing it aloud. It shouldn't surprise him anymore, but it still did. The tarot cards only responded to her touch, appearing as blank for others.
"The card shows a skeletal figure in a cloak, wielding a scythe, stood in a field of withered crops under a blood-red sky. It's the Reaper card. A harbinger of significant change, often associated with the end of something and the start of another. In the context of the current situation, it seemed to warn of a danger rooted in the past, a danger that threatened those we loved."
Killian peered at the card, his brows furrowing. "The Reaper... that doesn't bode well."
Ivy nodded, her eyes reflecting the seriousness of the card's message. "It's a warning. Something from the past, something we thought was long buried, is coming back. And it's not just Ciaran who's at risk."
Killian clenched his fists, feeling a surge of protectiveness. "We need to find out where that siren took him, and fast. The Reaper doesn't show up for small matters."
He paced back and forth, his mind racing through possibilities. The siren hadn't shown hostility, but its purpose was clear: Ciaran had been summoned for a reason, and whatever that reason was, it was significant enough to warrant a warning from the otherworldly tarot deck.
"Any ideas on how to track a siren?" Killian asked, turning back to Ivy.
Ivy shook her head, her gaze still on the card. "Sirens are elusive, but they're also bound by the rules of their summoners. If we can find out who sent it, we might have a lead."
Killian nodded, determination setting in. "Then that's what we'll do. We'll start with the supernatural network, see if anyone's heard anything about a siren activity."
"Can we ask the card of where exactly Ciaran was taken, Ivy?"
"I'm not sure. But I can try."
Ivy's fingers trembled slightly as she drew another card from her mystical deck.
Ivy lowered her voice. "It's depicted an ancient hourglass with sands that shimmered like stars, surrounded by portals leading to different eras and worlds. It's 'Time Weaver'. It could be interpreted as a symbol of time travel and dimensional shifts. So, we're talking time travel. Inter-worlds travel ..."
Killian's heart sank. Inter-world travel. That was beyond their usual realm of complications. "How are we supposed to track him across realms?"
Ivy hesitated, biting her lip. "We might need to call for help from... higher powers."
Killian's eyes narrowed. "Selene or Samuel?"
Ivy nodded. "Selene has her ways with the divine and the mystical, but Samuel... he's the demon king. He has access to knowledge we can't even fathom."
"I'm not sure about either of them. Not until we know exactly who or what we are dealing with."
Their conversation was cut short by an intense burst of energy as Damien and Nina rushed out from the house, followed by their furry entourage. Samba the elegant British Shorthair cat strutted confidently, while Pixy the curious husky puppy bounced around excitedly and Snuggleworth the playful cavoodle trotted behind.
But amidst the commotion, something was not right. Samba's typically calm demeanor was replaced with a sense of urgency as he hissed and dodged Ivy's attempts to catch him. Even his fellow pets sensed the tension in the air and joined in on the chaos.
"Wait, Nina!" Killian's shout fell on deaf ears as she disappeared into the thick trees.
Damien immediately wanted to follow Nina, but Ivy hesitated.
"What about Ciaran?" Killian shouted over the chaos.
"Ciaran? What happened to him? He just invested in the pack business!" Damien questioned, sensing the urgency in Killian's voice.
"He was captured...vanished into...something," Ivy struggled to find the words, gesturing frantically.
Damien shook his head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea where they could have taken him?"
"If we did, we wouldn't be standing here debating it!" Killian exclaimed.
"Then go after the cat," Damien concluded with a nod towards Samba. "Cats have spiritual connections, maybe he can lead us to where they've taken Ciaran."
Ivy nodded fervently. "Yes, that's not a normal behavior for Samba. He must sense something important."
As they chased after Samba, the portal loomed closer with each step.
Nina was the first to reach it, her hand outstretched as she tried to grab onto something solid. But as she made contact with the swirling energy, it seemed to suck her in.
"NO!" Damien and Ivy yelled simultaneously, racing towards the portal.
But before they could reach it, a loud thud sounded behind them. They turned around to see Killian lying on the ground, clutching his head in pain.
"Killian!" Ivy rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him. "What happened?"
"I-I don't know," he groaned, wincing in pain. "It's like...my mind was flooded with images and voices."
"Get Nina, Damien," Ivy shouted.
Ivy helped Killian sat up. "What did you see, Killian?"
Killian's explanation was a tangled web of memories and thoughts, swirling together in his mind. But one image stood out – a woman draped in a black cloak, wielding dark magic or perhaps juggling stones, it was hard to discern.
