Chapter 1: The Morning Star

"Are you kidding me? A Faerie?"

Mary shrugged, her blonde hair tickling her shoulders as they moved. She had recently cut most of it off, complaining that hunters didn't need long, pullable hair in the field. "All of the lore pretty much agrees on this point. Only a Faerie can track and hunt another Faerie. We have to summon a couple to help us out with this."

Sam flipped through the ancient tome, narrowing his hazel eyes at the Gaelic text as he translated the passages and scribbled notes with a digital pen on a tablet nearby. "Dean, she's right. And, if the Faerie we're hunting is as powerful as the signs indicate, two or three might be the best option. Noble ones only."

Dean, the oldest of the three Winchester boys, ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair and sighed. His jade green eyes snapped up as his youngest brother entered the room, a trio of dusty books in his arms that he gratefully surrendered to their father. John Winchester, his dark hair showing hints of gray, was the leader of the family of hunters, always keeping his wife and sons safe despite the dangers inherent in their jobs. He was an alpha, a big pack leader well known and rightly feared among the hunter community, and all of his sons had presented the same way.

"What are we summoning?"

"Faeries, apparently," Dean replied, taking one of the books from his dad as he flipped through it to find the section on dark Faeries. "Sam, this one isn't in Gaelic. I don't recognize these letters. Can you take a look?"

Sam, the tallest member of the Winchester pack, stood up and leaned over his brother's shoulder, eyes tracing the letters as he furrowed his brow. "I don't recognize it."

"Let me see, son." John grunted as he checked the page, closing the ancient tome carefully. "It looks like Enochian, the ancient language of the Faeries. When we summon one, it should be able to read this for us."

"Ok, how do we do that?"

Mary, who had become quite the expert in Faeries over the past few weeks, passed her book across the table and pointed at the spell painted in beautiful gold ink on the page. "It says here you have to bind it to a person, an unmated person. It's not specific about gender or subgender, just that you have to be compatible with the Faerie you're summoning. Also, you have to collar it as soon as it appears or it will fly away and wreak havoc. Presumably, the one we're hunting was summoned incorrectly and it escaped."

"How do we know what Faerie we're summoning?"

Sam shrugged, tapping the page. "It looks like you have to put out offerings that appeal to the one you want to bind, and if he likes them he will come to your call."

"And if he doesn't like them?"

"Uh, the Faerie will kill you."

"I'm not sure I like the implications of that," their youngest brother Adam murmured. "When you say that we have to bind the Faerie to a person, does that mean that we can each only bind one? Is it dangerous?"

"Who said you're summoning one? Adam, you're only eighteen."

"I've been hunting for almost four years now, Dean. Certainly I can handle collaring a Faerie."

Mary cleared her throat and tapped the book on the table in front of Sam. "It says here that you can only summon a Faerie in a place he frequents. Generally Faeries are everywhere, invisible to us and moving in and out of our plane of existence, but the most powerful ones aren't going to be found in the forest and common places. We need to find a place of power, a magical nexus, where the noble Faeries can be found."

"And how are we going to do that?" Dean glared at his youngest brother out of the side of his eye, hinting that the conversation was far from over despite their mother's interruption.

"We'll have to ask an expert," John drawled, grinning as Sam's head snapped up. "Yep."

"Dad, not Crowley, please. That guy gives me the creeps."

John shrugged and closed the book he had been skimming. "He knows more about witches and their powers than any other hunter, and he has always been a great resource for us. He saved us from those hellhounds a few years ago, remember?"

Dean sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Dad, he knows so much about witches because his mom is one. I don't entirely trust her."

"Rowena has never caused us any trouble, and all of the witches in her coven are natural-born so they don't derive their power from demons. Crowley may not know how to track noble Faeries, but he will take us to his mother if he doesn't. Dean, you know that it's the best plan."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," the younger hunter grumbled.

Crowley, as it turned out, was well aware of their problem. He was a powerful alpha, in charge of his own pack in D.C. that covered parts of Delaware, Maryland, and northern Virginia. He was busy, incredibly unpleasant to his enemies, but exceptionally loyal to his friends. Dean was moderately surprised when he was able to get an appointment so quickly, scheduled three days after they decided that they would have to summon Faeries. He packed Sam and an over-eager Adam into his beloved '67 Impala, a gift from his father when he graduated college, and headed east, the address for one of the dozens of hotels Crowley owned in Arlington programmed into his brother's obnoxiously positive-sounding GPS.

When they reached the hotel, a modest three-star joint that was still far and above any motel he stayed in when the family was hunting, Dean was surprised to find Crowley's new Manager of Purchasing waiting for them. Garth Fitzgerald IV, an overly optimistic and extremely skinny six-foot brunet alpha who couldn't hurt a fly, jumped into Sam's arms and greeted the younger alpha effusively, his scent too sweet but incredibly him.

"Sam! Dean! Adam! When Crowley said you were coming for a meeting I couldn't believe it! And here you are!"

"Yeah, yeah, calm down man. It's good to see you, too." Dean allowed Garth to pull him into a quick hug, the other hunter's blue eyes bright with joyous tears. Garth never did anything by halves, and he was one of the most loved and most respected hunters in the business. He had once been a dentist, before his first run-in with the supernatural, but his prowess in tracking and curing werewolves was legendary. No one knew how he did it, but the man could turn any bitten wolf back into a human, through some weird serum he and Crowley had created together, and he was on good terms with most of the born-wolf packs across the country, saving hundreds of hunter lives with a truce he had forged three years earlier.

"I didn't know you were back working for Crowley again," Adam offered, piling their bags on a nearby cart as Garth offered him a repeat of the hug his brothers received. "Last I heard, you were out west forging a treaty between Asa Fox's pack and the local werewolf family."

"I was," Garth confirmed, grabbing the cart and heading for the elevators. "I, uh . . . I may have met their oldest daughter and fallen in love." He pulled the collar of his shirt down, revealing a new, and very red mating mark, the teeth impressions oddly shaped but healing nicely. "Bess and I mated just a few days ago."

"Congrats, man!" Sam reached out and patted Garth on the shoulder. "How does that work, a human and a werewolf?"

"Well, as you can see, she's got a bit more teeth than the normal lass, but she's sweet and loving and I'm so happy to have her. We were on our honeymoon when Crowley called me and offered me a new position as Purchasing Manager, which I'll start full-time at the beginning of the month. As soon as I heard about your business with these Faeries, I offered to work part-time to help get this all cleared up."

"Why did he call you back? You need to be with your new mate for at least a month, and the bonding during the first week is incredibly important."

Garth blushed and looked away, biting his bottom lip as his scent paled with embarrassment. "She's here. Crowley gave us the honeymoon suite, and he only allows me to work for three hours at a time before I am required to spend three hours with her. He's been so great, and so understanding about my situation." The elevator reached their floor and Garth led them to a trio of doors at the end of the hall, passing over three key cards.

"We each get our own room?"

"Of course. Crowley thought you might be more comfortable that way. I'll be here at seven to meet you and take you down to breakfast, then the car will arrive at eight-thirty for your nine o'clock appointment. See you guys then!" Garth scampered off, heading back to the elevator and his new mate, Sam grinning as the alpha vanished.

"He's so adorable."

Dean grunted and swiped the card for his room, pleasantly surprised that he didn't have to share with one or both of his brothers. "Sam, find us somewhere close by for supper; we'll meet in the lobby in three hours. I'm gonna try to get a nap in the meantime." When John was around, Dean was his dutiful second-in-command, but when the boys were alone it was always clear which alpha was undeniably In Charge. Sam nodded in acceptance of the request, finding his own room and vanishing inside, Adam disappearing into his a moment later.

MacLeod Industries was a huge, multinational corporation with headquarters in sixteen states and four countries, and their main headquarters in D.C. rivaled all other locations in size and opulence. Crowley enjoyed flaunting his power, and it helped that his mother was a powerful witch who was well over three hundred years old, having spent most of that time gaining wealth to protect herself from human hunters. Now that she and her coven, some of whom were older than her, had forged a solid treaty with the hunters, Crowley was all too happy to use his wealth and power to help rid the country of monsters.

Dean, wearing a surprisingly well-tailored gray suit and dark green tie that complemented his dark jade eyes, waited patiently in the lobby of MacLeod Industries, his brothers just as quiet by his side. Sam had chosen a darker suit in slate, his tie striped green and blue while Adam was dressed in black with a dark red tie. They looked every bit the three young but powerful alphas of the Winchester clan they represented, their scents calm and patient as Crowley's employees flitted through the lobby around them, none of them brave enough to meet the alphas' eyes.

Crowley's Executive Assistant, a dark-haired woman named Meg, cleared her throat, dark eyes meeting Dean's green across the room. The beta walked around her desk and approached the three alphas, no deference in her stance or scent. Dean always appreciated that Crowley would not allow subgender discrimination among his employees, so omegas and betas held many positions of power throughout the organization and they never bowed to alphas who did not earn their respect. "He will see you now."

"Thank you, Meg," Dean replied smoothly, his carefully-shined dress shoes tapping on the floor as he followed the petite woman through a short hallway and a pair of expensive mahogany double doors into a lavishly-appointed office where a dark-haired alpha lounged uncaringly in a throne-like chair behind an overly large desk. They were on the fourth floor of the huge building and the windows that took up the entire left side of the room looked toward downtown D.C. and the various landmarks Dean was familiar with there. It was certainly more impressive than the ancient, long-abandoned Men of Letters bunker that the Winchester pack had recently taken over and made their home.

"Moose! Squirrel! So good to see you," Crowley greeted, rising from his chair and gesturing toward the three chairs arranged in front of his desk. "And you brought your youngest brother, as well, it seems. Adam, correct?"

"Y-yes, sir," Adam replied, reached out to take the proffered hand and shaking it quickly.

"Good to see you, Boris," Dean grinned, always caught between amusement and annoyance at the older alpha's fondness for nicknames. "Where's Natasha?"

Meg chuckled at that before slipping out of the room, closing the doors behind her to offer the four alphas privacy. "Mother is doing well, Dean, thank you for asking. She is dating a new millionaire and is currently living in San Diego. She seems happy."

"Is this one going to come to as unfortunate an end as the last one?" Crowley's omega mother had a penchant for dating wealthy men across the world, some of whom did not survive the encounter. The hunters had investigated each incident, but all of the unnatural deaths had been scumbags or demonic collaborators that had deserved to be taken out, including three rapists and a vampire. Rowena was hunting in her own way, but the Winchesters still kept an eye on her.

"No, this one is perfectly human and knows nothing of the supernatural. As a matter of fact, Mother quite likes him and he is interested in a rather lucrative deal with my company. I'll introduce you to him if the deal goes through." Crowley took his seat and leaned back, eyes flicking between the three alphas before settling on Dean. "Faeries, huh?"

"Look, Dad said you're the best person to help us with this. I don't know if you really believe in them, but—"

Crowley scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm Scottish, you dimwit; of course I believe in Faeries. I've even met my fair share in the past few years, but they are not beings you want to deal with. You better have a damn good reason."

"There's a dark Faerie loose somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, and it has killed dozens of people so far. We also think it started a series of wildfires in northern California and a mudslide in southern Oregon."

Crowley reached up and rubbed his chin, the stubble of a day-old beard rasping against his fingers. His wood smoke and pepper scent was calm and controlled, not giving away any of his thoughts, but Dean was certain that the presence of a wild Faerie would concern the older alpha. "I have heard about those incidents, but I didn't consider that magic could be behind them."

"Dad thinks that this Faerie is one of the most powerful ones, a noble or a High Prince. He says that we need two or three of our own in order to fight him."

There was a slight tremor in Crowley's scent at that, though the man's expression did not change. Dean sensed Sam tense beside him, the tallest Winchester detecting the slight change in their host's emotions. "It's not easy or safe to summon a common Faerie, Dean, and this is far beyond that. You need to discover the name of the Faerie that got loose."

The doors to Crowley's office swung open at his words, a petite and incredibly beautiful green-eyed redheaded omega strolling in, her sparkling purple dress swirling around her heeled feet. "Fergus! We have a problem."

"Mother, I am in a meeting," Crowley replied, standing to greet the woman as she grabbed one of the chairs along the back wall and pulled it behind his desk. The three Winchesters watched in amusement as the tiny woman took over the meeting, waving a greeting to them before turning her attention back to her son. Meg, who had clearly failed to stop Rowena from entering, closed the doors behind her and left the group in peace.

"This is more important, Fergus." Rowena was the only person who still called Crowley by his birth name and not the name he had adopted in order to run his company. He hated it, and the spike of peppers in his scent, underlain with a new, strange chamomile aroma indicated his discomfort. "There is a Faerie loose in northern California."

"That's actually what we are here to discuss," Dean replied, taking command of the meeting as the omega turned to face him.

Rowena smiled as she leaned across the table, her eyes almost glowing under the heavy purple eyeshadow that shimmered from each lid. "Ooh, aren't you a pretty one. You much be John's son, Dean. I hadn't heard that you were so scrumptious." Her voice, heavy with the Scottish brogue of her homeland, was soft and sultry, and Dean could suddenly see why so many men fell in love with this witch.

"Um, yeah, that's me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

"Please, call me Rowena! 'Ma'am' makes me feel old." Crowley rolled his eyes at that, not bothering to point out that three hundred years was old by any human measurement, but she ignored the action. "You know about that rogue Faerie?"

"Yeah, we've been tracking it." Sam reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a map, spreading it out on the table and pointing to the marks on the West Coast that had been attributed to the creature they were hunting. "We think someone summoned it in the area, didn't realize how powerful a creature they had found, and lost control of it."

"Where is the person who summoned it?"

"Dead," Crowley answered flatly, staring at the map. "If you summon a Faerie and fail to collar it properly, it will kill you. This kind of magic is very dangerous."

Rowena leaned closer to the map, her nose twitching as she caught the new notes in her son's aroma. "Fergus, is there something you want to tell me?"

The alpha actually blushed at that, rubbing the back of his neck as he pushed away from the table. Silently, Crowley headed for a door in the back of his office, one that Dean would have assumed to be a closet, but when he opened it the alpha could see a small suite behind it. Did the alpha live here, or did he just want to have somewhere comfortable to sleep when he worked late? A soft voice called out to the alpha, followed quickly by a lean blonde who was probably one or two inches taller than Crowley, dressed only in soft flannel pants and a shirt with a gray V-neck so deep that his entire chest was visible. That, and the angry red bite on his shoulder at the base of his neck.

"You've taken a mate?"

"Yes, Mother," Crowley replied, wrapping his arm carefully around the omega's waist. The man, his pale blue eyes taking in the guests before returning to his alpha, whispered something, glancing back at the room behind him. At least that explained the faint chamomile thread in Crowley's scent; the newly mated tended to take on characteristics of their partner's natural aroma. "This is my new mate, Balthazar. I intended to introduce you as soon as you returned from California."

"Well, I have returned. Let me have a look at the boy." Rowena joined her son in the back of the room, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek, fingers resting on cheekbones that seemed just a bit too well defined, even as his eyes were just a bit too bright. There was something almost ethereal about the omega that screamed supernatural, but he smelled human enough, his rosemary and lemony mint scent leaving a red pepper aftertaste on Dean's tongue.

Crowley rested his hand on Balthazar's lower back, watching his mother's eyes for any indication of her thoughts. He clearly desired her approval, reaching up to rub his own neck where the collar of his dark gray dress shirt covered his own new mating bite. "Mother?"

Rowena smiled at the omega, patting his cheek before stepping away. "So, that's your story, youngling? How are you enjoying your new life?"

Balthazar grinned, puffing out his chest confidently. "Gotta say, I'm certainly loving the sex." His voice was tightly controlled and mildly accented, though Dean didn't recognize the origin. Perhaps British or French, with a touch of Scottish? There was something odd about the way he moved, something stilted but fluid at the same time. Who was this omega?

Rowena grinned and returned to her seat, watching her new son-in-law carefully. "Hmm, I am quite fond of that activity myself. When did you two mate?"

"Three days ago," Balthazar replied, reaching up to touch his raised bite mark, a touch of wonder in his voice. Mating a high-profile bachelor like Crowley was certainly something to be proud of, but the omega's reactions were far beyond what Dean would expect. "It was kind of sudden. We haven't had a chance to go home yet; we've been staying here so Crowley can spend time with me between meetings."

"Yes, nurturing the bond at this stage is very important," Rowena agreed. "Fergus, you could have taken some time off to be with your omega. Your executives would understand."

"And I plan to, as soon as I wrap up a few loose ends. I was going to speak to you when you returned and see if you would assist Don and Maggie while I am gone."

"Of course."

Crowley pointed at the map on the table, pulling his mate against his side. "Zar, there's a dark Faerie wreaking some havoc on the West Coast. I was hoping you could help identify him."

Balthazar sighed and dropped his head on Crowley's shoulder, kissing the juncture of the alpha's neck where his shirt hid his mating bite. "Yeah, alright. I guess that is my area of expertise."

"Do you want to change your clothes?"

The omega tugged at the hem of his shirt and shrugged. "Why? You'll have me bent over your desk as soon as they're gone, and I'd rather be in pants that are easy to remove."

Adam blushed at that, Sam clearing his throat and looking away. Crowley grinned at their obvious discomfort, returning to his chair and tucking Balthazar in beside him. The throne-like chair was large enough for both men to occupy comfortably, and the omega cuddled against his mate's side before pulling the map closer and examining it. "They don't know what Faerie is causing these issues, but we really must make a positive identity before I can help them decide which Faeries they need to summon to fight him."

"Crowley, summoning Faeries is dangerous. You, of all people, know that."

The alpha shrugged. "Well, maybe we can do it another way. Let's just focus on his identity for now, alright?"

That seemed to calm the omega somewhat, and he relaxed in the chair. "Alright, what signs have been noted?"

"Fires, mudslide, and a number of killings," Sam answered easily.

"Any earthquakes or sudden electrical grid overloads?"

"Uh, no, none that we've seen. Actually, the area has been overly seismically silent in the past few weeks, not even a tremor."

Balthazar's face paled somewhat as he absorbed the news. "Damn."

Sam tilted his head. "Lack of earthquakes is a bad sign?"

"Yeah, so is the lack of electrical interruptions. How were the people killed?"

Adam reached into his pocket, pulling out a small tablet and thumbing to one of the many reports he had downloaded before they left Kansas. "Every report is basically the same, mutilation and dismemberment, and local law enforcement has ruled each one an animal attack, despite the lack of any evidence to that effect. The bodies do have claw marks, but they are small, razor-sharp, and the tears are completely unlike the attacks of bears, wolves, or cougars."

"Teeth marks? Human or otherwise?"

Adam consulted his notes, shaking his head. "No, not always."

Balthazar sat up straighter, tapping his finger on the desk. "What are the ages, genders, and subgenders of the victims that have bite marks?"

"Uh, males and females, though mostly the latter, all betas or omegas." Adam swiped through the reports, taking a tally in his head, Sam leaning over his shoulder to read the reports. "There were more bite marks and less mutilation in the beginning, now he just seems to tear his victims apart. Lately, he has been killing only alphas."

"That, at least, makes sense. Faeries crave companionship; denied the bond with his summoner, this one is trying to create his own connection and he is going mad doing it."

"So this Faerie is an alpha?"

"Yes. And powerful. All of the signs point toward one of the High Princes, and you're not going to like which one." Balthazar bit his lip and glanced away, leaning back in his mate's chair. "There are four of them, four Princes, each a powerful and dangerous warrior in his own right. The youngest one, an omega, has been summoned many times and always remained peaceful, often taking on the guise of pagan gods and granting boons to those who are kind to him. He is powerful, and the greatest magic user among Faerie kind, so he can get himself back to his realm if his summoner loses control of him."

"Not that one, then."

"No, certainly not. He delights in giving people their just desserts, but he wouldn't kill so many and so indiscriminately, and he would never dirty his own hands with human blood. His older brothers, though, are all vindictive and violent warriors, tasked with guarding the Faerie realms thought none of them are terribly magically gifted. If one of them were called here, they would immediately try to kill their summoner and escape, despite the fact that they can't return to their own realm without help. The third Prince, a beta, likes to announce his presence, using electricity and hurricane-like storms to flaunt his power. It's not him, either."

"Which leaves the oldest two brothers," Sam replied. "I'm guessing both are alphas."

"Yes. The oldest one, second-in-command to the King of the Faeries, has only been summoned twice, and there were earthquakes of apocalyptic proportions. He can't control that power, so the earth will always shake when he walks on this plane of existence. He also will not kill with his claws and he would never stoop so low as to bite a human. He prefers weapons like long swords and lances, so it really can't be him."

"That leaves the second son, correct?"

Balthazar nodded sadly. "Yes, and if he's lose you truly will need to summon three Faeries to help you. The second son fights with his hands, his claws, and his teeth. He is unstable and incredibly violent, and only his brothers and father can control him. I would say that he is almost the polar opposite of his older brother, to the point where he suppresses earthquakes when he walks the earth instead of causing them. He has to be the one that was summoned, though I have no idea why anyone would choose him."

"What's his name?" Adam had already switched apps on his small tablet to view the books that he had scanned in the bunker, the lists of known Faeries and their abilities pulled up on his screen.

"Lucifer."

AN: I had a weird dream of Cas as a human-sized Faerie and you are looking at the result. I actually dreamed a very specific line from one of my favorite Disney movies, one that Cas will eventually say to Dean near the end of the story. I actually woke up at 1am to google the line because I could not, for the life of me, remember what Disney movie it came from. I intend to keep this one short, especially with my 4 long fics and 2 one-shots still vying for my love. Also, the title of this chapter is a reference to the meaning of Lucifer's name, The Morning Star.