Anger burned throughout Maeve as she paced back and forth in the cottage of the most feared witch in existence. The home was immaculate despite its drab exterior, with some of the finest appliances and finishes known to the modern realm. If it weren't for the dangerous aura of magic pulsing throughout the living room they stood in, Maeve would have said the home was cozy. She turned back toward the witch, who sat perfectly poised on the edge of the sofa, her legs dangling over the sides.
It was an unnerving sight with the old magic pouring from the eight year old, the blackened eyes as she stared deep into the glass orb that contained her payment.
Just as swiftly as the menacing feeling in the air began, it stopped. The black eyes of the witch child melting back to the large baby blues that had taken Maeve off guard when she'd first arrived. The witch's eyes slid over to Maeve in an unnervingly intelligent once over. "Where did you get this?"
"It doesn't matter,"-she cleared her throat, nervousness causing her voice to crack, and spoke harder-"Will it be enough?"
The witch stood, setting the orb aside as she approached Maeve. "Perhaps. What exactly are you asking of me?"
Maeve growled, baring her teeth as the witch stepped forward to stand before her, a dark look in her blue eyes. Maeve forced the words out of her mouth, anger, loss, and determination fighting for dominance in her voice.
"I want to destroy Meara Conan."
The witch's eyes narrowed even further as she looked up at the young werewolf before her, "Meara?" She laughed. "You don't know what you're asking for."
Maeve growled, this time with annoyance, "I will destroy her, with my own hands. And then I will take the pack as my own."
The amusement in the witch died, "You have no idea, do you?"
"Know what?" Maeve glared down at the witch who didn't know how to mind her own business.
"Even I can't touch Meara. Not with the power she wields. Nor with the friends she has. What makes you think you can destroy her?"
The wolf scowled, "She only has her power because of the pack. Take that away and she's nothing more than another wolf."
Maeve watched the witch with a close eye, looking for the barest hint of interest. She continued on, "Meara and that old coot she calls a father, aren't fit to run the pack anymore. They'd rather kill people than do it the hard way and help them instead."
The witch just raised a brow, her silence palpable of her doubt. "You know nothing. However, I will help you."
Maeve blinked, surprised. "You will?"
The witch just grinned, "Your price is worth it."
With a fluid motion, the witch child raised her arms, speaking under her breath in a language Maeve had never heard before, the sound guttural and foreign. Despite being mid-day, the room grew dark, the air sinister before a swell of bright light formed in the air above them. Maeve flinched, taking a step back as she gazed up at the magical ball. In the center, images started to appear. At first, they just appeared as shadows, but soon color and definition took shape. Maeve found herself looking at a distorted image of Meara, talking with Conan, as they stood in his office.
Maeve stared daggers into the image of Meara, hatred and loss storming through her where she knew love and compassion should be. It's her fault that it's not there though, and that's why she stood here, ready to make a deal with the most notorious witch in existence.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" The witch's voice carried over the hum of magic in a sing song tune, a coyness playing in her tone that put Maeve on edge. "I can always send you away instead."
"No," Maeve scowled at her, "Meara and Conan must pay. If I defeat Meara, I'll have the power to properly challenge Conan, she won't be able to stop me, and the pack won't either."
The witch giggled, "Well if that's the way you want it, then there's just one other thing I'd like to throw into this deal as well."
Maeve swallowed as the witch was suddenly eye level with her, the baby blue eyes glowing blood-red as she ran a small finger over Maeve's cheek.
"If you fail to kill Meara, I get to take Akari's soul as well." She let out another giggle. "I know you have it. I can sense it on you."
Maeve felt her heart pound loud in her ears as she couldn't help but stare into this demon-witch's eyes. "But-No. No, that's not part of the deal."
"Think of it as an incentive then." The witch's finger grazed gently down her throat before digging into Maeve's skin at the side of her neck. "If you fail, I get to keep Samar and Akari's soul. That's the oooooonnnly way I'll do what you ask."
Dark emotions crossed through Maeve, anger, hate, disgust, and then finally determination. She glared at the witch, her wolf coming to the surface as her eyes glowed blue."Do it."
The magic above them pulsed as the witch pulled away, her face back to the angelic child form. A shadow of hands extended from the witch's small child hands circling the magical orb above them before dissipating altogether. Excitement raced through Maeve's veins as the image of Meara exploded in a flash of light, leaving a shocked Conan standing in alarm at his desk.
Feeling her superior wolf disappear from the mental link the pack had together, Maeve felt a tumultuous wave of emotions, some her own, but most from the other pack members. With a smirk and quick reassurance down the pack lines, Maeve grinned down at the witch. "A pleasure, little girl."
Okay, so this was a lot late. That was my bad, I got distracted. This is the new prologue, and it is very different from the OG An Immortal Werewolf In Middle-Earth. Hopefully, I can get back on a writing schedule and have weekly updates for you guys. As always, please review and I hope you like this revamp.
Love ya, Fam. ;)