A Witch's Curse: Broken Series, #5

By M. L. Stephens

Everything you've ever heard or believed about witches, vampires and werewolves is about to change..

Hecate didn't dabble in dark magic. Watching her lover die at the end of another man's sword changed that. In a single act of vengeance, she turned her lover's killer into a werewolf and cursed him for eternity. It was A Witch's Curse to rival all others and it was her last act as a goddess.

Drago despised being a werewolf. He spent thousands of years searching for an antidote, only to discover that the witch who cursed him, also had to cure him. Unfortunately, that witch died lifetimes ago. Undeterred, he continued to search. Two years ago he found Hecate's remains lying in a crypt hidden deep within the Louisiana Bayou. Today, he watched a coven of witches bring her back to life.

He killed her lover. She damned him for all time. Can two souls who are destined to be eternal enemies, learn to forgive enough to live again?
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. L. Stephens
• Release date: Oct 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497707856

Book preview

Prologue

The Gods Stood as One

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Humans thought they could overthrow the Greek gods. They'd been wrong, dead wrong. Now their corpses littered the battlefield, providing food for the ravenous birds that pecked away at the flesh of the dead and dying.

When mankind challenged Zeus, he alerted his Roman counterparts. If the Greeks believed they could overpower their own gods, it was safe to assume the Romans would attempt the same. As a show of strength, for the first and only time in history, both Greek and Roman deities stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a display of unity and force. It was a day of blood and retribution meant to strengthen mankind's understanding that the gods were not mere mortals, even though they occasionally appeared in human form. The battle would go down in history as the day the Earth trembled with fear and the gods displayed supreme command over all of creation.

Hecate scoured the field for signs of life. She was sworn to protect the homes of humans, but the battle ravaged pasture wasn't a home. It was a field of war and she'd fought hard against the defiant men who'd stood against her kind. The blood covering her body wasn't her own, it belonged to those she'd slain and it served as a badge of despair as well as of honor. The gods hadn't wanted this war, they'd simply ended it.

Halfway through the battle, she'd watched across the field of destruction as her lover's life had ended. She'd been fighting dozens of men and couldn't break free in time to save him. Her lover, her mate, her friend, had become a casualty in the war against mortals.

Turning her attention back to the mounds of the dead, she canvassed the motionless bodies beneath her sandaled feet, hoping that one of the bodies belonged to the man who had slain her lover. With each lifeless face she searched, she became increasingly concerned that Packto's murderer had escaped.

For hours following the battle she continued scanning the dead, plunging her sword into any human still breathing. As she flipped the last corpse, she knew. The human who had taken her beloved’s life had survived. A single tear formed, but she refused to allow it to fall. Tears didn't belong in war. Instead of allowing her comrades to witness tears, her sorrowful howl penetrated the thick shroud of death looming around her. The deities lowered to one knee, solemnly bowing their heads to honor their fallen comrade. Hecate's roar of rage and loss was a promise to all who heard. She'd find the human who had murdered her mate and she would avenge his death.

With assistance from the Roman god Neptune, Hecate collected her mate and together they carried Packto to the Great Hall. The silver door leading into the palace didn't shine as brightly as it had that morning. The mother-of-pearl walls seemed to close in around her as she made her way to her suite and the golden leaves embedded in the nickel plated floors appeared to wither beneath her feet.

Neptune, who went by the name of Darius when in mortal form, helped her lay her lover's body down on the bed she'd shared with him that morning. With controlled emotions and pent up anger, she washed the blood from Packto's face, his torso and the rest of his lifeless form. She meticulously cleaned his hands and fingernails and then washed the hair that she'd run her fingers through the night before as they'd prepared to enter battle.

With breathless abandon she fell upon the breast of a denied future as she contemplated the impossible. The love of her life had been taken from her and there wasn't anything she could do to change his fate. Not caring that Neptune stood behind her, unabashed tears streamed down her face. She lifted her head to look at her lover's face one last time. Eyes that had once been filled with exuberance and unrelenting love were now glazed over and lifeless. With steely resolve, she ran her hand over his face to close them. Until we meet again, my love, my life.

Stroking his wavy hair, she struggled to breathe as reality sunk in. There would never be another love as true. Packto had fought beside her, mated with her and had remained fiercely loyal. He had taught her to laugh and now he'd shown her how to cry. Wiping at the tears, she swore to never allow the waters of agony to streak her face again. She was a warrior unlike any other. She was the beginning and the end. As the original witch, her destiny remained in the present and the future.

Lifting her face from his, she stood with determination and straightened her shoulders. The battle with mankind was over, but her personal battle had just begun. Packto was a single causality in a war that had many, but she would make certain he was not the last. She would seek justice and avenge his death. The man who had slain Packto would most certainly meet a punishment so severe that not even Zeus could fathom the extent of her vengeance.

Without tearing her eyes away from Packto's body, she asked the god who had aided her, the single most relevant question echoing in her mind, What punishment befits a human who has slain a god?

He answered without hesitation. It would be severe.

And so it shall be. Turning to look at Neptune for the first time, she smiled a smile that would cause a non-deity to cower in fear. Neither the Greeks nor the Romans have ever witnessed such punishment as will befall the human who killed Packto.

Of this I have no doubt. I do not pity the mortal who has earned your wrath, Darius said with conviction as he searched the woman's eyes. He had seen her fight. She was swift, vicious and certain. What name do you carry? He did not want to forget the goddess who had made such a promise or the woman who had fought alongside the male gods.

I am goddess of the moon and night, the goddess of ghosts, witchcraft and magic and I swear upon my name that vengeance will be mine.

I am Neptune, Roman god of the sea and freshwater. I offer you my aid.

It is not by water that justice shall be served. His punishment will be eternal. He will not find refuge from my wrath in death, but shall deal with it forever in life.

"That is a punishment far worse than death," Darius whispered.

He will know what it is to live, love and lose that love over and over again. His heart will break a thousand times as mine has broken this day. He will never know the joy of growing old with family. As a sacrifice to my curse, I offer up my mortal body. Once I find the man and exact my vengeance, I will join Packto in the heavens where we shall once again be together. This is my vow.

Those few spoken words were the beginning of an eternal kinship. The Greek and Roman gods had never stood together before that day and would never again join forces, but Hecate and Darius formed a bond which would stand the test of time and defy the unspoken laws of the gods by continuing a friendship that would challenge cultures, the heavens and eternity.

Chapter 1

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It's happening, Gina nervously announced as she ran into the cave that served as their latest home. Shaking off the rain, she walked close to the fire in an effort to warm her chilled bones. Although the elements rarely caused her discomfort, the icy fingers of an unknown future did. Not wanting him to sense her anxiety, she cast her hands toward the campfire flames and stared at a charred log as it cracked and rolled to the edge of the blaze. Tiny embers floated above the fire before turning to ash and settling back in the pit.

What's happening? Drago asked, unaffected by her theatrical angst. Gina was known to be somewhat of a drama queen. Since taking her under his protection, she'd caused more grief than not. Her quick temper and sharp tongue were the cause of many disagreements amongst the others, but he refused to turn his back on any member of the close-knit family unit. There were times when he questioned that logic. The fact that he continued to afford her the safety of his protection was a testament to patience and sanity.

The witches are convening in the crypt, she reported, casually shifting her eyes from the fire to glance at the dark haired man sitting in the far corner of the cave. Though Drago's face was still shrouded in the shadows, the glow from the fire enhanced his strong legs and muscled chest, sending a short-lived wave of regret down her spine. He'd rescued her from a life of brutality and had taught her what it meant to no longer fall victim to unscrupulous men; memories of the steamy nights and unbridled sex she'd had with him occasionally played in her mind. There was a time when she thought the two of them would bond, but that never happened, much to her chagrin.

Leaning forward with elbows on knees, Drago's face came into view. With olive skin and dark brown eyes, he was the most sexually appealing man she had ever laid eyes on. His sleek black hair, finely chiseled jaw and brooding ways were enough to cause most women to toss their dignity and their panties out the window. She'd been one of those women. Unfortunately for her, the undeniable bond that happens between males and females of their kind never occurred between them. Their relationship had been strictly based on lust and carnal desire.

A low growl emanated from Peter's direction, warning Gina to shut down her lusty past memory of Drago. Peter was her life mate, a bond that could only be broken by death.

When she met Peter, Gina was instantly and irrevocably bonded to him. Drago didn't give a second thought to ending their long-lived affair and even encouraged her new relationship. He'd been aloof and evasive since. It was as if their love affair had never happened.

Without waiting for Gina to say more, Drago pushed past the others as they tentatively waited to see what he'd do. Quickly making his way to the cave's opening, Drago stepped just outside the entrance. Lifting his head to the sky, he allowed the deluge of rain to wash over him. This night could be the beginning of his end. Not even the looming hurricane would stop him from doing what needed to be done. He'd waited far too long to allow the witch to slip through his fingers. Soon, the curse would be lifted and he'd be reborn.

Dealing with the witches will be dangerous enough without fighting the storm, too. At least wait until it passes before you go traipsing into the kill zone, Trevor argued.

Lightening flashed across the sky, followed by a resounding clap of thunder. Casting a warning glance over his shoulder, Drago eagerly reminded the other man of his position within their circle. I created you and I can destroy you. Don't speak to me of danger. I've waited thousands of years for this. I'm not waiting anymore. Drago bounded into the swirling winds and rain, eager to see if there was any truth behind Gina's words.

The rain pelted his skin and clouded his vision as Drago fought the storm and made his way toward the crypt. The hurricane made it difficult to maneuver the swamp but he continued to press forward. Not even the ferociousness of Mother Nature would stop him. He'd survived much worse and had sacrificed everything for the cure.

His entire existence boiled down to this one moment in time, and the treacherous onslaught of tropical weather wouldn't stop him from keeping his date with destiny. Decades of hiding from his past while running from his future would soon end.

He wanted to witness the witch's awakening with his own eyes, to see for himself that years of waiting hadn't been in vain. His search for her had taken him across deserts and oceans until it finally brought him to America. He hoped the prophecy was true and his search hadn't been for nothing. He desperately wanted the nightmare to end.

The woman inside the crypt had created the poison that coursed through his blood and she would create the antidote. He'd outlived hundreds of hunters who sought to capture him. He'd bested warriors of old and battled against creatures of the night in his quest to survive, and though his family had been gone for so long that he could no longer recall their faces, he was determined to be cured of the wretched curse which had become his life. Finding the original witch had not been an easy task. Once he'd located her, he hadn't drifted far from her side. Only she could return him to his former self and right the wrong that she'd done.

As Drago approached the crypt, his ears perked up at the sound of the voices inside. The howling winds of the hurricane made it difficult to clearly understand what was being said, but not even their fury could block the sounds that he'd longed to hear. They were the voices that would merge his past and present and secure his future.

Crawling through the rain and darkness of the Louisiana Bayou, he took the last tortured steps and braced himself against the concrete structure. This was where he'd wait. He had to know if what Gina said was true. The blustering winds and pouring rain couldn't disguise the smell of the witch's flesh as it began to take form. She was being resurrected. His heart pounded in his chest as he recalled the years of despair he'd endured, but that would soon be over. He could now begin to envision his plans for a normal future—a human future.

The witch had slumbered for centuries and he'd been imprisoned by her wretched curse for just as long. Her awakening meant he could become what he was meant to be. He would be free of the shackles which kept him bound to the Earth, free of immortality. The witch was his link to normalcy, his link to life and death. He had to find a way to convince her to correct the crime she'd committed in ancient Greece so he could be human again.

Drago waited patiently until finally the witches exited the structure. The storm which exploded around him just moments before fell eerily quiet. It was safe to assume the witch had cast a spell to calm the raging winds. He admired her ability to control the elements, but loathed it as well. He loathed what she had done to him. He loathed the power she wielded without care. Because of her disregard for these things, he'd grown to hate her without knowing her, though he would kill anyone who attempted to cause her harm. He needed her alive. He needed the cure.

Hecate turned to look at the female witch who owned the Fontaine plantation. Her face