Destiny of the Wolf

By Stacey Lama

An ancient prophecy warns of the dreaded Lunar Tetrad. It precedes the birth of the Phoenix, an evil Demigod who conquers worlds. Only the WellSpring can stop his reign, but her whereabouts are unknown and time is running out. One man's unfortunate destiny will place him squarely in the midst of things and it will be his decision which will determine the world's future. Warning, Adult Content.

A true-born lycanthrope, Eric Greywolf prefers a simple life of solitude. Besides the few bounty hunting expeditions each year, he shuns the agricultural society that would condemn him as a monster. A recent group expedition leads to an unexpected detour and brings him face to face with a mysterious beauty who harbors dangerous secrets. Suddenly, his world is turned upside down, as destiny plunges him into an ancient prophecy of destruction.

Amare Integratio has been on the run for years. Hiding out in an obscure village, she almost forgets what it is like to be among her own nomadic people. As a sacred WellSpring, her duty is to use her power to maintain the balance of life on the planet, which she has suppressed over fears of being discovered. An unfortunate incident places her in the care of a deadly bounty hunter. With a price on her head, she must tread carefully, or risk enslavement by the man who is hunting her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacey Lama
• Release date: Jan 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370806393

Book preview

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, or incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance of actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Revised 2023

Copyright © 2017 Stacey Lama

Title Page Copyright © 2017 Joanne Fryer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, redistributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, print, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the Author, Stacey Lama.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For questions or to be added to my mailing list, please contact me at:

[e-mail]

Acknowledgements

For my mom, brother, and husband.

CONTENTS:

PROLOGUE

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

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

About the Author

Sneak Peek from Destiny of the Phoenix

Prologue

According to the Lunarian people, a prophecy was foretold at the end of the last disastrous Solarian War, approximately five-thousand years ago.

It was lost to time as to whether Dragonkind gave them this prophecy, or if it had come through the visions of their Shamans, but its importance led to the creation of their written language. This insured that it would be preserved and followed for all time.

This important prophecy warned them how to stop the next rising of the Phoenix, which would cause the annihilation of not only their race, but possibly the world. This prophecy has been dutifully chanted, by every faithful member of the tribe, on every fall equinox and winter solstice. It goes as follow:

Beware, Beware, the Solar Year,

In which the PHOENIX will appear.

The Lunar Tetrad will precede,

The Foretold Birth of Evil Seed.

Extinction comes, or pay the Price:

The WellSpring must be Sacrificed.

Should She survive to Twenty-Five,

The Gypsy race begins to Die.

But Sacrificed at Twenty-Four,

The PHOENIX's Reign will be no more.

Success! Skies yield familiar Signs.

Failure! Yields Planets in straight lines.

The Lunar Tetrad happened over twenty-three years ago, and the WellSpring, also known as the Chosen Sacrifice, was identified. To the tribe's dismay, her parents spirited her away to be hidden, refusing to allow their daughter to die.

The Chosen One is unaware of her destiny and remains hidden. With her twenty-fourth birthday arriving soon, the Lunarians are desperate to locate her.

Will they find her in time, or do they face their own extinction at the hands of the Phoenix?

Although the waxing gibbous moon had arisen, the heavy cloud cover from the approaching storm had left the world shrouded in almost total darkness.

Eric Greywolf silently moved through the small, rural village of Oarsdale without being noticed. In wolf form, his lupine senses easily navigated through the darkness, as he quickly scouted around the village, until he finally found what he was searching for.

The old, abandoned house was securely boarded, located slightly on the outskirts of town, and rarely visited. Eric and his companions had never been to Oarsdale before, since it resided about ten miles west of the trade road they frequently took between the small city of Shady Veil and Ogre's Pass. Discretion was the key to dealing with an unknown society and the abandoned house would allow them to remain unnoticed, unbothered, and unreported.

The freshest scent of any human activity near the home, was a bit over two days old. It consisted of an elderly human who walked alongside an old three-legged dog, down a small path running through the backyard.

A huge field was nearby which appeared to be fallow. Eric thought it was strange that a large amount of firewood had been stacked at the field's center and just left out in the elements, but he rarely wasted time figuring out irrational human behavior.

Switching to his hybrid form, he circled around to the rear of the house and found a boarded-up window obscured by nearby bushes. A quick flick of his claws pulled the board, nails and all, away from the window. He slipped inside to investigate.

The house was well kept, with a solid roof and no drafts. The furniture was covered over in linen and the only thing he detected was a few rodents and the usual insects. At least they would be able to stay dry through the coming storm. Outside, the wrap around porch made it easy to detect if someone arrived while they were there.

This was a good sign, considering the strange aura of uneasiness that seemed to blanket the village. The hair on the back of Eric's neck had stood up as soon as he approached within five yards of what appeared to be a quaint, quiet, and otherwise ordinary village. However, it felt as if something ominous was going to happen soon, and it wasn't the impending rain shower.

Eric was almost tempted to have the guys stay outside of the village for tonight, but the unexpected detour they had faced earlier had left them an additional two days away from their final destination.

Although Eric could care less, Kir and Damon were getting tired of tent living, setting up watch, and eating the standard dry rations that were par for the course when it came to long-term traveling. The rain would only make things even more miserable for those two and he already argued with Kir for over an hour about why they couldn't waltz in and ask for lodging. At least this house was a secure location; Warm, dry, and safe...or so it seemed.

He returned to the village outskirts, where his clothes and pack were hidden, shifted back into his human form and geared up. He then backtracked to catch up with his two companions, Damon and Kir. They were impatiently waiting a quarter mile outside of town, while Eric completed his reconnaissance.

Let's go! Eric said to them quietly. We can hole up in an abandoned house I found, but only until dawn. We need to head out of here before the village awakens. I can't locate any tangible reason why, but my gut tells me that we don't want to be anywhere near here by tomorrow morning.

They followed him, taking significantly more time, since they couldn't follow the same path Eric had originally used in wolf form. He, once again, found himself thankful for his lycanthrope heritage. Being a werewolf had major advantages - if you didn't mind shape-changing, having superior senses, howling and hunting by the light of a full moon, and of course, being paranoid that someone would figure out you were a monster and try to kill you. Life was never perfect, so you had to make the best of it.

They entered the house through the rear window and set up camp in the large living room. It was still early spring, so he knew Kir and Damon were grateful that the abandoned house was sealed up tight from the cool temperatures and not dilapidated or infested. Using a small lantern, the three of them laid out their sleeping bags and quietly ate the dehydrated travel rations that they all loved to complain about.

I still think we should have rented a place to stay tonight, here in the village, Kir grumbled, along with his stomach, while digging out of his backpack the silver comb and mirror that he never, ever, went anywhere without. I'm hungry for real sustenance. It's not like we are broke, especially after this last bounty-hunting adventure.

Eric laughed at the sight of Kir's useless attempts to comb his wild, spiked hair into obedience, causing Kir to scowl and throw an empty can at him. If Eric had not known the eccentric half-elven warrior for several years, he would have sworn Kir was a helpless and exceedingly vain nobleman. Although Kir was muscular and agile, his slender elven features and shorter statue made him seem more like a boy than a man.

Come on, Kir, don't be such a whelp, Eric teased and tossed the can back at him, which Kir deftly caught. We've only been traveling together for less than four weeks. He arched a brow at Kir. Are you going soft on me?

Like Hell! Kir grinned from ear to ear and his gaze wandered up towards the ceiling with a faraway look. I'm just a sucker for a delicious home cooked meal, a never-empty mug of spirits, and an attractive woman who is eager to warm my bed for the night. His ice blue eyes twinkled deviously.

Kir took another vain glance at his mirror, which only confirmed his futile attempts on taming his hair. He scowled and let out an exaggerated sigh, tossing both the mirror and silver comb into his backpack, and mumbling some expletive, before he resigned himself to oiling his studded leather armor.

Meanwhile, Damon was writing notes and quietly reading an old tome that they had found among the gathered loot from this last assignment. It was an odd find, since the raiders they killed appeared to be merely common thugs with a heavy bounty on them, not scribes, monks, or noblemen.

Neither Eric, who only read and wrote in the common tongue, nor Kir, who knew seven distinct languages, could read the foreign language the tome contained. Damon was the only one who had become excited over it and said that he understood some of the language but had yet to figure it out.

Apparently, the tome was written in a dead language that was last spoken over four thousand years ago. The problem, Damon had explained to them, was figuring out the cryptic meanings of the foreign symbols in relation to their context.

Either way, Damon was extremely interested in it, so selling it was out of the question. Although, with over two thirds of the population being illiterate, it was unlikely to be worth much without the right buyer.

Although the group usually took several excursions a year, this last event took a little longer than anticipated. They were all eager to get back to the easy life. Unfortunately, the spring rains had caused a devastating landslide, which blocked the trade road through Orge's Pass to Shady Veil, making this trek even longer.

Eric was glad to have his trusted companions along, especially in a disturbing village like this. The three of them had always been successful in their bounty hunting over the years. Each of them had their own unique fighting style, which allowed them the ability to adapt to various situations, as well as preempt each other's mindset. This shaped them into becoming a well-knit and devastating killing squad. Damon and Kir were also the only two people on the planet who knew of his secret; not that he would have told them willingly.

Accidents happen, so they say, and it just so happened to be on their third adventure when things had spiraled out of control. He would never had changed into his hybrid form, but in this case, it was life or death for all of them.

When the battle was over and only corpses littered the field, Eric awaited their onslaught. Instead, they both took it in stride and didn't even question him about it, until days after they had recuperated. It was proof enough that they didn't see him as a monster.

For once, in a very long time, he had been able to count on both their loyalty and trust. Loyalty was extremely hard to come by in humanoids of any race. Trust could be easily achieved, if there was a mutual goal or enemy, but loyalty was another thing entirely.

Eric did not place much faith in humanity's willingness to help one another. Especially, after the things he had been through and witnessed.

After that incident, Eric had slowly informed Damon and Kir about his full capabilities, at least the ones he was aware of. He also offered to turn them, should they ever desire to become werewolves. So far, neither of them had taken him up on that offer.

Not that he could blame them - they would have to be beta wolves until they learned to control themselves. They couldn't just decide to leave the pack, simply because they disagreed with him being alpha. So, there could be a downside for a few years.

Then comes the fun part: you must worry about the people who will want to kill you, if they found out, the family you won't be able to have, the possibility of outliving everyone around you...etc. There was always a catch in life.

Unlike some beliefs about werewolves, you won't live forever, but you sure as hell are hard to kill. Eric also noticed that he didn't seem to age as quickly as others around him did. There was no fear of sickness or disease. Broken bones and torn tissues healed quickly on their own, wounds never left scars, and women fell all over themselves just to get your attention. Again, why wouldn't anyone want to be a werewolf?

Ok, so we all agree to meet again, at the Summer Festival in Shady Veil? Eric looked to Kir and Damon, each nodding back at him in return. You know where to find me, if you were to need me sooner.

Yes, except it takes almost a moon's travel to get to your place, Damon pointed out. That's an adventure all unto itself. You really should relocate closer to us.

I like to make things difficult, every now and then. Eric stated. Besides, you know that the two of you can only take so much of me.

That's a gross understatement. Kir replied with a laugh. There is nothing easy when it comes to you, my friend. Lucky for you, you're rich and slightly good-looking, so some woman out there may be desperate enough to marry you.

They all laughed at that, as if Eric would ever date, let alone marry, considering his lycanthropy and desire to be alone.

Eric was a loner since the age of twelve, shunning people whenever he could. Solitude equaled safety. It was hard to try and explain his differences, like picking up heavy things his body shouldn't be capable of, never having to shave, never getting sick, and always knowing when someone was lying. That last part made Eric the most bitter, since humans lied most of the time, even when it wasn't necessary. Sadly, many of them believed the lies that they were telling, even when their body knew otherwise.

Kir and Damon had both told him, more often than he liked to hear, that a good woman who truly loved him, wouldn't care about his lycanthropy. Eric, of course, knew otherwise. If his own mother could betray him, how could anyone subscribe to such a notion.

One hot, sensuous night was all a woman ever got with him - before he briskly sent them packing or left their place immediately afterwards. Not that they didn't ask him to stay; many of them did. However, Eric could never settle for being a kept man. He didn't care much for women, beyond a roll in the hay, and the wolf inside would never be tamed. Relationship difficulties were not worth the wasted effort; everyone knew that a woman only wanted to change you and bind your life to theirs.

They each wound down for the night, after finishing up the last of their spiced rum and swapping outrageous and embellished battle stories. The liquor warmed them and calmed their nerves after a long week of tracking and fighting raiders.

They were extremely lucrative raiders, which had made Eric uneasy. After the vicious battle, the three of them wound up with so much coin, that they had to bury half of it and agree to come back later to dig it up. It was almost as if those raiders were financed by someone with an open pocketbook.

None of them had never encountered so many valuables on a bounty hunt, even when they were hired to exterminate an entire twenty-man gang. He had the unsettling feeling that maybe this hunt should be the last.

Damn, this village had made him jumpy.

Although Eric had more than enough to secure his retirement, even if he lived as a semi-rich nobleman for the next twenty years, he knew he could not give up fighting. The thrill of the hunt called to him like a hypnotic siren's song. The hot blood of an enemy, spewing over him in battle, felt like a lover's caress. There wasn't a better feeling in the world than conquering an adversary.

Eric bunked down near where they had originally entered the house. He felt confident that he would hear anyone approach, even in the deepest of sleep. He listened as the slight pattering of rain began to hit the roof before becoming a roaring downpour.

After tomorrow, they would part ways again, each to their own home. Wealthy beyond what he had ever dreamed possible, mostly due to this last successful adventure, Eric thought of the various ways to spend his share. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, long-legged, dark-haired females came to mind.

Unlike his companions, it had been a long seven weeks for him, with another three more weeks of travel ahead, until he reached his home. Soon, he would have lots of leisure time, or so he hoped.

Fate, on the other hand, had plans for him.

Chapter 1

Amare hung from the wooden pole awkwardly and painfully. Her bare feet were tied to a smaller post, which hardly gave her body any support. She still felt bone cold after spending a sleepless night on the dirt floor of the village's dank jail cell, awaiting her inevitable death. Her arms were drawn upwards, toward the apex of the pole, leaving her shoulders to bear the brunt of her body weight. Every muscle ached and a foul taste in her mouth still lingered from the drugs they had plied her with.

The dawn was fast approaching as the villagers gathered noisily around, each carrying armfuls of newly cut pieces of wood. Meanwhile, the ten council members and one of her accusers were holding torches, impatiently waiting to light them.

The wood and tinder continued to be pushed beneath her haphazardly in haste, since last night's rain had ruined the original wood pile the villagers had meticulously stacked for hours the day before.

Amare was hopeful in the beginning, that they would have canceled their plans, as more time had elapsed since she was ridiculously charged with death by fire. Many things were done in the night that were discarded by morning, perhaps some of them would be more reasonable.

She looked desperately at each of the villagers faces, looking for any possible hint that even one of them would take pity and try to get her out of this mess.

Her constant struggles against the binding ropes only caused her additional pain. Her wrists and ankles were bleeding where the harsh ropes had sawed through her tender skin. Still, she was bound tight.

How do I get out of this predicament?

She sighed to herself, took some deep breaths, and attempted to remain calm. There was no one here who would save her, and she dared not to try and use her innate power.

It would be devastating to see one animal after another, leap toward the flames to rescue her, only to scream in agony as they were burned alive or maimed themselves. Besides, that would only confirm to the village that the charges of witchcraft against her were warranted.

Her mind was still clouded; her tongue swollen and dry. Although the drugs they had given her were beginning to wear off, it was far too late now to save herself.

Her ex-fiancé Matthew, the very man who helped betray her and the one who had physically strapped her to this pole himself, stood eagerly waiting to be the first to light the pyre.

She still could not believe that she had ever allowed herself to fall for his deceit. She never once did anything to arouse suspicion or let on that she was anything other than a foreigner from a distant land.

She had played her part perfectly, so she thought. The fact that Matthew had even asked her to marry him four months ago, had assured her that the entire village had finally believed her past and had accepted her as one of their own.

She wanted to kick herself over her stupidity. While she thought it was her scamming him, by pushing the wedding off for a year and knowing full well she would disappear before winter, it was he who played her.

She was so concerned over keeping up her charade that she