Chapter Text
The woods were dark, but they hadn’t been silent for hours. The sounds of snarling, yelling, screaming and the occasional explosion filled the forest with sound, giving a reference to the violence Ash knew was being acted out around him. Worry churned in his gut, because that was his family out there, his pack, but he ignored it. A single lapse in his concentration and the spell he was weaving would collapse. Ash had grown up in these woods. He knew them like other kids knew their back yards, and he used that knowledge now to reach out with his magic, to locate their enemies.
A coven of warlocks had invaded Hale territory in ignorance. They had come looking for sacrifices for their latest ritual, but what they had found instead was a werewolf pack ready and willing to defend their town. Ash’s parents had tried to keep the kids out of the fight, at least the ones Ash’s age or younger, but the warlocks were many and powerful, and they had been dragged into the fight whether they liked it or not.
Ash had been born with magic in his veins, it came naturally to him like the shift came naturally to his werewolf kin. He reached out with his magic, sensing out the pack through the pack-bond, and then went looking for those heartbeats that didn’t resonate with a sense of family and home. These ones sang with dark magic, rich and intoxicating and almost nauseatingly sweet. Ash felt a twinge of fear when he counted over a dozen of them.
A little way off, his cousin Valerie ripped into one of the warlocks and Ash felt the man’s presence flicker and fade away. But these were all underlings. His family was being held off by the grunts, who were admittedly powerful enough to be a big problem by themselves, while the head of their coven prepared a clearing for their ritual sacrifice.
Eyes snapping open again, Ash returned to himself and his physical surroundings. On his left, his brother Russell was fighting with a mountain ash staff that was really doing a number on the warlocks trying to get past him. Off somewhere in front of him, Ash could see his sister, Fallon, bounding through the trees in her lithe black wolf form. She was surrounded by warlocks, but holding her own impressively. No doubt the warlocks had felt Ash’s use of magic and rushed to stop him. He’d never been more grateful to have over-protective older sibling in his life.
Without a word, Ash sprinted off into the forest. He knew his brother and sister would follow if they could, and if they couldn’t, Ash knew where his nearest packmates were. He dodged through the trees, passing Grandpa Argent fighting back to back with his daughter, and promptly swerved to the right and passed the twins, Killian and Damien, seamlessly shifting between wolf and man as they fought.
He could feel Fallon racing through the trees beside him, sensed Russell a little way behind, but catching up fast, and he finally left the battle behind as he darted deeper into the woods. The sounds of the fight faded away to silence, until the only sounds Ash could pick up were his own breathing and the sound of Russell’s footsteps. Fallon’s paws were silent on the thick carpet of leaf mould on the forest floor.
They burst into the clearing side by side and skidded to a stop to take in the scene before them. The head of the coven of warlocks, a startlingly average looking man with cropped brown hair, faint stubble and tired eyes, was kneeling inside a circle of herbs, ashes and other magical ingredients, and was chanting under his breath over a gleaming dagger. On the other side of the clearing, seven people were lying unconscious, bound and gagged, in a heap.
The warlock’s head jerked up as they entered the clearing, his mumbled chanting coming to an abrupt stop. He seemed to be swelling with power for a moment, no doubt planning to blast them away from him, disorient them, or possibly even kill them, but then his eyes met Ash’s, and he paused a smile that was more a leer than anything else overcoming his features. “Ah, the young Mage. I felt your presence from the moment I set foot in this town, but unfortunately, recruiting you comes second to our rituals.”
“Thanks but no thanks.” Ash replied at once.
“Your talents are wasted on this flea-bitten pack of mongrel dogs.” The warlock countered, shooting a disdainful look at Fallon, whose hackles rose at the insult to her pack. “Think of what you could do without them holding you back. Without their binary mindset keeping you limited.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you, you prejudiced little shit?” Russell asked from beside Ash.
“Silence!” The warlock hissed, raising a hand in Russell’s direction. Russell opened his mouth, probably to shoot off another taunt, but no sound came out. Ash felt the indignation rising up in him and he flexed his will, pressing against the warlock’s curse until he could pry it away from his brother. Russell let out an impressive stream of swears, and the warlock turned an admiring gaze on Ash. “Well, well, well, you’re certainly a natural at this. You don’t even need words, do you? Let alone a physical representation. A natural indeed.”
Ash took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Control, his dad always stressed. It was important to acknowledge and feel your emotions, but the moment they took control, you were lost. Your enemy had the advantage then, they had a way in, a way to break you. “You are going to stop what you are doing, leave Beacon Hills, and never, ever threaten my pack again.” Ash stated as firmly as he could.
The warlock laughed. “Oh, am I?” He asked through his chuckles. “You may be a natural, but it seems that level of charm is beyond you as of yet.” He pointed out, expression slowly darkening. “Your pack, you say? Perhaps I was mistaken. Your magic when it swept this clearing earlier felt like the power of a Mage, but you talk like a Druid, like one of those cursed Emissaries.”
“I am a Mage.” Ash replied. “But I am also a Hale, and part of the Hale Pack.”
The warlock looked utterly repulsed by this notion. “You say that as though you are proud to get into bed with dogs.” He spat. Ash pulled a face right back. “Most wolf packs are an annoyance at best, but it is true that your pack has proved wearisome. You have too many magic users, and the feel of your bond in the air makes my skin crawl with it’s potency.” He scoffed.
Ash couldn’t help the proud smile that spread over his face. “A stronger bond makes a stronger pack.” He replied happily.
The warlock hummed, a nasty smile overtaking his face. “But it wasn’t always so, was it?” He mused. “No, once your pack was divided, weak. The fire at your house, hmm, must have been around thirty years ago, it broke so many bonds, you can still feel the shards if you dig deep enough.”
Ash shuddered. He knew the warlock was right, but he tried so hard not to reach for those broken memories. The power released by the forced breaking of a pack bond as powerful as the Hale pack had, that was potent stuff, and eleven people had died in that fire. Eleven pack members with their bonds to the rest of the pack severed by flame and smoke.
Still, what was more disturbing than the memory of those broken bonds was the smile on the warlock’s face. He was smirking like he’d already won. “Let’s see how easy it will be to break your shattered pack.” Were his parting words before he drove the dagger into the ground and vanished.
Russell and Fallon lurched forwards, Fallon towards the sacrifices, and Russell towards the circle. However, once he reached it, he found he couldn’t cross it. “Damn it, where did he go?!” Russell demanded. He didn’t get an answer, though, because Ash had doubled over when the warlock vanished, the rush of power making him dizzy. “Ash? Hey, Ash!” Russell yelped, and then there were arms around Ash, holding him steady, and another pair of hands, Fallon’s, smoothed down his back and carded through his hair. “What did that sick bastard do to you?” Russell asked.
“Nothing.” Ash gasped out, reaching out with both hands for his sibling. “But he’s gonna- Need to stop him.”
“What can we do?” Fallon asked, calm and serious. She always managed to sooth Ash when he got worked up thanks to his sensitivity to magic. Ash managed to get a hand around Fallon’s arm, and her own hold on him tightened in response. “Talk to us, Ash.” She pressed.
“He’s gone back- Back to when our pack was still broken, like in Pops’ stories.” Ash managed to explain. “He’s going to try and break us before we were even whole. We need to- They’re not ready to deal with someone like him, not back then. We have to help. We have to go after him and stop him.”
“Can you do that?” Fallon asked.
Ash took a couple of steadying breaths, and Russell finally caught hold of his other hand. “I have to.” He answered, letting the knowledge that this was the only solution fill him to the brim. This was the only answer, the only way to save his pack, and he would do it, whether or not it was possible.
The magic in his veins swelled in response to his determination, his will. It sang within him, within his brother and sister, even in the air around him. It pulsed with his heartbeat, cocooned them, and then they were gone, leaving only a shockwave of power that flattened the grass all the way through the clearing and knocked down a tree or two. They left one battlefield behind, and stepped into one of another sort entirely.