For the Best
“So we know the creature lives in the deepest part of the forest,” Mystic said. “We should be able to find tracks when it rains.”
Nero sat at the table across from Mystic, listening as he explained his ideas for tracking the beast. He traced his small claws over the the huge scars across his chest.
Mystic looked at Nero. “You don’t look well,” he said. Nero blinked, and noticed he was in a cold sweat. His hands were trembling slightly. He closed his eyes for a moment.
“I’m fine”, he said, beginning to get up from his seat. But he stopped. He felt dizzy. There was a heat in his chest. He tried to take another step, but he lost his balance. Mystic rushed over to him and caught him before he hit the floor. This wasn’t good. The feral curse had kicked in before, but Mystic knew he had to do something quickly.
“Nero, I’m taking you to the basement,” Mystic told him. Nero looked up at him, disoriented. “If you’re down there, you’ll be safe, as well as everyone else.”
Nero grabbed Mystic’s robe. “Take me down,” he whispered hoarsely.
They both made it down to the basement. Mystic settled Nero down, and brought out steel chains and cuffs. He looked back to Nero, who was on his knees and breathing heavily at this point, arms close to his chest. The scars were glowing white, the veins spreading from them.
Mystic rushed to Nero, and prepared to chain him up, until Nero raised a clawed hand to stop him.
“No!” He growled. “You have to use silver.” Mystic winced. As much as he knew silver would be more effective, it would also burn the werewolf on contact. He couldn’t do that to him.
“I’m not doing that,” Mystic told him sternly. “I-“ He was cut off as Nero grabbed him by the collar of his robe, his desperate yellow glare burning into him.
“Do you want to die?” He snarled. Mystic said nothing. “Do you want your daughter to die!?” Mystic’s blood ran cold at that. Nero looked like he was going to continue, but he groaned and covered his face, dropping to the floor. His claws left marks in the concrete. Mystic could see it all play out. No. Nero was right. He lost his wife. There was no way he was losing his Emory.
By now, Nero growled quietly, breathing slow and raspy. His body was covered in glowing white lines. A tail had grown above the waist of his pants, lashing about wildly. He looked up slowly at the mage, his glowing eyes cold and vicious. His growling increased in volume, and he threw himself at Mystic.
As if on cue, Mystic waved his hand, and suddenly glowing cuffs materialized on Nero’s wrists and ankles. What Nero said stuck with Mystic. His daughter’s safety comes first. He snapped his fingers, and Nero was brought to his knees, the chains attaching to the floor and walls. The werewolf was restrained firmly, shooting a death glare up at Mystic through his hair. He tugged at the magic chains, and roared in pain as he was electrocuted. This was much stronger than silver.
Mystic stared blankly at Nero. He roared again as the chains shot another electric current through his body as he tugged once more. Mystic could still hear Nero’s voice even through the roar of a beast. It was still Nero, yet it wasn’t. The third time Nero tugged at the chains and got electrocuted, Mystic turned away, no longer able to look at him. He had to figure this out soon.
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Here’s another story from the crossover me and @candythemew are working on. Hope you like it!