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05/25/2020 06:24 PM
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The Obsidian Wolf ft. Nola Reine
Revolutionary
For days the vision of the obsidian wolf lingered in Jackson’s mind. Like a siren that lured sailors to watery graves, she was mystical and majestic. It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed that she scurried off. He’d had an inclination to shift and follow her, but he didn’t want to frighten her. He’d hoped she’d come back. Replaying the scene in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder if his mind could have been playing tricks. Maybe she was nothing more than a mother wolf looking for her young. He had been drinking that night and it was a well known fact that moonshine would do a number on your ass far worse than tequila. But the memory and familiarity was just too vivid, even to be a lucid dream. The scent of her told him that she wasn’t just a wolf that’d lost her way. She was like him, less the hybrid vampire bullsh*t. She was a werewolf laced with a little something extra. The curiosity was throwing him off his game. A distraction that he liked, but damn sure didn’t need.
So many questions swirled in his mind and he knew the answers would probably raise more questions. This mystery wolf had him searching the bayou, but he wasn’t hunting her. He’d given orders to his betas to let him know if they saw her. There was a dangerous threat at hand, a rogue exiled alpha, and while she could probably take care of herself, finding her mauled was the last thing he’d want. What he wanted was to see her again, warn her of the dangers of running free without a pack, find out where she belonged and why she was there. He felt a need to protect her.
“You daydreamin’ about her again?”
Oliver’s smartass albeit annoying voice broke Jackson’s concentration.
“No. I don’t daydream. Too busy for that.”
“Could’ve fooled me. Lookin’ all starry eyed and sh*t.”
“Shut the f*** up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She ain’t real man, you were drunker than sh*t, passed out in the woods out there and dreamed you up a girlfriend that would suck your...”
“OLIVER! That’s enough! And mind your damn business. Whatever it is you’re thinking about, is the last thing on my mind.” Leaving the conversation, Jackson headed back into the woods. There was no doubt Jackson loved Ollie like a brother, but there were times that he was overly intrusive and abrasive. Almost undomesticated. You couldn’t trust him not to piss on your floor. Oliver was also unaware of a dirty secret Jackson had been keeping, which was quite the feat considering pack mentality and the scent. Although, the scent could’ve easily gone unnoticed considering it was pretty familiar to the pack.
Back to the threat, Jackson had Aiden and Oliver on it. All three of them scouted the surrounding woods looking for traces. They’d known the rogue had been there after finding one of their elders clinging to life. The elder known as Chartres was barely breathing when they found him. He held on just long enough to tell Jackson of the attack, describe the man who did it and give details about his plan to steal pack members one by one. Seemed like a cowardly thing to do in a Jackson’s opinion... go for the weakest and run off before the big dogs came out to play. No one would be stealing any members of the Crescents. Not on Jackson’s watch, not today, not ever. The first attack slipped through the cracks. There would be no second. Another reason this lone female wolf had no business roaming his woods.
Through his peripheral vision, Jack caught sight Aiden’s younger brother along with his best friend. Sticking together as they’d been instructed to do, they were now reporting back. Shifting in unison, they described what they saw and where they saw it. Before either of them could finish, Jackson was a blur, following the scent of their path. Upon arriving at the scene, he stood in silent observation. To most people, he might come off as intimidating, standing a little over 6’, clad in lumberjackish attire consisting of his usual flannel plaid button down, jeans and hiking boots. The scent, once again familiar... She turned to face him, finding his brooding demeanor become somewhat dumbfounded before ultimately softening to intrigue.
She was small in stature, her delicate face framed by dark hair and brows. Thick long lashes surrounded her onyx eyes... it was her, the obsidian wolf. He knew before she even spoke her name. His cognac gaze gave her a once over, probably longer than he should have. When she spoke her name, confusion washed over his rugged features. Lescheres, one of the ancestral bloodlines, but they were no more. To his knowledge, they’d all passed. He was the only surviving Kenner and now that Eve was gone, Hayley was the only Labonair to his knowledge. “How?.....” It was the only word he could muster for the moment, until he found his footing. “Sorry... I’m Jackson Kenner. I don’t mean to be rude, but I need you trust me when I say you’re not safe and you need to come with me.”
Reaching for her hand, he led her to the old shack that was now used for interrogations. He’d fixed it up a little, giving it a new roof, replacing some siding planks, a new floor and a coat of paint. It wasn’t anything as nice as the cabin he’d built for himself, but he wasn’t going to lead her to the heart of his people. “As far as I know, the last of the Leschares family ceased to exist late 19th Century, and because I don’t sense dishonesty here, I’m not sure I understand the mechanisms of you standing in front of me.” Although it wasn’t that far fetched, he, himself was a product of witchcraft or else he’d still be dead. Every time he looked at her he felt bewitched. For that reason, he adverted her gaze. “You’re part witch. But who brought you back and why?” It wasn’t an accusation or condemnation. It was an observation.
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05/20/2020 10:05 PM
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Prompt “kiss” - 7 Mins. in Heaven (comedy) ft. Bar Fight
Revolutionary
This is a writing prompt for Bar Fight (Hayley), “kiss”. Taking a ride on the AU Way Back Train, Hayley is going to be a freshman in high school and Jackson is going to be a senior.
Summer was coming to an end and the new school year would soon be getting underway. This was the last weekend before Jackson’s Friday nights would be occupied with high school football and jamborees. He was stoked to have received an invitation from his crush Rebekah Mikaelson to her lavish mansion for an end of summer soiree. This was gonna be his moment to finally ask her out. He was going to be the star quarterback and she was captain of the cheer squad. They were meant to be. What could go wrong?
Instead of his typical flannel plaid get up, Jackson opted for a black fitted oxford, untucked, with rolled sleeves. Impressing this girl was as important as winning the state football championship. His Ford F-250 4x4 was gassed up and freshly washed. He just had to pick up Aiden and they’d be on their way. Aiden was his ride or die, his wingman. There wasn’t much they wouldn’t do for each other, even if that meant killing and hiding the bodies. No one knew the curse he and Aiden bore that would transform them into apex predators on the full moon. Fortunately, the full moon was waning.
Their arrival was somewhat ill timed and out of place, a lifted 4x4 with a gun rack amidst a sea of foreign luxury sedans. Before walking in the door Aiden handed him a condom. “The hell man? What am I supposed to do with this?” Aiden whispered back, “It goes on your...” “The f***, I know that! I’ve used them before. I just don’t know what you think I plan on doing tonight. She’s looking for Mr. Right, not Mr. Right Now. Damn.”
Upon entering the door, Jackson was a little mesmerized by the size and contents of the house. Afraid to touch anything, he knew the entire pack would be in debt if anything was broken. A ruckus was going down in the living room, chicks giggling, guys with ‘ohs and ahs’. The scene unfolded with a bottle spinning and as he drew closer, it stopped, pointing at him. Laughter erupted as his cognac gaze came to lock on Hayley Marshall, a girl from is pack. What even was she doing there? The answer to that question was evident as Bekah’s nerdy brother Eli made oogly eyes at her from a distance. Jackson’s cheeks warmed to a soft shade of crimson as he was shuffled into a dark closet and pushed into this young girl, forcing their lips to meet. Awkward...
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05/20/2020 09:13 PM
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Revenge is Best Served with Fava Beans and a Nice Chianti...
Revolutionary
(This is a drabble I wrote and posted a few months ago. It deviates from my usual “good guy” demeanor and is rather dark. *Trigger warning.*)
Crowds traipsed the streets, wandering aimlessly to take in all of the sights, sounds and tastes of New Orleans. At the corner of St. Ann and Bourbon Street stood Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, enticing tourists with the allure of authentic voodoo charms and questionable characters ready and willing to offer a spell or a curse for the right price. This was not the typical magic of New Orleans witches. This was dark ominous magick with the intent to do harm. If you knew the right words, you’d be granted access past the facade of the tourist trap and into the den of a high voodoo priestess. The words l' Ile en Bas d'l' Eaux were not taken lightly by the Creole. It took deep seeded roots and historical knowledge to use them in the right place in the correct capacity to one’s advantage. It was a key of sorts, but to a curious amateur it could unlock a Pandora’s box, yielding results of a lifetime of pain and anguish.
Managing to make it through the city low key and unnoticed, Jackson sat at the alter of Laveau descendants, ready to pay the price for the one thing he desired most... The spell would brainwash and zombify the remaining Strix to do his bidding by manipulating a voodoo doll. The stage was set. Tristan’s own people would recover him from his watery torture, pump him full of Jackson’s own venom rendering him powerless and weak, and bring him to the bayou for Jackson to play judge, jury and executioner as a reminder of treason to the factions of New Orleans. Gagged and tied to be quartered, Tristan was put on display for the remaining members of the Strix and the entire Crescent pack to witness what was about to unfold. Jackson had waited for this day, carefully and methodically planning each detail, right down to the tungsten carbide chains used for binding.
“That burning sensation coursing through your veins is my venom. Unless I choose to show you mercy with a swift death, you will die slowly and painfully, but either way, you will die by my hand. Do you remember that day Tristan? When you pumped Hayley and I full of wolfsbane to render us helpless so you could face us at our weakest like the coward you are? How does it feel to have the tables turned?” With the gag in place, there wasn’t much he could say. Still, Jackson taunted. “What’s that? Where is Aurora? Let me tell you... I relentlessly fvcked your sister in every position imaginable, making her scream my name in her passionate oblivion while she quivered tightly around me over and over again until she pathetically begged me for more. And when I was done defiling her, I ripped her insides out and fed them to my pack.”
The anguish on Tristan’s face was worth more than the satisfaction of killing him, but Jackson was not about to let him go. “If it’s any consolation to you, you’re about to be reunited...” Plunging his fist deep into Tristan’s chest, Jackson’s hand gripped his heart, lingering while staring into the eyes of his murderer. He pulled the heart out, veins and arteries snapping, sending the scent of blood in the air. Waiting for his signal, the pack was salivating, fangs drawn, eager for a taste of revenge. With the wave of his hand, they were on Tristan and his remaining society of blood thirsty fiends, devouring them as if they were rare steak. Indeed they were, the more ancient a vampire, the better he or she tasted. Like an aged fine wine. Jackson tossed the heart over his shoulder, into the hungry mob to be eaten. When the sh*t show was over, he collected any trace of remnants, burned them and buried the ashes in a shallow grave, marked only by a large river stone.
Jerking awake, he sat up in the bed, reaching for the ringing phone. His voice was distant while he analyzed the nightmare. It was getting worse; more vivid and detailed each time it occurred. The darkness brought back with him upon his resurrection was growing. “Vincent, I’m not fine. I know I said I was, but I’m not... The impulses are getting harder to control. Whatever this darkness is, it’s spreading within me.” Vincent wanted to see him ASAP. Jackson wasted no time, getting dressed and heading out the door. He passed two river stones as got into his truck. Unmarked shallow graves; one containing the ashes of what used to be Tristan, and the one next to it... Aurora.
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05/20/2020 02:10 PM
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Seduce Prompt - Bar Fight
Revolutionary
The scent of his betrothed was unmistakably drawing closer. Jackson sobered quickly, giving Aiden a warning stare... “Shhh... Hayley’s coming. This is the kind of sh*t she doesn’t need to hear.” Locker room talk they called it, loosely defined as a brotherhood past time consisting of boasting of conquests and sexual exploits laced with profanity and a dusting of talking sh*t about how LSU would beat Alabama again this year, which was wishful thinking considering Joe Burrow trickled out into the NFL. This was not to be conducted in front of the ladies, otherwise violating the ‘Bro Code.’
Silence met her as she approached, giving an unmistakeable awkwardness that they’d been up to no good. Her petite frame unexpectedly plopped into Jackson’s lap, barely missing the family jewels causing him to drop his longneck bottle onto the deck. “Damn Hales!” Any other day of the week they avoided each other — she not wanting to deal with commitment and he knowing she was too young. “Replace your ex? The fact that you even have an ex to begin with is exponentially in the wrong equation.” A slight smirk played at his features as he eluded to good ol’ Eli.
Hayley was right, as well as being the star quarterback, he’d done well academically, graduating at the top is his class. “I’ll help you, Hayley. But you have to pay attention. I ain’t doing it for you. I’ll teach you so you can do it for yourself. Give a man a fish, he eats for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll never go hungry.” He was certain his philosophical ideation went over her young head. “Where is your textbook?” He gave Aiden a side glance, “I’ll talk to Allie later...”
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05/18/2020 03:59 PM
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Pack Mentality aka The Obsidian Wolf - Nola Reine
Revolutionary
It was mid-May and an unusually cool night for this time of year in the south. A breeze picked up closer to the open water, which was one of the many reasons Jackson had chosen to settle the pack closer to where the Mississippi River poured into the Gulf of Mexico. The estuary of brackish water provided a variety of both fresh and saltwater fish and various seafood, all of which had made New Orleans famous for Cajun cuisine. There wasn’t much the resourceful environment couldn’t provide, including a natural layer of defense of forest critters and swamp beasts. The rules of the pack afforded the members to come and go as they pleased, but visitors had to be approved by either Aiden, Oliver or himself. It was, after all, his job to keep them safe and the perimeter secure.
The pack mentality was built on loyalty, respect, honor, integrity and of course, love. Jackson had his own moral code and way of doing things. While he honored tradition, he was also progressive, realizing that in order to move forward and be successful, a certain amount of change and sacrifice had to be allotted. He was a revolutionary of sorts. Without this vision, his pack would still be suppressed under the thumb of the vampires and witches. Currently, he had an accord with all of the factions. For the most part, he’d made allies of the Mikaelsons. There were, however, times that Klaus in particular would grate on his nerves. Over the years they had developed a love/hate relationship and often showed up at the last minute to save each other’s asses. Fatherhood had evolved Klaus, giving him an understanding that his daughter’s ancestral history belonged in all of their lives, tying them together.
All that aside, Jackson’s mood orbited the phases of the moon. During the full moon, he was a brooding pain in the ass. He was able to control shifting, but the full moon posed an uneasiness within all of them, a time when they craved a sustenance that often resulted in death and destruction... blood. For him, this was compounded by the fact that he had a gnawing craving for the sanguine fluid at any given time due to his hybrid nature. A full moon with no casualties was a miraculous feat. He was bred to be a cold-blooded killer and was often trying to fight back a beast that dwelled within to keep it contained. Having endured his own death and resurrection, there was both a light and darkness embedded in his cells that were at a constant civil war. While he was extremely disciplined with impeccable self-control, not all of them were. They were animals, after all.
While the pack congregated on the banks of the bayou surrounding a fire and enjoying one another’s company with a round of beer, Jackson was pacing the woods, his mind burdened with an exchange of words in a heated debate. The moon was in its waning phase, which should have eased the tension, but given some recent events, he was on the edge and perhaps hunting something… anything. A need to kill. For the most part, he was very level headed, but there was no doubt he had a stubborn streak and when he lost his sh*t, it was bad. He had a hard time finding a way out of the proverbial hole he’d dug. The words to Breaking Benjamin’s Far Away played through his mind as he stopped and stood at the water’s edge deep in thought, the stars overhead casting a reflection reminiscent of an endless galaxy.
These woods were home to him. As a majestic gray wolf, he could run through them blinded and know his way around every part. As a human, his eyes weren’t as sharp in the dark, but his hearing and smell were faultless. The wind kissed his rugged tanned features, bringing with it a new yet somewhat familiar scent interrupting his train of thought. It didn’t smell like danger, but it was an intruder, signaling him into high alert... A stranger to their pack. Following the scent on foot, he recognized the tracks in the silt as belonging to a wolf, female, unknown to him. But how was that possible considering he was the alpha and knew every wolf in the region for hundreds of miles? The answer to that question brought more questions as he stumbled upon the petite black wolf. Her obsidian gaze bore into him like a deer in headlights, seeming both curious and cautious. Her presence in his bayou distracted him from his angst. Was it a trap? Was she friend or foe? Extending his hand, Jackson drew closer to her, taking a knee so his height didn’t appear as intimidating. “I’m not going to hurt you… And you don’t seem lost. But you’re sort of trespassing and I have questions.” She didn’t really owe him anything, but it was his job to protect his people and he didn’t know who she was, why she was there or who may have sent her. An interrogation was inevitable.
“I promise, no one here will hurt you. If you’re hurt, or you need help, you’ve come to the right place, but something tells me you weren’t looking for us and you’re just as surprised to see me as I am to see you.” Careful not to frighten her, he slowly extended a hand to gain her trust. When she didn’t budge, he gently brushed his fingers through her fur, marveling at her rare color and lack of markings. “Perhaps we could talk?” For that to happen, she’d have to shift, a rather agonizing undertaking.
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05/14/2020 03:16 PM
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Breath of Life Reply - Bar Fight
Revolutionary  At least eight years had passed between Jackson’s death and his resurrection; an agonizing time that he’d spent in some hellish purgatory rather than a peaceful afterlife. Whether it was something he’d done during his lifetime to deserve that or some hex the Strix pulled out of their ass with some witches, he hadn’t a clue, but he was damn sure glad not be there anymore and he had Vincent to thank for it. Another eight or so years had passed between Jack’s resurrection and Hayley’s untimely death. During that time, Hayley knew nothing of his existence. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her or want to be with her, but she’d moved on after his death, seemed happy with her life and he wasn’t going to take that away from her. As the saying went, if you love something let it go… and all that jazz. Moving on as well, Jackson quietly took the wolves deeper into the bayou where they’d constructed an elaborate community and lived peacefully in their society. While he kept an elusive presence to the outside world, it was under Jack’s leadership and guidance to his council that led to the alliances with the other factions allowing them all to coexist in peace… for now. More than two months had passed since Hayley’s mysterious reappearance in the bayou. During that time, she and Jackson had managed to reconcile their marriage, learn some interesting albeit concerning side effects of resurrection, break some furniture and take a few amazing vacations. Jack had sought the guidance of the elders in the pack regarding the endurance of marriage vows, the unification ritual and death of both spouses, and while it was determined that he and Hayley were still married, he’d proposed to her anyway in a grand gesture of making it official to renew their vows. The pack would continue to recognize them as husband and wife, but renewing their vows would give it the extra oomph to really seal the deal for everyone. Afternoon wolf runs and naps were becoming a norm. Hayley needed the stability of daily rituals and this was one of her favorite. While she preferred to embrace her wolf form, Jackson’s human form served him best as the alpha, but he indulged her. His nap came to an abrupt end when Hayley decided to pounce. His first instinct was that she was in trouble and he took a defense stance, snarling and ready to attack. She came barreling at him like Tigger, sending them rolling down the hill locked together, tough and tumble in a blur of fur and leaves. When they came to a halt, he was confused, looking for the danger. His gaze met her golden hues, finding the humor there as she chuckled returning to her human form. Her bare ass was the view against the backdrop of their waterfall as he also returned to his human form to join her for a swim. “Not funny Hales. I thought you were in trouble. I was ready to rip someone’s throat out…” The water in the spring was clear so that the bottom was visible at several feet deep and the temp was perfect for a refreshing dip. Getting a running start, he dove in, coming up behind her to gently bite her shoulder. While his feet could touch the bottom, hers could not. He held her up, turning her to face him while trailing kisses over neck. The sound of breaking sticks beneath walking feet caught his attention; his head shot up, his gaze scanning the area. “Well, well, well, look what we have here…” Oliver’s smartass antics coupled with Aiden’s laughter ravaged his mood. This was their private spot and these fools were intruding. Jackson lowered his head sighing in defeat. “Hayley, where are your clothes? I’ll get them.”
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05/12/2020 03:12 PM
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Guard Prompt Pt. 2 - Burn the Witch
Revolutionary
“We wanted to stay off the radar. That’s why your mom hadn’t mentioned what we’ve been doing out here. You are her first priority. Then the pack. So you can imagine how pissed she’d be if she knew what you’ve been doing. And no, Hope, I do not have any moonshine… Not for you anyway.” His homemade moonshine, though very tasty, was stronger than any bottled alcohol on the market. You can have half a glass of your mom’s wine if you want, but you didn’t get it from me.” Jackson wasn’t sure of the rules her bio-dad set for her in the compound and while he didn’t want to impose, he didn’t want to be too restrictive either. He wanted to be the third party that listened and understood. Not that there was much that an adult alpha male hybrid could understand about a teenage female tribred and any troubles with her peers.
The broken bed in the room down the hall was visible through an open door. It wasn’t something Jack wanted Hope to see, but he’d not expected her to show up in the bayou today and he’d not had time to dispose of it. While she preoccupied herself with her mother’s wine selection, he went into stealth mode slipping down the hall to shut the door hoping she’d not notice his absence. Sure enough Hope’s gaze met him with disdain. “I… uh… Aiden got a little out of hand the other night after a rendezvous with the moonshine. He thought the bed was an intruder…” Obviously she knew he was lying, but perhaps she could appreciate the details spared of what he’d done with her mother in that bed.
“I’m sure things are very different now than what they were when I was growing up. Social media has given rise to instant gratification when it comes to stirring drama. The he said/she said, mean girl clique or whatever. Klaus is a basket case because of his many enemies lurking. I get it… things are sh*t. But I want you to know that you’re safe out here. You’re an extension of your mother, who is an alpha of our people. Despite the Crescents’ distaste for your father at times, we’ve made leaps and bounds in coming together as allies to keep you safe, as well as our people, both werewolves and vampires. And while I’m old and just probably wouldn’t get it or whatever… I’m a good listener if there’s something on your mind. I’m a little curious as to what brought you out this far when there are plenty of bars on Bourbon Street that you could’ve found trouble in. This sort of seems like a cry for help…”
A knock on the door announced the intrusion of Aiden, per the usual… barreling in without waiting for someone to answer the door. Jackson quickly put himself between the beta wolf and Hope. He knew Aiden wouldn’t hurt her and was simply curious of the scent he picked up nearby, but Hope wasn’t used to their way of living. Jackson’s home was open to everyone in the pack at all times. Well, most times. He was used to people coming by unannounced. “Aiden, you remember Hope? Hope… Aiden, my second in command.”
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04/19/2020 01:39 PM
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Guard Prompt - Burn the Witch
RevolutionaryMaking his way into the canteen with commanding strides, the music stopped. The atmosphere turned ominous. “Hope Mikaelson... in the truck, now.” A half drunk patron grabbed her arm and Jackson was at her side in an instant inserting himself between her and the gruff Cajun. “I’m not looking for any trouble in front of the lady. You will kindly unhand her.” His command followed with a low supernatural growl, the irises of his eyes flashing a bright golden yellow. The man nearly cowered as he released Hope’s arm. “Go, now, to the truck.” Jackson followed behind, nodding to the bouncer and bartender on his way out. Once in the truck, he refrained from saying much, as he thought she would be expecting a lecture from him. Truth was, while he had a slight hand in raising her, he didn’t want to be the parent that lectured her. He’d rather be the parent that she came to and trusted for advice. His approach was going to be different. “I know life in the compound can be difficult. I’ve been there. Your mom and I lived there together for a time, shortly after we were married. I know things haven’t exactly gone as anyone had planned and I’m sorry for that. Do you want to talk about it?” Something had to be going on for her to act out in such a way. He took a turn down a road she wouldn’t recognize, driving past the old shack of a cabin he used to live in. In the years since he’d been resurrected, he’d taken the pack deeper into the bayou. The old shacks and trailers still stood and they used them for training exercises and lookouts. “Hang on darlin, it’s about to get bumpy.” Shifting into four wheel drive, the truck entered a rough terrain of swamp, sand and boggy waters before coming to a stop in the middle of nowhere. “We don’t live in the shacks no more. Trust me when I tell you that you’re safe, and you’re among your people. You can call your dad when we get to my place. Or not. You’re welcome to stay if you want.” He led her through tall grass trails and a dense cover of pines before coming to a hidden clearing revealing a quaint little community of log cabins along the shore of the bayou that the Crescent pack had built.  Featuring Burn the Witch as Hope
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01/01/2020 10:45 AM
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Rev’s Backstory
Revolutionary
Death. It was something most didn’t want to speak of, but at some point in their lives, everyone had to deal with it. To think of your own mortality was morbid to say the least. To be aware the moment it was happening to you, and still be aware after your body ceases to live, was anguish. Being dead was peaceful, but there was nothing peaceful about dying. Jackson had felt every ounce of pain when the fist punched through his chest, breaking ribs and squeezing his heart until he could no longer breathe. His life had not ended the moment his heart was torn from his body. He fell limp, but it took a few minutes for his body to cease circulation as he bleed out, fading into nothingness. While most went on to find their peace in the afterlife, Jackson was in a state of unrest. A sort of pre-afterlife purgatory. He knew that without a leader, the Crescent pack would be tormented and hunted to the point of extinction. And it was a damn good thing that during his life he had made more friends than enemies.
Vincent Griffith was the regent of the New Orleans coven of witches. Vincent knew the importance of leadership for each faction and the leaders’ willingness to work towards the same goal – to peacefully coexist as equals. Each of the supernatural factions had something to offer, but the vampires thought themselves to be superior over all others. For this reason, it was not only important for Jackson to be alive; it was, without a doubt, a must. Vincent had Freya collect the remnants of his battered heart that had seen way too much trauma. His ashes were a little trickier to obtain, but Davina was able to wield her magic to locate and separate them from the silt on the bayou floor. The trio worked tirelessly to prepare for the ritual that would ultimately bring the Crescent alpha back to his pack.
Very few outsiders knew about Jackson’s re-existence, and that’s just how he wanted it. He’d taken the pack deep within the bayou, leaving the abandoned shacks and trailers as a protective layer to the lavish community the pack had built under the cover of the harsh environment intruders and enemies alike would have to penetrate to find them. Lurking around his cabin or sunning on his deck, two massive American alligators, one a rare white albino, tended to congregate. Although they were not his pets, Jackson had fondly named them Boudreaux and Bocephus. These son of bitches were cold blooded killers and he afforded them the respect they deserved. He didn’t mess with them and they didn’t mess with him. The same could not be said for any intruder. Sitting on his deck with a beer in hand, Jackson felt the tension ease from his body. The full moon was finally waning. No longer did he have to worry about the genetic curse and the repercussions that came with it. He had full control over shifting, as did every other Crescent wolf, thanks to Vincent. As an honorable man with ethics much like his own, Jackson trusted Vincent with his life and to that end, they had struck an accord. In return for his resurrection and control of the curse, Jackson offered the strength and numbers of his pack whenever and wherever Vincent needed.
His mind drifted to Hayley; fond memories of their time together. He had not sought her upon his resurrection. Their marital bond had been severed upon his death and she’d gone about her life without him. He’d recently learned that she’d sacrificed herself to save Hope and wondered if she’d found her peace or, if like him, was stuck in that purgatory. Either way, he knew one thing was for certain… “Well Bo, when she realizes I’m not there with her, man she’s gonna be so pissed!”
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