7 Please, Cameron

Suddenly, the pressure is released. As the vines and flames withdraw, I immediately feel the puncture wounds on my neck and the burns on my face begin to heal. I breathe a sigh of relief as my werewolf abilities take over and my vision begins to clear. My ears are ringing slightly, but I still hear a crisp, stern voice say.

"Just what the hell is going on here?"

I look up to see none other than Alastair Malum, glaring at the bullies, his eyes flaring with light purple magic. His usually perfectly straight black hair is wildly sprawled around his shoulders, appearing windswept, as if he just came from a run. His normally passive, doll-like face is filled with pure rage, but I can't seem to focus on his anger right now. Instead, I study his appearance. I've never been this close to the boy before. Besides the bracelets I noticed this morning, he is wearing quite a lot of jewelry. His earlobes are adorned with rainbow-colored gems and a dangly star earring reaches down to touch his left shoulder. He has a diamond nose ring which shines like the North Star in a constellation of freckles. A long pendant necklace ends in a vibrant red feather, the only accent against his mostly black and grey clothing. His V-neck shirt clings to his lithe frame and I can't help but notice his toned, long legs that would fit perfectly around my waist.

"Do you have no respect for yourselves or the magic you've been blessed with?!" he practically shouts. I finch, but he isn't directing his anger at me. He's directing it at the three boys who I just now noticed are curiously frozen. Not frozen in fear, but quite literally frozen. Deron is still bending over me, his hand inches from my face, a smirk on his lips, but his eyes are wide and darting between me and Alastair. Luke's hands are still clutched in a fist, although his conjured gauntlet has dissipated, and Barrett's arms are stretched in front of himself, as if still concentrating on the vine spell that had me trapped moments ago. None of them can move their faces, only their eyes, so their expressions are locked in sadistic glee. Somehow, they still manage to convey worry in just their eyes.

I have no idea what is going on here, but I am officially in awe of Alastair Malum. I've never seen anyone use this sort of magic before. Warlocks and witches gain their power from the earth, unlike werewolves who gain power from the moon. I don't know much about magic, but I thought they just controlled elements or talked to trees. Whatever Alastair is doing has the three bullies completely incapacitated, but I don't see any manifestations of his power beyond the soft purple glow of his eyes. I look between the frozen boys and Alastair, suddenly feeling more than a little embarrassed by my currently nude state. I shuffle back from Deron's hand, grabbing my towel from the floor and wrapping it around myself quickly, but Alastair isn't even looking my direction. Instead, he just continues to lecture the immobilized boys.

"Our gifts were given to us by the Mother to protect the Earth and defend all living creatures," he states coolly. "They are not meant to be used to bully other protectors. Do I make myself clear?"

Suddenly, his eyes dim, returning to a dark violet. All three boys relax, apparently released from whatever magic Alastair used to bind them. Deron's arms fall to his sides as if made of lead and his gleeful expression is replaced by one of cold fury, but he contains it, not daring to look directly at Alastair. The boys shuffle awkwardly for a moment, none wanting to speak up first. Finally, Barrett, the youngest, squeaks out, "Are you going to tell the High Priestess about this Al?" Deron throws a glare of warning at Barrett, as if telling him to shut up. Alastair just sighs.

"I shouldn't have to threaten you guys for you to choose to do the right thing. I know that we have not always seen eye-to-eye with the werewolves in the past, but they are our allies now. We need to be working together to protect the forests, not picking fights." Alastair turns his intense stare on me for the first time. "That includes not elbowing each other in the nose, please, Cameron." I start, surprised that he knows my name. "Despite our powers, our kind can't heal as quickly as yours," he says, still addressing me, but gesturing to Luke's broken nose. Looking at the way his previously straight nose curves to the side around a swelling bruise, I realize that probably won't heal right. I nod mutely in response. He nods back once, apparently satisfied. Then he turns around and begins walking away. "Come on guys, let's get back to class."

He doesn't look back to see if the other warlocks will follow, but I suppose he doesn't need to. Apparently, in the coven, his word is law. However, as the older boys shuffle after him, I hear Deron mutter under his breath, "Fucking self-righteous mamma's boy." And then I'm left alone on the gym floor wondering what the hell just happened.