Everwild (The Healer Series, #1)

Everwild

by: Kayla Jo

Copyright © 2013 by Kayla Jo

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written
permission of the publisher.

This e-book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events of persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This e-book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This e-book 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.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Warning: This is the first book in The Healer
Series and may be left open ended. This book may contain some
language and intimate situations. Thank you.

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

Table of
Contents

Chapter 1-The Witches of Southwick Manor

Chapter 2-The party

Chapter 3-Toil and Trouble

Chapter 4-Bunches and Barrels

Chapter 5-The Faker

Chapter 6-School for Ghouls

Chapter 7-Chase

Chapter 8-Dokkaebi-napped

Chapter 9-The Neutral Zone

Chapter 10-The Crystal Cave

Chapter 11-The Ball

Chapter 12-The Arena

Chapter 13-What Dreams May Come

Chapter 14-The Devil Within

Chapter 15-Saved by Wolves

Chapter 16-The Deadlands

Bonus:

Declan’s Point of View-The Party

The Deadlands: Chapter 1

“Oh Willow! Wake up, love!” A soft voice sung
with taunting amusement, interrupting the silence of the bedroom.
When there was no response, the now irritated voice spoke louder.
“You better wake up right away, dear! It’s not everyday a young
witch turns sixteen, you know. Oh, we have so much to do to get
ready for Hekate! Isn’t it wonderful how the Head Prophesier is
coming to our home in honor of you! Ah, she is truly an inspiration
to us all….Willow?” the voice sighed unhappily, “Willow, dear, are
you listening?”

The small lump beneath the warm cotton
blanket moved only slightly in acknowledgement. Suddenly, a bright
light invaded the dark bedroom. Willow groaned, the lull of sleep
pulling heavily at her. Her eyes slowly slit open to peek at the
intruder. “I see…a bright light…” she muttered groggily looking up
at the dull white ceiling. “This is it! I’m dead! I’m dead!” Her
eyes moved to glance at the owner of the voice, “Don’t you know
it’s rude to wake the dead, Pertussia?”

“Oh Willow,” Pertussia scolded, putting her
hands on her hips. “Must we start the theatrics today of all days?”
Willow just smirked, thinking how funny it was that when Pertussia
tried to sound upset, it still came across as being dulcet and
sweet. Pertussia could never really yell or make anyone mad. She
was good natured down to her very soul.

A dainty hand touched her shoulder and Willow
gazed up into soft, beautiful green eyes. Pertussia smiled down at
her, her long blonde hair fell from her shoulders to tickle her
face. “Happy Birthday Willow,” she said softly, smiling radiantly.
The light touched Pertussia’s hair and accentuated her beautiful
features. At this angle, Willow could see soft freckles dusting the
tops of her pink cheeks and she felt the sting of jealously at the
beauty of her sister.

Pertussia was above Willow in rank and power.
As a First Degree witch in the Southwick Coven, Willow’s powers
were not fully developed, not by a long shot. She was still in
training, as she had been from an early age, learning spells and
how to utilize the magic residing inside her. Willow had finally
passed the test to earn her talisman, a magical object used to
control, manipulate, and strengthen her magic, coveted by all
Firsts. Willow wouldn’t become a Second degree like Pertussia for
quite some time, but it was still a step in the right
direction.

“Come, Willow,” Pertussia persisted. “You
must get ready, dear. The others are waiting for you. We still have
a bit of shopping to do, you know,” she grinned waving her hand and
fluttered out of the room as if she were walking on air, letting
Willow get ready for the day. Tonight, there would be a grand
ceremony to celebrate her achievement. One that she was not looking
forward to.

Willow jumped out of her bed and headed to
the closet. She didn’t own anything stylish. Jeans, t-shirts, more
jeans, oh! There was a dress! She pulled it out and grimaced,
suddenly wishing she had never found it in the first place. Long,
black, with sheer sleeves that looked like wings, it was repulsive.
The only dress Willow owned was not a dress at all. It was like
something Morticia from the Addams Family would wear. It was a good
thing her sisters were letting her purchase a more appropriate
dress for this evening. It
was
her birthday, after all.

After putting on her casual attire, Willow
headed to the bathroom. Her dark auburn hair was unruly from
sleeping on it. It spiraled naturally and could look good when she
actually took the time to do it, but a simple finger comb through
would have to do for today. She stared at her dullish dark brown
eyes and average looking pale face in the mirror, once again
wishing she looked more like Pertussia. There wasn’t anything
special about her.

Concentrating on her magic, the familiar tug
in her stomach stirred and sizzled within her body, the reaction
feeling like static electricity running all over her. She was
charging herself to conduct magic. Slowly, her hair changed to a
pretty honey blonde. Next, she focused on her eyes. The right had
changed to blue while the other turned green. She huffed
impatiently. It wasn’t the look she was going for. When she tried
harder, a deep twist in her abdomen made her stomach cramp, forming
a huge knot in her gut. Willow keeled over in pain and released the
magic. It burst forth in waves of energy out of her, her features
instantly changed back to normal. The mirror on the wall took the
impact and shattered into a million tiny pieces, flying all around
her in a shower of twinkling glass.

She had no time to react and a piece hit her
forearm, cutting a small gash where it struck her flesh. She was
stunned watching the blood swell and seep out of the wound. Upset
that something as remedial as changing her image would cause such a
reaction, Willow angrily called upon her magic once more, not sure
if healing would work without an elixir potion. Healing the body
required relentless concentration, and always with added brew. It
probably wouldn’t work, but before her eyes, the cut healed
instantly. Her skin looked perfect, and Willow wondered whether she
had even been cut in the first place, or if it had been her
imagination running wild again. It wouldn’t be the first time.
There was no scar or anything that indicated she had just been
scratched. Feeling both cocky and satisfied, Willow finished her
morning routine to get ready for the day.

Willow sauntered down the grand staircase of
their house to find three beautiful ladies staring up at her…uh
oh…in annoyance. Even though Willow technically had no family, she
called the other witches in the Coven her older sisters. They were
all wearing long cloaks that reached the floor and beautiful turn
of the century dresses. Willow rolled her eyes. Second Degrees;
they always thought they were better than everyone, trying to outdo
each other in beauty and old school fashion. They had no desire to
change their style to fit in with the times. This little trip to
town would be very interesting as they only went when absolutely
necessary.

Pertussia was closest to her, looking like an
angel in an all white flowing gown and cloak. She looked like a
winter queen with her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.
Next to her, Pandora, the oldest of the Seconds, also looked rather
stunning. She wore a scarlet gown with gold detail and a black
cloak. You couldn’t tell where her black hair ended and the cloak
began as they blended so well together. Her big blue eyes fell on
Willow and softened a little, but not by much. Pandora was the
authoritative figure of the household, seeming cold and distant
most of the time. It looked like at the moment, Pandora would be
cordial as today was Willow’s big day. The third, youngest and
shortest of the three witches before her was Portia-Anna. She was
slender, like the other two, but looked completely different with
her long purple hair and violet colored eyes. Of course, she made
herself look this way, but Portia-Anna was still beautiful
nonetheless.

“Took you long enough, dear,” Pertussia was
the first to address the young witch with a bright smile as she
fluffed her dress and pulled up her satin gloves to her elbows.
Pandora just looked perturbed at having to wait and Portia-Anna
stuck her tongue out jokingly.

“We have got to do something with that
wardrobe of yours,” Pandora said dully looking her up and down as
if assessing an ugly bug that needed squishing. She never approved
of Willow’s jeans and t-shirts, insisting she should wear a gown
and cloak. But Willow wasn’t born in colonial times, was over 100
years old, and adamantly refused every time it was suggested. “We
cannot have you look like a beggar on the streets for Hekate.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Dora,” Willow
smiled condescendingly as Pandora narrowed her eyes in a hateful
glare. Pandora loathed the nickname she’d given her, and threatened
her once or twice that she’d turn her into a toadstool if she
didn’t stop, but it was just empty threats. Pandora would never
cause harm to one in the Coven, especially Willow, the youngest and
only First in the Southwick Coven. According to the sisters, Willow
was extremely valuable among the magic casters. What that meant,
she had no idea, and they never elaborated on it, even with
Willow’s relentless begging and bribing. So she did what she did
best: milked it for all it was worth.

“Happy Birthday, Willow,” Portia-Anna came up
to her and gave her a big hug. She was just as good natured as
Pertussia, but was a bit more on the wild side. She didn’t care
what Pandora thought of her either. She often pulled silly pranks
on her, with Willow’s enthusiastic participation, of course. It was
probably the reason why Willow liked her so much. Portia-Anna was
the fun, easygoing one.

“Thank you,” Willow said and stood back
watching the Seconds closely, then batted her eyelashes. “So…” she
said as lovingly and with as much emphasis as possible, “since it’s
my birthday and all, I was thinking now would be a great time to
tell me what my talisman is--“

“Not a chance, Willow,” Pandora cut her off
instantly and adjusted the brooch to the cloak near her neck. “Your
impatience is infuriating. Why do you ask questions you already
know the answer to?”

“Oh, come on,” Willow whined, “I know you all
know what it is. What’s so grand about Hekate being the one to give
it to me? Why can’t I just have it now? I’ve earned it!”

There was a loud gasp and Willow turned to
see Pertussia’s hand covering her mouth in shock. Willow was always
called the “drama queen” of the house, but she didn’t think that
was entirely true. In her mind, Pertussia was the very essence of
the word drama. “Oh, darling,” Pertussia said and looked at Willow
like she was a stranger, “Hekate is the Head Prophesier! The Queen!
She is the most powerful of our kind, the
only
one who has
the right to give it you. She is all that--”

“Yes, yes, we all know, Pertussia,”
Portia-Anna cut her off. “We just don’t worship the ground she
walks on like you do,” she looked back at Willow and smirked. “Our
Willow here is just curious. Don’t we all remember how it was when
we got our talismans? I believe you couldn’t stop bouncing off the
walls, Pertussia.” Pertussia turned her head away snobbishly.
Willow enjoyed watching the dynamics between the three sisters.
Portia-Anna continued on, “Now can we please drop the issue and go
shopping so we can come back and get beautified? All the handsome
warlocks are going to want to get a look at all this,” she wiggled
her body, “and I can’t possibly look good unless we stop this
chattering and go! Of course, I always look good, but it’s the fact
of the matter, really…”