Page 1 of A World Enough

Prologue

Brogan Filtiaran was blinded by a flash of light. There was a roaring wind all around as she was violently tumbled, like she was caught in a hurricane.

“Brogan. Brogan!” a voice screamed over and over.

But the loud noise rushing past her ears began to drown the voice out. For once she cursed her werewolf super hearing. She thought she would never get out of this alive, whatever kind of situation she was in.

Was she going up or down? Brogan had no idea.

Panic was beginning to take over, and her mind began to flick through her memories like a book. Was her life flashing before her eyes?

First came a flurry of early memories—being a young wolf, playing with her friends and her brother in the seashore beside the Irish Filtiaran wolf pack land. Swimming, diving, as the Irish wolves loved to do—they weren’t called the sea wolves for nothing.

But as the memories got faster, they took her into her late teens and young adulthood. She got further away from her family, her pack in Ireland, until it didn’t feel like home any more. Brogan watched her brother become Alpha and ask her to become one of his closest advisors and warriors, but he had his own second, his own friends, and she felt out of place.

Brogan couldn’t explain it even now, but she’d felt something pulling her since then. A tugging feeling driving her towards a home that she couldn’t find.

Then her memories whisked her to Paris, after she left home and chose to become a lone wolf and use her were skills as a tracker and private investigator.

The wind buffeted her around and into a tailspin, which whirred her memories to just before whatever this was happened to her. She was in a place called the Evergreen. She was in a large grassy area, where everything was still. The sun was shining, and this place was peaceful and secluded from the outside world.

The one unusual feature of the Evergreen was the ring of portals that circled the space. Brogan and her friends found themselves here to stop a powerful witch called Anka. Anka was trying to bring the malevolent ancient Celtic God Balor back from his prison in the void, where Balor’s own people had banished him.

Brogan’s friends in the paranormal community believed it was their responsibility to defeat him. Byron, the head of the Debrek family of vampires, recruited Brogan to help, and then friendly werewolf packs, witches, shifters, and fae came together to stop Anka and Balor.

Then Brogan’s final memory flashed before her. In the melee of Balor being sent back through to his prison portal, he lashed out and sent Brogan flying through another portal and into this stormy tempest.

Was Brogan’s future to be like Balor’s, endlessly drifting in this space? Maybe she was in a prison too.

Just as she had that last thought, Brogan’s body hit the ground with a big thump. All of the air was expelled from her lungs.

Chapter One

“Shit,” Brogan said, then began coughing and trying to catch her breath.

When she did start to calm her breathing, she felt grass beneath her fingertips and saw the sun beating down on her. She let out a large sigh of relief.

“I’m on Earth, I’m on Earth. Thank Goddess.”

Then a wave of nausea hit her so hard that she rolled over on her side and vomited.

“Shit.” It was like she had been tossed in a tumble dryer.

When she looked up, Brogan saw a long stream, surrounded on each side by thick forest. She got up and stumbled over to the water for a drink.

It was then Brogan noticed that this was no ordinary stream. Every yard or so there was a different coloured whirlpool, a bit like the portals she and Balor were flung into. She walked by a few and felt very uneasy. This place where she found herself was so still.

Unearthly still.

No birds in the trees, no animal calls, just the sound of the running water. What was this place? This was not Earth, was it?

Just as she was gathering her thoughts, a blur moved towards her. On reflex she took a step back and stumbled into one of the whirlpools. Brogan was tossed around as she had been before, then again whacked to the grassy ground.

“Fuck,” Brogan said as the wind was knocked out of her again.

At least this time she heard the songs of birds, the calling of animals. She was somewhere more natural.

Brogan rested on all fours a minute, to try to regain her balance, but then the hackles on the back of her neck stood up.