by Colt, Shyla
Bad Moon
Bad Duology Book Two
Shyla Colt
Copyright Info
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
©2019 Shyla Colt
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic or print) without permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author’s rights.
Cover Artist and Interior Formatting Dreams2media
Editor There for you Editing
Contents
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Shyla Colt
Playlist
Delicate: Taylor Swift
Girls Like You: Maroon 5
High Hopes: Panic! At the Disco
…Ready For It?: Taylor Swift
Sorry Not Sorry: Demi Lovato
Look What You Made Me Do: Taylor Swift
My Blood: TWENTY ØNE PILØTS
Bad Moon Rising: Creedence Clearwater Revival
Gasoline: Halsey
Jumpsuit: TWENTY ØNE PILØTS
Pack: a group of wild animals, especially wolves, living and hunting together.
Chapter One
Pack is protection, belonging, and acceptance. They provide a home comprised of like-minded people willing to lay down their lives for one common goal—family. The driving desire to band together, watch each other’s back, and defend against outsiders is instinctual and pure. Over time, even clean things can become corrupt. The White Creek wolves are being invaded by a cancerous growth, spreading through, decaying, destroying, and ravaging all in its wake.
Joss watched the white-robed pack members gather in front of the area where the Alpha, Ian Eberstark, would appear like royalty.
Too blind to see Ian and the White Creek compound for what they truly were, they looked to the older man for answers. He was charismatic and powerful. In his early fifties, he wore his thick salt and pepper hair pulled back from his face, showcasing a widow’s peak. Thick brows framed his bright blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones were highlighted by a neatly kept beard and thin mutton chops. Without saying a word, his presence demanded respect. Six foot four, and muscular, he cut an impressive figure and stood above most in a crowd. Ian resembled a mountain man from times gone by. Perfect white teeth and warm brown eyes helped hide the cold, calculating, and narcissistic soul encased in the kindly packaging he presented.
You have no idea what darkness lurks in that man’s heart. Disgusted, she turned away from the growing sea of white lemmings and eyeballed the twelve-foot-high corrugated iron privacy fence surrounding the compound. The shiny barrier was broken up by the honeyed spruce posts. Beyond that fence lie more than freedom.
It led to the outside world, normalcy, and the anonymity associated with not being known. Her heart rate increased. Longing pulled her along like a magnet. Helpless against the attraction, her feet guided her closer. Reaching out, she ran her fingertips over the smooth, cool surface. It’d be so easy to slip away once the ceremony went into full swing. I could disappear into the night, leave everything, and never look back. Closing her eyes, she imagined a life void of responsibility, familial ties, and lies.
The once pleasant scent of pine rose dispersed. Her stomach protested, rolling like a stormy sea. The clean scent that represented Christmas, hot chocolate, and presents in her youth had been bastardized. Warped and twisted by White Creek, the aroma became a symbol of an impending ceremony. Joss kept her back to the crowd, and pulled her hood down farther to hide her expression. Struggling to regain a blank façade, she breathed deeply. Angering the alpha lead to agony and humiliation.
Phantom pains shot through the faded scars on her back. Trapped by circumstances, her existence was likened to a rat in captivity, observed and used by scientists. She scanned the scene covertly over her shoulder. Fires flickered in the night, dancing wildly in the wind, their flames contained by hand built stone fire pits. Huddled together, the followers spoke in hushed voices. A wave of excitement swept through them, expanding as time slipped by. Their exuberance scented the air—a living, gut-wrenching thing she could almost see like an oily sheen that distorted her vision. People stood taller. Anticipation tinged their words. It looked like a fraternity or sorority event. If only it were so harmless.
She continued farther down the fence line, away from the others gathering in clumps. Walk out and don’t look back. You don’t have to play this role any longer, the rebellious voice inside of her urged her. Despite her misgivings, she pushed on, placing one foot in front of the other, feeling lighter with every step. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, echoing in her ears as she fell into tunnel vision. What would life be like free of White Creek’s rules, secrets, and practices? She hadn’t tasted that flavor of liberty since she was ten years old. At twenty-five, she was beyond ready to experience life on her own terms.
Images of a job in a quiet town by a lake where no one knew her danced in her head. Perhaps she could find a new pack or live solo? Being a lone wolf resonated strongly. I’ve had enough togetherness to last a lifetime. At this point, I prefer wolves to werewolves. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget about everyone who depended on her. An imaginary shiny, gold hoop hovered above her, glinting in a tantalizing manner. She wanted to grab it with both hands and bail.
Watching her new life play in her mind, she crept silently forward on bare feet. Thirty seconds later she was dipping into her bank account and purchasing a new apartment. A minute later, she was decorating and making friends with the quirky girl next door who had no clue she turned furry once a month. I’m so close.
“Headed somewhere, sister?”
The smug baritone acted like an icy bucket of reality delivered by an enemy. Pausing in mid-step, she steeled herself for the confrontation. Showing her stepbrother, Isiah, emotion equated to tossing gasoline into a fire and expecting it to die down. She turned to face him, coolly arching a brow.
“Did I miss the memo declaring traveling alone an illegal activity?”
His smirk drew attention to a plump lower lip and perfectly sculpted upper lip beneath his impeccably groomed close-cut beard. Soulful brown eyes glinted with mischief and menace. She couldn’t deny his rugged beauty. Not with his square jawline, deep-set eyes, and spiky, dark brown hair that spilled across his broad brow. His refined, upturned nose added to an imagined elegance. He looked studious and sensitive. Maybe, that’s how he lures people into his web like a hungry spider. Thank God I know better.
“No, but you had a look about you.”
He stepped closer, breaching her personal space. She tensed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “The one people get when they’ve had enough, and they’re contemplating doing something stupid.”
“You’d know that look well then, wouldn’t you, brother?” she mocked, widening her eyes.
He chuckled. “I love it when you let the claws out.” As his breath tickled t
he sensitive flesh of her ear, she fought to stave off her desire to shudder and move away. “You’ve got an endless supply of strength and courage hidden behind that demure persona you assume. I know it’s not who you really are. I’ve seen that fire burning deep down over the years. No matter what Daddy does, he can’t put it out completely.” He chuckled. “It infuriates him. We share that honor.” He inhaled deeply. “After all of this time, you still smell like honeysuckle and lavender. It makes me wonder if you taste sweet.”
“Enough.” She drew her boundary with the clipped word.
He pulled away, flashing her a wide grin. “Ah-ha There she is. The woman I can’t wait to bend to my will.”
She sneered, “You wish you held that type of power over me.”
Sighing, he shook his head. “Why fight it so hard? We know how this will end, Joss. You’ve got the waning moon birthmark, and I have the waxing moon. Our destinies are entwined. We’re children of the prophecy.”
“Nowhere in that prediction, did it mention a requirement of romantic involvement.” She clenched her jaw.
“But I want it,” he whined, curling a lock of her thick, wavy, strawberry-blonde and auburn locks. “I always get what I want. Eventually.”
“Indeed. It’s why you have such poor character.” She shook her head. “It’s a shame really. Poor little spoiled rich boy has been deluded into thinking he runs things.”
“You never let me get away with anything, do you?” He grinned widely as he beamed. “It’s okay. I like that. I enjoy the fight.”
“I won’t even dignify this,” she gestured between them with her pointer finger, “with anything that comes close to being described that way. You don’t rate it.” Acid dripped from her tongue. She wanted to burn him. To peel back the thick skin he wore and injure his pride.
“Ouch. Touchy words.” He winced. “Except,” he held up a finger, “we both know the pack’s magic is the only thing keeping Step mommy alive and well. Is her only child truly going to leave her to fend for herself?” He clucked his tongue. “I wonder what she’d think, if she knew how effortlessly her own flesh and blood could abandon her.”
“She’s the Alpha’s mate,” she deadpanned, determined not to allow him to provoke her.
“No.” His harsh tone caused her to flinch. “She’s his wife.” His voice turned into an arctic breeze. “There is no equality there. Your mother is weak-willed and frail.” He scowled. “It’s not a secret. A better woman than she is could be ruling at his side. Yet, Father has always insisted on her.” He scratched his beard “Do you suppose that has to do with her daughter being the chosen one?”
The words were a direct hit, preying on her fears and the heavy weight that encircled her ankle, keeping her bound to the life she loathed.
“Who’s to say he doesn’t love her?” she asked with a flippant shrug of her shoulders.
“Love will never outweigh his vision for White Creek.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Don’t take my word for it. Leave and find out for yourself.”
“Without her, you’d have no hold on me.”
“Yes, but you’re such a sweet, devoted daughter, aren’t you?” He pinched her cheek. She nipped at his finger, and he laughed. “People will continually hold you back, Joss. You should remember that.” His joyful countenance faltered. “I learned the hard way with my mother.”
“What happened to your mother?” she whispered.
His toothy grin and dead eyes chilled the blood flowing through her veins. The mania was there for all to see. They didn’t call Isiah Eberstark “stark raving mad” behind his back for nothing. The bottom dropped out of her belly. Fear crept in, pushing aside her boldness. Suddenly, she really didn’t want to know the answer to that question.
“Smart girl.” He caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “Your time dodging me is running out. You’re twenty-five. You know what’s coming soon. Heat. Being Moon Maiden won’t save you forever. The time for you to pick a mate is coming. How you’ve managed to avoid it for so long is a mystery.” She stepped to the side, and he countered, pressing her body back against the gate. She could feel the long, lean length of him through her robe. His muscular frame dwarfed her own. Palms up, she pressed against his chest, forcing him back, regaining space between them. “You must realize by now, even if you tried to pick someone else,” his voice dropped an octave, “I’d never allow it, Joss.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her cheek.
“You’re a repulsive tyrant.”
“It’s nice to know you’ve paid attention to me. I’m a man who was born to rule. Don’t worry, little wolf. My time will soon be at hand.” Her gut lurched. When he took over the pack, she’d lose all of her leverage. “Things are already in motion. Younger leadership is the next logical step. I wonder, would you deny our people, who’ve stood by us and waited patiently, with such inspirational devotion, that natural progression?” His voice was honeyed perfection, oozing over her ear as he spilled sweet words.
“You have a silver tongue.”
“All the better to please you with.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“It’s never worked on me.”
“You’ve never given me the chance to try.” He nuzzled her forehead with the tip of his nose. On the outside looking in, they were having a moment. His pheromones swarmed her. Musk, vanilla, and dark spices blended together.
“And I never will.”
“Hmmm. Never say never.”
“Maiden. Beta.” The reverent tone drew their attention to the pale woman who curtsied a few yards away.
“Adaline.” Isiah turned on his megawatt smile. The thin, blonde blushed; her round cheeks turned red.
“Hello, Addie.” Joss forced a smile. Addie beamed before she rushed off to join the group of girls watching the interaction with wide eyes. The gaggle of teens giggled as they moved toward the area where the ritual would soon take place.
Lambs being led to slaughter, each and every one. They swallowed the propaganda pushed by the Alpha hook, line, and sinker. And I’m a willing accomplice who knows better. That makes me worse than all of them who believe blindly.
She’d spent her tenth year watching her mother deteriorate as she slowly lost the battle with the cancer ravaging her body from the inside out. The chemotherapy stole her lustrous blonde hair, strength, and the weight that rounded her cheeks. She’d been a living skeleton clinging to life, without actually living. The Alpha fixed that. How can I even consider returning her to that fate? It’d be a death sentence. With her father six-feet deep, she owed it to him to look after her.
“Smile, precious, your mom is on her way over, and we wouldn’t want to upset the queen.” Isiah stepped away, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her to his side. His charm ratcheted up to eleven as he morphed his body language. A chameleon, her step-brother was a master at being what others needed to feel comfortable.
“Mother,” he said jovially.
“I should’ve known I’d find you two together.” Her mother smiled. “Come. It’s nearly time for us to begin.”
Caught in the limelight once more, Joss put on her mask. She wiped the anger and frustration from her aura, and focused on exuding calm. Straightening her spine, she stood tall, falling in step with Isiah. They came to stand by the Alpha. Flanked by his betas, she should’ve felt protected. Instead, she silently suffocated.
“Tonight, we have much to celebrate. Odin has kept us safe for another season. Our harvests are plentiful, and the pack is strong. We all feel the tension rising. The time we’ve prepared for is coming soon. Have you heard the rumors swirling among the supernatural communities? They claim vampires are walking in the sun, wolves are able to change without the moon, and the witches wage their own internal wars.” Murmurs of agreement mingled with gasps, and whispers coated with fear sprang up like stalks seeking the sun. “I don’t take any pleasure in the plight of others,” the Alpha said gravely. “Though it proves what we’ve always known. A war is com
ing. Today we pray for strength, understanding, and blessings as we move forward into the winter season.”
The Alpha stepped back. Isiah removed his tentacle-like arm and took the drum from the beta, James. The hollowed-out log had deer hide stretched taut across the opening. Sinew thongs lashed the sides together. The drumstick was made from a branch from the same tree. The head of the stick was wrapped in deer hide filled with sheep’s wool. White Creek took bits and pieces from multiple sources, most notably, however, was the Native Americans who lived off the land and used natural products. It fit with the prepper lifestyle the Alpha pushed.
The steady rhythm Isiah drummed, signaled the start of the ritual. Silence settled over the crowd as the followers formed a line.
“Maiden, take your place in the center of our circle. Use your influence to bend Odin’s ear. Help us usher in a new season and ask for blessings.”
Head held high, she walked to the center of the field lined with stones painted white and placed in a circular Nordic design. Sinking to the ground between two silver chalices, she tucked her legs under her, closed her eyes, and hummed. She rocked back and forth, descending deep into a trance-like state as she let everything else fall away. Drawing strength from the moon, she raised her arms above her head.
“We come to you humbled and grateful for your blessings, Odin. We ask that you smile on us once more as we gather the last of our harvest and prepare for the bitter winter months. Fortify our warriors. Make us sharp-minded and guide us where you will. We bring offerings of food and drink. Grant us this boon, if it is your will.” Opening her eyes, she blinked rapidly to adjust to the brightness. Gathered around her with flaming torches, the members of the pack faced away from her. Rising, she picked up the chalices and began to travel in the divots created in the land, along the path. As she passed behind those who stood, each turned to witness her journey. Lowering their torches, they acknowledged her power and importance.
