House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1)

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House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 8

by L. S. Slayford


  He turned and fled into the forest, a graceful sweep of his robes billowing out behind him, until he was finally cloaked in the shadows of the tree.

  Emotions swelled throughout her body; fear, rage, and despair, they all danced along Luna’s spine and left her limbs trembling. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, her eyes darted to the ground. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  In the direction the white robed man had fled lay a trail of white stones.

  Nine

  Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Luna repeated in her head, her thoughts a broken record stuck on turntable.

  Sucking in as many deep breaths as her lungs could fill, Luna attempted to calm the raging pulse that pounded throughout her body.

  It didn’t do a damn thing.

  None of what just happened seemed possible. Luna’s mind went back to what he’d said to her. He’d called himself fae. Did that mean he was a fairy or something. Luna hadn’t noticed any pointy ears or wings, but then she hadn’t been able to focus on anything but her brother being beaten to death then disappearing. Whatever this Lyulf character was, he was strong and fast.

  But he could be hurt.

  The smell of burnt flesh still swirled within her nostrils. Once again awash in confusion, the questions kept coming. Why did his skin burn when she struck him? What artefact was he after? Why did he think Michael had it?

  And still no answers came to the million and one questions that bounced on the inside of her mind.

  Closing her eyes, Luna forced herself not to give into the trembling that threatened to consume her. She would not fall apart like some little baby. She had to be strong for her brother.

  Shit. Michael!

  Panic climbed up her spine and encased her lungs. She needed to find him. He had to be out in the woods, bleeding, trying to escape from their attacker. He would need her. The wolf had saved him, she was sure of it.

  Movement from the corner of her eye sent the bitter taste of panic filling her mouth and threatening to choke her. Twisting her body, she gripped the tire iron, and braced herself for another attack.

  Would Lyulf come at them from another position?

  But he never materialised.

  Instead, her eyes filled with the wolf which splayed on the ground to her right. One of its hind legs jerked and Luna thought she heard a popping noise. Blood matted its beautiful coat, and heavy pants heaved out of its mouth. Another grey paw spasmed, and Luna’s heart ached at the sight of the poor wolf as the rest of his body followed. Shimmering silver light burst from its body, producing a gasp from Luna’s throat. Fur melted away, limbs extended, and its snout retracted, until what laid there wasn’t a wolf any longer.

  It was her brother.

  Michael lay on the ground, his body naked and covered in wounds. Unconscious, his eyes remained closed, each line of his face brutally painted with pain. Tattered strips of his clothes lay scattered along the ground, the ends fluttering in the slight breeze.

  This isn’t real. Michael can’t be the wolf that was fighting Lyulf. That would make him ... Luna couldn’t finish the sentence. It wasn’t possible.

  But her eyes refused to contradict what her brain told her.

  The tire iron slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor with a clung. Every ounce of air seemed lodged within her throat. Still unsure of anything, Luna stepped forward towards her brother. Pain blossomed from her knee to her ankle. Grimacing with the movement, she kept going. Whatever she thought she saw, Michael still remained her brother. She had to help him.

  His chest heaved with low shallow movements, which released some of the pressure on Luna’s lungs. Purple and black bruises bloomed across his honeyed skin around the lacerations, merging into smooth unhurt flesh.

  Gingerly, she reached out and touched him. Warmth pooled into her fingers. Another good sign. Grabbing his shoulders with both hands, she shook him. “Wake up,” she ordered on a shaky breath, but his eyes refused to open.

  She couldn’t leave him there, not when a madman stalked the woods.

  She needed to get him out of there.

  Luna glanced over her shoulder. Steam continued to billow in the air from beneath the crumpled hood, but it had lost its sickly green tinge.

  She wondered if that had been due to Lyulf’s ... abilities. She couldn’t bring herself to say the m-word. Magic didn’t exist. Magic was nothing more than a figment of people’s overworked brains.

  Still, she needed to get Michael home where they would be safe. She knew she couldn’t possibly move him herself – the bastard was far too heavy for that, and her knee still throbbed from Lyulf’s attack.

  White steam continued to rise high above her head, tinging the air with a rancid stench. She may not know much about cars, but steam didn’t exactly suggest everything was in working order. Even if she could get him in the truck, she couldn’t be sure if the movements would jar his broken ribs, possibly puncturing his vital organs.

  Luna glanced down the driveway. Walking back to the main road was also out. She hadn’t noticed any cars driving along this area on the way home, so she doubted there would be anyone now.

  But she couldn’t get the image of her brother and the wolf out of her mind. It replayed in front of her eyes, over and over again until she thought she’d go insane.

  Calling 911 wasn’t a possibility either. Sheriff Briggs had insisted her father was a drunk driver responsible for the accident that killed him and her mother. Calling now with Michael’s truck wrecked and him naked was just screaming for more trouble.

  Then there was the whole transformation thing. Could he go to the hospital and be treated like a normal person? Would the authorities discover what he was and then cage him up like an animal?

  Luna’s head pounded with the train of thoughts. Maybe what she’d experienced was just a concussion, and everything was simply an hallucination?

  Luna went through the entire argument in her head a second time, trying to figure out the best course of action. At the edge of her vision, something glimmered. Twisting her head, she quickly realised what it was.

  Michael’s cell phone.

  Fatigue and pain raced through her as she reached for the phone, taking comfort from it in her grasp.

  The questions continued to pile up in her mind, but a sickening gurgle forced Luna’s head to whip in the other direction. Michael’s legs spasmed once more, and more blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Why couldn’t he have told her about this years ago?

  “Michael,” she cried, stumbling back towards him and sweeping a lock of honey blonde hair from his face. “Wake up. Wake up, you bastard. You’ve got some bloody explaining to do!” She shook him again to try and rouse him, but he continued to lay there, unmoving, but breathing deeply.

  Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Luna tried to clear her mind. OK, think. Who would Michael turn to for help? Who can you trust here?

  Pierre instantly came to mind, but he was thousands of miles away.

  Glancing down, a message box flashed Chase’s name on the cell phone screen.

  With trembling fingers and a shaky breath, Luna clicked on his name, hitting the call button. Half-convinced he wouldn’t believe a word she said, she debated how much to tell him when he finally answered. Right now, she needed to hear someone’s voice at the very least.

  “Nice of you to finally call me back, asshole.”

  “Chase?” Luna whispered, hating how her voice trembled when she said his name.

  “Luna? What are you doing ringing me?” Luna heard the surprise that laced his words.

  Now she had him on the phone, hesitation ran through her. How direct could she be? “How much do you know about my brother?” she finally asked, hating the tremble in her voice.

  A brief pause seemed to stretch into eternity. “What do you mean, princess? Where’s Michael?”

  Luna closed her eyes and a shiver coursed through her. “There was a crash. The truck is wrecked. Michael’s hurt.” It was
now or never. “He ... changed.”

  “Changed?” The sound of swearing rang down the line. “Is he human yet? Where are you? Luna? Luna, talk to me.”

  “He’s human,” Luna informed him, her head turning back to where her brother lay. The blood had stopped oozing and she thought his breathing was a little easier. “He’s unconscious but breathing. I can’t get him to wake up. We’re on the driveway, about two miles from the house.”

  “Fuck. He’ll be out for the count for hours. There should be a blanket in the truck. Don’t call for an ambulance. Keep him covered and I’ll be there ASAP. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  “OK,” she whispered, closing her eyes but all she could see was a replay of her brother transforming in her mind. Opening them, relief coursed through her at the sight of her brother in human form.

  Human form. Even in her head it sounded weird.

  “Don’t worry, princess,” Chase told her in a calm voice that sounded out of place at the moment. “I won’t be long.”

  The phone clicked off, leaving Luna alone once more.

  Forcing herself to her feet and wincing at the pain in her knee, she slowly hobbled her way back to the truck for the blanket. A few minutes later, she finally located the scratchy woollen red and blue plaid that had obviously seen better days and covered her brother with it.

  If he complained later that his skin itched from the wool, then that was his own damn fault.

  True to his word, it took Chase only ten minutes to get there, despite each moment feeling like an hour with only fear and worry as her companions. His black Isuzu D-Max sped down the driveway, coming to a halt in a skid of dust and dirt behind Chase’s mangled cherry red truck.

  At least she knew who the vehicle belonged to now.

  Jumping out the car, Chase glanced around, taking in the sight of the truck briefly before hurrying over to where she sat with her brother, her bad leg sticking out. He sniffed the air. It took everything inside her not to fling herself at him.

  He was there. He’d know what to do.

  Hopefully.

  “Are you like Michael?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  One corner of Chase’s mouth lifted as he turned those dark eyes on her. “You’ve got nothing to fear from me.” The smile faded and he glanced back at his friend. He squatted beside Michael but didn’t touch him. “He should be fine, but he’ll be out of it until tonight. By tomorrow you’d never know what had happened.”

  “But I do know what happened,” she whispered, gazing at her brother. She’d never seen him so helpless before. Sorrow poured through her like waves at the thought of losing him so close to her parents. She stole a glance at Chase. “Doesn’t he need a doctor or something?”

  Chase’s eyes met hers, narrowing. “What happened exactly?”

  Taking a deep breath, Luna told him everything.

  Chase’s face remained a neutral mask of indifference until she described how she had driven Lyulf off with the tire iron. Surprise bloomed within his eyes and Luna shivered as they stared deeply at her, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

  The sigh that escaped his mouth reverberated through the air. “You’ve got to be the first human woman that’s impressed me, princess. C’mon, let’s get you both home before anything else comes along. Can you walk?”

  Luna forced herself to her feet, testing her injured knee. The pain didn’t seem quite as intense now, but it was still going to be a bitch walking two miles to the house. “Oui, but how are we going to get Michael home – oh. Never mind.” Her words trailed off as she watched Chase grasp her brother and sling him over his shoulder without even a grimace at the extra weight. “My, what strong arms you have,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Is that my cue to say ‘all the better for holding you tight’?” Chase laughed, adjusting her brother’s position. Luna averted her eyes at the sight of Michael’s buttocks in the air. If it wasn’t for the blood coating his body, it would be comical.

  With one last adjustment, Chase made his way down the road. Luna followed behind, her glance downwards, wincing with the pain. She didn’t want to see his backside any more than she had to. If Michael wants his clothes, he can get them himself, she thought. It will be his punishment for keeping me in the dark.

  With each step, the questions persisted in their quest to assault her. How much of his life was hidden in shadows? How had he become ... whatever he was? Her brain knew the word, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, even in her thoughts. It seemed too impossible, yet here she was.

  Say it, her mind pressed. It’ll be easier once you do. Say it.

  “Werewolf,” she whispered, the word echoing in her head.

  In front of her, she thought she saw Chase’s head tilt slightly but couldn’t be certain.

  Had he been born like this? Cursed by an evil witch? Infected with some strange concoction designed by a mad scientist? Why hadn’t he told her?

  Had their parents known what he was?

  The questions remained unanswered. It was maddening but helped to manage the pain as they walked.

  As they continued, the sounds of the forest seemed more intense, and more than once the rustling of the trees sent Luna’s heart leaping to her throat. But each time it was only a bird, launching itself from a branch into the air.

  Chase stayed several steps ahead, her aching knee slowing her down after a while, but he kept the same amount of distance between them no matter how slow she went. To her eyes, Michael’s weight seemed nothing to him. Emotions swirled through her at the thought of her brother hurt in such a way, but Chase had promised he’d be fine.

  All she could do was hold onto that hope.

  After what seemed hours, a glimpse of the house appeared at the end of the tunnel of trees. Luna wondered why on earth anyone had wanted a three-mile long driveway in the first place, but the sight of the end filled her with relief. Sweat beaded along her skin, and the pain in her knee threatened to grip all the way to the top of her leg. Any longer and she thought she’d collapse on the ground.

  More thoughts continued to drift through her head as she inched closer to the house. How many more werewolves would she find in her family tree?

  Then a another popped into her head. What if all her family were werewolves and she the only human? Maybe that was the reason she’d been sent away?

  It made sense. Why keep a human around in werewolf family?

  Perhaps she really was a freak.

  A solitary tear rolled down her cheek as she hobbled into the clearing only thirty meters from the house. With an angry hand, she wiped it away. Chase headed up the porch and disappeared inside. Pain danced through her body. Her neck felt stiff and her both her legs trembled with exhaustion.

  But Michael was safe. He was home. Nothing else mattered.

  Luna took a deep breath as she reached for the railing to pull herself up the stairs. “I need tea,” she muttered.

  OK, tea was all that mattered as well.

  Ten

  Relief swam through Luna as she sank onto the couch. The hard cushions felt like heaven as she finally took the weight off her knee. Her lip no longer hurt, but as she raised a tentative hand to her mouth, she could feel it begin to swell. Great, just what she needed.

  But at least they were alive. It could’ve been much worse, she supposed.

  Luna reached down and gingerly touched her leg. The tear in the denim exposed an expanse of skin painted in a mixture of blood and ugly purple bruises that threatened to turn black. The ache blossomed throughout her legs, right the way down to her toes. Grimacing at the sight, Luna released a weary sigh. Lyulf had hurt her, but nowhere near as much as Michael.

  How much damage could werewolves take? Much more than humans Luna thought, her mind going back to the beating her brother took.

  She needed painkillers but her body refused to get up. In a few minutes, she told herself. She rested her head on the back of the sofa as she tried t
o get her mind working in some sort of order before she went insane.

  Too late. Where’s a straitjacket when you need one?

  Forget the straitjacket. She needed to find a bottle of Baileys.

  But first, painkillers and a hot bath. Maybe together they’d help with the dull ache pulsing through her leg.

  As she attempted to gather the energy to get to her feet Chase walked through the door. His brown eyes gleamed in the sunlight, his expression solemn. “I’ve put your brother in his old room in case you want to check on him. I’ve covered him so your eyes don’t blister.”

  Nodding, she exhaled loudly. She didn’t fancy the walk from the house to the other property. OK, it may have only been a short distance, but with her knee it would be a painful one. At least she could hobble from one room to the other here. “Merci. You’re sure he’ll be fine? That he doesn’t need to go to a hospital?”

  Chase shook his head and perched on the arm of the couch, offering her a ghost of a smile. “No hospital needed. At the moment he’s in what is known as a healing sleep. He’ll be good in the morning. I’ve wrapped him up with as many blankets as I could find. Werewolves heal better when we’re warm, so if you ever find one of us hurt, try to keep us as warm as you can.”

  “I’ll try to remember that next time I run into a werewolf,” she remarked drily, forcing herself to stand. Carefully adjusting her weight so that her injured knee wouldn’t scream in protest, she took a shaky step forward. The pain didn’t seem quite as intense now after a little rest. A long hot soak in the tub would help it even more.

  Chase rose to his feet and faced her. An intense look pooled into his eyes and for a split second, Luna thought she saw flecks of gold burning within them. “C’mon, princess, let’s get you cleaned up. I can smell the blood on you.”

  Luna swallowed and felt her heart flutter within her chest. Her eyes widened. “You can smell blood?” she whispered.

  Chase took the two steps that separated them. Yep, definitely golden flecks in his eyes. They captivated her, held her entranced. Chase nodded, his eyes fixed on her. “Yep, and I don’t suggest you bleed a lot around werewolves. Most of us have control over our beasts, but it’s getting close to the full moon, I’ve not eaten yet, and you smell good. I suggest you don’t bleed at all around any of us supernaturals. Especially vampires. Those bloodsuckers have no control at all.”

 

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