Pierre paused. “Do you have a name to go with this fae?”
“There’s one on the back. Lyulf,” she replied, her eyes closing with weariness. A gust of wind blew outside her window, and the squawk of birds pierced the air.
Eyes snapping open, she sat up on the bed and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Fear flooded down her veins like wildfire. Blood pounded within her head. Shit. Could he hear her speak his name?
Or would he send another flock of birds to attack her and retrieve the artefact? They hadn’t found out what it was yet, let alone found it. The twenty-four hours weren’t up.
Her feet carried her to the window, each step forcing a fist of fear to grip her spine. Through the closed windows she failed to see anything outside. The trees stood still, camouflaging whatever it lurked within. She swallowed hard but couldn’t dislodge the panic filling the back of her throat.
“Luna,” came Pierre’s demanding voice down the line. “Talk to me.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Luna shook her head, trying to sweep away the terrible images invading her mind. “Sorry, I thought I heard something outside.”
“Are you OK? I’m worried about you.” His tone took on a sweet edge, as if he’d coated his words with a thick layer of honey. She’d told him once that she found his voice beautiful, mesmerising, that she could listen to him talk all night. He’d simply shrugged his shoulders in that elegant, fluid way of his and smiled. The perfect gentleman.
Who deserved the perfect lady.
Which she could never be.
Luna swallowed. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just not used to being out in the country where you can hear the birds and woodland creatures. I’m a city girl after all,” she replied, hoping that it would satisfy him. “Can you see if Adam knows anything about this fae for me please? It would really mean a lot if you could.”
“Oui, I will do this for you.” Pierre paused for a moment. A male voice floated in the background. “I’ve got to go. Be safe. I’ll ring you tomorrow.”
Goodbyes over, Luna hung up and released a weary sigh. In her mind, it seemed all she did lately. Sigh and lie. Guilt crept into the corners of her soul. She’d lied yet again and forgotten to tell him what had happened between her and Chase.
Twice.
Remorse flowed through her like cheap wine. She knew she had to tell Pierre about the kiss – and the other thing – after all, he deserved the truth. If she didn’t, the guilt would crush her heart like a boulder on a delicate flower. Besides, any decent lawyer would discover the truth before too long and Pierre was more than just decent. No, there was no other option. She had to tell him the truth the next time they talked. She could only pray that he’d forgive her.
But how do you forgive someone who cheated on you, no matter if they hadn’t done the actual deed? Could Pierre forgive her? Would he forgive her?
If he didn’t, it would serve her right.
Did Mum forgive Dad? Luna thought. Her mother’s journal suddenly sprung to mind.
Despite the exhaustion coursing through her body and the emotional cloud that stretched over her mind, Luna tucked the phone in the back of her jeans and stepped out of the room. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Pierre would say or do, but she could find out what her mother had years ago.
As she closed the door behind her, the sound of movement floated on the air from within Michael’s room. A soft muffle of words reached her ears. A frown pulled between her brows. She hadn’t heard her brother come back into the house, let alone venture upstairs and start talking to someone. Maybe I should buy him a collar and bell for his birthday.
Luna made her way downstairs and back into her father’s study. The scent of pine lingered, but Chase had disappeared. Breathing a sigh of relief – the idea of seeing him again filled her with too many mixed emotions - she began the search for the rest of her mother’s journals. The one she’d been reading earlier sat on her father’s desk, just in front of the framed family photograph.
It didn’t take long to locate the next book, along with seven more, all within date order. Looking down at the pale blue book adorned with white flowers, Luna wondered how anything so ordinary-looking could fill her with such dread and anxiety. The rest of the books were all different colours and patterns, all appearing as if they could be picked up at any store in town. Which they probably were, she realised. Yet within these normal-looking covers held family secrets Luna was determined to uncover.
But hesitation stilled her fingers before they could flick them open.
How much did she want to know? What good could come of it? Could she live without knowing the facts?
Berating herself for being so dramatic, Luna settled at her father’s desk and opened the blue notebook.
All secrets came to light eventually. Even her mother’s.
I finally did it. I followed George and by everything that’s holy I wish I had never done so. Once again, he snuck out of the house when he thought I was asleep but this time I was ready. He headed down to the pond and I saw him transform into something incredible - a wolf! At first, I thought I imagined it, that perhaps it was my hormones that had affected my eyes, but no, it wasn’t. It was something truly magical. George’s body was covered in a silver light, as though he was becoming the moon itself. His legs seemed to shrink and yet grow bigger. His human body disappeared and then there was nothing but a grey wolf standing next to the water’s edge. The wolf turned its head in my direction – it must have heard me make noise – and growled. Fear got the best of me and I admit that I lost all control of my bladder. This creature walked over to where I stood and sniffed me, maybe trying to determine whether I was friend or food, then jumped up and started licking my face. We stayed by the pond for an hour or so before the wolf walked away and transformed once again. There he was, my husband. Naked. Shivering. The wolf was gone; my husband was back. For another hour, I think I cried in his arms. I don’t remember anything he told me, or even how I got back home. But somehow, I woke up in my bed this morning. George left me breakfast on the table but had already gone to work. A breakfast isn’t going to make up for lying to me for all this time. He has a lot of answering to do.
Luna hurried onto the next page. It seemed to be written a few days later.
George has finally come home. The day after that night I followed him he left to stay with a friend. He said it was to give me some time to process what I had seen. I was so glad to have him back, but I did tell him we had to talk about it. The look in his eyes ... it’s hard to describe, as though both man and beast stared out of a single window. It both frightens and captivates me.
A few days later, her mother added another entry.
What a week. George tells me he is a werewolf – a werewolf! Can you believe it? He can transform, or Change as he calls it, into a wolf since he was the first child of a werewolf. My father-in-law, before he died, was one, and passed on the genes to his son. Now George has passed his genes down to our child. I asked him if there was any chance that our baby won’t become a werewolf, but he told me that the first child always is. There is no escape from the curse. I tried to get him to tell me more about the origins of it, but he couldn’t tell me, or wouldn’t tell me, I’m not sure. George says that we should only have one child. I agree with him. My entire being is full of dread for the life my baby is being brought into.
The rest of the entries appeared to stretch over the following few years. They provided meaningful insights into a cursed world her mother could never be a part of. Luna couldn’t help but smile as she read of the pack welcoming her, of the willingness to embrace the idea of people transforming into creature’s science and reason refuted at every turn. Her brother’s birth widened her smile further. It seemed they were the perfect family.
But the smile morphed into grim lines as she read accounts of attacks by other werewolves and even lone vampires. She couldn’t begin to imagine how her mother must have felt – a human thrust into a world of supernatural po
wer and strength. It seemed incredible.
The journal ended. Luna picked up the next, the burgundy cover fading at the edges. She flipped it open, eager to know more. To understand more about the world her family was part of. A few pages in, and Luna’s heart jumped in her chest.
I am both saddened and happy to announce that I am pregnant once again. George and I agreed that we would only have one child when I found out my unborn son would inherit the werewolf gene, yet I find I cannot terminate this pregnancy. Children are a gift of life, even if it is cursed. George informs me that any child born after the first will be human, but I don’t know if I believe it. Just because no one knows of any siblings who have transformed doesn’t mean that it can’t happen. Either way, I will be keeping this baby and no force on this earth could separate them from me.
Luna didn’t know whether to snort in disbelief or laugh at the irony. Her mother had sent her away, yet here were her very own words in black and white proclaiming she wouldn’t part from her child.
Luna flicked through the pages, discovering her mother believed her husband kept more secrets from her. Life went on, the pregnancy flourished, and a new entry soon appeared – her own birth. Yet, her mother continued to write about her fears. Another three journals in and Luna inhaled a sharp breath.
I am scared; I can admit it. Yesterday, we heard from another pack who demanded an audience with George and his wolves. They called themselves the Crescent Moon pack and live somewhere up north, although they refused to say where. George met with them, taking a few of the others with him. When they returned, they were pale and the fear on their faces was clear for all to see. Apparently, they understand that we have a werewolf son and that our second child, our human child, is a daughter. They have demanded that we turn over Luna to them by the next full moon. Naturally, George refused to hand her over. I do not know what happened exactly after George refused but Mike tells that they used strong magic to overpower them, magic they had never experienced before. George spent last night promising me he will keep our family safe, but I am worried, especially since we can’t leave.
A new entry appeared a few days later.
Sweet Lord, please, please, please give me strength to do what needs to be done. George has informed me that we have no choice but to send little Luna away for her own safety. The alpha of the Crescent Moon pack can do great magic, terrible magic, and needs Luna to complete some kind of dark ritual. She is the key to a future bathed in blood we cannot allow. George has found a safe place for Luna, but it means sending her to Europe and he has told me that she must never return to America otherwise they will find her. How can I send my little girl to another country? But how can I not send her away when staying here means death? George has admitted that he is not as physically strong as the other alpha and I see the pain in his eyes when he admitted it. I understand that she must go but the thought of losing her makes me want to keep her here. Six years old. That’s all she is. We only have a few more weeks before the Crescent Moon pack return. I have already started preparing for the move. I asked George why we couldn’t all move to Europe, but he says we can’t. As alpha it is his duty to protect all those on his lands. The others will be vulnerable. An alpha dies defending the territory he is tied to. He will not budge on his decision. As much as I hate it, I must do what is right for my family. Luna must go so that she can live. It will kill me to leave her there, but her life depends on it. I am her mother; I will do what I have to keep her safe. All I can say is that I hope it is the right thing.
Two weeks later, the pages stained with tears long since dried.
It is done. Little Luna has taken well to her new school, but my heart has been torn to shreds the moment I said goodbye. I know she will never forgive me, but at least they can’t get her now. She is safe, and that’s all we can hope for right now.
Fourteen
Tears burned rivers down Luna’s cheeks, blinding her, the pain born from almost three decades of secrets and lies. Her body heaved with sobs, her hands clutching her stomach as if she could somehow force the sorrow back inside so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. Closing her eyes, her mouth opened in a silent scream that echoed the sound of her heart ripping apart.
How many lies could one family stuff in their closet before they all came tumbling out?
Questions raced within her mind about the Crescent Moon pack – why did they want her? What kind of key was she?
And why did one question lead to ten more?
Frustration burned alongside a kaleidoscope of emotions – anger, betrayal, pain, grief. She’d lived with the pain of abandonment for years. Endless nights crying into a pillow in a building thousands of miles away from the only home she’d ever known. The lavender scent of her teddy bear and the patchwork quilt her mother had left at her boarding school flooded her nose even now. She’d saved them – both sat on her bed in her apartment. They remained both a symbol of pain and comfort; the former as a reminder of what she’d never get back, the latter as a symbol of her friendship with Samantha.
Memories of her early days at school floated in front of her eyes. Two girls shared each room, hers with a British girl, a tiny thing with flaming red hair and freckles scattered across her cheeks. Each night, as Luna wept for a family who didn’t want her, Samantha would slip into her bed and hold until dawn. Outrageous and crazy, Samantha easily saw the pain Luna went through and never left her side. On the occasions her family couldn’t make it over, she’d spend time at Samantha’s house in England. Over time, she’d become part of their family as well, but she’d always held them at bay to a degree. She never wanted to feel the loss of a family for a second time. Or the rejection.
Right then, though, Luna wanted to hear Samantha’s voice. She could hear what she’d say to her – chin up, chest out, don’t let the bastards knock you down. You’ll get through this, chick.
She could think now, a little anyway. She always could after the tears subsided, especially with all the practice she’d had over the years. More memories fluttered back, incidents of begging her parents to allow her to come home only to be denied every single time. Screaming, crying, pleading, threats – nothing worked on them. She’d even asked Michael to hide her in his suitcase the night before they flew home when she was eight. When he refused, she’d attempted to get in herself when he wasn’t looking. His laughter rang in her ears for days after he found her curled up in a tight ball within the confined space.
A sharp tap at the door startled Luna out of her painful reverie. Honey blond hair caught her eye, but the tears distorted the rest of her brother as he stood within the doorway.
“Luna,” he said, his voice as soft as rose petals. “I heard crying. Stupid question, but are you alright?”
Luna nodded, her head pounding as she rubbed a hand over her eyes. Wiping away tears was easy, wiping away the pain not quite as much. Lowering her head, she passed Michael the journal.
The sound of pages echoed in her ears. A sigh circled the room and he crouched beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Eyes closed, Luna leaned into him and forced the tears burning her eyes not to fall again.
“Mom and Dad wanted you so much, Luna,” he whispered. “But more than anything, they wanted you to live. I don’t know much about why the other pack wanted you, Dad didn’t go into too much detail, but it’s full of prophecies and blood and death. Something no child should have to deal with. So, they had a choice to make – keep you here where the Crescent Moon pack could snatch you from us at any time or send you away far enough that you’d survive.” Michael squeezed her shoulder. “I would’ve done exactly the same thing as they did.”
Luna leaned further into her brother’s embrace, hot tears spilling over her cheeks once more.
“Do you believe us now?” Michael asked softly. “That you weren’t sent away because you weren’t wanted, but because Mom and Dad wanted to keep you safe?”
Luna nodded, her throat like sandpaper. Even if she could say anyth
ing, her mind refused to formulate words.
Michael continued, his arm comforting. “The pack left us alone after you went, but I didn’t know anything about it until I was twenty-one. Dad ordered me not to tell you anything and no one goes against their alpha. You can get exiled for disobeying the rules. I hated it, I swear to you, I fucking hated not telling you the truth. Every time we saw you in France and you begged us to bring you back, my heart ripped to shreds because we couldn’t. Every single fucking time you cried I felt your pain, but you couldn’t feel ours. When they died, I thought the risk was worth taking so you could say goodbye.”
The bitter tang of truth laced his words and Luna’s heart ached within her chest for them both. He’d known but couldn’t say anything.
Another memory popped into her mind. Michael and her mother had flown to France for two months before her last year of school started. Her father had been forced to stay behind, probably on pack business she now realised, but those eight weeks had been one of the best times of her life. They’d visited all the major cities - Reims, Nantes, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Carcassonne, Lyon, Marseille – endless hours shopping, hiking in the countryside, and sampling wine. Michael regaled her with stories of his girlfriends’ back home and tried his luck flirting with the French girls they met along the way.
But the night before they were due to go home proved to be the worst. Back in Paris, they’d finished dinner and returned to their hotel. Blinking back tears and unable to say her goodbyes at the airport, her mother had left them in the bar before heading back to her room. Sipping beer and coke, they started discussing her plans for after graduation. He’d soon heaved a sigh when she’d told him she was thinking about returning to Virginia.
“With your education you could go anywhere and do anything, and you want to come to some backwater town in the middle of nowhere? For fucks sake, sis, don’t be so dumb,” he’d spat, shaking his head.
“I want to go home,” she’d replied, not bothering to try and hide the hurt in her voice.
House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 12
