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House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1)

Page 17

by L. S. Slayford


  A scowl stretched over her face. “You may be my brother, Michael, but you’re not my bloody alpha. Don’t tell me what to do.”

  A chuckle emanated from the other side of the room. From the look plastered over Michael’s face, it seemed Chase found their conversation amusing.

  Luna reached for the cup on the table. Her heart sank. She hadn’t even got to drink her tea before it went cold.

  Nineteen

  An hour later and the house buzzed with anxiety.

  With the exception of Mike and Tim guarding Misty, most of the pack had finally arrived. Chase and Michael introduced her to everyone, but Luna couldn’t remember any of their names apart from Brad. Only one woman stood amongst the men, her stance comfortable and confident. The other remaining female werewolf was out of town.

  To think that her father had been the leader, sorry, the alpha, of them all seemed surreal, as if she’d been dumped within the pages of some fantasy book. Crazier still that Michael now took on that responsibility for this group of people – responsibility wasn’t his middle name at all.

  Yet, incredible notions weren’t just limited to her. Chase and Michael had spent the last thirty minutes explaining the situation regarding Lyulf in more detail. A few had met him with scepticism, but any lingering doubts had melted away when Luna pulled out the wolf king’s dagger. She may not have been a werewolf, but she could feel an energy in it herself.

  But as Michael and Chase explained the situation with Lyulf, how of much danger they were in, she could see that change in his personality within his eyes. A need to protect glimmered inside, bright enough for anyone to see.

  They’d felt the magic, the power residing within the blade. Not even Luna could deny it despite being human. Energy rippled through the air, wringing gasps of shock and awe from every mouth. It seemed the legend of the first werewolf was told to every child, a thread which bound them together in a tapestry of shadows that hid them from humans.

  But Michael gave them no time to dwell on it; there were other pressing matters to be concerned with. Lyulf stalked the woods, inching closer to the property. Michael still felt him, the sensation stronger than before. They couldn’t allow him to get his hands on the dagger. “We will not let that bastard use either us or the dagger for his demented schemes,” he’d told them.

  But as Luna stood on the porch and gazed over the pack, concern for her brother snaked through her. In only a few days, he’d taken the brunt of two attacks, barely escaping with his life each time. According to him, werewolves could take a lot of damage, but how much was too much? No one was invincible, after all.

  The mental battle from earlier continued to rage on. Part of her wanted to flee, to escape, just long enough for Michael to heal completely before they faced Lyulf.

  But that selfish wish meant the rest of the pack, even the town, would face his wrath on their own.

  Luna couldn’t allow that to happen, either.

  None of them could.

  Instead, they’d come up with a plan. They’d meet him head on beside the pond, with two circling the east to come up from the rear. “When you don’t have the largest numbers,” Chase had said. “It’s important to use what you do have to your full advantage.”

  Luna drew in a deep breath as she watched the dark velvet sky explode in a cascade of shimmering light. It enveloped the nine individuals that stood beside the line of trees. Energy poured along her bare arms, sending a shiver down her spine. A few seconds later, a row of wolves materialized out of the fading light.

  I could watch them transform for the rest of my life and never tire of it.

  As Michael stood beside the wolves, now wearing nothing but an old pair of sweatpants, sharp words of his commands floated on the air. Chase came up by Luna’s side and handed her his leather jacket. A cool breeze caressed her face as she slipped it on. The faint scent of pine and wild herbs filled her nostrils, warming her within.

  “Be careful,” he told her in a low silky tone. “Try not to get hurt.”

  “You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Michael,” she teased, trying to keep her tone light.

  But there was no teasing in the lines of his face. He brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her eyes, the heat of his touch welcome in the cooler night air. His eyes remained troubled, as if wrestling with some inner demon. “Your brother is right. You’re human, which means you’re weaker than we are. Keep that tire iron on you at all times and if things look bad, get the hell out of town and don’t look back.”

  One corner of her mouth twitched. “Anyone would think you care,” she said. Her voice caught on the words.

  A growl slipped out of his mouth. Chase brought his face closer, his voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. “I care, Luna.” Without hesitation, his lips covered her own, locking his mouth to hers as if he would breathe her into himself. She wrapped her arms around his neck and mirrored his passion until a snarl travelled on the wind. Chase pulled away and sighed. “I don’t think your brother likes me at the moment.”

  Luna chuckled softly. She glanced over Chase’s shoulder to find Michael staring in their direction, his jawline sharp enough to cut them both down.

  Taking another deep breath to steady her nerves, Luna walked down the porch steps and slowly made her way over to her brother. Nine sets of amber eyes remained locked on her.

  Michael growled in Chase’s direction as they came over.

  “Wait until this is over and then you can tear my hide,” Chase told him, his tone not quite as flat as he most likely intended. Luna placed a hand on his arm, offering a reassuring smile. He covered her hand with his own and squeezed gently.

  Michael’s eyes narrowed into deadly slits.

  Luna said nothing.

  “Let’s go,” Michael said, the bite of command in his words.

  Two wolves dashed towards the east, their dark coats merging with the shadows that enveloped the trees. Trepidation knotted Luna’s stomach as they disappeared. This better work, she told herself.

  Chase stripped, leaving his clothes in a messy pile beside one of the many cars that parked outside the house. A blanket of iridescent light blanketed his body, then faded away revealing his wolf form. Tipping back his head, he let loose a piercing howl. The others joined in, their song piercing through the night. Luna’s breath hitched.

  With one last look in her direction, Chase turned and trotted into the woods, the others following behind him. Nerves coiled within her gut as Michael took her hand in his. Together, they brought up the rear.

  The faint glimmer of the stars and moon provided the only light to guide their way through the thick shadows. Each step sent a jolt of fear through Luna’s veins.

  Silence flooded the woods except for the soft crunch of twigs breaking beneath paws and footsteps. Michael’s feet were bare, his footsteps so light he didn’t make a sound. Luna couldn’t hear the mice and rabbits scrambling beneath the brush, or the owls hooting in the trees. Even crickets stopped chirping. Luna wondered if the animals that lived there knew something was about to happen.

  The oppressive darkness caused Luna to stumble several times. Only Michael’s grip on her hand prevented her from falling. Finally, the trees thinned out, the inky darkness grew weaker, and the pond came into view. Moonlight spilled across its dark surface.

  Then she noticed twin flames burning in the breeze on the eastern bank.

  Lyulf stood still, watching. Waiting.

  Dressed in similar white robes from their previous encounter, minus the blood stains, he stood tall. Even from the distance his eyes remained locked on them. A cool breeze sent the hems of his robes fluttering around his ankles, his hair dancing behind him like a menacing halo. Beside him burned twin torches that burned through the darkness.

  Slowly, Chase led them around the edge of the water. Luna tasted her pulse in the back of her throat, threatening to rob her of air. At the small of her back sat the dagger, the blade pressing against bar
e skin while she tightened her grip on the tire iron.

  About twenty feet from Lyulf, Chase stopped.

  The rest of the pack stilled, their heads low but their hackles high. Michael stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. Assessing.

  Lyulf regarded them with those cold unnerving pale eyes, reminding Luna of a river of melted moonlight. Long silver hair reflected the red-hot flames which blazed on either side of him, but Luna couldn’t see the stakes that held them up.

  They can’t be just floating mid-air ... can they?

  The twin fires hovered either side of Lyulf’s shoulders, casting long menacing shadows across his chiselled face. Energy crawled up her skin, as if a thousand icy spiders scurried across her body, weaving an invisible cocoon around her.

  “You have come,” Lyulf said, breaking the silence. Satisfaction rolled across his face.

  Michael nodded, his eyes burning with hatred. His shoulders pushed back. “Yep, and now it’s time for you to go.”

  Lyulf scowled, annoyance blazing within his gaze. “Insolence from my dogs is not permitted. You will find me a strict master.”

  Michael took a step forward. “You are not my master,” he growled, his words echoing around the clearing. “I am alpha of the Silver Moon pack and I am telling you to fuck off out of my territory.”

  “Silence, you worthless mutt!” A wave of energy pulsated through the air towards them, causing Luna to stumble backwards. The energy rippled the wolves’ coats. Michael remained firm on his feet. “Did you bring me what is mine?”

  “The dagger belongs to us.”

  “The dagger is mine! It was mine before, and it shall be once again,” he snapped, spittle foaming his lips. “Thousands of years ago when gods walked the earth, I lived across the sea with your pitiful ancestors. My worshippers followed my every command and I blessed them before they took their first steps towards war. But over time, they turned their backs on me, pledging their loyalty to my siblings instead. They betrayed me, my land, my power!” An ugly mask of rage stretching back thousands of years settled on Lyulf’s face. “When the gods granted that foolish king Áedan with the power of the wolves, I realised that this was my chance, this could be the means of taking back what was mine. When his power seeped into the dagger, it would give whoever wielded it the ability to control all wolves. The world would be bathed in blood and I would be its ruler!

  “But Áedan was cunning and my enemies even worse. The werewolves scattered in all directions, and the dagger disappeared with them. I searched throughout the land before my own wife betrayed me.”

  A sudden roll of thunder boomed overhead. A frightened cry escaped from Luna’s mouth before she could stop it. She glanced up. The sky remained clear, the moon shone bright. Shivers of panic waved through her like a storm. If he could make thunder, what else could he do?

  Those pale eyes narrowed, the twin flames on either side transforming them into an eerie shade of red. Just looking at them triggered a knot of fear in her chest. His lips curled. “They banished me. Me! One of the greatest beings to ever be worshipped being reduced to a mere shadow of himself. They locked away my powers, rendering me useless, and cast me out of the Summerland.” Lyulf’s face evolved from a mask of rage to one of pure, alarming evil. “But the veils between the worlds are weakening and my powers are returning. I can rip the air from your lungs.”

  Suddenly, all the air dissipated and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t draw a breath. “Or I can flood them without a drop of water.”

  Luna managed to catch a breath, but the sensation of water trickling down her throat engulfed her with panic. Her knees met with the earth with a hard thud and her fingers clawed at her throat. Then abruptly, it all stopped, the air returning to normal.

  She sucked in as much oxygen as she could draw in, relishing each breath. Slowly, she rose to her feet, but her head swam, causing her to stumble. Legs threatening to give way, Luna knew she wouldn’t be able to maintain her balance for much longer if he tried anything else. Around her, the werewolves snarled but stayed in place. Michael remained impassive, his eyes sealed on Lyulf.

  The fae held out his hand. “You will now return the dagger to me and in exchange I will allow you to live and serve me. We shall kill all those who stand in my way and I will rule the world.” His lips curved into a condescending smile. “If you’re a good pup, I may throw you a bone from time to time.”

  A chorus of growls ripped through the air from all the wolves. No one seemed too keen on Lyulf’s plans.

  Dark shadows flashed through the trees behind Lyulf. Luna’s forehead creased as they disappeared as quickly as they’d come. For a split second, she couldn’t tell if they were figments of her imagination or not. Then she remembered the plan.

  Michael stepped forward, his bare shoulders as tight as his jawline. “I will not give you the dagger and no wolf will ever serve you. Now get off my land before I rip you to pieces,” he said, the warning in his voice as sharp as a scalpel blade.

  “Insolent dog,” Lyulf thundered. “For that I will gut you all and take it myself. Where is my dagger?”

  Deep, raging snarls were his only answer.

  Lyulf’s face descended further into fury. “Where. Is. My. Dagger?”

  The chorus deepened, growing louder in pitch and menace. Luna stepped back as iridescent light formed around Michael’s body, the energy swirling along her exposed skin. Her brother’s human body melted into fur and fangs. The tips of his grey and black coat glimmered like dark blood with the flickering light of the flames. His hackles stood up, and the intense growls that poured from his muzzle reverberated around the clearing with clear intentions.

  Luna tightened her grip on the tire iron. Her heart battered her ribs.

  “How sweet,” came the fae’s mocking voice. “Little puppy wants to play.”

  Michael charged at Lyulf, his jaws snapping towards his face. The rest of the pack lunged towards him, a whirlwind of sharp teeth and dark fur. Terror gripped Luna’s heart, refusing to let go. They surrounded Lyulf, each of them determined to sink their razor-sharp teeth anywhere they could reach. Growls and snapping teeth ripped through the air, followed by the cracking of bone.

  A gust of hot air brushed against her face. A pitiful yelp rang out. Luna’s eyes shot to her left. Michael lay sprawled on the ground, panting hard, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Liquid pooled around his muzzle and Luna thought she could see something wet on his fur beneath his neck.

  “Michael!” she screamed, rushing towards him. She fell to her knees before him just as he lifted his head. Her fingers reached out and touched him. Something warm and damp clung to them. Foreboding settled within her gut as she realised what had happened. His wounds from earlier had ripped open again.

  This isn’t good.

  Despite her pleading at him not to go, Michael struggled to his paws and lowered his head. Another pain-coated shriek cut through the panic. Half a second later, another wolf flew through the air.

  Luna twisted her head. Chase lunged at Lyulf, his powerful jaws locking onto his arms. Liquid trailed out of the corners of his muzzle. Agony painted the fae’s face that quickly morphed into white-hot rage. Shaking off another wolf, Lyulf drew back his arm and landed a heavy punch to Chase’s chest. The crack of ribs breaking rang in Luna’s ears, sending a wave of nausea through her.

  Michael hurried forward only to stumble on his front paws. Luna tasted bitter fear in the back of her throat. He was too hurt for this. She tried to grip his coat, to stop him. If he went back into the fight, Luna feared he’d never come back. Soft fur brushed against her palm, then quickly disappeared.

  Heart racing, Luna glanced up. Chase still clung to his arm, his coat soaked in crimson as his back legs dangled. Two wolves locked their jaws around Lyulf’s legs, another around his wrist.

  Lyulf released a terrifying bellow. Energy pooled around him. A blast of thunder rang in Luna’s ears, tearing her hearing to shreds. A bolt of lig
htning cracked through the clear sky, piercing the side of the wolf determined to bite through his wrist. With a sickening yelp, it recoiled off the fae and sailed through the air into the pond. The splash barely penetrated her ears. Luna held her breath as she waited for the werewolf to break the surface. Finally it did, only to collapse on the bank in a soggy heap and a whimper.

  Energy stirred again on the wind, wringing a gasp from Luna’s mouth. It blasted out in all directions, sending all the wolves from Lyulf crashing to the ground with powerful thuds. He stood alone, blood pouring down his limbs, his white robes stained scarlet. “You will pay for that,” he snarled.

  Luna glanced around. The wolves laid still, their bodies sucking in one ragged breath after the other. She hurried to Michael’s side. Blood oozed into the dirt.

  Fear travelled throughout her body and consumed every cell. They were going to die.

  A howl broke through the night, followed by the sound of rapid thumping. Suddenly, a pair of wolves jumped over her head at lightning speed, their fur caressing her face.

  The wolves lunged straight at Lyulf, forming a frenzied grey whirlwind of biting and snapping. Fear and hope warred inside her as she watched with bated breath. They moved with supernatural speed, leaving Luna unable to see clearly. Lyulf struck out with his fists, a deadly tornado of power of his own

  Michael stirred beneath her fingers, growling as he rose to his paws. “Michael, stop. You’re hurt.” Luna reached out to pull him back, but he moved out of her way. Head down low, he took a few tentative steps forward and jumped back into the fight, his claws aimed straight at the enemy.

  The air thickened with tension and terror. It seeped through Luna’s skin and into her blood as she watched Lyulf rain blow after blow on the wolves. One, two, three, four; his fists moved faster than what her eyes could make out.

  Michael finally latched onto Lyulf’s shoulder. The fae gritted his teeth, gripped another wolf by the scruff of its neck, and shoved it into him. Michael crashed into the ground, but quickly got to his paws. The nearby flames illuminated the blood staining his coat. Pain radiated off him in waves, but he battled against it. He circled around Lyulf, looking for an opening.

 

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