A high-pitched screech pierced through the clearing and through her ears, as if an arrow shot in her direction. Luna covered her ears, her face screwed up with the pain that resonated through her head. As the scream finally died away, she raised her head.
Luna froze as a shadow peeled away from the dark trees across the pond.
Twenty
Fear ate at her stomach like acid as the creature from her bedroom window stared at her across the water. Its wide orb-like eyes shone like obsidian, the moonlight reflecting in its eyes.
Unable to move, all Luna could do was stand with her jaw open in terror.
“Goblin, restrain the girl,” Lyulf commanded. He backhanded one of the wolves, sending it crashing several feet away. Clods of dirt shot into the air. As the wolf climbed to its paws, it shook its head as if to shake away any lingering traces of dizziness. Amber eyes blazed through the night.
Luna’s stomach clenched as she recognised those eyes. Chase lunged back sat Lyulf.
Another piercing scream ripped through the clearing, forcing Luna’s attention back to it. A goblin?
Whatever it was, it ran towards her, scurrying around the edge of the pond. Its long thin arms clawed at the ground, its back legs pushing it at lightning speed. With each stride, the shadows that cloaked its body lost their darkness, revealing greyish skin and talon-like claws.
Terror ripped a shriek from Luna’s throat. The urge to ran pulled her feet from their rooted position. Instincts screaming inside, she dropped the tire iron and ran in the opposite direction.
She didn’t get far before she stumbled over her feet and hit the ground. Sucking in a breath, she propelled herself to her feet.
She didn’t know where she was running to, only that the creature, the goblin, was hot on her heels. Behind her, growls swirled on the air, mingling with the metallic taste of blood and dirt.
Luna glanced over her shoulder. The creature wasn’t far behind. Tendrils of hair blinded her vision, making it hard to see it, and her lungs burned with exertion.
Luna kept pounding her legs, not caring that she had no idea where she was running to. She made it only a few more steps before something jumped onto her back and slammed her into the ground.
Luna arched her spine, the back of her head almost touching her shoulder-blades, and screamed. The cool night air brushed against bare skin, quickly followed by a trickling sensation. It took her mind a second to realise the goblin’s claws had sliced through Chase’s leather jacket and exposed the her back.
A flash of grey caught her eye before another searing line of pain stole her breath away. The goblin’s spiny legs clung to her hips, one hand yanking at her hair, and screamed in her ear. Luna’s scalp burned with agony as the creature jerked her head back.
Crying out, Luna reached behind her. Her fingers dug into something soft and brittle. She squeezed her fingers tight around the bony limb. The goblin screeched again, sending a fresh wave of pain through her head. Gritting her teeth and determination blazing through her, she tightened her grip and yanked it away from her.
Every inch of her body ached but she knew she couldn’t stop. She managed to crawl to her knees when the goblin jumped onto her back once more. Luna twisted her body and rolled several times.
Razor sharp claws pierced her skin as the world faded into a blur of darkness and grass. Pain exploded through her body and she could feel blood trickling down her back.
Luna rolled onto her front, finally free of the goblin. Something soft caressed her face. She opened her eyes; all she could see were petals. Her heartbeat accelerated as she realised what they were.
Wolfsbane.
The cloak of night stole their beautiful colour, but there could be no mistaking the deadly plant. Terror raced down her veins and she froze. Had the poison seeped onto her skin? She raised a hand to her face where the petals brushed against.
Suddenly, pain blossomed through her upper body once more. Claws swiped across her back and arms. The leather jacket fell in tatters to the ground, exposing bloody skin.
A thud rang through her ears. Tears streamed from her eyes and her hair partially blinded her vision. She rolled onto her side. The goblin gave a victorious high-pitched squeal and jumped off her back. Luna held her breath and her battered body waited for the next blow.
But it never came.
The creature seized something from the ground and bounded off in the direction of its master, emitting a high-pitched screech.
Releasing her breath, Luna struggled to sit up as pain bloomed through her upper body. Her hand reached behind and suddenly dread seized her in its icy vice-like grip.
The dagger was gone.
Oh shit.
“Michael! Chase! It’s got the dagger,” she screamed.
She scrambled to her feet and staggered back to where Lyulf and the wolves still battled. Only four of the wolves remained on their paws; Chase, Michael, and two others she didn’t recognise. The twin flames continued to blaze in the night air, illuminating the blood that coated fur and robes alike.
The rest of the pack laid motionless on the ground.
Chase tore his attention from Lyulf and pounced at the goblin racing in his direction. It dived to one side, narrowly missing a mouth full of sharp teeth stained crimson. Chase lunged once again and clamped down on a spindly leg. A shriek of pain sang through the air. The goblin clawed at Chase’s eyes, barely missing them.
Chase dropped the goblin for a split second before quickly closing his powerful jaws around its waist. Screams of agony pierced Luna’s brain even from a distance. Blood poured from the side of Chase’s mouth as he clamped down harder. With a last ear-popping scream, the goblin threw the dagger towards Lyulf as Chase’s teeth snapped through bone. Blood showered the air, and the top half of its body fell to the ground with a sickening thud, quickly followed by the other half.
Lyulf pushed away from the three wolves that attempted to bring him down and dove for the dagger in an elegant movement any ballet dancer would envy. His eyes blazed with rapture. “It is mine,” he cried, his words coated in satisfaction.
Luna’s heart dropped into a bottomless pit. She staggered forward, her back burning with agony. The corners of her vision started to waver.
A grey wolf with a black strip down its back jumped at Lyulf’s hand, its jaws seizing his wrist. Pain etched across his face and he dropped the dagger. Lyulf struck the wolf with a sharp kick. A nauseating pop rang through the air.
Suddenly, the dagger was nowhere to be seen.
Michael locked his bloody jaws around Lyulf’s ankle. Another wolf lunged at his back, but the fae gracefully swirled out of his way, causing the wolf to skid several feet away. Face set in a scowl, Lyulf reached down, grabbed Michael by the scruff of his neck and flung him straight into Chase’s side. Whispers of pain floated on the night breeze.
Lyulf bent down and reached for the dagger.
“It is mine,” he said, his tone encased in pride. His eyes never glanced away from the blade. The silver shone bright as moonlight.
Finally, Luna reached her brother. Sinking to her knees, her heart threatened to freeze within her chest. Blood soaked his coat, and several wounds split his skin.
Beside them, Chase bore similar injuries but seemed in better shape than Michael. Crimson painted his muzzle and his body panted with exhaustion. Slowly, they both clambered to their paws, their beautiful golden eyes determined to see this through.
Movement to the left caught Luna’s eye. One of the wolves, a glorious creature with snow white fur save for a patch of grey along its tail, took a tentative step forward. Then stopped.
Chase froze beside her.
Luna glanced around. The few wolves on their feet remained still. Something swam on the air, an energy of some kind. A new fear gripped her.
What’s happening?
She whipped her head back towards Lyulf who stared at the dagger as if it held all the answers to his questions.
Light glimmered
from the blade, growing in intensity. Within seconds, Luna had to squint. The blade was bright, almost too bright to look at.
Fear knotted her stomach. The dagger held power to control all werewolves. Including her brother.
And Lyulf possessed it.
All the wolves were frozen in place by its magic.
She couldn’t allow him to use the wolves as his own personal weapon. Determination flooded through her, pushing past the fear. I may be human, but I’m not going down without a fight.
Michael took a step forward, but his movements were heavy, as if trying to wade through tar. Something forced him to stop, and a growl reverberated through the area.
Luna glanced around. Only a few inches from where Chase stood lay the tire iron she’d dropped. Reaching out, her fingers connected with the cold metal. Lethargy trickled through her veins and her vision blurred at the edges as she gripped it tight.
She stood up. With shaky steps, she moved forward.
Lyulf’s eyes remained locked onto the dagger, his face painted in a terrifying shade of victory. “It’s mine. No one can stop me now, not even the gods themselves. Come my pets, let us bring forth a new era of power and death. The humans will bow to me, or they will be ripped apart!”
Luna stood only a few feet away when his head suddenly whipped around and caught sight of her.
With all the strength she had, she swung the tire iron at his face just as a pulse of energy shot out, the force slamming her into the ground.
A cry of pain rang through her ears, followed by the nauseating scent of burnt flesh. Satisfaction and agony rolled through her in unison. The metal must have struck him somewhere. A familiar blur of grey shadows shot past her line of sight. “Michael!” she screamed.
Michael sprang forward, droplets of blood showering the ground as his feet lifted off the floor. His powerful jaws fastened around Lyulf’s throat. Whatever magic that held the other wolves in place dissipated immediately.
Chase pounced at the fae, sinking his teeth into an arm; another wolf locked onto an upper thigh. Growls spilled through the air, infusing it with the coppery taste of blood.
The white wolf leapt at Lyulf’s other shoulder, and he crashed into the ground. The fae screamed in fury and pain as Michael buried is face in the fae’s throat. A sickening spray of crimson shot out over the tops of their heads. The screams turned into nauseating gurgles, but still Lyulf struggled against the onset of snapping teeth.
Just fucking die already.
Pushing past the exhaustion and pain that rippled through her veins, she tightened her grip and closed the gap between them. She raised the tire iron, her breath coming in harsh pants. Michael moved his body to the side but didn’t let go of his grip. A scream ripped from her throat as she brought the tire iron down on Lyulf’s face. The impact of the cold iron tore fresh screams from him, and the hissing of burning flesh matched them, creating a bloody song of impending death.
Luna lifted the metal above her head. Using all the strength she possessed, she struck his face, over and over again. Her screams mingled with his, tearing through the trees, until only the sound of sizzling flesh could be heard.
Finally, Luna dropped the tire iron. Her chest sawed with one ragged breath after the other and her limbs trembled.
Coppery tasting air saturated her lungs, but instead of helping, it brought waves of fresh pain. A wave of dizziness flooded through her, sending her to her knees. Her fingers touched something cold.
The wolf king’s dagger.
Lyulf lay still on the ground next to her, his body a gory mess of blood and seared flesh, but Luna didn’t want to take any chances. Without hesitation, she sucked in another breath, gripped the hilt tight, and plunged it straight into his chest.
A strangled sound bubbled from Lyulf’s mouth and his back arched at an unnatural angle. Luna yanked the dagger out, adjusted her aim, then thrust it back. The blade sank into his heart. Dark blood oozed from the sides.
Shimmering light the colour of moondust danced before her eyes. A second later, the warm touch of human fingers brushed over her hand. As her body trembled, Luna glanced upwards.
Despite the numerous open wounds that adorned his naked body, Luna cried in relief at seeing her brother.
“Give me the dagger,” he croaked, pain lacing his words.
Without saying anything, she allowed him to remove her hand. Once his fingers gripped the hilt, he pulled it up with a spray of dark blood and plunged his other hand into the wound. Luna struggled against the nausea bubbling up in her throat as she watched him pull out a barely beating heart from Lyulf’s chest.
But Michael wasn’t done yet.
Still clutching the heart on one hand, he sliced the dagger across the fae’s throat. The blade cut through bone and sinew as if carving through butter. A second later, Lyulf’s severed head rolled to the side.
Now he was dead.
Luna closed her eyes and fought against another surge of light-headedness.
Michael rose to his feet, his movements shaky. Pain and triumph stretched across his face. With the heart clutched in one hand and the dagger in the other, Michael threw back his head and let loose a bellowing howl.
It was a war-cry worthy of any alpha, of any king.
The rest of the pack joined in with their own voices. Their victory song echoed through the trees and rippled the dark surface of the pond. A tired smile played at the corners of her mouth. To her ears it sounded exquisite, as if the beauty of the wild had found a voice and performed for only her.
Then darkness swept across her vision and carried her away.
Epilogue
The sun caressed Luna’s face, and the light breeze played with her hair. After the stifling heat of the day, the breeze was a welcome relief. It felt as if a thousand cool fingers ran through her hair and brushed over her skin. A small smile pulled up the corners of her mouth.
Luna stared ahead, watching the tops of the trees swaying gently in the breeze. A steaming cup of Earl Grey lay nestled in the palm of her hands as she sat in an old rocking chair on the porch. The sweet song of birds chirping in the trees gave the sense of calm, as if nothing could possibly go wrong.
Her parent’s funerals had gone perfectly. They’d respected their parents’ wishes and had cremated them and the pastor delivered a heart-warming speech on how much they’d been loved by the community. Michael had held her hand throughout the ceremony, with Chase sitting on her other side handing tissues when needed. Dozens of people had come to express their condolences, but in the end, there had been too many for her to deal with so she’d escaped back to the house.
Despite the tragedy of it, Luna remained thankful she’d finally had the chance to say goodbye and Michael didn’t have to lose another family member. It could’ve been completely different.
After collapsing beside Lyulf’s decapitated body, Luna had woken up in hospital several days later only to immediately vomit all over the doctor. He’d actually been quite nice about it considering the awful smell. Luna wondered how bad it’d been for Chase and Michael with their extremely sensitive werewolf noses.
Only after her body had stopped throwing up, the doctor informed her she was suffering the effects of aconitine, or wolfsbane poisoning.
“Your brother tells me you fell into some wolfsbane,” he’d said, his forehead knotted. “The cuts on your back, hands, and face allowed the poison to enter your system much quicker than what it would just by touch. You’re incredibly lucky you only absorbed a limited amount. Anymore and you’d be dead.”
Luna could remember nodding, the exhaustion and weakness preventing her from doing anything other than that. After another several hours of sleep and a clearer head, Michael had explained everything. She’d collapsed, her body covered in sweat, barely able to breathe. They’d rushed her into hospital, where she’d fluttered in and out of unconsciousness for three days. They’d told the doctors she’d stumbled over a log and fell into a patch of wolfsbane. The doctor
s remained sceptical about the cuts on her back, but they advised them to dig up the flowers and burn them.
Two days since her release from the hospital and she’d never felt so relieved. She hated hospitals, always had. The tingling sensation had finally disappeared, along with the bouts of sweating and headaches, but her limbs still felt shaky. Thankfully, Michael had postponed the funerals until she felt ready.
But there had been other things she needed to do that no amount of time could prepare her for.
Once home, she’d found dozens of missed calls from Pierre. Part of her wished she could face Lyulf for a second time instead of confessing what she’d done, but she knew she couldn’t postpone telling him the truth. Not anymore.
At first, Pierre had remained silent, as if waiting for a punch line of some stupid joke, but then realised the truth in her words. The remainder of the conversation had been short and icy before Pierre hung up on her.
Chase had found her crying in her room, cold tears trailing down her face. No judgement sat in his eyes, only gentle acceptance. Soft lips had descended upon hers. No force, no demand; just a gentle kiss reminiscent of rain on a summer’s day. Something about Chase refreshed her, enticed her, promised her so much more than what she could imagine.
He was temptation personified.
Pierre had left her, rightly so. She hadn’t expected him to forgive her, not that she could forgive herself. The heavy blanket of betraying him still weighed heavy upon her shoulders, but what happened had happened. She couldn’t go back and change that. Nothing could.
Michael hadn’t said anything specifically, but Luna understood he didn’t like the idea of his best friend and his baby sister sleeping together. Tension still hung between the two friends – another thing she couldn’t undo.
Chase hadn’t pushed for more than that one kiss. “When you’re ready you’ll come to me and I’ll be waiting,” he told her, his breath warm on her ear, leaving behind that tantalising scent of wild herbs and pine on the air.
House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 18
