Moon Claimed: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 2)

by Kelly St Clare

The cold shoulders of those in the manor bounced off me as I walked to the office. I inserted the key and turned it.

  She’d changed the fucking lock again.

  Standing back, I kicked the entrance in. Today was not the day to fuck with me.

  No one was inside—lucky for them—and I propped open the splintered door as best as possible before settling at the desk.

  I stared at my phone, willing Sascha to call. I could feel the elastic sensation pulling tighter, moving systematically as he searched for Wade.

  “Hey, Andie?” Eleanor said from the door. “There was a call for you. Something about a problem out at Sandstone.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll call them.”

  I swallowed hard, checking the desk clock. Time for my first meeting. I stood on autopilot.

  This day would drag forever.

  As long as Wade was safe at the end of it, I didn’t care.

  2:00 p.m.

  Sascha hadn’t replied to my string of texts. He could be out of reception, but I was one more text from losing my cool.

  Hands shaking, I gathered the reports and filed them in my drawer.

  Nope. I couldn’t stand it.

  I had to go to pack lands now.

  “Hey, Andie,” Eleanor said from the door. “Sandstone called again. They didn’t hear from you.”

  I groaned. “Totally forgot. I’ll give them a call now. Did they say what the issue was?”

  “There’s something they needed you to sign off on. That’s all I got.”

  Grids was there tonight. I couldn’t ignore this. Reaching for the phone, I looked up the number for Sandstone reception and dialled.

  It rang out.

  I tried again.

  “Fuck.” I jammed the phone down.

  2:10 p.m.

  Driving there took forty minutes. I could make it there and back for the pack gathering at four.

  Just.

  And it would give me something to do.

  Entering the Sandstone number into my personal phone, I dialled again, jogging down the hall to my car.

  No answer.

  Ella F came to life and I stilled. What if the problem in Sandstone had to do with Wade and the black wolf? Surely not.

  There were over a hundred workers in the quarry. There’s no way one Luther overthrew all of those trained stewards.

  Shaking panic off, I started the drive to the quarry.

  Panic won’t help your pack, my wolf said.

  I don’t know how to stop feeling panic.

  We’ll tear out the throat of the Luther responsible for this. Focus on that.

  I gripped the wheel, trying the thought of murder on for size, but I wasn’t much for seeking blood. I just wanted Wade back.

  Driving through the quarry car park, I scanned the other cars. Some stewards had left to prepare for the game, but there had to be at least fifty vehicles around.

  My chest loosened. I’m way too on edge.

  Locking the car, I checked my phone, frantically opening Sascha’s message.

  Searched the south side. He’s not here.

  See you soon.

  The black wolf would be a fool to hide Wade on pack lands. I’d known that and still hoped.

  I opened the reception door. “Hello?”

  Hanson was head admin for Sandstone. I looked into the staff and storage rooms. Closing the door behind me, I walked toward the sheds, ignoring staring workers.

  “Andie!”

  I silently berated myself for jumping as Hanson approached. “Hey. Eleanor got a call from someone here who needed me.”

  He frowned. “Did she say who called? Oh.” He straightened, “It was probably about approval to clear the next quarry zone. We need the proposal assessed to make sure care for the land is displayed before work starts.”

  Dammit, this wasn’t urgent at all.

  “Who should I speak to?”

  “Foley’s in the far shed. He’s your guy.”

  He wasn’t my guy, and he certainly wasn’t my favourite guy after Clay.

  I’d arrange a time to return after Wade was found. This wasn’t a priority at all. And assessing their proposal would take longer than the twenty minutes I had before the drive back.

  Colour me a hypocrite, but Wade’s life was far more important to me than tribe matters.

  I entered the large shed that housed the cherry pickers.

  “Foley?”

  “Yeah?” came a shout.

  “It’s Andie. Hanson said you had a proposal for me?” I moved into the shed and spotted him in the back office.

  The stench of oil overwhelmed my senses and I covered my nose with my tank top. Gross.

  Foley appeared, wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey, yeah. It’s back here.”

  How did he stand this smell all day? My eyes watered. “I’ll take it with me to review. I should have it back in a few days tops.”

  “There’s no real rush.”

  I don’t like him, my wolf said.

  Yeah, he’s kind of spineless.

  Not that. Look at his eyes.

  Foley handed me a bound document, eyes never lifting higher than my chin.

  Right. I see what you mean.

  He’s jumpy.

  “Foley,” I called as a machine started up behind us. “Is everything okay?”

  He licked his lips. “It’s just… I’m sorry about my part in what happened in Clay. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  There was so much stink in here, I couldn’t tell truth from lie. He did look sheepish. “That’s why you were put on probation instead of exiled from the tribe. I know—I hope—that those involved will see the error of their decisions. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

  Though, in my experience, most people blew it.

  Ragna.

  Herc.

  Murphy.

  Rhona.

  Me.

  I jerked at a sharp pain in my back. “What?”

  Spinning, the world slanted as I stared into Rhona’s emerald gaze. My gaze dropped to what she held.

  A tranquiliser gun.

  I stumbled to the side, knees buckling. Sliding across the floor, unable to support myself, my blinks became heavier.

  So heavy.

  Rhona crouched over me. “It’s time for the truth, sister, don’t you think?”

  26

  Ouch.

  My head.

  Hands.

  Body.

  I tried to speak, but my lips couldn’t open. Jolting awake, my eyes flew open. I couldn’t move my hands!

  Oh my god.

  Was there duct tape over my mouth?

  The world swayed like an ocean, and I choked back rising bile that couldn’t escape with the tape over my mouth.

  Are you okay? I asked my wolf.

  Don’t feel good.

  Rhona shot me with a dart. A fucking dart. That she hated me enough to resort to that method nearly brought forth a free surge of vomit.

  I really didn’t feel so good.

  Where was I?

  My feet were bound with rope. They’d bound my hands in front of me with rope too. I was lying on a metal floor. The small platform had rail sides. A remote-control panel sat above my head.

  I was in a cherry picker tray.

  Blinking, I studied the twilight sky above me.

  We’re not in the shed, I thought at her.

  How long had passed?

  I tensed at the telltale boom of the cannon. Shit. The game had started? We’d been out for hours. Or they’d shot us multiple times.

  I struggled against my bonds. This couldn’t mean anything good. Rhona wanted me out of the game. She had something planned.

  The tray jolted down, and I choked back fresh nausea.

  We cannot shift, my wolf slurred.

  The sedative affected her more than me, but she was right. I couldn’t feel my wolf form. I should be able to hear and smell far better than this. We needed this tranquiliser to wear off, which
meant not getting shot again.

  These human limitations were debilitating. I felt so vulnerable.

  Head lolling, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body as the tray continued to lower.

  “She still out?” someone asked.

  Valerie.

  What a cow.

  A hand gently slapped my face. The male sighed. “Yeah. She’s out.”

  Billy.

  Let’s make a coat out of their skin after this, my wolf said.

  The thought nearly overturned my stomach again. Not happening.

  You have coats made of other animals’ skin.

  Fake leather, but… Can we discuss this another time?

  “Maybe we should give her another dose just in case,” Valerie said. “We don’t want her to wake during Rhona’s speech.”

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s awake or not during the Stabattse. She’s tied up.”

  What the hell was a Stabattse?

  It was kind of familiar. Had I read the term before? Billy placed particular inflection on the word. It was important.

  Ceremonial.

  And it contained the word stab so it couldn’t be anything great.

  Valerie nudged my thigh. “Maybe I just feel like shooting her.”

  Billy said, “The plan seemed simple but seeing her tied up makes me feel crap. There must have been a better way to do this.”

  “Tell that to Herc.”

  He didn’t reply, and my hopes for release vanished. One of them checked the bindings on my hands and feet.

  “Okay,” Valerie said, excitement tinging her voice. “Let’s take her over.”

  Her footsteps faded, and Billy crouched at my head, prying the tape off my mouth.

  “They shouldn’t have put this on. What if you vomit?” he said.

  I deserved a damn Academy Award for keeping the act up during that.

  I could move my mouth again. Should I give up the act and reason with him?

  Wait until I can help you, my wolf urged.

  Obeying, I didn’t budge as Billy left the tray. The tray rose once more, and soon after the cherry picker truck drove forward with us suspended high above.

  At least we could be certain Rhona hadn’t learned about my Luther status or she never would’ve left me alone.

  I cracked open my eyes.

  We were still in Sandstone, moving across the ground level of the quarry. Where were the stewards? The cannon had boomed. The first one, I assumed, for no reason other than Billy and Valerie were with me. Stewards should be on the tier just above my tray by now. Others should also be rock-climbing into position.

  Whatever this Stabattse was, it wasn’t good.

  How are you feeling?

  Her voice was still weak. Can’t stay awake.

  Lifting my bound hands to my mouth, I tugged at the rope knotted around my wrists.

  Whoever tied this was good. Without access to my fangs, I wasn’t getting anywhere.

  The sounds of a crowd reached my feeble ears. The temptation to roll and look over the edge was real, but I couldn’t risk alerting anyone to my conscious state.

  My heart pounded as I strained to listen.

  A large crowd.

  There was a definite edge to their murmurs and whispers. Suspense? They didn’t know what was happening, perhaps.

  I’d wager a guess every fighting steward was in attendance by the volume.

  Someone tapped a microphone, and the volume of the crowd surged before dropping away.

  “We, the Ni Tiaki tribe, ancient guardians of this land, call a Stabattse. Luthers, come forward as witness to our words,” Rhona said.

  I stilled. Oh, fuck.

  Was this like a cease-fire thing?

  Her voice was serene, not defensive or angry, and that couldn’t mean anything good. What was she going to do to them? It had to involve me. Or did she just want me out of the way?

  Sascha would be down there too. If he’d replied to Rhona, then my human ears were too weak to pick it up.

  He’ll feel where we are, my wolf said.

  He would have known something was wrong when I didn’t show for the meeting at 4:00 p.m.

  My eyes widened.

  Wade!

  I renewed my efforts on the ropes.

  “Stewards.” Rhona’s magnified voice boomed through Sandstone, though I couldn’t tell exactly where she was. “I have a confession to make. I am not Andie as I’ve led you to believe.”

  Shocked outcries rang out.

  “I apologise for the subterfuge, but as you’ll soon hear, the leader, who I have the misfortune to call sister, is unworthy of her position.”

  Giving up on the rope, I listened over my erratic breaths.

  “Some of you have found my recent behaviour selfish and dangerous. Many of you blame me for the loss of Clay. You see my actions as intended to divide and split the tribe. But you’ll see that my actions were in response to learning something horrific, something heart-breaking, not long ago.”

  The stewards were quiet. It was the attentive silence I’d experienced once before. The type where people were deathly curious.

  She’d tell them, and then what? I had to assume they’d drag me out for show and tell, otherwise what was the point in bringing me at all?

  “In this grid, mere months ago, I ran through the forest to find Andie crouched over my father. His neck had been broken by the Luther standing right there. At that time, Andie worked in The Dens on our orders—or so we thought. She’d conveyed her worry about a new tension from the Luthers at work. I was concerned but accepted her word when she told me it was being handled.”

  I closed my eyes, heart sinking.

  We’ll get through this, my wolf whispered.

  Rhona continued. “My father was dead, and I sat beside Andie in his office before the will reading, wondering how I’d ever fill his shoes. Andie sat beside me and convinced me I was ready.”

  I had. Lying all the while.

  Clearly, she thought back on that moment as much as me.

  “You saw my shock at the will reading. I’d been lied to my entire life by my father. By my mother too. At the same moment, the role I believe myself born for was swept away. I was afloat with no idea where to go next. But there was an upside. I had a sister. If anyone could do the job, it was her.”

  A lump rose in my throat.

  “You saw her that day too,” Rhona said. “The way she stood by my side. The way she accepted these huge changes without tears or fear. You saw how she effortlessly slid into the role of head steward—after mere weeks playing the game. Like me, I’m sure you marvelled and rejoiced that, even if we’d lost an unforgettable leader, somehow, somehow, we’d found another.”

  My nose twitched. The muted scents of those below ticked my awakening senses. The scents grew stronger, and soon I could identify the massive group of Luthers standing on the edges of Sandstone.

  I had my nose back.

  “I started to notice things,” Rhona said, and no one stirred beneath my tray. “I started to notice Sascha Greyson’s behaviour around my sister. We all witnessed the way he went for her in Sandstone that day. We believed he sought vengeance for her subterfuge at The Dens. Something he couldn’t seek outside of the game without risking penalty points. But the more I looked, the more I saw that wasn’t the case. There was something else happening.”

  A Stabattse had to be a takeover. A change in leadership. That was Rhona’s aim here.

  Rhona’s voice was hoarse. “My only defence for not putting everything together at that moment is that I loved my sister. I trusted my sister. The terrible truth never occurred to me. Instead, foolishly, I told her my growing theory in excitement for how we might use it in the grid.” Her breath hitched.

  Shame spread through me unchecked.

  I’d treated Rhona so badly.

  My ears sharpened, and I sorted through the sudden onslaught, absorbing the sound of shuffling feet and whispered comments between stewards.


  I felt the tug of Sascha’s presence beneath my ribs.

  He was here and watching.

  “Andie cautioned me though,” she said. “We had to be careful with how we used this theory of mine. It could give the wrong impression to the tribe. I wanted her to succeed, so I listened. But even at that point, my instincts told me something was amiss. I began to watch her, fearful that something more was happening, and she was in danger. I watched as she asked to be removed to a cabin on the outskirts of our tribe. I worried about her lack of protection out there. I’d just lost my father. I couldn’t lose her too.”

  I couldn’t take it.

  Rolling very slowly, I peered over the edge.

  There she was, back to the Luthers as she addressed the tribe. One hundred metres separated the wolves from us. The Luthers stood in their usual rows, faces impassive as they watched on.

  I dragged my eyes to the middle of the front row and looked into honey eyes. Sascha stared up at me, and blinking a few times to focus, I took in the scent of his utter fury.

  He tore his gaze away, and I did the same, rolling flat in case Rhona glanced from the pile of sandstone bricks she stood upon.

  “My worry turned to suspicion at last,” Rhona called. “Hating myself for doing so, I watched the camera footage from around her cabin. On it I caught her in a lie. And so I confronted her. I like to think Andie’s words then were honest, though with how thoroughly she’d fooled us all, I’ll never be sure.”

  Ouch.

  I feel stronger, my wolf said.

  Fangs and claws stronger?

  Soon.

  I shoved back my urgency, knowing it wouldn’t help.

  “Andie Booker is Sascha Greyson’s mate. His one and only mate. And she has known it since the first day she entered the valley.”

  That was a stretch of the fucking truth.

  Maybe the stewards didn’t really know what a mate was, but it wasn’t hard to guess, especially with the amount of venom Rhona injected into the word.

  “I’d told her that Sascha Greyson wanted her. That was my theory. I thought he was obsessed over her and it could be used against him in the grid. My sister looked me in the eye and said she’d work on it. That’s why she moved to the cabin. So he could visit. The day I showed up at the cabin unannounced, she answered the door naked. A half-dressed Sascha Greyson was also inside.”