The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3)

by Monica La Porta

  “He wasn’t perfect.” Mama Bee focused back on Mirella. “And what was left of his humanity died with Sophia, and being cursed with a long life only made him crazy.”

  “How did he die?” Mirella had heard the half-whispered rumors about the werewolf who killed himself, but it had happened before she was even born, and people tended to talk about Marcellus in hushed tones, if they talked about him at all.

  “He drove his freighter into the outer atmosphere, then opened the hatch—” Mama Bee closed her eyes, her hands fisting the fabric of her tunic. “I imagine he smiled at the end, eager to stop remembering his Sophia.” When she opened her eyes again, a solitary tear fell to her cheek. “He wasn’t a good person, but it pained me not to be able to ease his suffering.” When neither Mirella nor Crea uttered a word, she continued. “Valentine became the new master, and I asked him if I could leave the harem. I was barely nineteen, and I needed a change of life. Valentine offered to buy me a house in Adris, but I refused and only took with me a few of the gifts Marcellus had given me. Still, your husband found ways to help me and has been my restaurant’s most loyal client for more than forty years.” Mama Bee wiped the moisture from her eyes, then smiled at her silent audience. “Crea, would you be so nice as to refresh my cup?”

  Crea sprinted into action, leaving behind a confused Mirella and her mixed thoughts about her father-in-law and the midwife.

  When the silence became uncomfortable for Mirella, she was saved from having to start a new topic of conversation by Crea’s return, and a moment later by Martali’s arrival.

  “Do you have news?” Mirella asked the head guard, who was breathless and sweaty as if he had run.

  “We have rescued Balenus, and he’s currently resting in his quarters,” Martali announced, bending at the knees.

  “How is he?”

  “Tired and thinner, but overall in satisfying condition, and the ancillae are taking care of him.”

  “What about Dragon and Gabriel? Are they back, too?”

  “They are on their way to the manor.” Martali walked further inside the chamber.

  “Did they find anything about the kidnappers?”

  “No, unfortunately—” Martali sighed heavily, then said, “But we were able to evacuate and secure the area around the hydrosauruses’ pool, and the drop off went without a hitch. No civilians were injured, and Balenus was released right away.”

  “It’s fantastic news,” Mirella said, then saw the frown on the head guard’s face. “Isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Martali answered, but his expression still didn’t convey the meaning of his words. He accepted the cup of tea Crea had poured for him, and his hand lingered a moment too long on hers when he thanked her.

  “It was too easy,” Mirella murmured low. A sudden chill swept over her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Captain, we’re going to sail back earlier than planned,” Valentine informed Venezio through a communication mirror.

  “Very well, Master. When you wish to depart?” the captain asked from the commanding deck of the Voyage Beagle.

  “As soon as possible.”

  The briefest of pause was followed by, “I estimate five hours before launching.”

  “I’ll board in four hours then.” Valentine saluted Venezio, then tried to contact Lobo Manor again to inform Mirella of his departing schedule, but Sidera Prime’s orbit had entered the dark zone already.

  Intentioned to use every minute at his disposal before he left the space station, Valentine hurried to the Brotherhood Library and started a desperate session of speed reading. He read through several tomes, committing to memory any detail he deemed worth remembering while skimming any point he found merely anecdotal.

  He was halfway through a book on birthing when he found handwritten notes at the margins of the worn pages. His mind was filled with much knowledge he wouldn’t have time to filter until later, and his tired eyes would have skipped the notes, but the calligraphy looked familiar. A second glance confirmed his suspicions. Marcellus’s strong hand had penned the minute notes.

  Valentine read through several columns of seemingly random considerations, but went back to one note that Marcellus had written using a darker ink.

  I found evidence that a few blessed brides survived their pregnancies and breastfed their newborns, but those mothers died within the week. Autopsies weren’t conducted, and the bodies were cremated as custom.

  Per Lupine’s laws, a residual from the colonists’ space traveling mindset, corporeal remains were to be cremated, and for that reason, Blessed Brides had their statues commissioned soon after the pregnancy was made public, so that their physical appearance would be forever celebrated. The part that drew Valentine’s attention was that his father mentioned proofs about blessed brides surviving birthing, if even for a few days. Where had Marcellus found that piece of information? By now, Valentine had read thousands of pages and not a single sentence attesting to what Marcellus declared.

  One glance at the numbers projected on the wall told Valentine that he was running out of time. He had less than an hour before having to return to the Beagle. He wished he could ask for a delay, but once the ship’s departure process had started, it was difficult to stop.

  He frantically redefined his search, asking the library to show him texts that contained references to nursing or anything related to werewolf infants’ care, hoping to find mentions of breastfeeding mothers. Half an hour passed but he was nowhere near finding what he was looking for.

  In a moment of frustration, he threw the book he was reading against the wall.

  “Vandalism not allowed. First warning,” the ghostly voice of Marcellus announced. “Confirm you understand.”

  Valentine growled in anger, but refrained from repeating the action, knowing that a second warning would see him ejected from the premises by a mechanical worker with silver appendices. He could have fought the worker to release some of his pent-up energy, but it would make him waste precious time.

  “Vandalism not allowed. First warning. Confirm you understand,” Marcellus repeated.

  “I understand,” Valentine said out loud for his answer to be recorded. He didn’t want to listen to the message a third time.

  “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  Knowing the drill, Valentine waited for the voice to speak again.

  Sure enough, a moment later it said, “Warnings accrued to date, four thousand six hundred twenty-five. Violations accrued to date, two thousand four hundred thirteen.”

  The room’s lighting dimmed and changed tone, from bright white to a more soothing eggshell. A hiss interrupted the silence, and calming, perfumed chemicals were pumped into the library.

  Inhaling the flowery scent he always associated with rage, Valentine resigned himself to calm down forcefully. On Sidera Prime, toward the end of its millennial voyage, keeping the peace had become imperative. Since it was illegal to drug a person without his or her knowledge, it was decided to lace the chemicals with artificial floral scents to let the person know of the incoming treatment. Peony was used for first warning situations. People came to recognize the various perfumes at once and acted accordingly to avoid the brainwashing. As a repeat offender, Valentine had experienced the whole menu of flavors more than once.

  Suitably calmer, he resumed his search.

  “Master Lobo, Brother Aretius requires your presence,” robotic Marcellus said, interrupting Valentine’s pursuit of cramming as much reading as he could in the last few minutes aboard the space station.

  He swore under his breath. He had all but forgotten about visiting the brother before leaving and couldn’t refuse a direct summons. Brother Aretius could decide to revoke Valentine’s visiting rights to Sidera Prime, and he couldn’t afford that.

  Exiting the library took all his willpower. Defeated, he grabbed his father’s diary and gave the room one last look. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, his father’s disembodied voice reminded him he was
in violation of the library rules. Holding the journal tighter, he ignored the warning, then sprinted toward the Brotherhood Chamber, forcing the directional arrow to keep up with his pace.

  “I see that you are taking your leave earlier,” Aretius said as soon as Valentine entered the chamber. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “No, I didn’t, but I must go back to Lupine. House Lobo has been attacked, and my bride hasn’t fared well in my absence.” The words weighed heavily on Valentine’s heart. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Aretius floated silently, waiting for Valentine to state his request.

  “I wish to take my father’s diary with me.” Valentine had copied a few notes from the most salient parts, but there were passages that he wished to read again and at length.

  “It’s part of the Brotherhood Library, is it not?”

  Valentine nodded. “It ended up in the library.”

  “Are you going to take it anyway?”

  “I’d like your permission.”

  Aretius cackled, and it was frightening because the sound lacked the warm quality that made laughter pleasant to the ear. “You’ve never changed. You are the same undisciplined brat you were in your youth, just more powerful.”

  Valentine’s lips curved up by their own volition. “May I have your permission?”

  “Do you think there’s some hidden truth among the words your father wrote in that notebook you hold so tight to?” Aretius’s tone seemed to mock him, but Valentine knew better. The brother was above such pettiness. He only cared for the betterment of their species.

  “I hope to find something in it—” Valentine hesitated. “I love my bride, and I would do anything to save her life.”

  “Very well then. Take the notebook,” Aretius said. “We’ll contact you.”

  Dismissed, Valentine thanked the brother and left.

  ****

  The flight back never seemed to end to Valentine. In reality, favorable currents helped them arrive earlier than scheduled. Venezio had to wait for airspace control to give the go ahead and let them reenter Lupine’s atmosphere.

  Having barely slept, Valentine took a regenerative shower in his quarters, then joined the captain and the rest of the crew on the deck, and even commanded the Beagle to land outside the manor. No amount of activity was enough to calm his jittery state, but he could slow his breathing long enough to appear calm when he exited the ship.

  Martali was waiting just outside the hangar and hurried toward him. “Welcome home, Master.”

  “Were you able to retrieve Balenus?” Valentine asked, jumping down the last step of the retractable stairs, his eyes on the stony manor.

  “Yes—” Martali couldn’t finish his thought.

  “Valentine!” A vision in turquoise entered the hangar in a swirl of auburn hair that came undone as Mirella ran toward him, a small army of people following her a few steps behind.

  “Slow down, please,” Crea begged, but Mirella didn’t heed the suggestion and doubled her pace instead.

  Without thinking, he sprinted, unable to wait for the few heartbeats it would take her to reach him, and his bride was in his arms but a moment later. Mirella’s sweet scent surrounded him, making him dizzy with want. Her heart thumped loud in her ribcage, matching the fury of his own.

  “Kitten,” he whispered to her parted lips, tightening his hold on her. “Shouldn’t you be locked down inside the safe quarters?”

  “I threw a bit of a tantrum,” she sheepishly whispered.

  “Mirella—” His reprimand died on his lips, forgotten when she sighed against him.

  His hands splayed against her back, he pressed her small body against him, taking her mouth in a savage kiss. He didn’t care that they had an audience. Only Mirella mattered.

  After being asleep for the longest time, his wolf stirred, waking with a loud yawn, then pranced on all fours, excited, his barks joyous as he greeted Mirella in its own way.

  Mirella leaned away from Valentine’s embrace. Her eyes wide as she asked, “Is it your wolf I see in my mind?”

  “You can see my wolf?” Valentine was so shocked, he let go of her.

  With a blooming smile, Mirella nodded. “And it’s not alone. There’s also a cute russet puppy frolicking around. Is it our son’s wolf?”

  “I suppose…” Valentine started. “That’s—” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “Incredible.” He was about to ask about the puppy when his wolf moved to the side, uncovering a small ball of fur that had been hiding behind its larger body. “My son’s wolf!” He kissed Mirella, then turned to face the silent audience, comprised of Dragon, Gabriel, Crea, and even Mama Bee, who were all looking at them with smiles on their faces. “I can see my son’s wolf!” he said.

  “That’s wonderful,” Dragon replied, his eyes dancing from Valentine to Mirella and back.

  “To feel a new life, that’s a miracle,” Gabriel said, stepping forward to slap Valentine’s shoulder. In his voice, the faintest hint of sadness, but Valentine knew his friend’s words were true.

  In his mind, the russet puppy made the most adorable sounds, more meowling than barking, as it followed the larger wolf around, a few times stumbling on its big paws.

  He bent to whisper in Mirella’s ear, “I wish I could see our son.”

  She caressed her belly where the smallest of bumps was taking shape. “Soon. We’ll have him soon in our arms.” Rising her eyes to him, she smiled. “I can’t wait.”

  And like that, Valentine was forced to remember he lived in a reality where the image Mirella had depicted would only be a dream.

  For the second time, Valentine was left without words, but Gabriel saved him by interrupting their private conversation.

  “Balenus is well,” Gabriel said. “Would you like to talk to him?”

  Visiting the medicus was the last thing on Valentine’s mind, but it seemed that lately, his life wasn’t about what he wanted, but more and more about what was expected of him.

  “I’ll have a bath ready for when you come back.” Mirella’s eyes shone with joy, and he found himself nodding at Gabriel.

  “Let’s go to Balenus right away,” he said, already planning the rest of the night with a naked Mirella in his mind.

  Second Part

  Lupine, Lobo Manor, a few months later…

  Chapter Fourteen

  Waking in Valentine’s arms, Mirella smiled at the new day.

  All was well with the world. She was six months pregnant, her son was growing strong, and if it weren’t for the nausea and fatigue that still plagued her, she wouldn’t have any reason to complain. Valentine had not left again after his trip to Sidera Prime, and the terrorists had gone into hiding, leaving them alone. Free to enjoy each other’s company without having to worry about external threats to their happiness, they had grown as a couple, and Valentine didn’t miss any opportunity to show her his devotion.

  Endless afternoons were spent in Valentine’s art studio, where, after drawing her portraits, he played with her all those sensual games for which he seemed to have an uncanny predisposition and ever-improving skills. Eventually, he showed her the gifts hidden in the closet, and Mirella’s collection of personal jewels grew by several beautiful items.

  A most recent episode which had involved soft leather binds, feathers, and one of those gifts, came back to her, heating her skin and leaving her breathless. She was half of a mind to wake her gloriously-naked husband with an intimate kiss when her stomach growled. Feeling the too-familiar pangs of hunger, she stifled a chuckle and pulled her arm free as she extricated herself from Valentine’s hold.

  “Where are you going?” Valentine asked with a sleepy voice, his arm sneaking around her tummy and gently tugging her closer to him before she could reach the edge of the mattress.

  “Let me go.” She swatted at his arm playfully, but he caged her with both arms instead, his hands on her round belly. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’m hungry, too,” he said, e
asily reversing their positions, and pressing her down between the pillows and the silken sheets. With his expert fingers, he got rid of her camisole. “I don’t understand why you still bother wearing something to bed,” he mused, and she wondered the same, but sighed instead of answering. He then grabbed her wrists in one hand and raised her arms over her head. “You know the rules,” he whispered against her throat. Keep them there.

  Mirella arched her back when he started his slow and thorough exploration of her body, knowing how the morning scene would end and greedily anticipating every step of it. Valentine was a man of habit; she had discovered that in the last few months.

  “I prefer to consume my breakfast in bed,” he explained to her the morning after he came back home from the space station. Only his first meal in the morning didn’t include food.

  Her hunger soon forgotten, she let him feast on her body as he regaled her with the most pleasurable of awakenings.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said afterwards, cradling her as she lazily stretched in his arms, purring her contentment.

  “A surprise?” she asked. “Another personal jewel?”

  He smiled. “Let’s have a bath first.” Without letting go of her, he took her to the bathroom and deposited her into the spacious pool at its center. He had the old bathtub removed and replaced it with the sunken pool a few months earlier.

  “What surprise?” she asked again after a bath that evolved into more lovemaking as soon as he stepped into the pool.

  “Let’s put some clothes on,” he answered with a lazy smile.

  Dressing took longer than anticipated because Valentine liked her naked and kept complaining she wore too many layers.

  “What surprise?” she asked one more time, pulling at the strings of the corset of her new maternity dress.

  As soon as Mirella’s belly had started growing, Valentine ordered a whole new wardrobe for her. From Genevieve Lafrette. The fashion designer who only created a gown a year made more than thirty dresses for Mirella, each one more beautiful than the last. The ethereal-looking Celestian vampire wanted to meet with Mirella through communication mirrors and designed gown after gown while talking to her client, asking numerous questions about Mirella’s maternity and what she liked to do in her free time. A month later, a freighter from Celestia delivered a leather portmanteau, large enough to fit both Mirella and Crea inside. They opened the travelling case as soon as Aldo brought it into the master closet and stared at the dresses in wonder for a good ten minutes without saying a word.