Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  16

  “I told you to be careful!” Woolsey yells at me.

  I try to back away. Why won’t my legs move? Why can’t the words explode from my mouth as he charges toward me?

  My wound pulses, itches, expands, shooting stars spreading along my skin, rippling, morphing changing.

  “The doctor, his wife?” says Woolsey. “Mauled to death. You, I assume. It’s always been you, hasn’t it?”

  “I had to do something to stop Red getting incriminated by killing your mate—”

  “—Kaya was not my mate.” Woolsey shoots a greedy look at me. Blaxton follows his gaze and laughs.

  “You’re too late,” Blaxton says, a smug tone full of pride. He looks at me and licks his lips.

  A wolfish grin as he sees me frozen to the spot. A smile that says, you’re mine.

  You can’t have her, I hear Grandma’s last promise.

  When Blaxton turns again, I see the mark fully—the black curve that follows the length of his spine like a question mark.

  But I have questions no longer.

  The white wolf. The black mark along its back as it ran yelping from Grandma’s murder.

  It was the one key piece of evidence I had forgotten about with the power of blooded morphed footprints, dead horses, knife blades and secrets.

  The two men stand, tense and coiled, regarding each other.

  “You claimed her then?” Woolsey says, full of spite.

  Words crash in my mind but stay dammed behind my frozen tongue.

  Blaxton smirks and nods. Where is the soft, gentle lover now? He swaggers toward me—the wolf who got the cream—and rests an arm around my shoulder. I can do nothing to push him away as a pulling sensation tugs at my soul, pulling me into the moon marks that suddenly glow blue and golden like the full moon slowly rising in the sky outside the window.

  Woolsey shakes his head, disgust on his face.

  “You cannot keep your place as leader of the pack after this abomination. There is already talk of a revolt. I had my suspicions and I will not hold the facts back. We are forbidden to bond with humans. We are not meant to turn them,” Woolsey snarls.

  Blaxton barks a laugh. “I can do what I want, just as my father did, and his before that.”

  “Well, congratulations. You did what they could not. Your grandfather failed when Scarlett killed him. Your father failed when Red’s mother took her own life rather than turn.” He pauses, watching me.

  I feel a clawing at my fingers and toes, something desperate to escape my body.

  The pain. The pressure. I scream at last but the sound echoes as a howl and I think I already know the truth.

  Claws rip through my fingertips.

  “What makes you think Red will ever forgive you for what you have done?” Woolsey shakes his head.

  “Because we’ve mated, and so the bond has been made.”

  Woolsey hisses with clenched fists and turns away, while Blaxton looks to the window. A smile, a sickening smile that I cannot believe he can wear on his perfect face pulls his lips apart like a bloody slash. And yet, a pulling, an animal magnetism toward him that I can’t shake.

  He killed Grandma, allowed me to believe I was going crazy.

  But the pull, stronger now, like lust and love and blood. I want to fight it, but cannot.

  “When the full moon reaches the highest point, her metamorphosis will be complete. And there will be nothing she won’t do for me. She was moon bitten by me, I am inside her—” he moves behind me, pulls my body into an embrace. His hands trail a line from my breasts to my stomach—lower still, and his breath shortens. “—I am inside her blood and sinew. And she will be mine. Forever. No matter what her dead and buried grandmother said.”

  You can never have her.

  I want to scream but my mind and body rip apart, pulling away from each other. Pulling away to allow the monster from within to emerge. I feel it. Fang and fur. Blood and lust. I revere the feel of his hard body against my own, but my soul revolts. My eyes beg Woolsey to help, but he looks on, helpless, all puppy-dog eyed. There is a hierarchy; I feel it now, instinctively. I feel Woolsey’s submission—my own. Blaxton’s dominance overpowering. Overbearing. Exquisite and beautiful.

  I am his.

  I rage against the feeling as I feel the pressure of the ticking clock. The countdown of my life as I know it, while the moon inches into the sky. I feel my limbs morph, change.

  Blaxton pushes his body harder against mine. “You’re nearly mine, beautiful,” he whispers in my ear. I equally love and loathe his words, fighting the new alien feeling of ownership, of powerlessness against my will. I know, with absolute certainty, I will be his. I feel the moon pulling at lung and liver, despite him killing Grandma. Despite my loathing and hurt and pain. Despite my vendetta and revenge. The moon is washing it all away and I can’t stop it.

  I am losing myself.

  Falling…

  Falling…

  Woolsey growls, and he doesn’t have to shift into a wolf for me to know his hackles are up.

  “Stand down, Woolsey,” Blaxton warns, moving in front of me—protecting his spoils.

  Woolsey dares a step forward.

  “You will never have her,” growls Blaxton as the full moon hits her highest point in the sky. Those words from his mouth slice and stab my soul. A pain, something to cling to as I fall into something new. Falling into animal power and instincts and wild, wild thoughts.

  You will never have her.

  I grip it with my mind, grip the cruel memories the words evoke as I lose all other sense of me.

  Trapped, paralyzed in my body as I brace against a noise I cannot escape—the curdling of Grandma’s blood stuck in her ravaged throat as she died.

  I howl.

  I change.

  I see the mean, greedy glint in Blaxton’s eyes—he sees me as his.

  He morphs. The white wolf with a question mark on his back and lust in his mind.

  And I have something on my mind too.

  Revenge.

  I pounce, fur and fang, my body light and agile as air. It is no longer Blaxton’s heart I desire, but his throat. I latch on. Snarling, ripping, pulling—despite his yelps, and moans, and empty eyes losing their golden glow. His blood tastes as good as a debt paid in full and I feast in the retribution.

  “Red! Red, please, stop.”

  And I do stop, breath heaving as I turn.

  Woolsey, with his greedy eyes. No. Mistaken. I feel it now, an instinct. A knowing in my animal bones. They were never greedy, they were, what?

  Longing.

  And it all fits into place.

  Woolsey turning up at Blaxton’s cabin when the ravaged beast feasted on his own horse.

  The warning at the funeral, ‘Be careful. Be very careful.’

  The stand-off at the doctor’s house.

  Saving me from a pack attack.

  He wasn’t watching me with greed, but with concern. With fear. With… my shoulders drop as the most innate human emotion pulls at my animal heart.

  Love.

  I pounce, shape shifting as I pound into Woolsey’s arms, knocking us both to the ground. And with blood stained lips, we kiss. And I hear Grandma’s voice no more.

  There are more important things than mourning the dead after all.

  Loving the living.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Angharad Thompson Rees is a poet, comic scriptwriter, and author of both the MG fantasy Magic and Mage series, and the Magical Adventures and Pony Tales children’s series. A former equine professional with over 15 years experience working with top-class horses, Angharad now incorporates her knowledge into her equine-themed fantasy series, creating fast-moving plots that gallop along at speed! Having recently attended Robert McKee’s Story seminar in New York, Angharad is currently writing her first screenplay centered around mystical and historical events in her new country of residence, Australia.

  Also by Angharad Thom
pson Rees

  The Magic and Mage Series

  Witch Hearts

  Fire Heart

  Dragon Heart

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  Acknowledgments

  All of this wouldn’t have been possible without the talent - the authors. Thank you so much to Halston James, Sonya Jesus, Suzan Lee, Kelsie Rae, Angharad Thompson Rees, K.Z. Riley and Courtney Shockey.

  You ladies worked your butts off for this, and we truly appreciate all the hard work you’ve put in.

  Another huge thank you to you, the reader! Thank you for picking this book up and giving it a try. With any luck, you’ve found some new go-to authors among this collection and we hope you’ll continue supporting us with our future releases.

  About Vixen Publishing

  Vixen Publishing is a small-press publisher based out of Melbourne, Australia. It specialises in publishing anthologies.

  Here at Vixen, we're dedicated to working with indie authors and making their dreams of getting published a reality.

  In 2019, we will be releasing two anthologies: Dawn to Dark: A Collection of Fairy Tale Retellings & a Single Dad Romance Anthology, due for release in October.

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