Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
A Totally Bound Publication
Run with the Moon
ISBN # 978-1-78430-394-5
©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2015
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.
Valen’s Pack
RUN WITH THE MOON
Bailey Bradford
Book one in the Valen’s Pack series
Two species that have always kept themselves separated are about to collide and create a new world.
Humanity almost managed to do itself in. Ravaged by wars and plagues, the human population on earth has been bordering on extinction, although pockets of people have been forging on over the past few hundred years. It’s a hard life, and one Aaron Olsen fears he doesn’t fit into. As a son of a village leader, there are pressures on him he can’t manage, and things he keeps hidden, desires he doesn’t know how to express that keep him up many nights as he worries over them.
Valen is an alpha, born with the crescent moon mark on his chest. It means he’ll have to leave the pack he was born and raised in. It is the way of the wolf, and the only way to prevent it is to fight his father. Valen has no intention of doing such a dishonorable thing. He leaves as he’s supposed to, only to find himself the victim of thievery. When he hunts down the party responsible for stealing his belongings, Valen finds himself attracted to the human Aaron Olsen.
Now, if they can only survive their own pride and insecurities, and an attack that threatens everything they love, they just might have a chance at happiness in Valen’s Pack.
Dedication
To my family. I love y’all madly.
Chapter One
Being born an alpha wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, despite what Rivvie said. Valen glared at his older brother and pack mate—although the latter would be changing very soon.
Valen crossed his arms over his chest, irritation getting the better of him. “No, it isn’t cool that I’m going to get to start my own pack. I have to leave behind everyone and everything I’ve known, Rivvie. Why would that be cool?”
Rivvie sighed as if Valen was the dumbest wolf shifter in existence. “It’s an adventure, dude. You get to go off and explore the world, see new places, maybe even meet an actual human, if there’re any of them left. How is that not cool? Added to that, you are the boss of you and anyone joining your pack? I am so frickin’ jealous. Ugh.” Rivvie exhaled and sent the thick fringe of blond bangs fluttering wildly around his forehead. “It’s not fair. I’m the oldest. I should have been the alpha. You don’t even have an ounce of fun in your body.”
Valen didn’t bother to ask what fun had to do with anything. Rivvie only made sense about half the time when he spoke. Valen stared at his brother, who was very close to being pretty, with his perfect features and golden blond hair. Then Valen thought of his own dark, wild hair and his less than perfect looks. He was as rough and tumble in appearance as Rivvie was beautiful.
“It is what it is,” Valen finally said, since Rivvie kept standing there, waiting for something from him. “I love this pack. This is home, Rivvie. These trees that you and I climbed and ran under.” He gestured at the towering pines, thick with foliage. “This earth we pawed at and tumbled on.” Valen toed the ground, the soil dark and loose. Stirring it brought the musky scent of fecund earth rising up to his nostrils. “The flowers and river—”
“Oh my gods, you are such a sentimental idiot,” Rivvie muttered before laughing. “You have gotta be the weirdest alpha ever.”
Valen was inclined to agree, since any alpha he’d ever known, including their father, would have ripped into anyone for talking like that to him. Those could have even been fighting words, except Valen knew Rivvie didn’t want to challenge him. No, Rivvie just wanted to be an alpha and he wasn’t. It was Valen who had been born with the crest of the moon on him. It was an undeniable brown mark in the shape of a crescent moon right above Valen’s left nipple. That mark proclaimed his status to all who saw him, whether he wanted to be an alpha or not.
“Maybe something went wrong in the womb,” Rivvie mused, frowning as he rubbed his chin. “There were how many in the litter with you?”
Valen didn’t answer. Rivvie was being difficult just for the hell of it. He knew full well that Valen was the only pup out of the six that had survived. It was common enough in their kind for such things to happen when a large litter was being carried.
“That’s right. Five others,” Rivvie said, snapping his fingers. “And only you survived. They say—”
“I know what they say,” Valen snapped, his temper flaring. “I don’t fucking need to hear it!” He’d heard more than once that he was the only survivor because he’d battled the others in utero. It was a ridiculous piece of gossip that wouldn’t be stopped. Everyone seemed to think he should glory in it. He didn’t.
Rivvie hummed. “Oh, look at you getting all growly and alpha-y. See? You do have it in you.”
Valen cradled his head in his hands. Why did he even bother trying to talk to his brother? Rivvie never understood. None of his siblings did. Though he was the only one from his litter, his parents had managed to bring three other litters to full bearing. Each had resulted in two pups, and they were all older than Valen. He’d definitely been a surprise, coming out an alpha.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Valen asked Rivvie.
“Nope.” Rivvie nudged him. “What’s wrong with your head? Does it hurt? Maybe you have a tumor.”
“Argh!” Valen threw his hands up in the air. “Sweet baby buffalos, maybe leaving is the best damned thing for me after all.”
Rivvie rolled his eyes. “Well, duh, that’s what I’ve been saying all along. And you’re supposed to be the smart one. Hmph.”
Oh no, Valen thought, his gut going tight with unease. He really didn’t like that contemplat
ive expression on Rivvie’s face. It never boded well when Rivvie looked that way.
“You know,” Rivvie began.
Valen didn’t wait around to hear the rest of it. He shifted and took off at a fast clip through the trees, staying off the familiar and worn paths.
With every beat of his heart, his mind cried out for him to stay. The land and people were his home. He didn’t want to leave—was, in fact, afraid to. The world was a big, scary place. It was unknown to him except in rumors and tales, both horrifying and intriguing, told to him and other children.
There were humans out there, somewhere, possibly. It was said that some of them had survived the End Times. Valen had never seen one for himself, nor did he know of anyone else who had. It’d been the diseases that had done most of the humans in, not the wars, although those had certainly contributed.
Humans were a violent, sickly lot. Or at least, they had been. Who knew what any might be like now?
A yip from behind him rattled his thoughts and sent them in another direction entirely. Rivvie was following him, going on like they were playing a game of chase. Why couldn’t he ever be serious? Valen would like to know that. Every single one of his siblings was more on the ridiculous side than not. He kind of envied them their good-natured, carefree attitudes.
Yes, being an alpha really did kind of suck.
* * * *
The ceremony had begun despite Valen’s desire to remain with the pack. He hadn’t said as much to his father, Varex. Dishonoring him was unthinkable. Varex had been a good father and alpha. Fear of being alone wasn’t an acceptable reason to ask to remain there. Besides, he could and would succeed in making his father, and himself, proud.
Soft chanting filled the air then ceased. The gathered pack members joined hands and moved closer to them as Valen’s father clapped him on the shoulder. The chanting ceased, and expectation hung heavy in the air. “You told me once that you didn’t want to rule.”
Valen flinched. “I respect you and can only hope to be half the alpha you are.”
Varex squeezed gently. “You were only a young boy when you said that. To see a child’s adoration for his parent is one of the greatest moments in the parent’s life. I know you love this pack, and your family. Leaving us behind to embark on your new life is frightening. Not knowing where you will find yourself tomorrow, or next week, when your life has been all about this pack is difficult to accept. I remember well how scared I was when my father died, and I had to take over the pack. I wasn’t yet twenty, and I thought I wasn’t capable of taking the alpha position. But I was, and you are ready for this. You aren’t a power-hungry man, and you’ve been raised well. That’s part of why you’ll be a good alpha. You’re wise enough to know that power can do more harm than good in far too many instances. One only has to think of the humans to realize that.”
“I thought they were almost wiped out by diseases, not power struggles.” That was what they’d been taught in the small classroom the pack had for the kids.
Varex gave him a slight squeeze before letting go of Valen. “Diseases made and used as weapons, for the most part. Had our kind not been immune, we’d be almost extinct as well. Instead, we are thriving, as much as nature allows it.”
They still had deaths, and the odd accident that killed a shifter, but Varex was right. There’d been fewer losses when it came to pups and litters as a whole over the past several decades.
“Lanaka says that the spirits bless us for continuing to keep the peace with the humans. As if we would seek to destroy such a weak species,” Varex finished with only a hint of a sneer. “Besides, they’ll almost certainly do themselves in somehow. Humans never can remain peaceful for long, and it’s been over a hundred years since the End Times. Must be a record for them.” Varex shrugged. “Then again, they may be fighting and killing each other off somewhere, just not in the vicinity of which we receive news.”
Varex tutted. “And I’ve gone off track completely. Valen, my son.” His dark brown eyes shimmered with a mix of pride and tears. “I did not believe the spirits would see fit to gift me with someone who would follow in my footsteps. I love all of my pups, I do. Still, having an alpha for a son, that is something all of us dream of. To know that you will leave here, and make a new place, build a strong pack of your own, and spread our family line out amongst this world, it brings great joy to me.”
“Thank you, Father,” Valen murmured, dipping his head down. His heart beat faster. The time of his departure was near. Valen tried to keep his fear buried deep inside. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to scent it and think him weak, even if he knew himself to be just that.
Lanaka called forth all to witness.
Goosebumps prickled Valen’s skin. He wanted to run back into the home he’d grown up in and slam the door to his room. Hide away like a child, and never come out.
He wouldn’t shame his family in such a way. Valen raised his head a little higher and paid attention.
Varex addressed the shifters.
“This ceremony we hold now, it is a celebration, not a casting out. Our great shaman, Lanaka, has watched you grow from a pup to a man. She will bless you and give you the tools you will need to survive. When you have settled, send word. Perhaps in the future, we can meet again.”
“Yes, Father.” Valen had no other words to say, and even if he’d wanted to speak different ones, he wouldn’t have. The ceremony proclaiming an alpha mature and capable was an ancient one and the words used for it very clearly stated. Valen’s part, at least. His father had more leeway, as did Lanaka at certain points.
Varex nodded once, then held out his hand. Valen did the same.
Lanaka began to chant—the power building around her was almost tangible. As she increased the speed with which she spoke, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her pupils were almost the same color as the whites of her eyes, just a smidge darker.
Even blind, she found their hands unerringly and drew a short line across their palms. She followed that with the tip of her knife, slicing their palms open. The pain was fleeting. Valen didn’t care about it. He clasped his hand to his father’s as they blended their blood in the way demanded by the old ritual.
He was binding himself to his family at the same time that he was preparing to leave them. Valen felt the hot burn and bubbling of panic in his gut. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to be on his own. It could take some alphas years to find a pack mate, much less build an entire pack. How could he stand that? To be on his own so long?
Varex released his hand. He bared his teeth, his fangs long and deadly, then stepped back.
Valen barely kept from shivering. There was a hard cast to his father’s features. It didn’t matter. Life was as it had to be. He knew that. It still hurt.
Lanaka stepped in front of Valen and unclenched his cut hand. She ran her finger through his blood then smeared a stripe of it over each cheek. Her chanting increased in speed and volume as she wet her finger with his blood again. She drew a symbol over his alpha mark, then with a suddenness he wasn’t prepared for, she pushed him away.
Valen stumbled, trying to keep his balance. Lanaka threw a leather bag at his feet. Before he could reach for it, she tossed something else at him. Valen caught it reflexively. The second he closed his hand around it, a warm, electric jolt shot through him, streaking up from his palm and fingers to his forearm, then right on up to his shoulder. It zoomed through his chest and up to his head, then all the way down to his toes.
“Talismans,” she said, her eyes rolling back into their normal position. “Do not remove it once you have put it on.”
Valen gave her a nod, unable to speak as he was just then. He slid the leather strap around his neck, the small pouch almost too hot where it rested against his chest. “Thank you, Lanaka. I hope to find a shaman as wise as you.”
Lanaka cackled at that. “You will not. There is only one of me.”
His father growled loudly and Valen knew his time was up. He snatched
the bag off the ground then turned his back on the only family and home he’d ever had—and he ran.
* * * *
Valen didn’t stop running until he was clear of his former pack lands. That warning growl hadn’t been for show. Had he not left quick enough, he’d have been forced to fight his own father. There was no way he could win such a battle. Valen was younger, but in shifter years, his father was still in the prime of his life, and he had a lot of experience in fighting off would-be alpha challengers. Valen did not.
While he hated to leave, he’d have hated to die even more. And he’d never cast that kind of shame onto his father. He did what all alpha sons were supposed to do, and left when the time had come for him to do so.
It took him almost the whole day to get to safe ground. There wasn’t another pack close by, so he was safe for the night if he chose to stop. With the sun beginning to set, he considered it. The moon was bright enough that he would have no trouble seeing, and he decided to keep moving. As homesick as he was, it’d be in his best interest to get farther away.
Valen had an excellent sense of direction, as befitted a wolf, and he could finally take a moment to shift into his animal form. There’d been no chance of taking a risk like that when he’d still been on his father’s lands.
He set the leather knapsack down and stretched as tall as he could. His spine cracked and he moaned, tired and heartsick all the way down to his bones. Valen let the shift come over him, the pain of morphing still bright and sharp, yet bearable.
Once transformed, he nosed at the strap of the leather bag. It was easy enough to slide it on, though it would be unwieldy as he ran. Regardless, he could deal with it. At least it wouldn’t be dragging the ground between his front legs.
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