The Fifth Moon's Wife (The Fifth Moon Tales Book 2)

by Monica La Porta

  Valentine didn’t recognize the portion of the desert he had glimpsed before the crawler descended lower, leaving the darkening sky behind as it burrowed deeper inside Lupine bowels once again.

  “Open your mouth.” The man sitting by his side, the same who had ordered Valentine around earlier, pushed another bottle at Valentine’s mouth.

  This time, Valentine immediately played along but didn’t swallow. Instead, as soon as the driver hit yet another boulder, sending the entire cabin flying to the right, Valentine turned his head away from the crew and spat the bitter beverage.

  The driver brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt. His handler grabbed Valentine by his elbow and jerked him outside. The air was humid and cold. Winged creatures squeaked overhead.

  As far as Valentine could see, there was nothing in that cavern besides critters and mold.

  Without letting go of his hold on Valentine, the man stomped his boot three times. When the cloud of dust he had created settled, a few meters from them a rectangular hatch opened from the ground, revealing a narrow passage.

  Three men stepped inside, then Valentine was pushed down and fell several flights of stairs. He could have easily landed on his feet, but let them manhandle him.

  They walked through a corridor crudely excavated from the rock wall for several minutes, then they stopped before a low metal door.

  Three short raps and the solid panel swung open. Valentine was pushed through the entrance and banged his head against the frame. As soon as the group crossed the gate, loud cheers and pats on the shoulders welcomed Valentine’s escort inside a storage room.

  “Come, they’re expecting you upstairs.” One of the men who had greeted them pointed his chin toward the ceiling.

  Valentine climbed two sets of stairs, walking through a narrow chamber with low ceilings. All the while, the men paraded him before numerous bystanders. The place was a subterranean fortress with a small army of people manning it.

  The rooms became smaller, the ceilings lower, and the walls closer to each other, triggering Valentine’s latent claustrophobia. He lived at the manor because he hated confined spaces.

  The last time he had suffered an attack was on Sidera Prime. He and Gabriel had borrowed a relic from the armory and Marcellus found them. As punishment, Valentine was confined inside a closet for a week. Only Gabriel talking to him from the other side of the door had saved Valentine from descending into madness.

  The onset of panic closed Valentine’s throat, but he thought of Mirella and pushed the dark thoughts away.

  At last, they entered a spacious room with high ceilings and bright illumination. Among many, the scent of Mirella immediately reached Valentine, enveloping him in its sweetness. He tilted his head slightly in her direction, eyeing from under the blindfold, but the angle wasn’t right and he couldn’t see her.

  The cheering that had accompanied Valentine throughout his ascension to the top floor dimmed to a buzz. He recognized at least two other scents. One was very familiar. Ronda. He wasn’t surprised in the least to find the treacherous courtesan there, marked by another man’s smell.

  The scent of Ronda’s new protector eluded him at first. Then he remembered when and where he had sensed it and inwardly groaned. Avener Rado.

  “Master Lobo, I’m glad you decided to pay the ransom,” a man said. It wasn’t Rado.

  So the merchant wanted to maintain his anonymity. Good. Valentine would play along.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  More awake than ever, Mirella’s head throbbed from the wealth of information she had just gathered, and she slowed her breath to calm herself.

  From outside the chamber, loud voices chanted victory songs.

  After the violence displayed a moment earlier, Rado’s rant stopped when the cheering started.

  Ronda left Mirella’s side and engaged her master in a hushed conversation. Mirella strained her ears, but the commotion grew progressively louder, impeding her from hearing what they were saying.

  Then it happened.

  Mirella’s heart skipped a beat the moment Valentine entered the room.

  She couldn’t see him, but felt his presence with her other senses. She smelled him, and her whole body responded to his nearness.

  A firm hand descended upon Mirella’s mouth as she opened it to call Valentine. Ronda had come back and was making sure Mirella couldn’t utter a word. She expected her husband to acknowledge her though, and was surprised when he didn’t say her name. For a moment, she worried she had gone insane and summoned him in her mind only.

  “Master Lobo, I’m glad you decided to pay the ransom,” one of Rado’s cronies said.

  Relief swept over Mirella. She was still confused as why Valentine had not said anything to her, but trusted he had his reasons.

  “Where’s my bride?” Valentine asked, confusing her. His voice was slurred and it lacked the arrogant tone that distinguished her husband.

  “The Blessed Bride is fine—” the crony answered.

  “Bring her to me at once,” Valentine demanded, even though the words were barely understandable.

  Mirella’s head was filled with questions. Had Ronda hidden her behind a screen? Wouldn’t Valentine sense her anyway? Maybe his faculties were impaired. Why? Had he been drugged?

  The word “drugged” triggered Mirella’s mind to make a connection she wouldn’t have done otherwise. She remembered who Rado was. The man was a merchant, and she had seen him talking to Dragon the night of the ball, when she and the Solarian had been drugged. Of course, now that her memories were coming back, she wasn’t surprised also to remember Ronda paying particular attention to Rado.

  And where was Rado? Had he left the place? Why?

  “All in due time,” the crony said, interrupting Mirella’s thoughts.

  She wanted to shout that it was all for nothing. They had no intention to release her. Her inner turmoil made her sick, and nausea hit her. She swayed in her seat, overwhelmed by fear.

  “Now,” Valentine shot back. “I want to see my bride.”

  Ronda’s hand pressed harder on Mirella’s mouth, making it hard for her to breathe when the woman’s fingers rode up covering Mirella’s nose.

  A combination of queasiness and dread sped Mirella’s heartbeats to a gallop. Her head was light for the lack of oxygen. Mirella struggled against Ronda, trying to pry the woman’s hand away from her mouth.

  The courtesan easily overpowered Mirella and pushed her against the back of her chair. Mirella hit her head hard.

  A roar pierced the air.

  Ronda screamed.

  All of a sudden, Mirella could breathe again, and the blindfold was torn from her head.

  The first thing she saw when the fog covering her eyes lifted was her husband’s face. His expression was wild and the hazel in his eyes had turned red.

  “Mirella?” Valentine asked, touching her gently.

  “I’m fine,” Mirella whispered, but her voice was hoarse.

  “Move away from the Blessed Bride,” the crony said.

  With the corner of her eye, Mirella saw the gun pointed at Valentine’s head.

  Without moving his gaze from her, Valentine said, “Or what?”

  “I’ll shoot you.” The gun muzzle bobbed as if the crony’s hand was shaking.

  “It’s hard to kill me.” Valentine gave Mirella a smile.

  “I bet if I pull the trigger I’ll do you some heavy damage. And while you recover from the wound, the Blessed Bride will be defenseless—”

  A deafening howl escaped Valentine’s throat as he swirled around and seized the gun with one hand, then struck the man’s head with the other.

  Valentine grabbed Mirella’s elbow, helping her up. Dizziness overcame her as soon as she was standing, but she gathered what was left of her strength and made one last effort to remain upright and not be a hindrance.

  “Where do you keep your vehicles?” Valentine asked one of the men staring at him with a terrified expression on his fac
e.

  The man didn’t answer, but his head tilted toward the door on the left wall.

  Valentine didn’t waste time, and cradling Mirella in his arms, he strode to that exit. As they crossed the room, Mirella saw the destruction her husband had created in a matter of seconds. Beside the crony, two other men lay unconscious on the floor. A few boxes had suffered through the fury of his passage, their contents exposed amidst splintered wood.

  Ronda was awake, but she sat in a corner, rocking, her gaze trained on Valentine. A mix of hatred and fear coloring her expression.

  “Valentine—” Mirella started saying, but he had already entered a dim hallway and was sprinting into a run, heading down.

  With a steadiness that surprised Mirella, Valentine, who didn’t seem drugged or slow any longer, descended two flights of stairs keeping the same fast pace.

  The air became progressively colder and more oppressive the further down they went. The roar from an engine reached them when they cleared the landing. The sound roused Mirella from the torpor she was slipping into. She opened her eyes. Before them, there was a metal hatch with a hand wheel.

  Valentine placed her to the ground with great care, then grabbed the wheel with both hands and opened the hatch door. Several meters from them, a vehicle that looked like a tank was leaving.

  “Everything will be okay,” Valentine murmured to her, then ran after the tank.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mirella’s mouthed cries and her distress prompted Valentine to drop his act and propelled him into action. The sight of the dark circles under her eyes and her pallor was worrying. Someone had dared hit his bride and left a trail of bruises on her face. The treatment she had received enraged him, but what terrified him was how thin and frail she looked. Mirella had been drugged as well. The sickly foreign scent clung to her, clouding her bouquet with a bitter undertone.

  Amidst worrying thoughts about Mirella and their unborn son that made him nauseous, he saw the crawler speeding away.

  Valentine pumped his legs to reach it before it disappeared around the bend. The vehicle was heavy and yet it lurched ahead, gaining speed. A few meters from the crawler, he jumped, landing onto its ceiling. Panicked shouts echoed from inside.

  One of the voices belonged to Rado. Valentine wasn’t surprised. After keeping silent and out of the way the whole time, the merchant had left the room when Valentine attacked the designated speaker. Grabbing a handlebar, Valentine centered himself, then threw a punch through the ceiling. The metal didn’t break, but it bulged. He repeated the action, putting a second dent in the ceiling. The skin on his knuckles that had just healed broke again, and his next punch became slippery with his blood. When the vehicle slowed, he slid toward the front and attacked the thick windshield. A spider web crack rewarded his effort.

  Only one thought was in Valentine’s mind. He had to take possession of the crawler. He didn’t care about Rado. His only concern was to take Mirella back home, and he pummeled the glass until his fist went through.

  The crawler swerved.

  Reaching inside, Valentine grabbed the driver by his throat and squeezed until the man gurgled and his body slumped against the seat. Before the vehicle came to a full stop, Valentine jumped to the ground and tore the driver’s door open. As he yanked the driver out of the cabin, the front passenger fled of his own volition, running into one of the tunnels.

  Meanwhile, Rado scooted toward the rear door. Pushing a man in front of Valentine, the merchant reached for the door handle. The evasive maneuver wasn’t enough to deter a furious Valentine.

  “We can solve this misunderstanding,” Rado said, his eyes darting right and left to the doors.

  Before another lie could sprout from the man’s mouth, Valentine’s fist hit Rado square in his jaw and sent him reeling to the back of the crawler.

  “I was forced to—”

  Rado couldn’t finish the sentence. Valentine silenced him with a second punch. His hand rose to deliver the finishing hit when he heard Mirella cry.

  Dragging Rado behind him, Valentine ran back to the hatch.

  Ronda had pulled Mirella to her feet, and embracing her from behind, she kept a long knife at his bride’s throat. The courtesan’s eyes widened when she saw Rado. The man was unconscious and bleeding copiously from a gash on his cheek.

  Valentine jerked the merchant by a fistful of his hair. “Release her or I’ll break your protector’s neck.”

  Ronda’s hand pressed the blade against Mirella’s skin. A rivulet of blood marred the white column of her throat.

  A primal emotion possessed Valentine. His wolf roared, and he responded with a deep war cry of his own. Their mate was being threatened. Their son was in danger.

  The cavern’s wall trembled for the power of Valentine’s angry bellow.

  Rado stirred, but Valentine gave the man a vicious tug, the roar still rumbling through him.

  Stepping back in fear, Ronda loosened her hold on Mirella for a moment. Mirella took advantage of the opportunity and dropped down as she elbowed the courtesan in the stomach.

  Before Ronda could react, Valentine had let go of Rado and ran to Mirella, who was reaching for him. With a sweeping motion, he picked her up and wrapped her tight against his chest.

  At last, Mirella was safe in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mirella rejoiced at Valentine’s nearness. Like a warm blanket, his scent surrounded her, soothing the fast beats of her heart.

  “My love,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.”

  She smiled against his chest and nodded, knowing she could finally relax.

  “You are so brave. I’m so proud of you, kitten.” His words filled her with pleasure.

  The rest of the world disappeared.

  Mirella burrowed into his strong embrace as her thoughts ran wild, taking her by surprise because of their intensity. Her brush with an untimely death had left her very much alive, speeding up her heart again, but not in fear. Warmth spread through her body, and she blushed.

  He gently pushed her chin up. “I want you too,” he said, his eyes sparkling with desire. “But first I must take care of this.” He tilted his chin toward Ronda and the merchant.

  The man was still on the ground and the courtesan had joined him. Their heads close, they whispered angry words at each other. Meanwhile, three men had gathered at the hatch door, two of them armed.

  Valentine addressed the newly arrived first, “Lower your weapons and I won’t hunt you down.” His voice was low but carried loud and clear to the group. “You—” he pointed at one of the armed rebels, “—give me your gun.” He then asked Mirella, “Can you stand?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered, stepping to the side when he gently lowered her to her feet.

  She looked around, taking in the high-ceilinged cave and the tunnels opening into the large chamber. Artificial illumination cut everything in harsh blue light, creating long, sinister shadows. Where were they? Her eyes went to the hatch again. Was the whole house underground? She shivered at the thought.

  “What are you waiting for?” Valentine demanded when nobody moved.

  On shaking legs, the man he had singled out brought his weapon to Valentine, who snatched it and gave it to Mirella.

  “Keep it on them at all time,” he told her, pointing at Rado and Ronda.

  “Do what he says,” the merchant ordered his men, his words hurried.

  “No!” Ronda cried.

  The other rebel dropped his gun, sending the black piece skittering to the floor.

  “You two are coming with us,” Valentine said to the merchant and the courtesan. “Let’s go, kitten.” He possessively wound his arm around Mirella’s back and motioned for the couple to get up and walk in front of them.

  “The Leader will destroy you,” Ronda spat, refusing to move.

  “Shut your mouth, woman,” Rado hissed, rising to his feet with great effort.

  Givi
ng the merchant a disgusted stare, Ronda stood too. “You’ll let the wolf order you around?” Her voice grew louder as she glared at Valentine.

  Standing by her husband, her free hand clutching his jacket, Mirella felt the rumble form in Valentine’s chest before he growled at the courtesan.

  The couple stepped back, cowering before Valentine as he towered over them.

  He didn’t need to repeat his order. Ronda and the merchant meekly headed toward the tank-like vehicle several meters ahead without further resistance.

  “What’s this?” Mirella couldn’t help but ask when they reached the tracked vehicle.

  “A crawler. It’s a terrain truck. I hadn’t seen one in years,” Valentine answered, waiting for the couple to enter the cabin. He then yanked the safety belts away and secured their hands with them, uniting their wrists together. “You’re lucky I destroyed the electric shackles and the collar—” he commented under his breath.

  Mirella had noticed the angry, red bruises around Valentine’s wrists and his throat, and she paled at his words. “They used electric restraints on you?”

  “I let them.” Valentine snorted. “Manacles and weak sedatives for a werewolf? Idiots.”

  The welts on his exposed skin were raw and bled in places, and Mirella’s heart ached that her husband had endured such torture. She would take care of him as soon as they were at the manor.

  Rado swore, and Ronda said, “I told you—”

  “Shut up!” the merchant shouted.

  Helped by Valentine, Mirella sat in the passenger seat, then turned sideways to aim her gun at the back of the vehicle.

  She had never held a gun before, and it felt heavy in her hand. It wasn’t just the weight of the metal bothering her, but the power an object deceivingly harmless gave the person who carried it. A light pressure on the trigger and a bullet would be ejected from the metal chamber. In a way, it was like carrying death in one’s hand.

  Looking at Mirella, Ronda’s mouth curved in one of her malicious smiles.

  “Don’t think I won’t use it,” Mirella said, staring at the courtesan and erasing the odious grin from her face at once.