by Karin Tabke
Finally, as dawn’s fingers cast a gray shadow on the new day, she fell into a fitful slumber.
“Falon!” Talia’s worried voice woke her from a deep sleep. “Layla has gone!”
Falon’s eyes popped open to find her mother’s bed empty. “Where did she go?”
Talia shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Falon stood and sniffed the air. Her mother’s scent was still fresh. “I must find her.”
She moved past Talia, who caught her hand. The petite healer’s gaze was sincere but at the same time, Falon felt her compassion. “Falon, for twenty-four years she has stayed away. She returned to save her child. That she left without saying good-bye means she does not want to be found.”
“But I need her!” Falon cried, moving past Talia. She needed answers. She would track Layla down to get them, too. Falon hurried from the room and grabbed an empty satchel from the kitchen, then ran to the back of the compound. As she opened the back doors, Angor’s deep red eyes met hers. He growled a welcome. She rubbed the three-hundred-pound mutant wolf’s head.
“Come, my friend. We have work to do.” Quickly Falon undressed and stuffed her clothes and moccasins into the small bag, then shifted. She snatched the bag up in her jaws and turned toward her mother’s scent. With Angor at her back, they took off like lightning in an electrical storm.
LUCIEN STOOD AT the open doors at the front of the warehouse and watched Falon and Angor leap over the high fence and disappear into the morning mist. Every instinct told him to go after her and beg for forgiveness. But he hesitated. He wasn’t there yet.
Lucien snarled. Last night he had gone to Layla’s room with the intention of telling Falon the truth about Mara, of setting her free, but when faced with the cost of doing so, he could not bring himself to do it. He could not bear the thought of losing her. But what he’d done was worse. He’d questioned her loyalty, her love, and her integrity. He had pushed her away anyway. He scoffed at his pathetic attempt to be the one to walk away. If he walked away, then it could not be said she left him for Rafe. If he walked away, his secret would die with him. If he walked away, his life would not be in jeopardy for what he had done.
It didn’t matter how he spun it in his mind. He was a fool on every level. A weak, dishonorable fool. He was not worthy of a woman like Falon. Maybe he always knew it, and because his beast knew the truth, he found a way to push her away without telling the truth.
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He strode to the gates and peered out at the human world. His gut, his heart, his soul cried out for Falon. But his damn pride held him in lockdown. Falon had told him once it would eat him up and kill him. Right now death seemed the better bargain. Because he did not want to live if Falon was not standing beside him.
He exhaled a long breath. He despised his weakness. He was not fit to lead even a fly into battle.
Raising his head, he stared at the fading half-moon still lingering in the morning sky. In less than six weeks, the fight for their lives would commence. Lucien threw his head back and howled. It was time he kicked the sleeping dogs awake.
FALON FOUND HERSELF standing at the edge of the deserted Amorak camp. Clinging scents still swirled about the place. The Amorak had begun their journey north to the battleground of the first Blood Moon rising. It would be where the final battle would be fought. She shifted to human and pulled her clothes out of the satchel and dressed. Then she followed her mother’s scent to a small cabin at the end of the dirt road.
Cautiously, she pushed open the door and caught her breath. Her mother sat on a threadbare mattress, wrapped in an Indian blanket, her deep brown eyes peering intently at Falon. She smiled a ghost of a smile and patted the space beside her. “Come, daughter, and sit with me awhile.”
Falon left Angor to guard the door and slowly sat down beside the mysterious woman who had given birth to her. “Why did you leave without saying good-bye?” Falon softly asked.
“Because I wanted you to follow me.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
Layla smiled serenely. “I needed to know you would come of your own volition. I also needed you outside of Mondragon and Vulkasin.”
Though years and questions separated them, Falon felt an affinity for the woman who was her mother. Her blood flowed warm and vibrant in her veins. Layla had given her life not once but twice. And because she felt such a deep bond and trust, Falon let what was prominently on her mind gush out.
“Mama, I don’t know what to do! I love them both! But even though I’ve chosen to stay with Lucien because I truly want to, he’s driving me crazy with his jealousy because I will never stop loving Rafe.” She dropped her head into her open hands and groaned. “I feel like a soap opera diva, torn between two lovers.” She lifted her head and looked to her mother for council. “My heart is a shredded, tattered mess that doesn’t know what to do for Lucien.”
“Lucien must find his own way.”
Falon threw her hands up in frustration. “But what if he doesn’t? I love him.”
“I understand. But in the end, buniq, all three of you must follow your hearts.”
“How can we? It’s an impossible situation. I love two men! I can have only one even though they both love me. One lives and dies by his honor and is promised to another. He gave his word he would not interfere in exchange for my life.” She swiped her hand across her face in the same fashion Lucien did when he was frustrated. “The other’s pride will not allow him to see he spites his face by cutting off his nose.”
Layla’s smile widened. Oddly, Falon found great comfort in it. “Rafael and Lucien have always battled for supremacy,” Layla began. “They battled the day they were born. Rafael’s head emerged with Lucien’s arm wrapped around his throat as if trying to pull him back so that he could be first.”
Falon smiled despite the gravity of the topic. “It’s still that way.”
“The brothers share a deep love, Falon. It was torn apart by a treacherous woman, it can only be repaired by one with a true heart for them both.” Layla looked at Falon with deep affection. She touched her cheek. “By a woman who would die for them both.”
Falon swallowed hard. “I love them both. I would die for them both.”
“I know that, you know that, the entire world knows it. But—until the brothers can come to terms with what must be, then you, my love, will pay the price.”
Falon smiled at her mom. Layla was wise, she was beautiful, and she had missed her comforting warmth terribly. But caution held her heart at bay. “Why did you stay away so long?”
The light went out of Layla’s eyes. “I could not return. Not after—Corbet.”
“I’ve heard the terrible story of how Corbet and his brothers came in and destroyed Vulkasin. How so many died that day. But, Mama, those who survived would have understood. It was not your fault Corbet took you away from your family.”
Layla smiled a ghost of a smile. “Part of me did not want to return. Part of me still doesn’t.”
Shocked by her words, Falon asked, “Why not? I would think you would find comfort with your own kind.”
The pain on her mother’s beautiful face was tragic. She could not imagine living through the horror of that infamous day. “The memories of that day still haunt me. It was terrible what they did. I have never witnessed such cruelty. When I see or smell a Lycan that day comes back to me as vividly as the day I lived through it. I feel guilty for surviving when so many I loved did not.”
“It’s not your fault. You need to forgive yourself for surviving.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not possible.”
“Hey, you ended up with me,” Falon said, grinning, trying to lighten the grave mood.
Layla made a sound halfway between a choke and a sob. When Falon looked closer, she saw the well of tears in her mother’s eyes. She squeezed her hand.
Layla smiled through the tears. “You were my blessing, Falon. My gift.”
“Di
d you love my father?”
Her smile waned. “Very much.”
“Tell me about him. Is he still alive?”
“It seems like a lifetime ago when last I saw him. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive.” Her eyes dimmed as she turned to Falon. “He was a troubled man, much like Lucien. His demons were not of his own making, but despite them, he tried to love me as he wanted to love me. But in the end, he could not let go of his past.”
“Did he love me?”
Layla smoothed Falon’s hair from her cheeks. “He loved you with all his heart. But he knew the darkness in him would harm you. To protect us both, he walked out of our lives.”
Falon grasped her mother’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “Did—did Thomas Corbet hurt you?”
Layla squeezed her hand and pushed it away. “I can’t discuss him.”
Falon felt her mother’s pain as if she was the one who had been struck by it. “Did my father know about Corbet?”
Layla’s hands trembled. “Please, Falon, I can’t.”
Falon tamped down her frustration. She wanted to know everything about her father. If he was alive, she wanted to find him. Meet him, understand that part of herself that came from him. And she wanted to kill Corbet for all the imagined vileness she was sure he inflicted on her mother. But she would not push Layla. Not today. “If you ever want to talk about the Slayer, I will listen and make no judgments.”
“You’re a good daughter.”
For a long time, Falon sat quietly, trying to find a tactful way to ask her mother how they had become separated.
As if reading her thoughts, Layla explained, “Because of the Slayers, Falon, I had to hide you. I was afraid they would find you and harm you.”
“But Corbet is my last name.”
“I hid you in plain sight. When they searched for you, I knew they wouldn’t give the name Corbet a second thought. It worked.”
Falon’s temples began a slow dull throb. She closed her eyes, trying to steer the headache away, but every time she concentrated on her childhood memories, the pounding started up. “I remember the ring. The Eye of Fenrir on a man’s hand. Was it Thomas Corbet’s hand?” She opened her eyes to see Layla nod.
“I was there the day he resurrected it. It was why he took me from Vulkasin. Without my blood as sacrifice the ring would not reveal itself.”
“My God! Did he try to kill you?”
“Nothing so graphic or painful. But the entire episode was terrifying. Fenrir revealed himself to us before Thomas forced him back into the ring. He was ferocious and hideous to look upon.”
“How did he force Fenrir back?”
“The bearer of the ring holds all the power over the wolf. Rafael has no comprehension of the true power he holds on his hand. Sharia will reveal the powers once the packs are gathered.”
“Rafe has made sure it never leaves his body as wolf or human. But it has been messing with his head, too. I think the wolf is restless.”
“Rafe must understand that despite what Fenrir wants, Rafe has the final word. He cannot be forced to do anything he does not naturally want to do, and his word is final over Fenrir’s.”
Falon let out a long, exhausted breath. Her temples pounded. But she would have her answers. “The night I met Rafael, a man named Viktor Salene approached me.” Falon watched her mother’s face for any clue that she knew the man. The flare of her nostrils was her only tell. “Did you know him?”
“Yes,” Layla whispered.
“He knew my name. Told me he was taking me to my people. Slayer people.”
“Viktor Salene was a crazy Corbet wannabe.”
“What’s so great about the Corbets? They are bloodthirsty murderers!”
“That fact is inarguable. But amongst Slayers, the eldest son of the eldest son of Peter Corbet are born with innate powers no other Slayer possesses. They are revered among all Slayers.”
“How do you know this?”
“I was a captive of one of those eldest sons. I heard and saw more about the life of a Slayer than any Lycan before me.”
“Why did Salene insist I was a Slayer?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he sensed your innate power, not realizing you were Lycan.”
“How did he get the ring from Corbet?”
Layla shook her head. “My gut tells me he slew Thomas for it. He would never have handed it over of his own free will.”
“Rafe killed Salene and took the ring.”
“The ring is where it should be. For now anyway.”
Falon’s eyes narrowed. A hunch niggled at her. “Did you—have affection for Corbet?”
Falon hissed in a breath when she caught the softening in her mother’s eyes before she could hide it with indifference. “How could you?” she demanded, horrified by the thought. “After what he did? Is that why you refuse to talk about him? Is that the real reason you could not face your pack?”
Layla’s eyes filled with tears. “You were not there, Falon. You did not see the side of him I saw.”
Falon fought hard to keep her emotions under control. No, she had not walked a mile in her mother’s shoes, but even so, she could not fathom how any Lycan could feel compassion for such a heinous individual. Falon despised Thomas Corbet on principal alone for what he had done to Rafe and Lucien. So, too, should Layla.
“He’s a murderer.”
“What are Rafe and Lucien?”
Falon’s jaw dropped. Never would she expect her mother or any Lycan to defend a Slayer against a Lycan. “How can you ask such a thing when you were there! When you witnessed firsthand their cruelty? What would you expect any Lycan to do to the people who destroyed their family? Hug them and hang out? The Slayers started this fight centuries ago. As you know Lycans have only one natural enemy: Slayers. Lycans fight for survival not because of hatred or because some douche-bag king didn’t like wolves but because they have been singularly persecuted for almost a thousand years!”
Falon shook she was so angry. But more than that, disappointed that her mother would sympathize with their mortal enemy.
“Falon, I have slain my share of Slayers. If any one of them walked into this cabin, I would tear their heart out. What I am saying is, there are two sides to every man. And not all men who are born into hatred embrace it.”
“Are you saying Thomas Corbet didn’t get off killing Lycan?”
“No, I’m just saying perhaps if he had a choice he would not have.”
“We all have choices, Mother.” Falon sat back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. This was not how she wanted to get to know her mother. It was not what she expected. But now that the cards were on the table she would have all her answers. But Layla blindsided her with a question.
“Did you ever expect to soften toward Lucien?”
Falon hissed in a deep breath. “He is not a Slayer!”
“But he wanted to kill Rafe, the man you loved, and he would have slain you had the council’s verdict upheld the Blood Law to the letter.”
“No, he would not have!”
“You are a hypocrite, Falon. You despised Lucien. You knew if you were to mark him it would destroy Rafael. Yet you did it anyway with no regard to Rafe’s feelings.”
“I did not despise Lucien! I despised what he did.” And she did care about Rafa’s feelings. Had she not marked Lucien neither of them could move on. And to survive they had no choice but to do so.
“As I despised what Thomas did.”
“Did my father know of your affection for that horrible man? Is that what really drove him away?”
Layla’s lips thinned into a grim line. “As you, I was torn between two men, Falon, and because I was a coward, I have neither. Do not make the mistake I made. Find a way to love them both.”
“They will not allow me to openly love them both.”
Layla smoothed Falon’s furrowed brows with cool, soothing fingertips. “You have just not found a way to convince them yet.”
Fal
on’s brain throbbed inside of her skull. She wanted to shift and run. Run away from her questions, the answers she did not want to hear, and the turmoil in her heart and soul. But she didn’t. She stood and dug her heels in deeper.
“Why did you abandon me?”
Layla’s cheeks darkened but she looked Falon in the eyes. “I am sorry for that, Falon. But it was the only way to keep the Slayers off your scent. You had to be away from me. Completely. I chose to give you up so that you would survive.”
“I was miserable. All I had was my name, and after I ran away at fourteen from my foster home, I changed even that.”
“I regret your misery, Falon. There was never a minute of any hour that I did not think of you. But in my heart, I know what I did was right. That you are here with me today, alive, is proof.”
Hot tears stung Falon’s eyes. In her heart, she wanted to justify the decision her mother made, but in her soul, Falon knew she would never give up her child. She would fight to the death to protect her. She would have swallowed her pride and her fear and returned to her people for love and protection.
Falon had one more question and though she dreaded the answer, she knew she must ask it. “I see spirits. Lucien called them ghost walkers. He said you would explain.”
Layla hissed in a sharp breath. Her deep brown eyes widened with wonder and fear.
The hair on Falon’s arms crawled like caterpillars across her skin.
“You’re going to drop another bomb on me, aren’t you?” she asked, not wanting the answer.
“You have your father’s gift of the sight, Falon.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you possess the power to restore life.”
Sixteen
“THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!”
Layla shook her head and scooted closer to Falon. “Ghost walkers are restless spirits, Falon. Lycan spirits that have fallen by a Corbet sword. Their life forces were so strong when they were alive that although their bodies dissolved upon their deaths, their energy remained. All they need is a conduit to return to their earthly forms.”
