Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1)

by Unknown

  The man I've come to know doesn't do that. But now, he's claiming he's a reformed man.

  We drive into my hometown and then further down the main road, the same road on which he once paraded me for all to see. Passing the private homes of the mated pairs and the few buildings serving community purposes, I can't help but think... I've finally hit rock bottom. I am selling myself to him. Like a prostitute.

  A chance. This is all he's asking from me, yet that chance is stirring up shame and disgust in me... gnawing at me, causing a restless itch in my chest. His looming presence next to me has been burning me for days, the internal battle not to lean closer to him, not to give into the urge to reach out to him, not to inch closer to him only feeding the throbbing ache.

  I am betraying myself. I am feeling something I should have never felt, something I've thought I will never feel towards my tormentor, the person who killed my stepdad and probably half of my original pack.

  Giving a chance to a monster.

  I remember that night like it was yesterday. The war howls signaling we were being attacked minutes before they had descended upon us like hounds come from the very pits of hell, a sight to behold and a horror to flee.

  Brave men battling against the unforeseen threat all across my hometown, good men, they fought and died, battle cries ending in eerie quiet and pleas for mercy being stifled down by savoring canines. No mercy was delivered that night. ShadowFang brought silence and shame to people who didn't even know their name to curse it before their last breath was taken away from them.

  Only a few were spared. Children and juveniles mostly. Least, we'll live to see another day, I've thought back then, not knowing what fate had in store for me.

  Rivers of blood flowed through these same streets we are passing now. The carcass of bodies, disfigured beyond recognition, was cleaned for days and days to come. Red trails were washed off. Houses were repaired, painted or destroyed as they saw fit. We were brought to our knees, converted into a new religion, one that worshiped him and him alone and served no greater purpose but to serve him.

  We watched the pyre of our past being burned to ashes as we were forced to embrace the present, the future.

  Should I have said the words that day? Should I have submitted and accepted defeat like the others?

  Dragging my tired limbs inside, every inch further is waking me up into the nightmare. Padding onto the hardwood floor, following Alpha as he leads the way, I see fire. The ghosts of the past are chasing me, shadowy forms flickering behind my retinas, eyes that watch yet do not see what is in front of them.

  My voice that's just a whisper no one ever hears. I am screaming. I am sobbing. Like a woman being taken to the gallows... no one listens... no one cares.

  Every corner of this house is tainted with my blood. Every breath is sprayed with the scent of my pain.

  Now, it hurts much more.

  I go further, retracing the old path, quiet sobs raking everything that's inside, my stony facade holds.

  Jason is the one to show Jaz and Hunter their cottage while Beta Hayden is assigned to give the grand tour to my other friends. They are leaving me now. Not alone but, of course, with Alpha.

  Being my mate, it's only natural he is the one to lead me to my imprisonment. After answering my earlier question and providing his lieutenants the necessary instructions, he's now unusually quiet. Not just him, though. The house is quiet. The silence deafening and unnerving.

  My former pack mates are watching us. Every step of the way their curious eyes are tracking our movements or perhaps just mine. As I climb up the stairs, walking close behind Alpha, I know this is not what they expect me to be doing. Are they waiting for me to crack? Are they expecting a scene?

  Finally, we make our way upstairs. The second floor is traversed by a long, vast gallery, too large to be called anything but; rows of rooms on each side, ending with the master's bedroom suite.

  The last time I've been either here or in my isolated sanctuary has been the day I ran off. He seems to have renovated since then. In place of the previous black and white pattern, the suite's been painted emerald green, the bed clothing switched for a dark violet canopy that makes the room somehow more... livable.

  The bedside table on the right side is barren of his possessions, the walk-in closet has been cleared up of his female companions' belongings, now half of it empty of clothing. Like he has expected me to move in. Like he's actually made space for me to fit in.

  I watch him drop my cases on the floor, not wasting a second before opening them and starting to rummage through my private stuff. I don't need to look in a mirror to know I have a nasty grimace on my face, my lips pressed into a thin, displeased by the sight, line.

  "What the hell do you think you are doing?" Never meaning to shout when I opted for words to express my irritation with him, it comes louder than intended.

  He jerks his head up, slowly turning to look back at me as I place my hands on my hips and glare at him.

  "I'm helping you move in," he informs me, arching a brow, daring me to object to what he just said.

  I don't say anything. I know this is part of the deal. Living with him as in 'living with him in the same room' has been one of his conditions and I've agreed. Smirking at me, probably reading the thoughts right off my face, he turns back to his task.

  Strolling right next to where he's crouching, I stop in my tracks when I see him scooping up half of my underwear draw, nostrils flaring as he takes in my lingering scent without actually sniffing the clothes that would cover my most private parts... for goodness sake!

  "No!" I cry out and before I even know what I'm doing I find myself flying, or, well, crashing at him.

  In my desperate attempt to salvage my dignity from his prying hands, and eyes, I actually throw myself at him, my body landing sprawled across his.

  I find his arms snaking around me, hugging me to him, never missing on an opportunity just like no Alpha will.

  Sneaky, that's what I've heard they are at their best, and he clearly isn't different.

  I hear him inhale, deeply, his face snuggling into the crook of my neck, his lips touching flesh that shivers under his attention. He's shaking, his body as responsive to the contact as mine seems to be. Shameless.

  Another shiver erupts from my flesh when I find his tongue bruising a trail on my skin, burning it. The sparks are there. Millions of small tingles that warm up parts of me I am not ready to acknowledge in his presence.

  This isn't right. This isn't something we should be allowed to do.

  Yet, I want to. I need to. I need... him.

  I can't betray myself and fall into this madness.

  "Stop. Please, stop," Choking out, my voice is as shaken as my body is.

  Stilling, his lips leave my skin... cold, missing the touch.

  When he opens his eyes and looks at me, they are a green jungle. Wild, untamed. Hurt... like, my words have wounded him.

  Gently, he propels me off himself. "I'm sorry." Then walks away.

  (29) Small Acts Of Betrayal

  |Scarlet's POV|

  The creak of the door leaves me small and scared in that house of torture. I am back, once again alone to face my own demons. The door behind me closes with a click, one that sounds like finality, before I manage to pull myself together and descend down the stairs into my own private purgatory.

  I won't be hiding in his room. I will face them. Regardless. Or perhaps exactly because they are who they are to me.

  This time, I won't run.

  The pack is clustered around the dining table, my friends, even Jaz and Hunter who are supposed to live outside of the packhouse, assembled amongst my former pack mates, chatting with them jovially like old friends brought together.

  Taking a minute to inspect the scene, bizarre as it is to see my family accepting of that pack of walking and talking disease, it is much more to me. Festering and acrid like a back stab wound you become aware of only once it starts to ooze out. The cage
d inside me beast is growling in pain as I watch my family be lured in the pretense like spellbound children. Don't they see it, don't they understand it's all a show?

  I let out a small sigh, knowing I can do nothing about it but wishing I could with all that's vile and bitter inside me. I know I shouldn't do that. I can't cause a scene, I can't turn my family against those people who are now our only protection, however, I can't deny the internal itch to do just that. No matter that this is beneath me or that I've made a promise.

  A bargain with the devil I must honor.

  Glancing back, it was either the sound or the bond that alarmed him of my presence. Fixing me with these soulful green pools of his, his sadness is still there, the hurt still staring back at me, it's just him who doesn't allow it to show for all there are to see.

  Their pain caged inside just like their beasts are, in something that's proven to be one highly combustive concoction over the centuries, Alphas rarely let themselves be seen as weak but, perhaps, in some kind of grand gesture on his part, I'm allowed to glimpse it now. Just for a heartbeat before he directs a nod my way, his hand flicking in beckoning and then pointing to the empty place next to him.

  With intent to place me where his Luna should sit, his gaze is offering me a silent dare to challenge him, the ruler back on his throne after bending the knee.

  There's just one seat beside his Queen's that I can take.

  "She's not our Luna yet. This isn't a place she can take, Alpha Regan." She is unworthy, she never says the last out loud, but it's there - hanging in the air like a never spoken curse. Eyes reflecting her hate for me, Sasha's waiting for me to decide on a course of action. Accept her judgment or submit to my shame of being defeated by him. At last.

  Everything is quiet - from the clatter of dishes being prepared by the motherly women to whom the task has been transferred to the hushed conversations on the table. All eyes are on me, waiting, anticipating my rise.

  I focus my attention on my former friend. Her platinum blond hair has grown longer for those couple of months I've spent away from the house and is now hugging the oval of her pretty face and reaching her shoulders. She has styled it, making it wild, curly and voluminous like a mane. Similar to my own.

  Dark brown eyeliner is coiled around her hazel eyes, making them look bigger, mysterious. To me, they hold no such mystery. Nor does the lopsided smirk on her voluptuous lips. Before ShadowFang's attack, we have been best friends, as close as sisters, sharing dreams and aspirations. But after, she has made sure to show me her true face in each and every possible way.

  That same face now has been caked with make-up, her skin missing that healthy tan glow and instead pale, almost as pale as mine is.

  "What did you just say?" I grit out, tasting it on my tongue, feeling it beading over my skin, the driblets vaporizing into heat. Anger. "And FYI, you should try harder to accomplish the right look."

  "I wasn't talking to you," she snaps venomously, turning her notice towards the one she deems worthy of it. "Alpha?"

  Pretending I'm not even there, it's that simple but tremendous act that turns the tables. Rage riles up and takes over.

  Suddenly staring at her, my face is inches away from hers, hand gripping her bare, inviting neck... claws breaking the skin.

  A few drops of blood streaming down under sharp fingertips, the scent of her fear is wafting to my nostrils mixed with the aroma of her blood, the fragrance teasing on my senses and testing my self-control.

  She is struggling under the weight of my hold. Fists hitting me as she gives out angry growls my way, breath fanning over the skin. Her scent, the one I've been associating with friendship and comfort, is now causing me to roil with repugnance.

  "Alexandra," I breathe out, my voice husky and low, the temptation in it audible. "You need to understand. I am no longer the weak girl I was six months ago. I can kill you with a snap of my fingers. I can drink you dry. I can tear your flesh in pieces and consume it... feed off a hunger you know nothing about... and... I will enjoy every second of it," I hiss, flashing her a grin, showing her what she needs to see to understand.

  My canines have descended. They are aching just like the need to taste and consume her is.

  I watch her, my eyes flickering to that trail of red, streaming off wounds I am inflicting, tempting me, calling on me... drawing me to itself like a treat I am unable to refuse, a need I am unable to deny.

  I should've known better for now I am enthralled. I cannot stop myself.

  Arms pulling on me, I can hear shouting.

  "What's happening to her?" Alpha's voice rising to a crescendo, even if I understand my mate's words none of it matters.

  Singing to me, it wants me to take it. Already corrupted to its unique taste, one I know only too well, I can't refuse. I need... I want this.

  "Snap out of it, Scarlet!"

  "Scarlet, Scarlet, Scarlet," repeating like an echo, the need is deafening the words. Leaning closer to her frame, she's screaming in protest, battling against my advance.

  "SCARLET!"

  I'm being pulled off my prize. The haze is dissipating, disappointment washing over me.

  A promise not fulfilled. A need not satisfied. A hunger not fed.

  "Why? Why can't you fight it like the rest of us, Scarlet?" Cole's crestfallen words reach me. As I look up towards his form, hunched over mine, I find an equally forlorn expression on his face.

  "You never taught me how."

  Expecting guilt, it's puzzlement, shock and, finally, fear that replaces his disappointment. "What the hell is wrong with your eyes?"

  I don't know if it's the question or something else but, suddenly, I become aware. Everyone is staring at me. And then, they are stepping away from me.

  Terrified.

  (30) Heartthrob Or Not

  |Scarlet's POV|

  At first glance, there is nothing strikingly unique about that girl. Her eyes are a dull gray, the same color the sky takes on a rainy day. The sunshine is hiding under the layer of dark gray, cocooned in darkness that makes you despair. They are bleak just like that sky.

  Her hair consists of a waterfall of curls, tangled together in a heavy mess that will never be tamed, will never look as fancy or beautiful as other girls' hair. It falls around her face, dark brown only to make her already pale face look even more ghostly than it is. Her skin is almost translucent, the small veins underneath visible if you stand close enough to her.

  Her body is small, much resembling a child's figure with just a few, barely there curves to suggest she's anything but a child. Fragile, innocent, not holding the strong, healthy appeal that most pack females do.

  Childbirth will be difficult for her with her small frame. Perhaps, she'll never carry up to term because of how weak she is. She will struggle with it. She will die from it.

  As hard as it is for the she-wolf to conceive and bring to the world more of our kind, it's harder when it comes to giving birth. Most females with a body, as unfit for the task as mine is, never do. They just don't make it.

  In a world where everything is determined by straight, frail looking female, such as I, are considered a burden. They have no worth since they can't fulfill their purpose in life and provide the future they are supposed to bring in.

  Males fight, protect and provide. Females bring up the future generations and if they can't they are simply forsaken.

  The girl staring back at me has always known that being a mate, becoming a mother someday was not in her future. She has been trained, has accepted her fate once. It was her only way to find purpose in her life since there couldn't be another.

  She dealt with the cards fate threw at her and learned how to live without the hope of a future to grow inside her but, now, looking at the monster hiding underneath all that childish appearance, sleeping, waiting, biding her time, staring back at her from inside the mirror...

  She's not the girl I thought she was. She's different. A special breed of monster. Truly an aberration.

>   Eyes that are bright red, like drops of blood surrounded by white, skin that's eerily pale, veins that pulse thicker underneath, painting a map on her face, who is that monster?

  Is it me?

  Pulling my wild curls into a ponytail, I lean closer to the mirror in Alpha's bathroom. I can see them slowly changing back to their normal gray, the skin smoothing over.

  "Will you come out or are you planning to hide in the bathroom all night, Scarlet?" Alpha shouts from behind the locked door, persistently knocking as he urges me out.

  He's been on and off with the demanding attitude for a while now. Wanting to talk. Talk about what, though? There's nothing I wish to discuss with him. He may be my mate, my protector now, whatever, but he's certainly not going to understand. He's the one who's told me I am an abhorrence time and again, he isn't my friend.

  My friends deserted me, too freaked out to actually face me. Perhaps, later they will. Perhaps, they will talk to me and not leave me just after I've found them. They can't be like the rest of the people in my life. They can't just give up on me because I am different. It's not what family does.

  "I'll stay here," I shout back in answer, my breath fogging up the reflective surface. "Go away."

  "Please, baby girl, we need to talk about what happened. You can't just lock yourself and avoid facing it." Like he actually cares.

  Go fool someone else, Alpha. "I can and I will. Besides, there's nothing we need to discuss. You're not my keeper."

  "Scarlet!" Anger is laced in that single word. Now, I know how to deal with that.

  My fingers curling around the edges of the sink for support, I breathe in much-needed air, trying to calm my already stranded nerves and hoping to avoid another scene. Just ignore him and he'll go away.

  "Step away from the door, Scarlet. I'm getting in," he announces with a growl.

  He's not going to bust the door. He doesn't care. It's just the bond talking.

  "You hear me, Scarlet? Move away from that door."