Bound to the Moon

by Kristy Centeno

  It’s about to happen now. I can’t believe how bad the timing is. Usually I can tell with perfect accuracy when my next episode will be but I failed this time around. I’m too distracted. There’s so much going on and I’ve been ignoring my symptoms for days.

  I don’t have a day or two. My time is up.

  Chapter Four

  I hurry to the door, open it and call out to Gage. He needs to get me to my cage in the cellar before I turn. That’s the only safe place for me when I’m like this. There I’ll spend the next few days, detoxing from the ravages of the almost uncontrollable predatory instincts that take over my entire system.

  I can already feel my stomach tightening, my muscles coiling like a rattlesnake getting ready to strike. The hunger is slowly twisting my inners, momentarily taking my breath away. I fall to my knees, my entire body shaking with more effort now. Pain radiates throughout me as my already sensitive senses heighten. It’s all part of the rush, the unnatural high that takes over my body and dominates.

  The urge to go on full predatory stalking mode, free my inner beast, and allow it to hunt is practically irrepressible. Every single muscle aches, pulsating as they move and shift. I fight off the need to change from one form to another. I always fight back. I lose every time but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I can never give up or else I’ll lose what humanity remains inside me.

  The fight is incredibly painful, agonizing. It’s like trying to keep a grown elephant trapped in a dollhouse. It won’t fit and that’s exactly how I feel—like the hunger within is too powerful to keep trapped in a single body: mine.

  The hunger doesn’t have room inside my anatomy and fights to break loose, but we are one. I can’t be free of it and the hunger needs me to survive.

  “Kyran, fight it off.” Alexis’ voice sounds right next to me. I didn’t even hear him come into the room. But then, considering he can feel what goes on through me sometimes, it shouldn’t surprise to see him come to my aid. “Don’t let it win.”

  A growl escapes my half-open lips. My body shudders even more violently. The menacing force inside of me beckons for the change. It craves to become the unnatural thing that seeks out flesh. It craves that which I will not give it. I refuse to darken my soul by giving in.

  Giving in is easy. Fighting off the bloodlust, however, takes every ounce of strength I have in me.

  “Kyran, Marjorie needs to see you. Fight it off. Don’t give in. It’s easier to give in than to fight it off,” Alexis voices my exact thoughts.

  “I’m...trying,” I growl. My voice has changed from human to animal-like.

  “Bring her face to mind, Kyran. Think of her.” Alexis moves closer, stepping within arm’s reach. “Concentrate on her face. Her beautiful face.”

  I shake my head, finding incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the hunger. It’s so powerful. So overwhelming. I’m starving. Have been starving since my first shift at age eleven. The pain...I can barely bear it.

  “You’re not trying hard enough, Kyran. Stop thinking about the hunger,” Alexis voices. “Bring her to mind,” he demands more forcefully now.

  My body falls forward on my hands and knees. I can feel the bones in my back popping. I’m changing against my will. “I can’t control it.”

  “Yes. Yes, you can, Kyran. Try harder.”

  Alexis’ voice hits some nerve inside of me and I try blanking my mind, tearing away from thoughts of hunger and pain. I make an effort and bring Marjorie’s face to mind. It takes a lot more work than I ever imagine. Pain sears through my body. My stomach contracts. My abdominal cavity sinks in and I heave and heave but nothing comes out. There’s nothing in my belly.

  It’s empty.

  I’m empty.

  “Kyran.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try again. What is my favorite memory of Marjorie? I scan what little good memories I do have and quickly recall the kiss we shared after our first and only date. The look of surprise on her face when I reached over the car’s console and sealed her lips with mine was worth my full attention. I’d caught her off guard that night. And I enjoyed her reaction even more.

  I’d struggled with my curse back then too, but her presence had been enough to quell my predatory hunger, which became replaced by another form of craving . That one having a lot to do with other parts of my anatomy.

  The challenge I could see in her eyes, as if she knew what I was going through and dared me to be more than a monster had—oddly enough—helped me control impulses I’d been unable to regulate and quickly tampered my need to be something other than Kyran.

  “Kyran.”

  I use what little strength I have and fight back. The pull, as strong as it is, soon begins to dissipate as I retake charge of my body and command the hunger to subside, ordering the beast within to back off. It doesn’t give in easily. Bloodlust is a very powerful thing, but I don’t allow it to control me.

  I struggle, feeling like I’m in a losing battle. It’s beyond difficult to shake off the effects. My body shakes as if every bone and muscle is about to be sweated through the pores of my skin. It hurts so badly I think I might pass out.

  “He’s burning up. Bring some cold water,” I hear Alexis say. I’m aware of a new pair of feet padding around in my bedroom while another set retreats to the hallway, but I’m too distracted by the rapid changes of my body to pay attention to whoever is moving in and out.

  “Alexis, he’s going to hurt himself,” Josephine’s voice sounds panicked. “Maybe we shouldn’t make him do this.”

  Make me? Is this some kind of test?

  “He can do it.” Alexis’s voice doesn’t sound as confident though.

  I’m worried now. Have I gone too far?

  Something wet and warm runs down my nose. My eyes open automatically and I gaze down to the floor in time to see drops of blood trickle in between my hands. This can’t be good. I’ve never bled before.

  “Gage!” Josephine shouts. “He’s burning up.”

  My skull feels as if it’s about to split in two. I heave once more as my stomach churns and twists. I shut my eyes again and focus my attention on Marjorie’s face. I want to see her. Touch her cheek. Hold her hand. And I can’t do it like this. She can never see me like this. When I’m at my worst.

  I give it all I’ve got, pushing down my hunger, my weakness, my need to feed. Everything. I fight back harder than I ever have before, forcing the shift from human to beast to an abrupt halt. I’m always hungrier—tempted to feed when I’m in werewolf form. If I can keep it from happening now I might have another week or so before I have to go through this hell again.

  “Kyran, stop. You’re hurting yourself.” Josephine drops to her knees beside me. She reaches out to touch my forehead. “Please, stop.”

  I can hear the desperation in her voice but I can’t stop. I’m so close to winning this battle. I’m almost there. I’m nearly under control again, but it’s costing me. My head feels as if it weighs a ton. I’m running out of steam. My arms are holding me up by sheer will alone. I’m beat. Tired. Exhausted. And I’m thirsty. I’m sweating profusely and more bloods runs down my nose.

  I sense a pair of feet padding quickly toward me seconds before ice-cold water is poured on my head and back. I’m instantly drenched and the sudden change in body temperature forces my breath to hitch in my throat.

  My arms finally lose their ability to hold me up and I collapse on the floor. I’m still shaking but not from the battle inside me. I’m suddenly cold and...drained. My eyes drift closed and the last thing I hear before oblivion takes over is the sound of Alexis’s voice saying, “He did it.”

  ***

  I’m aware of the pounding in my head even before my eyes fully open. It feels like my brain is hammering away at my skull, looking for a way to escape its prison. I’m slowly regaining consciousness and can already tell I’m lying on my back in my bed.

  The last thing I remember was collapsing on the floor. Gage must have transf
erred me at some point. He’s always the one who takes care of me, watches over me, keeps me in check, making sure I’m as comfortable as possible.

  I rub the haze out of my eyes and sit up, slowly sliding myself back on the mattress until I’m resting against the headboard. I keep my eyes shut because even the luminescence of the light bulb above my head bothers me. I might be getting a migraine, though I couldn’t tell what one feels like considering I’ve never had one.

  Aside from having a headache, I feel nauseous. It’s almost as if I’ve just been on the receiving end of a wrecking ball.

  On the plus side, I’m no longer starved for blood.

  “That wasn’t so bad.”

  I open my eyes and find Alexis sitting cross-legged near the foot of my bed. He’s quietly assessing me. There’s a mixture of concern and amusement in his eyes.

  “Not so bad?” I ask with a frown. “You’re a jerk, Alexis.” His smug look irritates me further still.

  “Why am I a jerk? You were able to come off the high weren’t you?”

  I want to shake my head but I opt against it. I don’t think my brain could take that kind of pressure right now—it might accidently push itself through my skull.

  “Take your boots off my bed or I’ll cut your legs off,” I snarl. I may not be feeling the effects of hunger right now but I’m far from being okay.

  “Temper, temper.” He mocks me further by smirking.

  “I’m tempted to whack that sneer right off your face but it would be too much of an effort to move.”

  Nonetheless, he pushes himself off the bed and stands. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve spent a day beating you down.” Even draping my arm over the bridge of my nose is an effort. Every muscle in my body aches and the need to purge has me wondering whether or not I’ll make it to the bathroom on time.

  “As if you could,” Alexis retorts. “We both know I’m the stronger twin.”

  I cock my head to the side and open one eye to look at him. “I’m not in the mood for your immaturity, Alexis.”

  His hands go up in a sign of peace. “All right. All right.”

  “How long have I been out?” I ask, wincing when Alexis grabs ahold of my wrist and pulls my body forward. He reaches for a glass of water and offers it to me. I stare at the glass, wondering how he even knew—before I even became aware of the fact that I’m incredibly thirsty—that I’d need water.

  “Not long. About forty minutes or so,” he offers. “Gage swore you’d be out until tomorrow morning but I know you’re stronger than you look.”

  I take the glass of water and gulp it down in one long swig to keep my mouth busy. I’m trying my best to be sensible with him considering he did help me fight off my latest episode. Not that he’s necessarily being a big help right now.

  “I’m not feeling very well,” I admit. I gaze down at my hands. They are no longer shaking but appear paler than usual.

  “You almost killed yourself, you fool,” the sound of Marquis’s angry voice travels to my ears. “What were you thinking?”

  I look up, finding myself pinned by the look of utter disapproval on his face.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Alexis comes to my defense. “He just needs to be consistent with it.”

  “You’re no expert on this.” Though Marquis’s reply is meant for Alexis, his gaze never leaves mine. “You can’t possibly know how well or how badly fighting off the takeover will turn out to be. This was a stupid idea.” He turns to Alexis and adds, “You shouldn’t have encouraged him.”

  Alexis scowls. “I know Kyran can learn how to control it. Others know how, so why would he be the exception?”

  “Kyran is not like the others.” Marquis rushes right up to Alexis and yells, “We can’t risk losing him just because you get a brilliant idea and hope it will work.”

  Alexis’s expression transforms from one of annoyance to one of surprise. “That’s not what I was doing. I know Kyran can do it. He just needs a trigger. Something—or in this case—someone who will help make the transition easier.”

  “Alexis, your ideas are often good and in most cases welcomed, but this is different.” Marquis runs one hand down his face. “Kyran could have taken a turn for the worse. Your so-called plan could have backfired.”

  “It didn’t,” Alexis argues.

  “But—”

  “Stop talking about me as if I’m not even here,” I rush off the bed, ignoring my multiple discomforts. “What is your problem?” I glare at Marquis. “Why are you making such a big deal about this?” Marquis giving Alexis such a hard time is rare. He’s usually the first one who comes to Alexis’s defense no matter what the idiot is doing. “You have no faith in me whatsoever? Do you?”

  Marquis glares right back. “Faith is not an issue here, Kyran.”

  “But I am. Isn’t that what you mean to say?”

  “Kyran.” Josephine rushes into the room, grabs a hold of my forearm and pulls. “Let’s not get into an argument now.”

  I don’t budge. Marquis demeanor lately has me thinking his mood changes have everything to do with me and little to do with the encroaching alpha and his pack. Perhaps the past is finally catching up to me. Maybe a part of him does blame me for what happened to our parents.

  It was my fault they died.

  I brought Samantha home when I knew I shouldn’t have. I made her a victim. I broke the rules and I broke them again the day I laid eyes on Marjorie.

  “You don’t understand, Kyran.” Marquis lifts his chin, eying me squarely.

  “What don’t I understand?” I want to know what’s on his mind, but he won’t share that with me. He never bothers with sentimentalities, at least with me.

  Marquis’s expression softens. “You almost killed yourself. You managed to control the bloodlust but at what cost? You were out cold, bleeding through your nose and ears for a couple of minutes.”

  My right hand immediately moves to my ear. The tips of my fingers prodding the entrance to my ear canal. I snatch it back when I feel something warm and wet there. I gaze down and find blood on my fingers.

  “I—” I hadn’t realized just how much I pushed myself. I overdid things. That would explain the numbness to my body. The blood. The pain. It’s easier to give in than to fight. Now I understood why so many man-eaters eventually darkened their souls. Keeping the hunger at bay, trying to control the bloodlust is far worse than allowing the physical and mental transformation to take over.

  I can’t win. Eventually, the bloodlust will lead me away from the path I’ve maintained for ten years. How can I keep from straying? My first attempt at truly taking full control of my body during an episode nearly killed me.

  “I’m fine.” I turn my back to Marquis while wiggling free of Josephine’s grip. “I’ll be all right.” Nothing is okay but right now, I can’t allow my failure to consume the rest of my day. I have enough things to worry about as it is.

  “You should get some rest,” Marquis walks over to me and attempts to lay a hand on my shoulder but I pull back. I see pity in his eyes and that’s the one thing I don’t need or want right now.

  “After you collapsed we thought you wouldn’t awaken till morning,” he adds.

  “You were wrong.” I spare a glance at Josephine. She’s looking at me as if thinking I’m going to pass out once more. “I’m feeling better already. Nothing can keep me down for long.” And it’s not entirely a lie. I do feel better. The ache in my head has dulled somewhat and the nausea has nearly dissipated completely.

  “In any case, you should take some time to rest,” Marquis insists, a look of true concern etched on his face.

  “No.”

  “No?” Marquis’s heart picks up pace. He’s agitated again. Now, however, his agitation is due to my refusal to follow his commands.

  “I need to go to the hospital and see Marjorie. Visiting hours end in a couple of hours.”

  “Kyran—” Marquis starts but is interrupted by Josephine.

/>   “Let him go. It will do him good to see her.”

  “What if his symptoms return while he’s there?” While I can understand Marquis’s concerns, I’m not in the mood. Not after what happened. Not when I’m trying so hard not to think about the possibility of death or on how close I came to losing my battle against it.

  Maybe Marquis is right and I can’t fight off the bloodlust. Maybe I’m not meant to. I’ve heard a chosen few fight it and win. But because the first and only time I decide to do so I almost tore myself inside out, I’m thinking I don’t have it in me. Maybe I’m a slave to my condition and will be for the rest of my immortal life.

  Hope might not be my best ally.

  “I said I’m fine,” I snap in irritation. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” I storm over to the closet, open the door, and rummage through my clothes for a bit before deciding on a simple t-shirt and jeans. “Tell Gage to come along.”

  I rush to the bathroom in spite of Marquis’s protests and slam the door shut, locking it a moment later. I sag against the wooden frame, ignoring the loud shouts I hear at the other side. My older brother’s protests fill my bedroom, he knows I can hear him but he doesn’t know that I’m no longer paying attention to what he has to say.

  I’m filled with doubts and preoccupations. Dealing with his issues is on the bottom of my list of concerns. Let him rant all he wants. He will whether I listen or not.

  I turn and look around the room, my focus on nothing in particular.

  What will it take for me to be remotely normal? What will I have to do to have some peace in my life? To give my siblings peace? What will I be forced to do to assure they have a safe future? That they will have a future. Period.

  I can understand Raoul’s decision more and more with each passing second. But as much as I comprehend what led to his decision, it’s simply not a way out for me. Death by suicide will bring no measure of comfort to my family.