Genesis: (Book One of the True Luna Series)

by Texie D. Freeman

  She ignored his call and raced through the living room and up the stairs. On the second level, June opened the first door she came into contact with. Quickly, she slipped inside and slammed it shut behind her, turning the lock. Putting her back against the wood, she fought to catch her breath. However, between her erratic heart and torn insides it was impossible.

  There were three seconds of silence before Donovan arrive. Through the door, he sighed, “I’m sorry if I upset you, June. Open the door, please. You’re still healing. I need to be close to you for the bond to work.”

  Sliding down the door and onto the floor, she rested her head against it. June was silent until she felt like she could speak without sobbing, “No.”

  “No?” Donovan parroted.

  “Yes,” she sneered. “I said no. You have no clue what I’m going through. I am scared and confused and all you care about is this stupid imaginary connection. I’m the one who had a gun shoved in my hand. I’m the one was shot. I’m the one who woke up in a foreign place. All I’m asking is for a moment to grieve in peace.”

  There was silence and then, “Okay.”

  The wood jumped under her back. For a second, she thought he might break it down but then she saw his fingertips peaking underneath the door. June stared at his hand for a moment before something possessed her to reach out and take it. He didn’t say anything as her fingers brushed against his. They were barely even touching but it was enough contact to ease her nerves.

  Bringing her knees up to her chest, June dropped the wall that she had put up in her mind. Images of her family flashed in her mind, one after the other. Each of their faces felt like a punch to the gut because deep down, she had known what was happening the second she had woken up.

  She would never see Lenore smile again, hear one of Alister’s stupid jokes, be on the other end of Bran’s glare, or hug her father one last time. The realization made her feel like the world had been dropped on her shoulders. In this new reality, she was Atlas and there was no one around to help her carry the weight.

  /CHAPTER THIRTEEN/

  The smoke had June’s eyes watering long before she opened them. Through the tears that leaked freely down her face she saw bright orange flames traveling up the side of the sawmill. The already aged structure let out a threatening creak as the front right pillar gave out. The metal slates of the front awning caved without its support, kicking up a cloud of ash that floated in the air towards the parking lot.

  Stretching out an arm, June watched as flakes of embers landed on her hand. In the deep recess of her mind, she knew something was off. She couldn’t recall how she got to the sawmill or much less where she had been before then. However, as soon as she focused on it, the thought dispelled, and once more, she stared blankly into the fire.

  It could’ve been minutes or hours when June finally moved and not by choice. An invisible rope was tied around her waist and she was pulled forward. When the heat coming off the building hit her, sweat rolling down her back, the haze clouding her mind cleared.

  Digging her heels into the dirt, June fought against the force. She soon learned it was futile when her feet kept dragging her forward towards the open doors of the building. The hair on the back of her neck rose in trepidation.

  “No, please, no,” June begged. Under the threshold, she reached for something to grab. The metal knob was solid under her fingers but then shimmered and disappeared. Before she could contemplate what had just happened, she was deposited in the center of the mill.

  Here, the heat was the worst. It wrapped around her like a vice, squeezing June from all sides. The smoke she was forced to take in scorched her throat. Distracted, she almost didn’t see the body.

  June was searching for an exit when a long black shape hanging above her head caught her attention. The person was tied to a pillar which went all the way from the second floor to the roof. Black smoke curled around them, hiding their attributes as they croaked, “J…une...run. Run.”

  A rush of cold went down her back. She knew that voice.

  June raced to the nearest ladder. Without thinking, she put her hand on the first metal rung only to pull it back with a hiss. Turning her hand palm up, her stomach rolled at the oblong burn marring her palm. Pushing past the pain, she ripped the bottom of her shirt off and then pulled it apart so that it was in two strips. Wrapping the fabric around her hands, she put them back on the ladder and proceeded to climb.

  With each inch upward, the smoke grew thicker. June was panting by the time she made it onto the platform. Her lungs ached from exertion as she brought the collar of her ruined shirt over her mouth and nose. On her hands and knees, she crawled towards the pillar. The catwalk shook under her weight, threatening to come down.

  When June reached the intersection where the catwalk and the rafters connected, she slowly maneuvered herself underneath the safety ropes of the catwalk. It was more complicated than she expected. At one point, her left ankle got wrapped around the rope, she had to crawl backwards. Carefully she freed herself with one hand as the other held up her weight on wooden beam.

  Once she was free, June started forward again, keeping in the middle since the wood was much narrower than the catwalk. She was very aware of what little room she had as she made the mistake of looking down. Below her, in a span on minutes, the fire had reached the first level of the sawmill. Where she had been standing moments ago was now a sea of flames.

  Gritting her teeth, June pushed her fear aside.

  Finally reaching the pillar, she grabbed the base and used it for support to stand up. Her boots were unsteady against the wood, so she slipped them and her socks off. Letting them go, she watched them fall into the fire, instantly vaporized from this world.

  Raising her head, June turned to the pillar that was about ten feet from hers and called out, “Bran, I’m coming. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

  If Bran heard, he didn’t respond. His head hung low, and he remained still. From where she was, June couldn’t see if he was breathing.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, she edged towards him with her arms out to stay balanced. Heart hammering, June took her time although the fire was starting to climb higher. She could feel the wood under her feet start to burn. She let her mind go blank and her body take over until she was a step away from Bran.

  Her despair rose when she noted that he wasn’t tied to the pillar by rope. No, instead someone had secured him in place with a thick chain. There was no slack in the line but that didn’t stop June from pulling on the padlock that rested on Bran’s sternum.

  On her fourth try, Bran finally roused. His chapped lips parted. It was a few seconds before he uttered, “Go. June, please. Go.”

  She tugged on the chains again, doing her best to ignore the charred black skin dotting his hands. June was too scared to ask how he got the burn marks. Instead, she asked, “Who did this? Was it a hybrid?”

  “You did.”

  June dropped the chain. A lump formed in her throat as she meet Bran’s gaze. The glaze clouding his eyes was gone, replaced with icy clarity. “What are you talking about?”

  Bran blinked and smiled until his bottom lip split. A small rivet of blood dripped down his chin as he said, “You broke the rules and now he knows who you are. This is the only warning he’s going to let you have, June. Turn your back on the shifters or suffer the consequences.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him. “I have no intention on playing house with the hybrids. All I want to do is go home.”

  “We’ll see,” Bran remarked and jerked his head to the front of the sawmill, “he told me to tell you hi.”

  Turning her head, June’s breath caught in her chest. In the corner of the first floor was a tall shadow standing among the flames that moved around him, not touching him. With horror, she watched as he raised a hand and waved.

  Without thinking, June stepped back, quickly realizing her mistake a millisecond too late. A scream tore
its way through her throat as she fell through the air. The last thing she saw was Bran getting smaller and smaller and then the flames swallowed her whole.

  ***

  June’s eyes snapped open as something heavy collided with her chest, making her take in an involuntary lungful of air that quickly turned into a choke. Her hand went over her heart, feeling its erratic beating as she wheezed. It wasn’t until she could breathe normally, and her heart slowed, that June realized she was no longer alone.

  The first person she saw was Thalia standing in the doorway. The beta’s attentive eyes and bored expression was the least of June’s concerns. Looking up, she found Donovan staring down at her with glowing eyes. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her back to his chest with his legs on either side of hers. Coughing, June asked, “Did you just hit me?”

  “You weren’t breathing,” he explained, not looking the least bit apologetic. “I panicked.”

  “Maybe try CPR next time,” June suggested, rubbing her chest. She knew that by tonight she would have a huge bruise. “How did you get in here? I don’t remember unlocking the door.”

  Donovan’s eyes trailed off to the side. “I let myself in when I heard screaming. You were convulsing on the floor. Do you have a history of seizures? Our pack doctor can put you on medication—”

  “What? No, I was having a dreaming…I think. I can’t remember much of it.”

  The alpha looked like he was about to speak but was interrupted by Thalia asking, “What’s that on her hand?”

  June frowned as Donovan grabbed her wrist. He held it up so that both of them could see the odd shaped burn that ran across the middle of her palm. The mark was fresh and throbbed viscously.

  The image of a metal ladder flashed in June’s mind and she shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  Donovan turned her palm towards Thalia. “This wasn’t there a few hours ago. I think we have a problem.”

  “Of course we do,” Thalia scoffed. She leaned one shoulder against the door jam. “What did you expect to happen when you brought a hunter into the pack? Word gets around, Alpha.”

  It wasn’t her statement that bothered June but the tone. Her eyes narrowed at the beta. “Why are you even here? I know you are part dog but that doesn’t mean you have to follow Donovan around like one.”

  The beta’s eyes shifted from hazel to blazing gold. Her hands clenched as she took a step in the room. Before she could get any further, Donovan sharply spat, “Thalia! Go take a walk. We’ll resume our meeting later. Right now, I have to help my mate.”

  “She started it!” Thalia protested, pointing at June.

  June winked and mockingly waved at the other woman. “I think you heard your alpha. Bye-bye.”

  “Please, Thalia,” Donovan begged. He let out a breath when she turned on her heel with a grunt and stalked out of the room. A second later, he looked down at June with a pinched expression. “Was that really necessary? Having two high ranking pack members against you isn’t a great start at making a life here.”

  Sitting up, June glared at him over her shoulder. “Well, that’s nice because I don’t plan on staying.”

  Ignoring her declaration, he changed the subject. “What happened to your hand?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. While June was eventually going to leave, she didn’t want people thinking she was crazy. It was already bad enough she was a hunter. Why give the hybrids another reason to detest her?

  She expected him to shrug her off, that’s usually what Jace did when she averted a question. Instead, warmth bloomed in her chest when he gently grasped either side of her face, speaking softly, “I’m here for you, June. You can trust me.”

  “I—” she started and stopped as his eyes sucked her in like a current. The better half of her wanted to trust him. She wanted to ignore all her past hurts and heartaches and confess her soul to this man. Since that wasn’t such an easy task, she decided to start with something simple. “The last mission I went on was at a deserted sawmill. My team and I hunted down a hybrid that was phishing for teenagers online. He would lure them to the building at night and then bite them. Most of them didn’t survive. One committed suicide and the others were being abandoned by their families. The hunters traced the problem back to the source and we dealt with the issue.”

  Donovan’s face went through a series of expressions that started with skepticism and ended on disgust. “Was your dream about the rogue?”

  “No, but I was back at the sawmill,” June explained, “and it was on fire. Something pulled me into the building, and I saw my brother tied to a pillar. I went to climb the ladder and burned my hand.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I made it to him,” she said, “except it wasn’t my brother, at least, not quite. He went from telling me to go to say I would something about suffer. The last thing I remember is seeing this shadow figure and falling into the fire.”

  Under his breath, Donovan muttered something incomprehensible followed by a curse. The reaction didn’t spark a positive feeling in June. Hesitantly, she remarked, “If you know something, you have to tell me. What am I missing?”

  The alpha though it over before telling her, “The hunters have always focused on shifters and witches. They go for those that stand out and mostly ignore the minor species so long as they don’t call attention to themselves. Funny enough, one of those groups hate us just as much, if not more, than the humans. They’re called dream walkers.”

  “But I’ve never hunted a dream walker. Why would one of them come after me?”

  “That doesn’t matter to their kind. They torture mercilessly and take what they want.” His eyes flashed as he confessed, “Someone close to me suffered at the hands of one and she’s still paying.”

  “Who?” June pressed.

  “My sister,” Donovan answered, giving no further explanation as he scooted away and stood up. He held out a hand to June, eyes shining when she allowed him to pull her up. “If a dream walker has their sights set on you then we have to act fast.”

  “How?” she asked, severely hoping it didn’t involve the witches he had mentioned earlier. June’s circle of the supernatural was already big enough as is. At this point, if he said was that mermaids were real, she would believe him.

  “First, we’ll find you something else to wear,” Donovan said. He led her out the room by her uninjured hand. In his, he dropped his grip and went to the dresser. Pulling out a large black shirt and basketball shorts, he passed them over to June. “Put these on.”

  They weren’t much better than the sweatpants and oversized shirt she was already wearing but she took them anyway. “I don’t suppose you have a bra in there, too? Or, I don’t know, maybe the one I came here with?”

  Donovan winced. “No. I wasn’t in the room, but the pack doctor told me your…underwear wasn’t salvageable. The dress you were wearing was mended and is waiting to be washed. We can buy whatever you need while we’re in town.”

  “And what about your pack? What will they think when they see us together?” June asked, arching a brow. She imagined a mass riot and shuddered. Would he protect her from his own people or leave her to fend for herself?

  “They won’t see us,” he promised. “Where we’re going is private.”

  “And what place is that, exactly?”

  “Church,” Donovan sighed. “We’re going to church.”

  /CHAPTER FOURTEEN/

  For a list of reasons, the first being that June had sinned, like a lot, she wished that Donovan had been joking about going to church. Instead, an hour later, she sat in the passenger seat of his truck, staring up at a haunted looking cathedral. It was made of dark stone with stained glass windows and black shingles on its multi-level roofs. At the tip of the tallest tower was a sharp spire that reached towards the sky.

  “I want to this moment to remind you once again, I’m an atheist,” June commented, trying to not sound as scared as she felt while her stomach twisted itself
into a knot. She had seen enough scary movies in her life to know that nothing good could come from this adventure. “If you’re goal is to convert me it won’t work so we may as well just go back to the house.”

  “While I’ll never understand how the True Luna isn’t a believer of the goddess, my intention is not to push you into anything,” Donovan claimed. He undid his seatbelt and opened his door, giving her a look that said he expected her to follow.

  Rolling her eyes, June opened her door and climbed out of the cab. She walked around the front of the truck, shuddering at the sensation of the long grass skimming her bare legs. Beside the alpha, she pointed remarked, “If Nyx is real, then why would she pair you up with your enemy? That’s even a little too satire for me.”

  “I trust my goddess, June,” he stated, his tone daring her to argue, “and while the path she sets before us is sometimes confusing, I have faith. Whether you choose to believe in our bond right now or in the distant future, I’m going to commit to this with my whole heart. Nyx led us to one another for a reason. You aren’t my enemy, you’re my mate.”

  “That totally clarifies everything,” June muttered sarcastically and trudged forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Together, they trekked up the small hill at the base of the temple. Donovan was silent, probably processing what seemed to be their hundredth disagreement in less than twenty-four hours. She was starting to wonder if he was changing his mind about her when his hand grabbed hers, squeezing twice. June kept her eyes forward on the double doors of the church, fighting the urge to respond.

  Up close, the place looked a little more taken care of. The grass around the stone steps was freshly cut and the hedges were trimmed. Even the ivy growing up the wrought iron lattices was primmed and proper.

  They went up the steps, stopping in front of the doors. Donovan adjusted himself so that June was shielded behind him. “Stay close to me, okay?”