Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1) (14 page)

BOOK: Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1)
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(25) Wild...lings?

 

|Scarlet's POV|

We've been standing under the midnight moonshine for nearly an hour now, the person threatening us a no show yet, the conviction that this is just a joke, a tasteless one, growing.

Has it all been a lie? Have we come here for nothing? Or is this just a part of that person' sick entertainment?

Making us wait in the midst of the nude, barren from greenery land with the few, graveyard-like stones planted in the still hardened from the fading cold ground, is this funny to him?

Wild desert stretching to the shadows of the treeline, silence, not even a sound from any animal or bird permeating the eerily quiet, is this some kind of punishment we are receiving?

The first sound that comes is that of footsteps. Approaching.

Whoever our little joker is, he or she, no-

They...
 
are coming.

Monsters you never believed could be real. They are. And they are here.

A new life. A brand new start after leaving the past where it belongs. Behind. You can settle into that peaceful routine and forget. However, the thought keeps gnawing at you.

It will find you. Just like they have.

There are tales about them from the dawn of time. Hushed fables told by the moon children. Some believe, others doubt. Those are the stories you tell to frighten little children into submission, the hushed whispers around the campfire, the ones you know can't be real yet you keep wishing they are not. Perhaps, you recognize the grain of truth, just don't allow yourself to believe. The moon children are, after all, still human, sharing that natural instinct for self-preservation as they walk the earth amongst those who keep their eyes tightly shut to all things unthinkable.

Those children look up to the Moon for guidance, they pray and hope for her mercy but, sometimes, forget the lessons she has taught them and ignore her unspoken warnings.

Tales are just tales. Until they are not.

More beasts than men, they are nothing alike their brothers and sisters who serve Her brighter side. Everything good inside them is gone. Everything natural has turned insane.

Feeding off of humans, of their own people, they take and savor, feasting in their learned or, perhaps, hereditary cannibalism. They don't bind themselves to a land and a territory, they don't war over such things. No, what they need is flesh and blood and freedom to roam and exterminate everything in their path. They don't need bonds or true mates. They mate in the heat and discard their lovers when the deed is done. They will teach their children the same lessons they've learned and continue their defying nature traditions.

Those who stand on their path rarely live to tell the story, or if they do, they keep silent. You don't want to become their enemy.

The beastly men step out from the shadows, their cover - blown as soon as they enter into the clearing. The Moon lights their features yet it is a troublesome task to make sense оф what you see under the hairy facades they have.

The two males are so much alike you could mistake them for twins, except that they have different height and body structure. The one on the left is slightly smaller than the giant walking less than a step ahead.

Flanking him like a hairy, beastly bodyguard, the giant wouldn't need much help if he sets himself on to the task of defending himself.

Not wearing any clothes, they hardly need to. Their fur covers them as well as any clothing would, the only sign that they are in fact males - the musky filled with testosterone scent that seems to be reeking off their flesh. It is the first time I'm setting my eye on creatures such as these two, still, from the first notice I know what they are.

Those are the monsters. The wildlings. I've heard the stories so many times as a little child that I could never mistake them.

The bigger one has a multitude of battle marks. His fur giving way to bare flesh where the carvings weave on his body. Half of his face and chest bare, burns melted the fine, black hairs and leaving disfigured mass of pale, gruesome mess on display, the muscles seem to be intact when the surface layer of skin is long gone. A walking horror come alive in its most terrifying shape and form.

The creatures' eyes unique, they look at us like two orbs of melted gold, frozen in their wolf shape just like the men are. Walking on human feet, they are much more beastly than any actual wolf could be. Claws, muzzle, canines, they are all wolf while the shape of their bodies is more human. Predators of a much greater strength than any of the shifting moon children could be. We forsook our battle forms when we choose to live like humans, only howling at the Moon for a few nights a month. They live, breathe, mate in that shape. They don't change forth and back.

"Cooole Wiinteeers, wee meeeet agaain," the giant speaks, halting in the middle of the clearing. His voice even, coming out in a semblance of human speech, is a low, shiver-worthy gurgle as if his vocal cords are too damaged to produce anything else. Rusty with a lack of use.

"Such a pleasure to know you found others to our taste," the other chimes in a melodic voice, words vocalized to perfection, as shocking as their very existence is to me. "Right, Alpha?"

"A treeaaat," the giant, obviously the Alpha, smiles, showing a sharp pointed set of canines. Small fires lit up in those eyes, his half-disfigured muzzle-lips carve over the teeth.

"What do you want?" Cole growls, his beastly side woken by the threat.

I don't know how he knows them, or how they know him. In all honesty, I'm not sure if I even want to find that out, and I don't ask. I'm frozen in place as I watch the shorter wildling struggle for words, his eyes heeding the Moon's help as if She's somehow going to hint him for the right words.

"Alpha wants you back, Cole," the name is spat out like it is a curse or an equally distasteful term. "He wants his brother by his side instead of having you cowering and casting yourself with human filth or one of these mutts."

"Brooothaaa," the Alpha gurgles, flickering a serpent-like tongue over his lips, what's left of them.

Stealing a glance at the others, curious to gauge their reaction to the news that Cole is related to these creatures, they look afraid, but not surprised. Faces pale, struck in horror expressions, their eyes flicker to the woods, probing into the shadows even if there is nothing to see there.

The woods are too quiet. The minutes keep ticking by in numb terror.

"On my signal, 
run
," Cole breathes out, the words a foggy whisper meant just for us. They hear us, the low rumble tumbling from his chest says that much.

"don't worry, Scar. We will protect you," Micah says softly, her warm hand squeezing mine, its grip tight, hurting me but letting me go, it feels like she's left me.

"Ready... Now!"

So many of them, just a heartbeat later, like reapers come to take the last breath of life, they are clustering around us with a speed that's far from what normal beasts are capable of.

Coming here was a mistake.

One last look at the pack of monsters rushing toward us, I bolt, falling in step with the others. Not questioning the order. Never questioning the reasoning behind it. I don't hold back on instinct. I do not go slow or gentle into the night.

With a lightening speed, as fast as my feet would carry me, I trust them to lead me away from the danger.

The rustle of steps from behind, the wheezing of air as they move, bodies chase after us. Not falling behind.

They move airborne through the trees, feet not even close to scratching the forest ground.

Not chancing a backward glance, "Faster! Don't let them catch you!" Cole shouts.

Listening to his urgent cries, to the sizzling of air and the rustle of our own foot, we keep running until muscles start screaming with exhaustion gaining on flesh and there's no breath our lungs can keep inside.

Panic. Fear. Trees swirling past me, blurred in my vision as I try to keep up, I'm not as fast as they are. Turning in the opposite direction of the house, "Where are we going?" I call out.

"Leaving." Slowing down his pace a notch, stretching out his hand, fingers closing around mine, Adam tugs me after him.

Body crumbling from exertion, it's sheer will making me put one foot in front of the other.

"Faster. Faster. Faster." The cadence is repeating like a mantra.

(26)The Last Resort

 

|Scarlet's POV|

For someone like me, this is the only thing that really matters. Family is everything. Not the ones who watched me grow up and nurtured that little girl - they are long gone now, but the people who helped me in the moment of need.

Mom died eight years ago, never managed to live up the shame of having me. My stepdad, my former pack's late Alpha, he did as much as he could. He tried. But soon after his mate's untimely demise, he broke down too.

It is a common belief amongst the moon children that mates are salvation, medicine to old wounds and new, however, I've watched the bond failing to heal and instead only wounds my mother further as she withered away. She was loved. She was being forgiven her mistakes. Yet, she could never forgive herself. Even when she tried to love those who loved her in return she loathed everything, herself included.

Bonds and blood are not magic. They fail you even if you tell yourself you won't be brought down. For eighteen years they failed me, time and again.

Those who never did are not of my flesh and blood. We do not share any other connection than simple friendship, but we care for each other as if we are, in fact, related. Love, this is what never fails you. Never will and, in a way, what we feel for each other is love, even if it's not the passionate, greedy kind of love. It is better. It is sharing, giving, trusting...

They trust me to save us. I never thought I will be the one to wield that power but today I am. A two edged blade that will save them but hurt me. I do not wish to be hurt but I will let it happen if that means saving what I cherish the most.

The people I love despite what they are.

I've dreamed about it. That other kind of love, not the one I am supposed to accept just because She wills it so, not because of fate I am unable to control... Because of a person who makes my heart flutter faster and my knees go weak every time I see him, breathe the same air.

Dreams are not real. Thick wood, a door behind which every nightmare lives, this is real.

The number of his suite glaring back at me in the dimly lit up hall, the bond's screaming deafening in the silence of the place, my body is numb, my breath is shaking with the feelings wreaking havoc in once a peaceful chest.

Hesitant to bring my fist up, slowly grasping the lack of other choices, my hand trembling on approach, I rap my knuckles on the door.

To take and hide us within his pack or send us away - it will be his decision in the end.

No sound coming from inside, my selfish hope raising its ugly head to stare back at me, I can't stop myself but think.

"Perhaps he's not here," I voice the thought softly, that same hope audible despite my effort to hide it. Not looking at me as if it's their own, they know that shame is lacing vines through my every cell.

"Let me do it." Gently pushing me off the way, Adam bangs on the door several times, sheltering me from my guilt even now.

A loud groan sounds from inside, followed by a grumpy, "Who the fuck is it?"

Turning to me, grinning deviously, he arches a challenging brow my way and winks. "See? This is how it's done." My indecision is already forgotten.

"Rise and shine, lover boy! Your girl won't be playing sitting duck for much longer," he hollers to the man on the other side.

Another groan and then shuffle of clothes, at last, followed by his approaching steps. A few seconds later, the door is flung open and a very irritated Alpha is standing in front of us, only wearing a pair of running shorts hanging low on his otherwise perfectly naked body. His dark flocks of hair are messier than usual and his forest greens are rimmed with sleep. Sexy as hell, I admit, troubled to contain my own bodily reaction to the sight of him. I need to remind myself it's just the connection between us. Nothing I feel towards this man is real.

He takes a few moments to inspect the scene presented to his still sleepy eyes, surprise etched on his face when he sets those spring colored orbs on my sweaty and exhausted form. I'm sure I must look like someone has chewed me down and then spat me out. I certainly feel like it after what we've been through.

The shock melts into a slow, lazy smile and his tongue flickers over those lips once his attention settles down upon me. My body responding with a violent shiver, my insides decide to do a somersault from the butterflies going crazy somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach or, well, yes, lower. This can't be happening to me. It's not real.

To my utter and complete mortification, my knees decide that this is just the right moment to go jelly on me. Traitors.

Before I can get a grip on myself, a hand grasps my elbow, preventing one very embarrassing collision with the ground. A growl erupts from the direction of the nearly naked male standing at the doorstep.

I take a deep breath, opting to feed my oxygen starved brain with much-needed air which, hopefully, is going to do the trick and rid me of the bizarre sensations, but, instead I only manage to catch on his scent. Heaven.

Choking down the unwelcome thought, I jerk myself off Adam's steadying grip.

"I'm alright," I assure him, straightening up on shaky feet, my gaze darting towards the other male who seems to be watching us with narrowed in suspicion eyes. He is jealous or, at least, disapproving of Adam's proximity to me.

"So...hmm," Alpha clears his throat, an unexpected blush coloring his cheeks when he notices me watching. "What brings you here this early? Don't misunderstand, I have no objection to my mate dropping off for a surprise visit but it makes one wonder after yesterday's welcome."

"We need a favor," Cole is the one who speaks up, breaking the awkward silence as we all watch Alpha for a reaction to those words. I observe him quietly as he looks at one, then another one of my friends, at last, his inquiring stare stopping on me.

Swallowing back the last bit of pride I have left and squashing down my ingrained disgust towards this person who has caused me more pain than any other, haunted my nightmares for years long, I say the words I never thought I will. "We need your help, Alpha."

It takes him a moment to gauge the meaning of that statement, his own to befall us still when a guileful smile blemishes his flawless facade as the wheels in his head turn, counting the possibilities.

"And what do I get in return for my help?" he inquires.

All eyes turn on me in expectation. Stifling a heavy sigh, I bellow in nothing but a whisper, "A chance."

Not sparing a heartbeat to think it through and consider that there is still a story we need to tell and explain what that request implements, "You got yourself a deal," Alpha concludes.

"A deal," I echo back, offering him a hand to shake.

A deal with the devil, his fingers curling around mine, he's never been one to miss on an opportunity.

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