Page 26 of The Red Moon

A wide, toothy grin emerges, the front teeth coated red. “I mean no disrespect, Nikolai. You, werewolf prince. Her, your princess.” Alexey waves his arms in the air, wincing when he lifts them above his head. He makes it a point to wink at me, and continues, “Now, if I said please, beautif— Ahh!” he screams as Dimitri empties nearly half the bottle of rubbing alcohol on the claw marks lining his stomach.

I purse my mouth tight but can’t stop the laugh from escaping me. “Nice to meet you, too, Alexey.”

Dimitri unravels the gauze and begins wrapping it around his midsection. “Your tattoo,” he says, pointing at the black letters below the wounds. “Is this Latin?”

“Da,” Alexey seethes. “It means hurry the hell up before I bleed out.”

I turn back and manage to stay upright despite the pain in my lower stomach. The best way I can describe the sensation is foil on a capped molar, but that might even be a luxury at this point. Every inch of my body constricts, cutting off what circulation I had before they loaded this SUV with things only God might be privy to. I don’t know what it is, but I know my insides don’t agree with their travel choices. Vomit sits ready at the back of my tongue, waiting for the checkered flag to decorate the expensive passenger floors a new shade of green.

“It’s the silver,” Nikolai says curtly, and reaches into the side panel. When he lifts his hand, there’s a bottle of water he wastes no time uncapping with his teeth. “Drink. It’ll help.”

I take it from him and draw a few sips. The liquid slides down my throat easily enough but seems to simmer at first. Then, the water reaches a rolling boil as it hits my chest. I choke. I spit. I make the most embarrassing sounds I’ve ever made, somehow outdoing Alexey howling in the backseat. When I finally manage to swallow down what I can, I cough out a “Thank you.”

He simply nods and stares forward.

I sit with my hands folded in my lap, doing little else than watching the trees pass by in a blur. The bite still hurts, but the parts where Viktor’s teeth cut the deepest no longer radiate a sharp discomfort in my ankle. This is either good … or really bad. Sure, the pain fading into the background is great and all, until you consider why that might be.

It means I’m healing.

Not the same way a human might recover after a few days’ rest and a strict antiseptic cleaning routine. I’m healing because I’m not the same Natalie that was hauled into the Vostik compound. Viktor made sure of that. One bite. That’s all it would take. The memory of his threat sends chills up my spine. What would my brother think about you then, hmm? His little pet becoming the one thing he hates about himself? He knew he couldn’t stop me from escaping, so he gave me something I couldn’t outrun. A curse.

I glance at Nik, wondering how true Viktor’s taunts might’ve been. Is this why he couldn’t even look at me when he grabbed the water? Why it seemed almost painful at the factory to speak to me? I tried not to notice, but the difference in how he acts toward me now is clear.

As if reading my mind, Nik takes his hand off the steering wheel and places it on my thigh. I don’t flinch or push him away. No, I invite the familiar heat to spread from my leg through my entire body like wildfire. It’s the only thing that feels normal. Natural. Here I am on a street I can’t pronounce, traveling through a country not on my bucket list of travel destinations. I need something, anything to make this high-pitched ringing in my ears lose a decibel.

“Don’t do that,” he says, his brow knitting together.

“Do—what?” I stammer.

“Trap yourself in your own head.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, the bright gold reflecting off the windshield. “Talk to me.”

In an instant I’m transported back to his loft above Club Völk, moments before our first kiss. He knew how I was spiraling then, and even now, it seems my old habits die hard. I’m not sure if it’s some supernatural intuition or the way my heart can’t manage to sit still, but he knows. He always does.

“Why isn’t the silver hurting you?” I deflect.

A small grin emerges as he gives my thigh a light squeeze. “It does, but I’ve built up a tolerance.”

“Tolerance?” How in the hell can someone build up a tolerance to this? I can barely breathe, let alone talk without my windpipe shriveling. But he gives no signs of discomfort. No, the only discomfort coming from him seems to be because of me.

“Poison makers take small doses of their own projects, only so it can’t be used against them. With time, they’d build up an immunity. What we feel.” Nik pauses, his jaw losing slack, and glances out the driver’s side window. After a small moment, he returns his gaze to the road ahead, once again highlighting the dash with his inhuman eyes. “What we feel with silver, is no different. The more you’re around it, the easier it’ll be to handle.”

“Easier,” I scoff. “Great. Guess I’m going to have to get rid of my grandma’s silverware set.” I huff out a laugh, earning silence from the rest of the car. Well, besides the constant hisses of pain coming from the backseat.

Nik lowers his head, long hair dancing at his taut shoulders. He opens his mouth and closes it, then returns his hand from my thigh to the steering wheel. The spot cools within seconds. This is what hurts the most, I think. Here he is, begging me to talk to him, yet when I open the door an inch, he slams it shut like there’s something horrible waiting for him on the other side. He’s not alone up there, that much he’s made clear. So, what is the wolf inside him saying?

“Is something wrong?” I ask, every syllable dripping with spite. “I didn’t ask for this, you know? I didn’t volunteer to be in your pack’s little kill cage, and I definitely didn’t tell your brother to fucking bite me.”

The entire SUV tilts forward as Nikolai slams on the brakes, boxes and crates crashing against the second row of seats. The tires screech. Everyone careens for the windshield, and Alexey’s groans reach a surprised and pain-filled octave. But Nik, he doesn’t turn away from the still road in front of him. He sits unwavering, clenching his hands over the wheel until each large knuckle blanches white.

“I failed you, Natalia.”

I stare at him with disbelief, processing each word slowly. Failed me? He saved me. Viktor was seconds away from decorating the cellar with a Natalie skin rug. And after all the horrible things I’ve watched him do, I know both Viktor and his wolf would’ve enjoyed it, too. If Nik didn’t come for me when he did, I don’t know if I’d even be here in an idle car on— I glance at the street sign in front of us. Fuck it’s just symbols and squiggly marks.

“Your friend is dead.”

A pit settles in my stomach deeper than silver could ever produce.

“I let you get taken by my family.”