Page 27 of The Red Moon

I stare at him, silently begging him to turn to me. He doesn’t. Nikolai stares at the emblem on the steering wheel, his voice getting lower and more vicious with each word.

“Everything that’s gone wrong in your life is because of me. And as fucked up as it is, you are the only thing in my life I’ve ever gotten right.”

My mouth dries first. Then, my throat is greeted with the same cotton texture. I say nothing. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

“So, let’s not pretend you are here, scratched and bruised. Bitten …” He trails off and winces, the dash losing its glow. “Bitten for any other reason than me. Nothing I can say or do will ever make up for that, Natalia. For the curse running through your fucking veins right now.”

Tears blur my eyes, but I don’t look away. I stare at him. Pleading he’ll give me the same courtesy.

Nikolai sits taller in the seat and meets my gaze, his eyes impossibly gold and brimming. There’s a snarl to his voice now, and his rumbling chest vibrates the car’s interior. “I couldn’t even protect you. The only person I’ve ever fallen for. Imprinted on. How can I, the stain on my family’s legacy, stop something like this from happening to anyone else if I can’t even defend what’s mine?”

I was right.

He blames himself. For what happened to me. To Courtney. Nik closes his eyes and punches the dash, cracking the radio display in half and silencing the uncomfortable static wisping in the background. Can I blame him? No, I don’t think I can. He warned me not to come back to Völk, but I did. I went to his club repeatedly after knowing his secret and even forced Courtney to tag along. He’s no more responsible for her death than I am.

I bring my palms to his cheeks, fighting against his sharp jaw and turning his head until our eyes meet. Warmth blooms at the touch. His skin scalds mine, but I’m more than ready to accept the heat I’ve been deprived of. “You didn’t kill her, Nik.”

His eyes lock on mine, and the gold in each iris seems to glow brighter.

“You didn’t kidnap me. You didn’t give me this curse. Viktor did.”

Shame twists Nik’s features first, then, his cheekbones tighten with rage. His nostrils flare. Strong cords emerge on each side of his thick neck. A tremendous heat blocks out the SUV’s air-conditioning working double-time. I welcome it. Invite the boiling temperature to spread from his body to mine.

“So, let me ask you something,” I say, one side of my face tilting into a smirk.

His grip somehow tightens on the steering wheel an extra inch, rough skin at his fingers losing another shade. But he doesn’t look away from me. No, his pupils darken and spread to the whites. Something flashes in his eyes, then. Not the same gold and black hue I’ve seen countless times. It’s different.

An arterial red takes over his eyes and flashes away just as quick.

“What is my alpha going to do about it?”

Nikolai glances down, his brow furrowing. When he looks at me again, there’s a merciless edge to each gold-plated eye. “I’m going to kill them all.”

EIGHTEEN

NIK

“Alexey Sarkov,” he shouts at the hotel receptionist, wincing in pain against the registration desk. “Ty glupyy?”

I knew asking a wounded Alexey to get us a room was risky, but I never imagined it’d lead to him asking the woman behind the counter if she was stupid. An unfortunate necessity. By now, my cards will be shut off from the Vostik fortune, and I can’t exactly have Dimitri get the room when the pack would recognize his name as easily as mine. None of them know about Alexey. No, my father would’ve had him ripped apart the second he found out about the surveillance. For now, he’s our best option to avoid the pack finding us. From finding her.

Natalia fell asleep long before the sun rose over the city of Samara, my pack’s old hunting grounds. A Vostik hasn’t hunted here for decades, not since the treaty. Some people go missing from time to time, but it’s not a wolf behind it, at least, not one of ours. The Russian government made sure of that. Whenever a citizen can’t be found, our den is the first place they check, armored vehicles barreling through the front gates with weapons designed to kill our kind readied. My father isn’t stupid, though. He’d kill any wolf bloodthirsty enough to ignore the truce. While he appreciates monsters joining his ranks, he wouldn’t tolerate one that puts themselves before the pack.

I continue listening to Alexey from the SUV parked out front, my hands still at the ten and two position. Maybe I was wrong. I half-expect a doubled-over Alexey to be escorted outside, a room short and us traveling to the next hotel within driving distance. He’s still losing a lot of blood judging by the stench of nickel bandages clashing with floor cleaner and the potted flowers scattered throughout the entryway. Not just any flower. The reason this was our first stop. Wolfsbane. I guess some people don’t forget the old ways of deterring my kind.

I steal a glance at her, taking in the soft lines of her brow growing deeper and more defined. She’s dreaming again. Fighting might be a better word. They come in waves, first a subtle groan, followed by her body shifting. Tense limbs jolting like she’s running from something I can’t stop. Then, Natalia goes still, and the soft snores return. I won’t disturb her. I can’t after everything she’s gone through. My little wolf’s earned some sleep.

“Nyet, nyet, nyet. It’s Alexey!” He raises his voice louder and starts tapping his credit card on the counter.

I shake my head and turn back to Natalia. Her leg has already started healing, the only hint of blood a dried stain on the white bandages covering her ankle. While I’m relieved her body isn’t rejecting the bite, it doesn’t erase the guilt shredding my stomach to confetti anytime I look her in the eyes.

I’ve seen more humans turn than I’d care to admit. Every time my father gave someone the curse, whether for financial or political gain, there was always a gamble. Half survived the transformation, maybe less. When I chose to bite Ida, Dimitri’s sister, we all knew the risk, but when someone’s already served a death sentence, there’s really nothing else to be afraid of, not even becoming a monster. She asked me if it’d hurt, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her—someone I considered my own sister—it would. How she would sleep for days after. The way her body would feel like it was ripping apart from the seams. She was already in pain, but the sickness she battled every day would feel like a flea bite in comparison. Ida fought the way she always did. Strong, like her brother. Like a real wolf.

She healed. She thrived. And eventually, she could move without our assistance. Even pushed us away with a strength rivaling Dimitri’s when we’d try to help. She was whole again. Happy. But you can’t choose your family, and her drastic change from bedridden and absent to following me and Dimitri into the woods again didn’t go unnoticed. I have my suspicions on what pack member revealed the truth to my father, but he never admitted to it. Not even when I buried my claws in his thigh. It didn’t matter, though. My father was disgusted by my decision to save her, and, well, Dimitri had to say goodbye to an empty grave.

Like Ida, my little wolf is turning. It’s impossible not to notice the subtle changes. Even when backed into the corner near Alexey’s monitors at the factory, her heartbeat wasn’t erratic in the way I committed to memory. The rhythmic patterns. How one beat might be soft while the other has the same force of a crossbow string slamming forward. Sure, the scent helps a wolf track, but if you can hear the differences in these palpitations, you can pinpoint your prey on a crowded city block. I’ve listened to Natalia’s heart when she is terrified.

Excited.