Page 6 of The Red Moon
The heart.
His body hurls back and slams into the pavement. He writhes against the hard cement while fighting off the fire sure to be igniting silver in each extremity, pumping waves of toxic minerals from his torso to his feet. There’s nothing he can do now. It’s lodged too far to pull out and heal. He’s dying, and the wolves around him can only do the same thing I do.
Watch.
Why does the human get to have all the fun? my wolf asks, adding an extra beat to my already spiking heart rate. I glance toward Dimitri, crossbow in hand and another arrow readied. He can take out the rest of them with ease. Four more arrows is all it would cost. But Dimitri doesn’t. He stands tall and gives me an approving nod.
About time, my wolf scoffs.
I don’t respond. I do little else than drop the guards I’ve kept in place. Pain is the first sensation. Pain and an immediate stretch of my mind and body I can’t explain. Two separate minds agreeing on one simple thing. None of them will leave this hangar alive. I take a deep breath, welcoming the agonizing burn that sets in when sharp cracks appear on my forearms.
“He’s turning!” one screams and sprints toward me.
Dark brown fur pokes through each fissure, filling the blackened void of my body splitting in two. Pain swells as I twist and contort to the beast taking over, growing larger and more monstrous by the second. The clothes I spent the past fourteen hours in shred off my body, landing in small pieces of fabric near my feet. My hands morph into deadly claws, each lethal nail gleaming off the sunlight shining down to the tarmac. A deafening crack disrupts the silence as the bones in my legs, my arms, my spine, shifts uncomfortably. Skin melts off of me in ribbons while blood leaves a tremendous red sheen over me taking my true monstrous form.
I slash upward, my large, clawed hand landing at his sternum and ripping out things better left unseen. Blood spews from the gaping hole in his throat, painting my fur a darker shade of crimson than before. Three more move in from each angle, teeth barred and eyes a disturbing shade of black. They’re strong. Fast. Worst of all, they aren’t just trying to stop me. This isn’t a detention. It’s a kill box.
I duck the sharp claws of one, only for another wolf to appear off my right. Before he can strike, I sink my teeth into his shoulder, ripping a sizeable chunk of flesh into my mouth. It splats to the ground and paints the cement a delicious shade of red. These men work for my father. The same man that made the stupid fucking mistake of taking the one person keeping this animal grounded. And now? Well, I’m butchering his men for sport. And despite the humanity I’ve tried so desperately to keep my whole life, for the first time, I am fucking enjoying it.
The wolf’s eyes widen in horror when I thrust my hand forward and rip through his chest until my claws break free on the other side. It only takes an instant to see them turn a different color. A dim, almost lifeless gray.
Two more, my wolf says and I agree, taking stock of the ones still circling around us to find any sort of weakness before they can attack. Unfortunately, these new additions to the Vostik pack didn’t count on something, the same thing my own father or Viktor didn’t expect.
We are one, the voice in my head says in a low, stern huff.
The crank of a drawstring slamming forward is the first noise I hear, followed by the sharp whistle disrupting the still air. The arrowhead gleams off the sunlight, the silver almost too painful to look at. He doesn’t notice. No, the wolf is too focused on me to catch a glimpse of certain death spiraling his way. He howls when the arrow lands true. The sound, regardless of how hungry I am for his execution, pierces my ears at an unsettling octave.
I stalk toward the last surviving member of this kill squad. He’s young. A slim build. Free of the scars a wolf might gain with age. Not even old enough to buy a drink in what remains of Club Völk back in LA.
A kid, I think and my wolf snarls in agreeance. My father is adding teenagers to the pack. Building an army with whoever can survive the bite. He doesn’t sprint for the woods like I expect him to. He doesn’t whimper the way a dog might cower. No. Surprisingly enough, he drops to his knees, lowers his head, and exposes his neck for my judgment.
I stand above him, my hot breath blowing the strands of black hair dangling in his face to the side. He winces, awaiting the inevitable crunch of our jaws collapsing around his throat.
Leaving him alive is a mistake, my wolf states plainly. No mercy. No remorse in his harsh tone. He won’t be a pup forever.
I am not my father. The fur sheds off my body, landing in small piles near my shifting feet. Each leg snaps in place, keeping me upright as my fingers and arms return to their normal state. I’m transforming, and despite my wolf growling at my defiance, I put up my guards and let the human form take over. It’s painful. Excruciating. Fire engulfs each extremity, burning at a temperature hot enough to melt steel.
This mercy is going to get us both killed, the wolf says, each syllable as rough as the pavement sanding the skin of my padded feet.
The kid peers upward, two large, frightened eyes meeting mine.
I hunch forward, closing the distance between us. “Tell my father, I am coming for her. And no one, not the pack, not Viktor, not even an alpha, is going to fucking stop me.”
FIVE
NATALIE
I have somehow managed to become a bigger enemy than the werewolves keeping us in this fucking cage. Had I known one tipped bucket of water would cast me public enemy number one, maybe I would’ve hid in the back of this cell with the rest of them. If they only knew what was coming. Seen the things I have. Surely, water would be the least of their concerns.
Even Veronica, who clung to me the moment I woke up here, has taken it upon herself to create a little distance. Not that I mind. To be honest, I’d much rather us be on different continents, let alone the far side of an enclosure that seems to shrink each time I survey the crowd. It’s funny, she still has no clue why Nikolai brought her here, nor does she realize I know exactly what kind of monster she really is. Before Viktor took control Völk and the Vostik farming, Nik made it a point to kidnap those he thought were irredeemable. The worst society had to offer. She made the list, and I can’t say I’m not surprised.
“I will explain everything when I get back,” he had said, the confidence in his features visibly absent. There was something else, though. Worry. Panic. His golden eyes didn’t reflect that of the poised club owner, nor a werewolf finding peace in his own skin. For the first time, that unnatural glow I was drawn to from the moment I met him was dim. Flickering like the lights above us in this small room.
Völk. The hottest club in LA was merely a front to seduce people into becoming hors d’oeuvres for his pack. A hunting ground for things that shouldn’t exist. I shoot another glance at Veronica, disheveled blonde hair falling down her back and dirt stains on each cheek. Did he look at her the same way he saw me? Saw through me? I’d like to think their conversations were short and somewhat vapid, but then again, everything I thought I knew about Nikolai Vostik was just another domino waiting to fall and reveal the horrible string of secrets.
He isn’t coming for me. No one is. I am going to die in some remote Russian compound, and the only thing left will be my bones should Viktor decide he doesn’t enjoy the taste. The entire pack will shift and chase us through the Vostik property in less than three weeks. And if I can’t find a way out of here before the blood moon, none of us will survive.
The staircase door creaks open, and a small sliver of light accents the cobwebs swaying in the sudden draft. A shadow appears, and with it, a hunched, almost uncomfortable stature. The first step downward stretches the wood with an eerie groan, and after ten agonizing seconds and a labored breath, they take another step. Each movement brings a new notch of terror ticking in my chest like a bomb countdown nearing zero.
