Page 73 of The Red Moon

White hot rage flashes in her features. She shoves me back with enough force to slide my body across the dirt and doubles over, her heart rate tripling. “Go!” she screams, but it isn’t her. Not completely. A low, monstrous voice has taken over, and before long, the rest of the woman I love will be gone, too. They both are right. There’s nothing I can do to help her now, and if I stay here, who knows how many of us will actually live to see sunrise.

Another wolf’s heart rate flatlines, and in that moment, I know I can’t wait any longer. I stand, letting the divine energy of the blood moon flow through my veins for the first time tonight. It took every ounce of control I possess to stay in my human form, but the moment I drop my guards and allow this incredible sensation in, a raw power unlike anything I have ever felt hits me in a destructive wave.

I draw in a deep breath, calming each tense muscle pleading for the shift it was promised. The bones in my legs crack and take on a bipedal shape. Fissures reappear on my arms, brown fur growing from each cavity. I scream. Not out of pain or torment, but for the fury spreading through me like an inferno. Within seconds, my body explodes into the shape of a monster hellbent on ending this nightmare. I don’t care what the myths say about these things. If it has a heartbeat, it can be killed, and I’ll claw through every single one of them if it means keeping her safe.

I rush from tree line, a large gait on all fours gaining momentum. The wolves rally around the largest of the pack near the southeast wall of the mansion. Clément. The sheer size of this alpha is only outdone by his ferocity. I’ve heard stories of the cunning French wolf under the light of a full moon, but I never imagined after these years he could still hold such an impressive form.

Five. Five wolves remain while the rest of their pack is scattered in pieces across the property. I should’ve known better. We prepared to fight my father, not a brood of soulless, and whether or not this was by his design, I can’t shake the feeling that he knew exactly how tonight would play out long before I even stepped foot in Russia. Ten steps. Ten fucking steps ahead.

The howl escaping me is loud enough to draw every pair of lifeless eyes in my direction. Fresh blood drips down their lips and chins while the rest of their skin is pale near the point of blue. Long, gangly arms hang low at the soulless’s sides, each complete with boney fingers and nails sharper than our claws. There are different stories of what these things might look like, and somehow, the creatures staring at me now are worse than all of the rumors combined. Werewolves might’ve been cursed by the devil, but the soulless must’ve been created in his image.

And just when I think they’re going move to attack me, the group returns their keen attention to the Duval pack. I howl again. Nothing. They continue to corner the wolves, some even reaching for the smaller ones cowering behind Clément. Do they not consider me a threat? Why wouldn’t they⁠—

Your blood, my wolf growls. They can smell it.

My blood? Clearly, my father is working with these monsters. For how long, I still can’t figure out. Does that mean they know anyone with Vostik blood is off-limits?

Blood is their life source. The soulless thirst for it ways we could never comprehend. They might not be able to hear a wolf coming, but they can smell the blood pumping through a wolf’s body from miles away. Whoever leads these creatures ensured your father and anyone carrying his blood wouldn’t be harmed. How, I’m not sure.

Even now as I draw near, their backs remain turned to me, all deadly focus reserved for Clément and what’s left of his pack. But my blood is on their chest plates. Wouldn’t that stop the soulless from attacking them?

He gives an annoyed huff. Obviously not.

Clément slashes the closest one within reach, cutting clean through half of its neck. It doesn’t matter how much blood gushes from the wound, though, nor does the creature even seem to care how its head cranes at an unnatural angle. It charges for Clément and pummels straight into the chest plate, knocking him back into the mansion wall. A tremendous thud echoes throughout the property as the foundation cracks and shudders.

Gods. How in the hell can we stop something that can do that?

A low voice rumbles in the back of my mind. Carefully.

Feeling every muscle in my legs ignite, I leap through the air, and clear not only the soulless, but the wolves fighting for survival. I launch myself higher than I thought possible, descending the eastern wall of my childhood home. If these things won’t attack me because I’m a Vostik, then it’s time to even the score. I have a plan, and I just have to pray the creatures aren’t as difficult to kill as Clément claimed.

I dig both claws into the side of the mansion, holding myself up by the foundation. The soulless continue to advance on the wolves, showing no interest in me or what’s coming for them. Good. I kick off the wall and aim for the creature beneath me. It doesn’t matter that his neck tilts to the side in a way that churns my stomach, this thing still moves forward.

Any idea how to kill these things?

No, he snarls. But I imagine it would be difficult for them to regrow their heads.

Fair point. I draw back my clawed hand, readying to attack. My bloodcurdling roar shakes the entire property. Twenty feet. The creature still has its vile gaze locked on the alpha getting to his feet. Fifteen. It bares its fangs and hisses at Clément. I know if I don’t stop this monster now it’ll be the last sound Clément ever hears. Ten. I only have one shot at this. Five. Now! my wolf screams.

I swing my arm, channeling the power of the blood moon, and target the tendons healing on its neck. It doesn’t dart away. No, this thing doesn’t even know I’m here. I stretch my claw at the last second and strike with all my strength. My nails slice through its skin and cartilage first, then its protruding spine. The creature’s mouth wrenches open as my claw emerges on the other side of its throat coated in onyx blood. His head flips through the air, drenching the brood behind him in a horrible shade of black fluids. The body crumples, and the decapitated face of this creature rolls across the ground, collecting dirt on its forehead and sunken cheeks. Now, every pair of snake-like eyes moves from the alpha to me.

It's not dead, my wolf warns.

What? That’s not possible. Of course it’s⁠—

Terror seizes my limbs, and my heartbeat races. Its fingers twitch at first, then, they dig into the earth. A combined hiss works through the crowd, the sound coming from every single soulless surrounding us, even from the severed head at their feet.

I howl. I howl as loud as my voice will carry, drowning out the soulless’s threat with one of my own. Clément and his pack stand at my side, the once frightened dogs now snarling with renewed bloodlust. None of them move, though. Not even the beast that’s taken hold of Clément’s mind still struggling to stay on its hind legs. They all wait, heavy clouds breaking free from their snouts.

They are waiting for you, young Vostik. It’s time to do what you were born to do. Lead them.

A low growl rattles my chest. They’re going to learn why you never back a wolf in a corner. If there is a way to kill these things, I’m going to find it. One fucking soulless at a time.

FORTY-SEVEN

DIMITRI

“Punch it!” I shout and brace for impact as we barrel towards the front of the compound. The truck engine roars. The RPM gauge redlines. And Alexey, much to my annoyance, screams with excitement at a higher pitch than I thought possible.