House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1)

by L. S. Slayford

  Misty’s eyes widened to the point of pain at the mention of the handcuffs and her bottom lip trembled. Luna’s face furrowed in uncertainty as she glanced at Chase. “Silver stops us from changing and it burns. A lot,” he explained with a smirk in Misty’s direction.

  Luna cried out as Michael crumbled backwards onto the bed. Placing a pillow beneath his head, she struggled to swallow her heart back down. The wound on his neck started oozing crimson. “Michael, you need to go to the hospital,” she told him as his face contorted in pain. “You need help.”

  Michael shook his head and attempted the ghost of a reassuring smile. It didn’t work. “Not a chance. I’ll be fine after I’ve changed. My phone is on the side. Find Mike’s number and ring him.” His eyes pivoted in Chase’s direction and he drew in a ragged breath. “Then when he’s guarding Misty, you can explain to me why my baby sister smells of sex and you.”

  Eighteen

  Luna’s head swirled with one chaotic thought after the other. What she’d been through – finding the dagger, her brother’s injuries, even meeting others like Chase and Michael – it seemed unbelievable, even after everything.

  Her mind floated back to Misty’s house. Two men had arrived not long after, a burly older man named Mike and a younger, scrawny guy called Tim with brown hair and anger burning within his eyes. The jingle of the thick heavy silver handcuffs still rang within her ears. They’d resembled something out of a medieval torture book, but Mike had assured her they wouldn’t kill Misty. Just hurt and incapacitate her for the time being.

  But it’s not like I care if she died or not, Luna told herself. This woman had tried to kill her brother, for crying out loud. Every ounce of her being hated the bitch. Part of her wanted to beat her to death herself.

  Tim’s eyes had burned with the same longing – to tear her limb from limb. But not with Mike. His brown eyes radiated disappointment and a fierceness that made Luna shudder, yet he still exuded a sense of calm, of fairness. The voice of reason. He didn’t seem like anyone who would quickly give into rage. She could see why he’d been her parents’ best friend, and the man they’d named her brother after.

  Misty’s cries continued to echo within her head. As soon as the silver handcuffs had encased her wrists, the stretch of burning flesh wafted through the room. Tim had stuffed a rag in her mouth to stop the screams, but they still sang along every contour of her lovely face.

  Luna couldn’t help but wonder how much of the old legends were true or not. The only thing she could think of that could kill a werewolf were silver bullets. But after seeing Michael’s chest clawed into strips, she knew silver wasn’t the only way. Back in Misty’s house, the urge to try a few experiments on the female werewolf had been overwhelming; only Chase’s tight grip on her arm prevented her.

  She’d been so close to losing her brother. Two attacks in less than twenty-four hours, targeted by different people for different reasons. Coincidence, or not?

  The only comfort she could take was from the fact that her brother was still alive – just.

  Still, a sliver of pity for Misty weaved within her soul, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

  “You’ll kill me for what I did here tonight, but you won’t torture me like he will.”

  The wretched tone lacing Misty’s words shook her right to her heart, cracking through the layer of hatred which covered it. If what she said was true, then that meant this Russo person was someone whom they needed to be afraid of.

  If he could send one assassin after her family, what else could he do?

  And if he was the same man her parents had sent her abroad to escape from, did he know she’d returned?

  “Tell me what’s happened,” Michael ordered through clenched teeth from the backseat. Although the wounds had finally closed, his face remained pale. How much blood could a werewolf lose before they collapsed?

  She didn’t want to find out.

  Chase recounted the events. Luna told him what Pierre had said.

  “Oh, so you finally remembered your boyfriend then?”

  She stared out of the passenger-side window, shame covering her like a heavy blanket. Michael’s words stung. What happened with Chase hadn’t been planned. She still intended to tell Pierre, to come clean.

  “Michael,” Chase growled. “Leave it alone.”

  “Just remember who it is you’re talking to, man.”

  Chase locked gazes with him in the rear-view mirror. “Remind me. Am I talking to my friend or my alpha?”

  Expletives blistered the air as the car hit a pothole. Luna twisted in her seat, concern sweeping past the shame. Pain painted every line of Michael’s face. “Damn it, Chase, watch where you’re going.” Michael slumped further in his seat and exhaled. “Alright, we need a plan. What’ve we got?”

  “Lyulf can’t get the dagger. The magic inside it is strong. It’s too dangerous to let him get his hands on it,” Chase said, the solemnness in his tone mirroring the look in his eyes.

  “And we can’t run, either,” Luna continued on a sigh. “He’ll kill everyone in town until we give it to him.”

  “You sure about that?” Michael asked, his voice flat.

  A shiver snaked down Luna’s spine as she remembered what he’d told her. She had no doubt he would do exactly as he said he would. “Yes.”

  A weary breath shot from the backseat. “Fine. Running is out. Hiding the thing isn’t an option either.”

  Luna frowned. “What else is there?”

  “Take him out,” Chase told them as they turned a corner. Michael hissed.

  “How?” Luna asked, glancing over at Chase. “How does one get rid of a fae exactly?”

  Michael raised an amused brow. “How does one? Christ, you can tell who got the fancy education in our family,” he chuckled softly but the amusement faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Seriously, though, I’m not sure how you kill fae. Immortals tend to be pretty hard to kill. But if I was to guess, I’d suggest beheading or cutting out his heart just to make sure.”

  Luna reached up and began tugging at her hair, the annoying trait she reverted to whenever stress consumed her. Dealing with werewolf assassins and trying to figure out how to kill fae did tend to stress one out a little after all, she told herself. She pondered for a moment. “When I hit him with the tire iron, his skin burned. Would metal actually kill him?”

  “Cold iron is supposed to be a weakness of theirs,” Chase agreed, his eyes glancing over at hers. The seriousness within them died a little, warming as they locked with hers. Was that pride in his voice?

  Luna couldn’t help but give him a small smile. The right side of his mouth upturned into a devilish curve. The hairs on the back of her arm stood up, and heat slithered between her thighs. A cough from the back of the vehicle forced her to glance over her shoulder. Michael glared at the back of Chase’s head. Luna dropped her smile and turned her gaze back to the road in front of them.

  Somehow, she didn’t think he approved of his best friend sleeping with his sister.

  Luna heard the intake of breath. “We need to prepare ourselves. I don’t think Lyulf is going to wait until tomorrow to come take what he thinks is his.”

  “And if the bastard is hiding somewhere in the woods,” Chase said. “Then he knows we’ve found it. The entire place was lit up like the fourth of July.”

  Damn. She’d forgotten about that.

  Michael swore. “Great, just what we needed. OK, first things first. We need to contact the rest of the pack and get them out here. Mike and Tim are fine watching Misty, but we’ll need the rest to deal with Lyulf. When we get back to the house, find anything iron and arm yourselves with it.”

  “Do we hide the dagger so he can’t find it?” Luna asked. It might have been better if I had never found the bloody thing, she thought to herself. She doubted he’d have ever found it hidden beneath her mother’s roses.

  “You still got it, sis?” Michael asked. Luna nodded and started to reach for the
box beneath her seat, but Michael shook his head. “No, don’t. If it went up like a flare earlier on, don’t show me until we get back home. The last thing we need is another accident.”

  They spent the rest of the drive in thick, heavy silence that left Luna mentally exhausted. Her body screamed for rest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten properly. Whatever adrenaline coursed through her body a short time ago had now faded, leaving her limbs lined with lead. All she wanted was tea, food, a shower, and bed – and not necessarily in that order.

  She held no illusions that what she wanted wasn’t going to happen.

  Several minutes later, Chase pulled up to the front of the house, parking as close to the porch as possible. Luna and Chase ignored Michael’s feeble attempts to wave off their help and helped him up the stairs and into the house. The sheet wrapped around his lower body hid everything, thankfully, but a few times Michael had almost tripped on the edge. Luna wanted him to go straight to bed, but Chase led them into the kitchen.

  Instead of leading him upstairs to bed, Chase helped him into the kitchen. After sitting Michael in a chair, he headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a tray of fresh meat. Within minutes, the scent of sizzling steak permeated the air.

  Chase caught her frowning. “Protein helps speed up the healing process,” he explained, flipping the meat over.

  “And you have no issues with casual nudity either,” Luna remarked, her eyes darting between him and her brother. Blood stained Michael’s chest, but only thin white lines marked the edges of the wounds. By tomorrow, they’d be gone completely. No one would know.

  “With the amount of changing we do, you get used to it.”

  Luna reached for the first aid box, thankful that they’d not bothered to put it back from earlier. Crumpled wipes still remained on the table, the dried blood almost brown. Picking up the antiseptic wipes, she began cleaning the blood from her brother’s chest. Awe washed through her at werewolves healing abilities.

  A spark of jealousy flared within her gut as her knee throbbed, reminding of her own human weakness for pain. What she wouldn’t give for a little healing ability right about then.

  After a few minutes, Michael snatched the wipes out of Luna’s hand and finished the job himself. Only a few streaks of red stained his skin when Chase slid a plate of sizzling meat in front of him, already cut into thin strips. Chucking the wipes into the centre onto the table, Michael quickly dug into the meat.

  Chase placed a cup of tea on the table. The scent of bergamot filled Luna’s nostrils. Offering him a smile, Luna inhaled, the hot steam trailing down her throat. Tea down, shower and bed to go, but what are the odds of that happening?

  It didn’t take long for Michael to finish his food. Colour returned to his face, but exhaustion still painted his features. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Show me,” he said, his tone weary but determined. She recognised it all too well. Their father had used it far too many times on her in the past. He wouldn’t rest until he knew everything.

  “I’ll get it,” Chase said, resting a hand on Luna’s shoulders as she started to get up. She sank back into her chair, relieved she didn’t have to do anything right then. Fatigue lined every inch of her body.

  Chase quickly returned with the box and set in the centre of the table. In the artificial light that beamed straight down, the intricate carvings became easier to see despite clods of dirt encased in the edges. The key remained within the lock.

  Opening the box, Michael pulled back the velvet covering and released an appreciative sigh. Although the dagger still shone brilliantly, no pulse of light ripped through the house. To Luna’s eyes, the hilt seemed darker, as if it had been passed through a million hands, each time removing a layer of its luminous coat.

  Tracing a gentle finger around the delicate patterns adorning the hilt, Michael’s face transformed into an expression of wonder. “Such power,” he whispered thickly. “I can feel it. The power of our ancestors, the first werewolf. It’s in here.”

  Chase sat on an empty chair next to Luna, nodding. “I feel it, too.”

  A crease formed between Luna’s brows. “How can it hold power? I don’t understand.”

  Michael shrugged. “Legends say that when the gods gave the dagger to him, it was able to draw part of his power inside. They became two halves of a whole.”

  Luna glanced down at the dagger, confusion and awe swimming within her. The werewolf equivalent of Excalibur. It seemed strange to have something in front of her that could’ve actually been given by actual gods. All the little hairs on her arms stood to attention.

  Michael ran the tip of his finger along the blade. Something stirred on the air. Luna inhaled. All the breath in her body seemed to thicken instantly.

  A crash resonated through the room, sending Luna’s heart jumping into the back of her throat and panic surging down her spine in icy waves. All heads whipped towards the windows. Closed only seconds ago, they began banging violently against the wall, over and over until they suddenly froze in place. A gust of hot wind shrieked through the window, sending everyone’s hair and clothes flying in all directions.

  Tendrils of pale blonde hair blinded Luna. The sound of a chair scraping the kitchen floor filled her ears as she quickly pushed back her hair to see what was going on. Please, not more birds, she prayed. A split second later, Chase’s thigh pressed against her arm. He’d come to protect her, she realised.

  The wind kept coming, deep and heavy and hot. Then a scream reverberated through her head.

  Suddenly, as quick as it had come, the whirlwind died. A gentle breeze swirled through the room, a kiss of warm air.

  “Come to me,” a male voice called, a seductive whisper. “Bring me what is mine.”

  Shit. Luna recognised that voice. She glanced at the others, relieved to know they had heard it, too.

  “Lyulf,” Michael growled, the first flecks of amber dancing in his eyes.

  “Come to me,” the voice repeated.

  A knot of tension started in her stomach and climbed upward, threatening to choke her. She prayed Lyulf wasn’t nearby.

  They weren’t ready.

  She glanced up at Chase. The amber in his eyes had darkened, as if lighting had struck autumn leaves. His jawline hardened, and his mouth set into a grim, harsh line. At his sides, his hands balled into tight fists, his knuckles white.

  Luna’s eyes darted towards her brother. The faintest ring of gold encircled his blue eyes, indicating his own wolf wasn’t far away. A shiver coursed down her spine. He no longer had to hide what he was from her now. He remained seated, but his grip around the hilt was iron.

  “He’s not going to wait any longer,” Chase growled.

  “No, he’s here already. I can feel him on our land, right near the western creek. He’s heading our way,” Michael said, rage curling his upper lip as his eyes darkened further to burnished gold. “This must be what Dad said about alphas being connected to their territory.”

  The caress of warm air dissipated and the frozen windows returned to their normal position. Luna sucked in a breath and tried to make sense of her brother’s words. “You can feel him?”

  Lines of concentration lined Michael’s face as he tilted his head to one side. “About twenty miles past the pond. He’s slowly making his way here.” He turned to Chase, his face deadly serious. “Call everyone and get their asses here. Warn them of what we’re up against.” He turned to Luna. “Find anything iron and keep it with you. I don’t care if it seems ridiculous, it could save your life.”

  Chase pulled out his phone, his fingers already dialling as he stepped out the kitchen and headed down the hall. Luna rose from her seat and scoured the kitchen for anything made of iron. A few minutes later, the only thing she found was an old skillet. Gazing at it in her hands she couldn’t help but mentally smack herself at just how cliché it seemed. What the hell am I meant to do with this – make him some scrambled eggs?

  Chase quic
kly reappeared, fixing her with a penetrative stare. In his hands, he held a tire iron. He handed it to her. The heavy weight of it offered more confidence than the old skillet. “Everyone’s on their way. Mike and Tim are staying with Misty but will be on the lookout in case Lyulf decides to pay them a visit first.”

  Michael pulled Luna to one side. Regret stained his eyes. “I wish I hadn’t brought you over, sis. Mom and Dad always told me it was far too dangerous for you to be here. They were right. Chase and I, we’re werewolves. We’re strong. We can take the damage. But you, you’re human.” The hint of tears shone in his eyes, making them as bright as polished jewels. “I’ve already lost Mom and Dad. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, careful of his closing wounds. “Je t’aime trop, frère.” I love you, too, brother. “And despite everything, I’m not sorry for coming here.”

  Sighing, Michael pulled away and placed the dagger in the box but didn’t close it. He set the key on the table beside it. “Listen, the pack is on their way and it will be better for everyone if they stay in wolf form. I don’t want you to be scared of them. They won’t hurt you, even if they do look intimidating.”

  Luna shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Chase has already shown me his wolf. I know what to expect.”

  His body stilled, and an unreadable expression settled over his face. “Chase has showed you too much of himself,” he muttered. Biting her lip, Luna blushed and looked away. “Anyway, if I change, then I won’t be able to hold onto the knife. You’d better take it. If anything happens to us, I want you to run and find somewhere safe.”

  Luna snorted before she could stop herself. “Like where?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael sighed. “But take the car and keep running. No arguments.”