Tears of the Moon

by Quinn Loftis

  Zara’s trembling began to slow. A faint hope began to blossom in her heart.

  “And I promise you this as well. It doesn’t matter what the answer is, I will still love you with everything I have. I don’t care if you have the blood of a thousand vampires or witches or trolls or ogres flowing through your veins, my love. You are mine and I am yours. Nothing, nothing, will ever change that.”

  It wasn’t what Zara had been hoping to hear. She’d wanted to hear Wadim say she was just being silly, that nothing like that could ever happen, but she was glad he didn’t tell her a lie just to placate her. Finally, her breathing slowed and the shaking began to stop. She collapsed back into Wadim’s embrace. He held her gently. After some time, he spoke again.

  “Have you ever considered talking to someone about what happened to you, Z?” he asked softly as he ran his hands gently across her arm. “Your mind and your body have experienced extreme trauma. I don’t say that to make you feel weak,” he said quickly. She could tell he noticed her sudden stiff demeanor. “I’m just stating facts. I want you to be whole. I want you to be happy and healthy. I’ll do anything to make that happen.”

  She looked down at her hands, her fingers clasping and unclasping as she considered her next words. “I don’t like remembering. I just want it to be gone, to be over.”

  “Sometimes in order for a wound to heal, you have to reopen it and remove the infection. You can’t ignore that it happened. You have to deal with it.”

  She nodded, even though she wanted to stomp her foot like a five-year-old and tell him no. Zara hated to admit it, but Wadim was right. She needed to deal with her past.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted after several minutes of silence. She was learning that Wadim was completely comfortable with silence. Despite his quick wit and sharp tongue, he had no need to fill the air with unnecessary words. He was comfortable in his own skin and comfortable with her.

  “I know,” he said as he gently ran his hand down her hair. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you ever again.”

  She leaned into his touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in a kind, caring way and, though she feared it, she also craved it. And as much as she craved that touch, she also craved the safety he promised. But despite the good intentions behind his words, that’s all they were. He couldn’t keep her safe from the memories or scars that marred her body. He couldn’t fight monsters that lingered in the form of ghosts that attacked her when she least expected it.

  “How can you say that? I’m sure my parents promised me the same thing, and look at them now.”

  “Maybe I cannot protect you from the hurts you’ve already experienced,” he said, picking up on her concerns—apparently, she didn’t have as tight a hold on the bond as she’d thought she did—“but I can help you as you deal with them yourself. I can be by your side every step of the way.”

  Zara had been careful to keep the new bond between them closed when the memories overtook her or the pain became too much, and Wadim had been incredibly understanding about it. He said he could understand her not wanting someone else invading her body after what she’d been through. But that wasn’t the reason she kept the bond closed. She didn’t want him in her mind because she didn’t want him to feel the shame she was drowning in. She didn’t want him to see how she saw herself. She didn’t want him to know she wished the vampires would have just drained her like they had so many of their other captives. Zara didn’t want him to realize he’d been given such an unworthy mate.

  “Hey,” his voice coaxed her out of her mind. “Do you want to go on a walk? Maybe get some fresh air? I know it’s late, but perhaps a walk will help us unwind.”

  “Sure,” she said, but it wasn’t what she really wanted. Instead, she wanted to knock herself unconscious somehow and slip into the silent darkness and stay there. She let him pull her to her feet and thread his fingers through hers. Part of her loved his touch, loved that he gave it so freely and with such tenderness. But part of her loathed it because she couldn’t understand how he could possibly want to touch her. He’d seen a glimpse of what had been done to her, how her body had been violated. How could he possibly still see her as desirable?

  He led her up the stairs from the vault of history to where he made his home. They emerged into a hallway of the Romania pack mansion. The house was huge. She’d walked around some, but she still hadn’t seen the entire thing.

  They didn’t pass anyone on their way to the front doors, which sort of surprised her. Despite the late hour, there always seemed to be at least a few people up and about in the mansion.

  “It’s quiet,” she murmured, feeling she shouldn’t speak too loudly.

  Wadim nodded. “Yeah, it almost feels like the calm before the storm. Vasile mentioned to me tonight that he is expecting Skender, one of our male wolves who has been looking for his mate in the U.S., to arrive any day now. The storm that’s coming is named Costin. He will most likely kill Skender once he finds out what Skender knows.”

  “What?”

  Wadim blanched as he looked her. She knew he must see horror on her face.

  “Crap, I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I shouldn’t talk about killing another person so casually. I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t be alarmed. We are nothing like the vampires. We do not kill for sport. But, occasionally, unfortunate things happen when members of the pack betray one another. As you know, male Canis lupus are very, very protective of their mates. According to Vasile, Skender was aware of what happened to Sally, and yet he did not call his Alpha and inform him. It’s a betrayal of his pack that cannot be forgiven. His actions are a death sentence. The punishment will be carried out by the one affected most by his betrayal. Don’t mention any of this to Jen, Jacque, or Sally. I don’t know how much they know about Skender, if anything, and the situation must be handled delicately. They are good girls but they, too, are still relatively new to our pack. Sometimes, well-meaning though they might be, they exacerbate problems instead of helping matters.”

  “Speaking of Sally,” Zara said, hoping not to return to the topic of her own issues, “how is she doing?”

  “I’ve only seen her a couple of times since they got back, but it seems like the visit to her home was good for her.”

  Zara’s heart clenched tightly in her chest. She had no home to go back to.

  Wadim stopped and gently lifted her chin. “I may not be able to see into your mind, beautiful, but I’m perfectly capable of reading your face. Your pain is like a physical ache in me. I would do anything to remove it. Remember this, I’m your home now. I’m your safe place.”

  Zara nodded but didn’t speak. There were no words she could offer. He was her home. Even if she didn’t deserve him and wasn’t worthy of him, he was all she had.

  They continued and as Wadim pulled open the large front door, she took a deep breath of the clean, mountain air. It was summer, and the air was warm in her lungs. The evening sun had surrendered her sky to the moon hours ago, and all of nature seemed to be asleep under the vast canopy of stars. “You can phase if you want,” she told him. His eyes were glowing again, and she could see the eagerness in his body.

  “I won’t be able to talk to you.”

  She knew he was referring to their bond, and it made her feel guilty. Still, she wasn’t willing to open it, knowing what he would see inside of her. He continued to hold her hand as they walked out onto the front lawn, past the driveway, and off into the woods where the pack liked to roam.

  “What was your last name?” Wadim asked.

  It wasn’t a strange question, really. But Zara knew there was more to the question than a simple curiosity about her previous life. Wadim was the pack historian. She’d noticed he had a habit of seeking out information he would eventually store in the archives. This tendency bled over into their relationship. It felt slightly invasive, but he always backed off when she needed him to.

  “I know you said you don’t w
ant to use it anymore,” he added. “But it’s a part of who you were, and I want all of you.”

  “Possessive much?” she teased.

  “Very,” he answered, and his voice rumbled with his wolf.

  “Myers,” Zara said. “My last name was Myers. My parents were Summer and Zach Myers.”

  He smiled. “Fitting that a woman named Summer would give her offspring a name like Zara. Beautiful and unusual, just like her.”

  “You’re a little biased.”

  “Because I’m your true mate?” he asked. “Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But I’m also male, and I’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful you are. And deaf and dumb not to hear your sweet, genuine voice and know that you have a kind, giving spirit.”

  What was she supposed to say to that? Thanks? You’re welcome? That would have been a Jen answer. But what was a Zara answer? To tuck her tail and run, yes, that seemed more up her alley. But he was a predator, so if she ran, he would simply chase her. And she had a feeling she’d tire out way before he did.

  “My beautiful mate, you’ll learn to take my compliments. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” He squeezed her hand and then ran his thumb across the palm of the hand he was holding. His touch did strange things to her, and by the grin on his face, he knew it.

  They walked in companionable silence for over half an hour, and by the time they returned to the mansion, Zara was finally beginning to feel tired. She tilted her head back and stared up at the dark night sky and wondered how it could be so beautiful and so scary at the same time. There was a time when she wasn’t afraid of the dark. She hadn’t believed in monsters and thought she was untouchable in the safe bubble of her middle-class home. She’d been so very wrong.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Wadim said as he led her up the steps to the front door. “Do you mind heading down to our place? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Sure,” Zara said.

  “Good.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead. They parted ways once inside the foyer. The mansion was silent as she walked and the lack of noise felt ominous. Everyone else was, no doubt, tucked safely away in their beds, their bodies getting the rest they needed, the rest that her own body denied her. If she didn’t get some sleep tonight, Zara wouldn’t be up to making an appearance in the mansion tomorrow. She hadn’t been out of the archives in two days. She knew if she didn’t show her face above ground soon, Jen would eventually pay her a visit. Zara didn’t want that. An uninvited visit from Jen was kind of like eating a suspect burrito. At first, it seems okay, but then, fifteen minutes later, you’re in agony in the bathroom. She didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jen’s “love.” At least that’s what the blonde claimed it was when she bombarded people to death. And Zara didn’t want to face the others either. She may be able to hide things from Wadim, but she had a feeling Alina and Vasile would see right through her. They would pick up on the sheer terror in her eyes of not knowing what her future held.

  Zara had been sitting at the table in the main room of the archives for less than five minutes when she heard the door at the top of the stairs open and then footsteps descending

  Wadim appeared at the bottom of the stairs and the flirty smile she’d grown to love was titled up on his face, and his eyes danced with mischief as he took the seat beside her and then reached out his hand. Zara took the outstretched hand and let him pull her out of her chair and into his lap. It was his standard practice. Wadim seemed to think that his lap was the only place worthy of her derrière … his words.

  Zara leaned her body into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. “Where’s my surprise?”

  Without answering, he held out his other hand, which had been clenched into a fist, and slowly opened it one finger at a time.

  Zara’s breath caught as she stared at the small carved figure attached to a delicate necklace. “A moon?” she asked.

  Wadim nodded.

  “Did you carve this?”

  He nodded again. “It’s carved from a piece of Birch tree. As you know”—he grinned at her and winked—“I have a little bit of love for history, and not just for that of the supernaturals. I enjoy history in general. Native American history is especially interesting to me. They believe trees have different meanings, and a Birch tree symbolizes new beginnings and a cleansing of the past.”

  “So why the moon?” Zara asked.

  “It represents our Creator. I made this for you to wear as a reminder that you’ve been given a new beginning by The Great Luna. She didn’t forget you. And though your past will definitely shape how you move forward, it does not define you or the future you will have. You have a new beginning, with me, with our pack.” He leaned back and moved her hair over her shoulder. Zara lifted her hair a bit so that he could place the necklace around her neck and connect the clasp.

  “Thank you,” she said as she turned to look at him. “I love it.” She didn’t know what else to say. It had been so long since anyone had given her anything, and she felt a little out of sorts.

  Wadim pressed his lips to hers for several seconds and then slowly separated them as he pulled back. “You are most welcome. Are you ready to try and get some rest?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Because I have it on good authority that you will be having a visitor tomorrow who is willing to drag you by your gorgeous hair from the dungeon if she has to.”

  “Let me guess,” Zara said. “Jen?”

  Wadim nodded.

  “And who was the good authority from?”

  Wadim chuckled. “Jen.”

  “Of course.”

  Chapter Seven

  “When we can no longer trust our friends, our family, our pack, who then can we trust?” ~Decebel

  * * *

  Decebel stood outside at the bottom of the mansion’s front steps. He stared down the long concrete driveway that wound through a manicured lawn across the front of the estate. He heard the approaching vehicle long before he saw it. A black SUV drove toward the house, pulling slowly into the circle drive before coming to a stop. The man behind the steering wheel let the engine idle as he stared through the windshield at Decebel. A woman with dark, shoulder-length hair and a frown plastered on her face sat in the passenger seat. The so-called mate. The pseudo-Alpha bit back a growl as his wolf pushed forward to assert its dominance over the pair. It didn’t happen instantly. Skender was a powerful wolf. Finally, the driver dropped his eyes but made no move to exit the vehicle. The female hadn’t lasted as long as Skender and had dropped her eyes almost instantly. Decebel wondered how long they would sit there. Just when Decebel was getting ready to go and drag Skender out of the SUV, the door opened and the man stepped out. Skender glanced at the woman, and she, too, pushed her door open and climbed out of the vehicle.

  “Decebel,” the deep voice rumbled.

  “Skender,” Decebel said, watching the other wolf’s movements with keen, alert eyes. He knew they were glowing. Vasile had been right. There was certainly more to Skender’s story than the man let on. Decebel’s wolf could tell instantly. The beast was picking up something the man couldn’t put his finger on. The woman walked around the SUV to stand next to her mate, placing her hand in his. When Skender didn’t move away from the vehicle, Decebel spoke again. “Are you planning on standing there all day?”

  “That depends,” Skender answered. “Are we going to live if we step through those doors?” He pointed to the mansion behind Decebel.

  Decebel crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the brick post at the bottom of the stairs. “That depends,” he parroted, “on what you’ve done.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” Skender snarled.

  Decebel’s cool facade didn’t waver even as he felt his wolf’s hackles rising. “And maybe that’s what will get you killed. Sometimes, doing nothing is worse than doing the wrong thing.”

  “Fantastic,” Skender muttered under his breath.


  “The sooner you get inside and talk to your Alpha, the sooner we can figure out your fate,” Decebel said.

  After another couple of minutes of simply standing there, Skender finally pushed away from the vehicle. “Might as well get on with it,” he mumbled as he pulled his mate behind him and marched past Decebel. It did not go unnoticed by Decebel that Skender’s markings had changed and moved up his neck.

  “Skender is here, as well as his female. Distract Costin and Sally for a bit please.” Decebel reached out through the bond to his mate.

  “Can I come scratch his eyes out?” Jen growled.

  “When I explained this to you the other night, you asked the same question. My answer hasn’t changed,” he said, trying not to smile at his bloodthirsty mate’s words.

  She sighed in his mind. “You said Costin was the only one who would be allowed to touch him. And while I understand that, B, it doesn’t change the fact that Sally was mine first, long before she belonged to Costin. I feel like that means I have first maiming rights. Costin can have the leftovers.”

  “By that logic, if something were to happen to me, Fane or Costin would have first rights to avenge me before you. How would that make you feel?”

  Her growl in his mind was almost audible. “Stupid, logical male.”

  “I love you.”

  “Is that your polite way of telling me I’m not going to get my way?”

  “Exactly. Behave.” Decebel pulled out of her mind just as they reached Vasile’s office. When Skender started to knock, Decebel put a hand on the wolf’s shoulder, careful to keep his distance from the woman. “This isn’t our stop.” He pushed him forward, and they continued toward the basement door that led down to the holding cells.

  When they reached the door, Skender looked over at Decebel. “You’re confining us?”

  “Did you really expect anything different?” Decebel growled.

  “I did. I thought I was a member of this pack. I guess I was hoping Vasile would hear me out first,” he said, sounding put out.