Lupine [Moon Child Series Book 2]

by Candy Nicks

  "Yes,” she said, and touched her palms to his cheeks. “I want nothing more than this.” Kissing him, she raised her hips to meet his rigid cock and took him inside. There was power in giving as well as taking. In holding on tight, and in letting go.

  He took her with slow strokes, drawing out the pleasure for both of them. Confident and sure, while she still grappled with the awe and wonder of being so connected with the man she loved.

  "I have faith in you,” she whispered, when they were once more sated and complete. Stroking his hair, his long, smooth back, she asked, “You know where the Soul Cleansers are?"

  "Beyond the Great Fire."

  "The Great Fire? Where is it if not the volcano at Transivar?"

  Finn tapped his head and then his heart. “It's in here, and here. I think.” He shrugged. “Both literal and a metaphor. I have to prove the honour of the Lupines is worth saving, and in doing so, I must walk through fire."

  A terrible vision of Finn throwing himself into a burning pit made her mouth a silent oath and clutch at him in desperation.

  "She certainly doesn't believe in making things easy for you. So what? You've walked through the metaphorical fire, and now you have to go find the real one?"

  "Something like that. I also have to deal with my father."

  "You're going to forgive him?” Naima made no attempt to hide her anger. “How can you? How do you know he won't try to kill you again?"

  "Somehow I need to wipe the slate clean. Earn the Goddess's protection.” He plucked a leaf from her hip and flicked it aside. “Smile for me, Naima. I can feel your anger. I can also feel your strength, and I need that.” Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around his knees and stared blankly into the trees.

  "Carine told me to set off with nothing. If I can do that, and trust the Goddess will provide, there's hope."

  A tight lump formed in her throat. Not of pity. Pride, she realised with surprise. Kneeling, she wrapped her arms around his back and leaned her cheek upon the top of his head.

  "If anyone can get up while they're down, it will be you. Let me see it, Finn. Show me the fire."

  "I have a picture in my head,” he said hesitantly. “Or rather, the wolf does. A sacred circle of fire. A Lupine in the centre, arms spread out like a sacrifice. I have to go, knowing my fate. Put myself into the hands of the Goddess, and trust she'll give me back to you.” His laugh was brittle and short. “We'd best say our goodbyes, just in case."

  "No,” she said fiercely. “No goodbyes. You are coming back. I have no doubts."

  "None at all?"

  "You wanted my strength? You have it. You will return. We'll have a life together. I recognise your worth, even if She above doesn't. Let me come with you and I'll walk into fire too. Together, we'll show her we're not afraid."

  A faint rumble of thunder filtered through the canopy of branches and leaves. “I'm not afraid,” Naima repeated with conviction. She tilted back her head. “Rumble all you like. You don't scare me."

  Finn groped for her hand and patted it. “She's smiling on you. Somehow, I've managed to prove myself worthy of love. It's another step in the right direction. Find me some clothes while I visit my dear father."

  Naima stood and brushed the clinging leaves from her pants and shirt. She donned them, her movements choppy and angry. “She'll have to work hard to earn my trust. I'll be right back."

  The thunder rumbled overhead as she made her way to the infirmary store-room, each stride making her more determined to fight for a future with Finn. Not much remained in the way of practical clothing and, as she sorted through the mish-mash of hand-me downs, she remembered the sleek beauty of the wolf. Self-sufficient and contained, it lived in harmony with the world and relied on nature to provide for all its needs. Finn's wolf had looked utterly content lying on the grass, surveying the foolish mortals in the valley below. To be able to live so simply and so freely. Unburdened by material goods. She shook her head. It wasn't in man's nature to be content with enough; they always wanted more.

  Take me instead. The thought formed in her head with a conviction that froze her in place.

  "Give Finn a life,” she murmured, “Let me sacrifice myself in the fire."

  "I'm not scared,” she said aloud. “You want proof of his worth? Well, here I am.” She spread her arms wide, face raised to the ceiling. “Someone who loves him so much I'd gladly give my life for him. I'll jump in smiling if you just let him have his life."

  You would give up your own life for his?

  Naima nearly left her own skin, so violently did she jump at the sound of the Goddess's voice in her head. When she looked at her hands, they trembled violently. Anger or fear? Quite possibly both.

  "You tell me,” she replied. “Don't you see all?"

  Anyone can speak the words.

  "Test me. Let me prove my love for him."

  Soft laughter echoed about the room. You would jump willingly into a fire that would melt the flesh from your bones in a single heartbeat?

  "Yes.” Naima's chest heaved with the effort of breathing.

  We shall see.

  The laughter faded away leaving Naima, trembling and fighting for breath. Every scrap of doubt had gone now. A quiet calm rapidly replacing the hysteria. She rubbed her face and picked out a worn but serviceable shirt. A pair of tan workmen's pants. Now she knew what Finn was fighting.

  The trembling subsided and her heart stopped attempting to beat its way out of her chest. She stepped out into a world no longer bounded by the walls of the Settlement, feeling liberated and free. Wherever destiny led, she would follow. Whatever it asked of her, she would do. The knot of fear dissolved, leaving her light-headed and feeling as if she could lie on the breeze and simply float away.

  "Test me,” she muttered to the Goddess. “Do your worst. I'm ready for you."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 16

  The wolf stared through the glass pane. How easily fragile human flesh withered and faded. It nosed open the window to leap into the room. The figure on the bed turned a weary head.

  "I suppose you've come to finish me off?” The man's eyes glittered like polished bronze. “Make it quick. This already hurts like the devil itself."

  "I should be glad.” Finn pushed back the wolf, snatched a blanket from the bed and wound it around his shoulders like a cloak. “I should have killed you."

  "Just get on with it,” the injured man snapped. “Why is it bothering you so much?"

  "You're my father.” Finn turned away from the bed, fists clenched. Words, that so desperately needing saying, stuck in his throat. “I haven't come here to kill you."

  Tension turned to relief. The injured man blew out a heavy breath. “Would it be hypocritical of me to say I'm sorry? I want to try and make it right between us."

  "Yes.” Finn rounded on him, amber eyes blazing. His wolf flashed in and out. Finn bent to grope for the blanket, which had fallen to the floor. “Easy to feel forgiveness when you're so vulnerable and you want something. Let me hear it when you're whole again, standing in front of me with a blast-gun in your hands. When I'm completely in your power. That's when you prove how sorry you are."

  "Son, listen to me. No, don't turn your back again. Really listen to me."

  "All right. I'm listening."

  "I can't atone for the things I've done. If I spent the rest of my life trying to put things right between us, it wouldn't be enough. All I can do is say the words and hope you'll hear them."

  Finn paced the room restlessly, one ear on his father's deep voice, the other listening to the voice in his head. Somehow, he wasn't getting this right, and he didn't know why. It should have been a simple matter of saying the words, but every time he looked at his father, the wolf wanted to tear him limb from limb. So much for forgiveness.

  "The words I hear are empty. Devoid of meaning.” Finn's wolfish gaze alighted on a pair of shears lying on a side-table. “Hold those to my throat, and tell me you're sorry. Woul
d you be able to resist killing me?"

  "Son. It works both ways. If you want true peace of mind, you have to forgive me first. Before you realise how sorry I am. Forgive me without reservation. Do it now."

  "Hell, this is hard."

  "Would you have killed me? Back then?"

  It struck Finn that the question had become largely irrelevant. “What does it matter if we wanted to kill each other? Why do you think we never succeeded? Nothing happens unless She wills it.” He groped for the edge of the bed, not trusting his wolf to see for him. It remembered every taunt with perfect clarity. The grim satisfaction of revenge.

  Sitting on the edge, near to his father's feet, he said, “She told me you'd had your chance. You failed her."

  "It was to be a new beginning. The start of the great return. Ahh, Son. I messed up and chose material wealth over my immortal soul and the glory of our race."

  "Why didn't She help me? Why make me pay for your sins?"

  "She doesn't forgive easily."

  "Tell me where my mother is.” Fin surprised himself with the question. His mother was no more than a ghost. A fantasy created to ease the loneliness of a child. She'd never been flesh to him.

  "Dead, Son.” His father's voice held something more than bitterness. Regret, perhaps? “Do you think she would have let this happen to you? Lost the will to live, when we told her you'd died. Childbed fever took her soon after."

  "And if she'd lived?"

  "Don't go there, son. Let the dead rest in peace."

  Forgiveness—a relentless struggle up a slippery slope. For a long while they sat in silence, Finn's mind cycling through the events of his life while at the same time he fought desperately to get himself to a place where he could at least say the words. Only a saint would willingly give absolution to the man who'd blighted his life.

  You can do it, son. You're the better person. Pass me those shears and I'll prove it to you.

  Why? I thought you said I needed to forgive you first.

  Just get them.

  Finn orientated himself, feeling for the table and the cold metal of the shears. When he handed them over, his father's fingers brushed his and lingered a little too long for comfort. Finn shook him off and retreated, suspiciously to the end of the bed. When his father pounced, he'd be ready. He shook his head in disbelief. What would this achieve, except stalemate?

  "She wants reparation, son. So here it is. This is all I have to offer, and I give it freely."

  "No!” The shears clattered and skidded across the floor and Finn was left, half lying across the bed, his father's wrist firmly grasped in his fist. A thin wet trickle of blood ran from the shallow cut on the older man's arm onto Finn's fingers.

  Evidence of his father's despair or his guile? Only the Goddess knew whether he'd intended real harm to himself.

  Finn flung his father's wrist down in disgust and wiped his sticky fingers on the bedclothes. Refusing to look at the man, he turned away and wrapped himself in the blanket. His father's groans of pain filled the room, drowning out Finn's own laboured breathing.

  "Father, I forgive you.” He tested the words on his tongue, saying them more to himself than to the man lying hopeful on the bed. Keeping his wolf firmly at bay, he turned and faced his father. “I forgive you. It's not as easy as I thought. Maybe one day I'll feel it too."

  "It's good to hear the words, son. They make me sorrier than you'll ever know for the way I treated you."

  "No.” Holding up his hands, Finn backed away. “I don't want anything from you. It's not a trade."

  "Have it your way. But let me help you. You need to find the Great Fire, right?"

  "None of your business. Don't kid yourself this is the start of some cosy father—son relationship. If I tell Ancel you stabbed his wife, you'll never leave this Settlement alive. No,” he said, reading his father's panic. “I won't tell. Come on, you were setting me up. How far can I trust you? You'll send me on some fool's errand to some mythical fire and then come after me? You say you're sorry, but the stuff in your head tells me otherwise."

  "I'm confused? Dead right I am. Look inside your own head, Finn. Tell me you wouldn't just as soon come after me and quietly remove me from this world after all."

  Finn tensed at the confrontation in his father's tone. “I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder wondering when you'll turn up."

  "I promise you won't have to. Listen to me. Only the chosen can conjure the Circle of Fire. Believe me, I've tried it and got nothing but ash and dust. Once you've found the sacred place you have to give yourself to it body and soul. If you go in with those murders on your soul, the Fire will kill you, and you'll wake up in the Pit. Are you hearing this?"

  He was trying not to, but his father's words had trapped him in place. Unable to move, he listened with grim fascination to the manner of his probable death.

  "Carine's taken my sins,” Finn said quietly.

  His father gave a low whistle. “You lucky bastard. Why are you still here? Bugger off and put as much distance between her and you as possible. You don't owe her anything."

  "You'll never get it, will you? It's not about her. It's about me and the Lupines. Besides...” Finn stopped and contemplated his next words carefully. “Unlike you, she's worth saving."

  "Touché, son.” His father chuckled and slapped the bed with the flat of his hand. “Do you know how valuable the Stones will be once you have them in your hand? What a temptation? Think of the wealth. You can marry your girl and live a life of luxury off the back of them."

  Finn listened impassively to his father's persuasive words. He kept listening, wondering when he would feel something. Rage? Curiosity?

  Nothing. The words flowed over and around him without touching any part of him.

  "Zenar palatin dineara. When you find the place, you must make the incantation."

  "Goodbye, Father. I don't think we'll meet again."

  "You'll need a sacrifice. The Goddess likes a sacrifice."

  The wolf regarded the man he should call Father with solemn, amber eyes. Years of bloodlust for this man had distilled into this one, final moment of decision. In its head, the Goddess's voice spoke with clear, sure tones.

  The choice is yours, beloved. You have earned the right of retribution without stain on your soul. I will not stop you.

  Thank you, the wolf replied and paused for a brief moment. I have made my choice. Shaking its head, it turned and leaped through the open window.

  * * * *

  Finn looked so normal in the old work-clothes. The plain white shirt and threadbare pants, holed at the knees and held up by a knotted leather strap, gave him the appearance of a farmer who'd spent the day toiling in the fields, or a stone-mason taking a break from hauling rocks to be shaped to fit the new wall. Naima kept watch while he donned them, studying his face closely for clues to the meeting with his father.

  "Well,” she said, concerned by his silence. “How did it go?"

  "Hard to tell. I said the words, and I suppose I'll mean them one day."

  "Don't expect too much. Perhaps in time he will come around."

  "I never want to see him again.” Finn crouched and fumbled for the leather boot-laces, tying them with jerky movements of his hands. “He had the chance to do things differently. He chose not to."

  His wolf had bounded from the window, confident and full of life, the energy at the expense of the man.

  "Come back to the hut and we'll talk,” she said. “I want to do something and I need your approval."

  "You're going to tell your father what I am?"

  "Yes. I'm not ashamed. We need him on our side. I also think I should tell him about Carine. Come on, the coast is clear."

  They ran the short distance to the hut, anxious Finn should not be seen without his eye-shades.

  "We need to start telling people the truth,” Naima said when they were safely back in their sanctuary. She poured out a mug of water from a jug and handed it to him. �
�I don't want you to live your life in hiding. Although it won't all be plain sailing, the people of the Settlements are more accepting. We could have a good life here."

  Was he listening? She took the mug from him and set it down. I'm running too fast, she thought and sat on the bed beside him. Sliding an arm about his back, she held him.

  "Tell me how it went,” she said. “Was his remorse real?"

  "I think so, in a way. But when he started talking about the Soul Cleansing Stones, I knew I'd never be able to trust him. If I go for the Stones I need to be sure he hasn't followed me. He knows their potential, and he's already sought them and failed. I could tell by the tone of his voice what a temptation they are to him."

  "All the more reason to tell Father everything. He'll make sure your father stays restrained until you return."

  Finn's mouth flattened and his shoulders slumped with fatigue. He gave a grunt of laughter.

  "Have you any idea how much people will pay for a soul cleansing? He used to get me to touch stones for the poor gullible sods who thought they were the real thing. I wish it were that simple. No, he won't rest if he knows the Stones are free. If I do find them, I'm going to throw them back once Carine has used them. If I don't burn to a crisp in the Fire."

  Naima stroked his hair and hid her face from him. If acceptance and trust were the keys to surviving this, then she would forbear. Hysteria, no matter how much she wanted to embrace it, would be no use to Finn.

  "Are you any nearer to knowing where the Fire is? You said your father went after them."

  "He gave me an incantation and said it was a sacred place. He also mentioned a sacrifice.” Finn smiled grimly. “Isn't there always a sacrifice?” he said in a throwaway tone.

  "Hell, I can see why the Goddess wanted the Stones destroyed. Can you imagine a mankind with no moral conscience? A world-full of people who could do anything they chose, safe in the knowledge that their place in Paradise was assured. Those Stones must never again be released into the world, Naima."

  Naima shivered at the thought. “The Goddess chose well in you,” she told Finn with pride in her voice. “We already have Brynn with us and if I tell Father the whole story, he'll want to come, too."