Moon Cursed (Sky Brooks Series Book 5)

by McKenzie Hunter

  The idea of tricking people bothered me to my core, but Logan’s obsession with Chris bothered me even more. Of all the deals he could have made and all the things he could have bargained for, why her? He had the ability to change his appearance and appeal to any woman he would like, but he wanted her. Was it because, no matter what face he chose, Chris knew the monster behind the glamours and wanted nothing to do with it? Once, he’d taken on an appearance similar to Ethan’s, one that she had rejected. I suspected in doing so, she had become his most desired prize—a forbidden fruit he was determined to get.

  The most disturbing thing about him was his warped obsession with and appreciation for pain. I couldn’t even imagine how he’d combine that with his possession of Chris, who had on multiple occasions said she dealt with pain well. She prided herself on her ability to do it; I considered it the result of a very troubled past.

  Ethan had moved so far into the bosky area that I couldn’t see him anymore. Most of my neighbors, the few that I had, didn’t bother to come in my direction. David was the only one who did, and he knew what we all were. He attempted to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was, and his performance of trying to downplay how disturbed he was by it was fair at best. I didn’t blame him if he showed how freaked out he was about it every time he saw me. He had every right to be. He’d been introduced to a world that was darker and deadlier than the one he knew—quite a lot to deal with. I had effectively become the weird woman in the neighborhood. Even the moms and their teen daughters who were too friendly and always had some form of food to bring over as an excuse to see Steven no longer came around, as he’d moved out.

  The sharp pang still existed each time I thought about him being gone. He was the brother I’d never had, the confidant I needed, and the person I felt the most comfortable with. Even Josh, whom I considered my closest friend, didn’t bring me that level of comfort. Was Ethan supposed to fulfill that role? We’d only been together for a few days and we were still getting used to each other. Anyway, the last thoughts I wanted to have about Ethan were brotherly ones. How could mercurial, abrasive, domineering Ethan ever fill Steven’s role? I laughed inwardly: how in the world did I end up with a person like Ethan?

  But Ethan hadn’t become that way overnight. He’d been that way from the first time I’d met him, so I couldn’t feign surprise—he was the exact same way he was from day one, with very little deviation from it.

  I took another look outside; I didn’t see Ethan. I grabbed my tablet and headed out the back door. I needed the fresh air, and I wanted to be there when Ethan finally emerged from the woods. As I moved deeper into the woodland, I closed my eyes, inhaling the crisp air fragranced by strong scents of oak and pine. It bathed my senses and was calming. The woods had become a very comforting thing to me, and at times so had my wolf.

  I breathed in again before accepting the other waves of sensation that rolled over me. That odd tug, a pull that seemed to mysteriously guide me to Ethan. It had been that way since we’d performed a very strong and dangerous spell to remove the dark elf magic he’d inherited from his grandmother. It had left us with an odd connection. I ignored the fact that both of us were connected to death and darkness in a very strange way; that portentous energy might be the very thing that was the source of our mystical link. Diablerie—it was essentially what Ethan and I were. It had been given a medley of unique and beautiful names, but what it boiled down to was we were dark magic and death intertwined and interlinked.

  Ethan stopped running once he sensed me, smelled me, or did whatever he seemed to do to always be able to find me. His ability to locate me predated the magic we’d shared and was something I’d always wondered about. He turned and trotted back in my direction. When he was close enough, he bumped his nose lightly into my hip—or rather my lower side. He was a massive wolf. I looked around again for neighbors. Anyone seeing a wolf would be alarmed—one that size would definitely frighten them.

  He lowered his head and grabbed my pants and tugged at them. “I don’t want to change.”

  Pulling back his lips, he snarled.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re scary. Vicious. Terrifying. Carry on.” I waved my hand toward the woods before taking a seat next to a tree and powering on my tablet. I had just started reading a book on it when Ethan bumped my leg with his head.

  “I said no. Ethan, I don’t want to change. I need to stay like this.” And I did. Right now I didn’t need the comfort of my wolf, I needed things to be intense and scary. Intense and scary made me think. I wanted my body to react to being in a state of high alert because I needed to figure out how to get out of this mess. My wolf was an escape—I didn’t want to escape now.

  He growled.

  “Eek. Now you’re super scary.” I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. He nudged the tablet and knocked it to the ground before turning and trotting away. “Real mature. Bad wolf!” I shouted. Yelling might have eased some of my frustration, but it was pointless. It was Ethan—if I’d whispered it while sirens blared in the background, he would have heard it.

  Forty-five minutes later, a naked Ethan emerged from the thicket. I stood and watched, waiting for his tense frown to relax, the menacing furrow of his brow to disappear, or the anger radiating off him to ease. It was no different than it had been in the car. Nothing had eased. The frown and anger had claimed his features and everything about him was coiled. I inhaled the fragrant oak and pine scented air again, trying to find the same comfort that it had brought before. It wasn’t as soothing now, tainted by the primal force that was Ethan.

  As he approached, I was reminded of the symbiotic relationship he had with his wolf. Often he gave into the primordial allure of the animal and seemed more wolf than man. The gray danced over his eyes and he stopped walking, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he opened them, there wasn’t much that had changed. Inches from me, he kept stepping forward, putting his hand on my waist as he walked me back until I was pressed firmly into the tree. The ragged edges of the bark pricked into my skin.

  He remained silent, appraising me for a long time before he buried his head in the curve of my neck. My fingers stroked through his hair as his face moved to mine and he kissed me, gently at first and then more fervently. When he pulled away, I tried to decipher the look on his face, but there wasn’t anything readable. Ethan always had difficulty controlling his emotions, but this time they were particularly unconstrained, turbulent and poorly controlled, and he was struggling. He rested his face in the curve of my neck again and inhaled my scent before burying his face in even closer. After a few minutes, he kissed me tentatively on the neck. He brushed light kisses on my cheek and journeyed over my jawline until he met my lips. He crushed his into mine as though he was seeking to expunge his emotions and seek some reprieve from them. He pulled away slightly, his tongue sliding over my lips, tasting them.

  “Don’t do anything like that again.”

  “Ethan,” I responded, letting my lips brush against his as I spoke, needing the connection because I felt like something was wrong. Things were off. I pressed the palm of my hand against his face, caressing it.

  He took both of my hands in his and cradled them against his chest. His gentle action was a direct contradiction to his strident voice. “No. There is nothing to discuss. Next time we are anywhere near Logan, you say nothing. You do nothing. You sit there with a smile and, if you need to, clamp your hands between your legs and don’t do a damn thing. I don’t care what you do, but you will remain silent.” And with that, he pushed from the tree, turned from me and headed toward the house. He grabbed his clothes and quickly put them on while I remained against the tree, unsure how to react.

  “Ethan.”

  He kept walking, his long stride increasing the distance between us. I yelled his name again and he ignored me and disappeared into the house. I should have waited longer before I followed him in. The inferno that had started in my chest was fighting to get out—anger running just a
s hot and volatile as his. The closer I got to the house, the fierier it became.

  “Wait a goddamn minute,” I barked as soon I entered the house. Ethan rested with his back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes narrowed and then settled on me.

  “I am not a child. You don’t just tell me to sit down and shut up. Today didn’t go as expected. I can’t change that. I was trying to fix the situation.”

  “But you didn’t fix it! Instead I watched you writhe on the ground for thirty-six minutes, trying to stay alive. No, Skylar, ‘sit down and shut up’ is exactly what you will do in any meetings dealing with Logan that you accompany us to. This is not a suggestion. It’s not up for discussion. It’s a command. As a member of the pack who is responsible for the safety of it, I have spoken. End of discussion.”

  I have spoken. Command. Rage pricked at my skin and started to unfurl into something that wasn’t going to end well. I made an attempt to calm it, taking several deep, cleansing breaths. But it was there, blazing and ready to find a target—Ethan. This was so far from the end of the discussion—it was the beginning of a fight ignited by our discord that was going to escalate to something as uncontrollable as a forest fire. Ethan had given himself over to anger, wearing his emotions so close to the surface he’d never had sufficient control over them, and I was sure he had the desire to keep it that way. The breaths I’d taken had done little to smother my anger. It rampaged through me, and if I didn’t get a handle on it, there wasn’t any way it was going to end in anything but a disaster. The fact that I wanted to punch him in the mouth was evidence of it.

  “Ethan.” My tone softened, a wispy sound. I stepped closer to him, and caressed his cheek with my hand. The heat of his anger radiated off him. He was in a bad place. Taking several steps back, I slowly removed my clothes. He didn’t look in my direction; his eyes focused on the wall across from him. I shifted to my wolf, moved toward him, and nudged his leg like he’d done mine earlier and then tugged on his pant leg. With a heavy sigh, he yanked off his clothes and I moved back, giving him room to shift. I padded back to the living room, which had a lot more open space than the kitchen, and lay in the middle of the floor. He hesitated before he moved, and then he approached slowly, each step measured and hesitant, losing the typical lithe, predaceous rhythm. Once he was within a few inches of me, he relaxed next to me. His heavy paw rested on me, and soon he’d moved until most of his body was over mine. He licked my face. Ugh, I hate when they do that. So gross. He made a noise and then did it again. I snuggled back into his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of it rising and falling against my back.

  I was the first to shift back into human, but I stayed on the floor next to the massive wolf until he was ready to shed his animal half. After a few more minutes, he did and rolled over on me. His tongue explored my mouth. Then his lips lazily coursed over mine and trailed down my body, gentle and languid. His tongue left light, warm trails over me. He nestled between my legs, nudging at my entrance. Then he waited to allow me to get used to him, and I widened my legs to accommodate him. In a slow, fluid movement, he connected, his movements gentle, somber, languid. My nails dug into his back. His rhythm increased; he moved more fervently, harder. His hips rolled against mine. Kisses came harder as the fingers of one hand entwined in my hair. His other hand curled around my thigh. His rhythm increased as he thrust harder; I clawed at his back, kissing him hungrily as we both found our pleasure. I clung to him for a few more minutes, needing to remain connected to him, and the firmness of his fingers pressing into my skin led me to believe he needed it as much as I did.

  As he rolled onto his back, he moved me with him until I was on top of him as he relaxed into the floor. Long fingers glided languidly over me.

  “Ethan.”

  “Hmm.” He looked at me through small slits in his eyes.

  “If you ever command me to do anything like that again, you won’t like what happens next.” My tone was as relaxed as I felt. I snuggled in closer, and his chest vibrated against my face as he chuckled.

  With a casually amused voice, he asked, “What exactly will that be?”

  “Probably something like you screaming you can’t believe I kicked you in the balls,” I offered, lifting my head so that my eyes could meet his, steely blue with just a hint of gunmetal.

  “It was an order. In the pack, I’m over you. I have an obligation to keep you safe. Yes, I will order you to do things, and your only response should be ‘yes.’ You’re welcome to add ‘sir’ to it if you’d be inclined.”

  Yes, jackass. How about that? “That’s not going to work for me.” I sat up, grabbed the throw off the sofa and wrapped it around me. He sat up too, gave the cover a look, and tugged at it until one of my breasts was exposed. He started to touch me, and I slapped his hand away, pulled the throw up, and wrapped it tighter around me.

  “I’m serious. You were angry. I get it. Things didn’t go as planned,” I said. Anger peaked in him, and with great effort he extinguished it.

  “I watched you almost die, don’t ask me to be okay with that or the fact that you might do it again, because it’s not going to happen.”

  Things with Ethan were new. I doubted I was the first person in the pack that he’d slept with, but I was probably the only one with whom it lasted more than just a night. This was a relationship. A relationship with Ethan was going to be hard, and we just added fuel to the dysfunction by being in a pack together. It was a delicate and volatile situation. I wished I could say that Ethan was above exploiting his position as Beta to get his way in our relationship, but I knew that wasn’t true.

  As if he read my thoughts or saw the concern and trepidation on my face, he said in a low, rough voice. “Sky, this is new for me, too. You”—he stopped abruptly and blew out a breath—“challenge me in ways that I’m not used to. I don’t know how to deal with you—with this.”

  “Telling me I need to sit down and shut up definitely isn’t the way.”

  With a wry smile, he nodded. “I’m not backing down; you can’t do anything like that again, Sky. You can’t. You can’t put yourself in danger—” Gray drowned his pupils and his brows furrowed together, the ragged sounds of his breathing filling the air. He rested back on the floor and I followed, burying my face in his chest as I struggled to figure out a way to deal with him. With us, things didn’t seem like they were ever going to be simple.

  “I know that wasn’t handled well, but Logan is the last person we want to have us in his pocket. We can’t remove his marks or give him Chris. We just can’t. Not even to save my life. We have to figure something out.”

  “I know. But for now we have to at least let him think he’s going to get what he wants. If we don’t put up a good faith display that we are working on it, he’ll try to kill you.”

  We settled into an uncomfortable silence. My mind kept turning over the few options that we might have, and I kept returning to the curse that had started all of this.

  Cuddled up to Ethan, it was difficult to ignore the light waves of magic that came off him, so reminiscent of the magic from the Aufero that I lifted my head to look for it. But it was in the closet, where I’d placed it days ago. Controlling the magic in it came at a cost, and Maya, who was once dormant, kept trying to make a play for control. I didn’t want to give her an advantage. She was magic—old, draconian, dark magic that gave rise to power, lust, and destruction. I wasn’t giving her access to strong magic until I was confident I could control her and not the other way around. But the magic coming off Ethan was so similar to hers. I snuggled in closer, feeling it, touching the boundaries of it. I recalled the magic he’d used and the spell he’d performed to kill Ethos. He’d effortlessly called on magic to demolish wards so strong that most witches couldn’t erect them.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing?” He tensed at my lie but eventually relaxed. I returned my focus to the magic, trying to unravel it and get to the core of it. This wasn�
�t witch magic; I’d had access to that too often and was intimately familiar with it. There was a tinge of dark elven magic; I remembered the dank, stygian feel of it as well. But this was something altogether different, stronger.

  Ethan sat up. “I need to get going. I really need to talk to Sebastian and Josh.”

  I nodded and sat up, too, but kept a cautious eye on him, wishing I had more time with his magic. The light smile that played at his lips made me wonder if he knew what I was doing.

  He stood, grabbed his clothes, and started to dress. Before he left, I asked, “Do you plan on showing Josh and me the spell you used on Ethos? It might be something we need in the future.”

  A spark of amusement worked at his lips and they kinked into a smirk. “Of course, it’s easy. It was just a spell—an archaic one. I’m pretty sure our mother showed Josh before, but he wasn’t always as interested in old magic as he should have been.” The wayward grin remained as he started to back out of the door, then glanced out the window.

  “Your other vampire is here to visit.” With the same mocking smile, he went out the door.

  With all his plausible answers that made sense on the surface, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell Ethan was. I was more than just a were-animal, and so was Ethan.

  My other vampire?

  I turned to the window to see who he was referring to, although I had a good idea of who it was before I looked. The delicate round face had vacuous opal eyes, a result of feeding often, that stared blankly at the house as if contemplating whether to knock on the door. Please don’t knock on the door.

  Sable was a special type of crazy and left me torn between fearing her and feeling sorry for her, and she was definitely on her way to getting a gold medal in weird. As a human, she’d been the surviving member of a home invasion. Her tragic life was enough to generate pity and empathy for her—until you found out that she was the person who’d tracked down the people responsible for it and killed them, their friends, and their families without remorse. Nineteen when she was tried by a jury, she was just old enough to be convicted of the multiple counts of homicide she was charged with. Of course the Seethe had fallen in love with her and her story and had to turn her. I supposed when you were a vampire, that was what you did, scour the papers and news for sociopaths and make them immortal ones.