Lunar Light

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Lunar Light Page 2

by Penelope Fletcher


  I jerked my shoulder repeatedly into the Wendigo’s stomach. He snuffled slightly, but otherwise was sound asleep, face slack. I jerked again, and his eyelids fluttered, but did not open. Then he stirred briefly and his head rose a fraction. He inhaled deeply and snaked his tongue out to flick the tip against my shoulder. His chest vibrated as he made a rumbling noise of approval, and I felt something warm and hard poking my opposite shoulder blade. He licked me again but then he breathed out sharply and went lax.

  My eye twitched and I fought the urge to throw him to the ground and bite him silly.

  Taking a series of rapid breaths I sucked it up and shifted his weight to ensure he was rested across my shoulders evenly. Then I clamped one arm up and over his back until I could see my own pointy elbow in the corner of my eye. I lifted one leg and settled it high on the rock. The other bounced slightly as I prepared for what I knew would drain the remainder of my strength.

  I needed to be quick and precise.

  Glancing up I reminded myself of the toe and finger hold holds I’d used countless times before, and adjusted my path to accommodate for the lack of an arm. I reached up and dug my claws into the rock, gouging it out until I had a deep groove in which to start from. Bending my knees, I gave a powerful push from both thighs. I launched myself up and released the rock to catapult ten feet before I simultaneously dug my heel talons and right hand claws back into the wall. My body jerked, my joints wrenched and strained. The weight was almost too much. For a split second a flaming pain darted down my limbs, and I feared my grip would not hold. But it did. I didn’t wait for the throbbing to become too much to handle. I had at best guess five more leaps, and each would be harder than the last. I nailed it in four. Sheer grit and determination sent me further with each bound, but as my hand slapped on the floor of the cave floor my right foot slipped, and without the extra supporting hand my entire body dropped. The Wendigo rolled off my shoulder. With a yelp of fright bordering on desperation I managed to snag one of his ankles, screaming as his weight caused my entire body to jolt.

  Lightning had the clouds flashing in a myriad of luminous colors, but instead of laughing in joy as I usually would, I cursed it. The flashes were so bright and frequent I could see animals scurrying away in the understory. If I could see down then those who pursued us could see up. I had no doubt my sheet of shimmering white hair would act as a beacon in the dark.

  I had to keep moving. If I stopped my body would shift back and then we would be finished.

  Screeching, I lifted him until my other arm was level with the cave floor. With one forearm and one hand I pushed myself up into the cave. I crawled forward, dragging his dead weight with me until we lay flat out on the floor. My chest heaved, muscles quivered. Never had I taxed my strength so fully. Had I not known every crevice and crack in the rock I never would’ve made it.

  With my last burst of energy I pulled us deeper into the cave, ignoring the sting as my skin scrapped over the rough floor. My hide was delicate looking but tough.

  Thunder rolled and the rains fell harder. The wind stampeded across the land, buffeting against the rocks. It uprooted small trees to hurl them out of its path. Furious and ardent it doused the rolling hills with shards of ice. The tempest that claimed the Highlands was mine, and it was magnificent.

  I lurched up in panic, my spines already vibrating. My mind began to clear, the inhuman thought process stilling before it had fully begun, and I realized in horror I was going to shift back to human with an unknown male Wendigo.

  This was not one of my brightest moments.

  The intensity of the pain took me by surprise, and I fell to my knees as my vertebrae snapped back inside my body. My ribs slammed inward as my waist exploded out. My arms and legs shrank, as did my talons. My teeth slid back up and my eyes burned. I shivered; skin goosepimply since I once again had pores. My hair was a veil, shrouding me from the rest of the world. Stomach gurgling and heart thumping hard, I focused on the space in front of me as my insides moved back into their original places.

  I was left naked, shaking, and utterly drained.

  Hearing a low growing from behind me, I slanted a look over my human shoulder through my hair.

  Coal black eyes gleamed at me from the dark. Gleamed with a thought I knew well.

  Hunger.

  “Where?” The Wendigo asked in a rumbling growl.

  I arched an eyebrow at his first question to me. I had expected him to attack. I licked my lips, hesitant, and decided I needed to somehow retain the upper hand, but not piss him off enough that he would lunge for me. He clearly knew that I was instrumental in his survival since he was focusing on speech rather than movement.

  It was difficult to speak fluently when in beast form. All the Wendigo voice box could manage was one, maybe two syllable words. That was why when we mimicked a voice to cry for help and lure our prey into the woods, it usually was just the world ‘help’ we called out.

  I shifted round so I faced him dead on, keeping myself crouched and making no sudden movements. I held his gaze with my own. Backing down or looking away would name me submissive and weaker of which I was neither.

  “In a cave embedded in the mountainside.” I lowered my voice. “My territory.”

  Inky pupils studied me. “You?”

  I understood. “Yes. I am Wendiga. I saved you. I brought you here.”

  “Why?”

  I stiffened. Why? Who knew such a simple question could cause such a fluster. I sneered at him and said nothing.

  Realizing I was not going to answer he clutched at his leg and groaned. I remembered the bullets.

  “You won’t shift back until your body has healed enough to survive the change. I’m exhausted and need to sleep, but I can’t do that since you’ll kill me.” He peered at me, wary, but attentive. I spoke slowly, knowing it can take time for the beast to understand. “I’m going to take the bullets out so you can heal. It will hurt. If you kill me whilst I’m doing it you’ll bleed or starve to death without me.”

  I waited until he lay back and placed his claws on the ground beside him in submission.

  Standing, I limped over and flicked my gaze over his leg.

  I had forgotten how giant the beast forms were, and I had never seen a male before. He had to be at least nine feet tall. His limbs were brawny and thick and looked indestructible. My skin was a beautiful shade of blue when I fully shifted, but his shading was incredible, a glistening spectrum of indigo, purple and the darkest navy. His general body shape matched my Wendiga form, but everything was bigger, harder and deadly looking. I was not exactly delicate in appearance, so for something to give me pause was something magnificent indeed. His hair was ebony black and streaked with flaxen strands of sapphire. It was long enough to curl around his forehead and the nape of his neck in a shaggy mess. His fangs rested on his blue lips and gleamed with a pearly sheen.

  If the man matched the beast in stature he would be glorious.

  My eyes drifted over him, surveying his nakedness with a detached sort of curiosity. I noticed how even though his torso was long like mine, and his waist narrow, that he was heavily packed with muscle. My form was much leaner. Cocking my head and running my hands though my hair in habit, I let my gaze brush over his abdominals, down his hips until my eyes landed on an area of his body very different from my own.

  I flushed, suddenly feeling small and frail, not a feeling I was accustomed to. Interesting how I was suddenly seeing him as naked rather than nude.

  He was still and calm, so I bent over and poked a finger into a bullet hole.

  He reared up, claws slashing, but I had expected the reaction so I was already crouched and his swing went right over my head, whistling as it passed. I breathed out sharply, knowing if I had still been standing I would’ve been crushed. Essentially, I was human now with the same strength and bodily weakness.

  That was the point of the Wendigo curse. You remained human and hungered after the flesh of your own kind even as i
t revolted you.

  “If you don’t let me do this we will both die,” I said bluntly. “I know control is hard, but you seem to have some measure of it since you haven’t lunged for me. You need to handle the Wendigo so I can get this done.”

  After waiting a beat so my words sunk in he fell back again, chest rising and falling in massive undulations.

  I hesitated. I was naked, no, I was nude and … he was a Wendigo and I needed to drag my mind from the gutter.

  I gracefully kicked my leg out and sank down to straddle his wounded upper thigh with my back to him. His skin was icy, slippery smooth and I’m ashamed to say I may have shifted one or five too many times to find a comfortable seat. I said a quick prayer and used my thumb and forefinger to dig into the first bullet hole. It was buried deep making me frown. I had to really burrow and tunnel around. Usually our beast forms would reject any invading objects and heal. For the bullet to still be lodged so deeply, and the blood to flow so freely, was odd. My nails scraped the bullet. A shudder of revulsion started from my fingertips and radiated up my arm until my entire body hummed. Silver. Sucking in a breath I clasped the bullet tightly as I could and yanked it out.

  The Wendigo howled, and I ducked just in time to avoid another swipe of his claws, feeling my hair rippling in the light breeze his sudden movement caused. As he fell back with a loud thump, I used the time to sink my fingertips into the other wound and pull the other bullet out. By the time he was ready to try and swat me again, I was throwing the silver lumps into the corner of the cave and rolling out of reach.

  I shifted onto my haunches and eyed him warily. This situation just got worse. I’d dug silver from his body meaning that he humans who hunted him knew that was what hurt us enough to slow us down. You could plug two full clips of normal bullets into a Wendigo and only have a moment to wonder why it wasn’t dead before it ripped your face off. You could stab us or beat us within an inch of our lives and we would always bounce back. Fire and silver that was what killed us. So for me to be pulling silver bullets out of a male Wendigo’s leg – a Wendigo that was thousands of miles away from any Clan and somehow in my territory – was bad. But not as bad as that fact his leg was closing up and he was crawling toward me, his fangs bared with a very deliberate and recognizable expression on his face.

  I held my ground, clenching my jaw. Breathing in deeply I decided it was all or nothing.

  I crawled forward, arms and legs moving in synchronization. I may not have the power and strength of my Wendiga form, but I was still essentially a predator, and this beast’s superior.

  I was a female of his kind and he would have been raised to worship me.

  Pausing a mere breath away from his face, I kept my gaze locked with his. I let my anger spark and catch into blue flames that blazed in my eyes, warning him.

  His own narrowed in suspicion and he sniffed. I snorted. That would do him no good. I was human, and as a human I smelled no different from the rest - was no different from the rest- apart from the fact I was a cannibal that could shift shapes when the moon was full.

  He growled at my derision but seemed satisfied at my position of authority. He lowered his head and his body melted into the floor. His body shook violently and his spine snapped back from view.

  Tired, I fell back onto my ass then my back. Maybe when he woke up we could shelve the animal behavior and relate to each other as young adults. He would tell me what I wanted to know and then I would make him… disappear.

  My eyelids slid closed, no longer able to hold their own weight and I slept.

  Chapter 3

  There was a cool, heavy arm slung across my waist. A firm muscular thigh covered mine. My head was pillowed on a broad and smooth chest, and when I looked down I saw a hand was cupping my breast a moment before I felt it. A thumb lazily flicked my hardening nipple. Stifling a gasp as my libido spiked, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the epic hard-on pressed into my hip, and squeezed it much harder than I should.

  The lazy thumb stopped mid stroke, as did the inhalation of the man whose body was both a blanket and bed to my own.

  “Get off me,” I said, showing just how serious I was by pressing my fingernails into his solid length.

  He hissed. In a flash both my hands were pinned above my head as the dark haired stranger straddled me. He leaned over and rubbed his nose against mine. The sugary scent from before curled into my nose, less intense, and heavily masked by the spicy smell of male arousal. I jerked when his tongue licked at my earlobe and I tried to bite him, but then stopped myself knowing if I broke the skin I would shift again, and I had yet to get my answers.

  He lifted his head slightly, and I could see the outline of his firm jaw in the semi dark.

  “You smell like lemons and wild things,” he said. His mouth moved over my throat nibbling and I swear my eyes rolled into the back of my head it felt so good. “What is your name?” he asked politely. His voice was deep and elemental. It made me think of the roots in the conifer tree, unyielding and profound in its power. Had I been a lesser being it would sweep me away, but my own voice was a husky rasp, and sounded to the ear as if I’d spent the night screaming in pleasure. It could bring a man to his knees if I so chose, a gift from my curse.

  His reaction to me made me bold and I slanted him a coy look from under my lashes. Though I knew it might seem overtly sexual rather than the result of a dry mouth, I licked my lips. His glinting eyes tracked the idle movement with rapt attention. He had nice eyes, almond shaped and framed with long thick lashes that were so dark they contrasted starkly on his lightly tanned skin.

  “Why are you in my territory,” I asked, nonchalant, not bothering to struggle.

  He was a man and I was a woman. Physically he had me beat and there was no point getting myself all worked up over a little body contact. He was unnerved by my obedience and I smiled, taking comfort in the fact that he had traditional male sensibilities. Already I could see him considering me as a soft female to protect and seduce rather than a warrior to fear and battle. It would make killing him easier in the end.

  I drew one of my legs up and kneed him gently in the back, playing up to the warped image he had of me. “I asked you a question.” I let the leg fall and lay still.

  “I asked first.” His lips moved down my throat, explorative, tasting. “What is your name?” I squirmed when he kissed the swell of my breast.

  “Are you always this forward?”

  “Are you always this annoying?” he countered. “It’s a simple question, polite in point of fact.”

  “You presume that I want to tell you my name, that I want you on top of me in all your glory.” My eyes hardened and I prayed my desire was not glittering as evidently in my eyes as it was in his. “How proud you are.”

  He leaned in and his lips hovered above my nipple, which hardened into a stiff peak. I quivered and swallowed hard, the self control I had to employ not to arch myself up and thrust my breast into his mouth had me becoming uncomfortably warm, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

  Lord, I couldn’t do it.

  “Evangeline,” I murmured. He sighed, was that disappointment? He leaned away and when the heavy throbbing low down in my abdomen increased I conceded being stubborn may have been the better path to take – the path to release. Damn it. “And you are?”

  “Luke. And I’m in your territory because I want to be.” He released my arms and sat up, rested his hands on his legs. “Got a problem with that?”

  My hands came down to quickly grip his thighs and he flinched. Ah, so he was not totally unaware of the danger he faced. I smiled impishly and surged up, rolling him over so his back hit the floor and I straddled him. “Of course I do.” I pressed my knees inward, surprised at how pleasant the sensation of being so close and so in control was. He became rock hard beneath me, and if possible his erection grew, pressed up against me with unrelenting persistence.

  His eyes smoldered and his jaw clenched when I rocked my pelvis
to torment him.

  Laughing throatily, I jumped up, skipping to the edge of the cave. The storm had passed leaving an unholy mess in its wake. The tree line seemed sparser, as if it had lost most of its leaves and many young evergreens had been ripped from the ground and thrashed about. The riverbed had broken, and waterlogged the forest floor. The night air was calm and the clouds wispy, spent. The smaller wildlife was still, almost as if they did not trust the tempest to have dispersed. The wolves I gave leave to roam these mountains howled in the distance.

  A low growl rumbled behind me. “Come away from there.”

  “These are my mountains,” I said over my shoulder. “They won’t find us.”

  I heard him stand and stop behind me. “Your hair is like starlight, a silver flame in the dark.” Cold hands found my hips. “Move away, sweetheart.”

  He drew me into him, away from the cave mouth and pressed me into the curved wall. His hand slid up to rest above my head. Even as a man he towered over me and I was not short in stature. I pushed five-nine barefooted and my presence made me still seem taller.

  I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and let my teeth graze across it as it popped out.

  “You’re from a southern Clan,” I said distractedly. “I know that much.”

  It was a statement based on the fact my mother was from a northern Clan and she had an accent similar to his except she pronounced her vowels crisper. This man, Luke, his inflection was lazy drawl, the words fluttering off his tongue, but carrying a weight that made my knees weak.

  “You are a mystery,” he said and lifted a skein of my hair. He let the strands slip through his fingers then wound his hand around a larger hunk and tugged me closer. “Your voice is not that of The People. You trill and clip your words at odd times, like the humans of this land, a,” he frowned, “burr it is called. You bear no Clan mark and you are … untouched.”

  The word ‘untouched’ was spoken like a caress and muscles in my pussy clenched. I was wet and finding it difficult not to squirm.

 

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