“You are Marjorie’s mate, are you not?”
Something in me clicks. She knows who I am. She knows who Marjorie is.
“Please, remove this cloth. Let me look upon your face.”
I note the chains around her shackles don’t allow for her hands to reach her face, which I imagine has been done with the intention to keep her mobility restricted. Who feeds her then? Someone must come in her to make sure she is nourished enough to make it another day.
What really plagues me is who is she? Why is she here?
I reach for the cloth and carefully remove it, discarding it on the ground next to me. I can see her face clearly, now that she’s free of the rag, and what my eyes register shocks me. Heart shaped face, hazel eyes, long sandy hair. She’s the spitting image of Marjorie, except she’s older by many years. Her face is locked in an expression of sadness. Her eyes scrutinizes me with interest.
“You will make a good mate. Handsome, brave, and strong. Full of fire. Loyal. You will be perfect for Marjorie. She will need someone like you to guide her. To introduce her into our world.”
Gage doesn’t tear his eyes away from the woman’s face and neither do I. We can’t give credit to what we are seeing. Is this fate? Coincidence? Or just plain luck? Can it be? Should I even ask?
“You are Kyran, yes?”
I nod.
“They talk about you often. They fear you.”
“What is it they fear?”
A sad smile spreads across her face. “You will put an end to their plans.”
I hold back the many questions about Kenny, the Gandillons, and even about Marjorie I really want to ask and instead I say, “Elsa?”
Her eyes widen as if she wasn’t expecting me to know who she is.
“You are Marjorie’s mother and Bray’s cousin, right?”
Hearing the admission seems like an idiotic thing, but I wait in anticipation of what she will say. All I have to do is look at her and I can see the resemblance to Bray and Marjorie. They are related. There is no doubt.
For years Marjorie believed her mother dead, but here she is, in front of me. She may not be in the best condition, but she is alive.
“You have heard of me.” Her gaze falls on Gage for a moment before coming back to me.
“Bray told me.”
“Bray is alive?” She seems shocked by the news. “He survived the Carlisle Castle takeover? How?”
“It’s a long story—one I know very little of, but he’s in Wolf Creek Hollow. He came for Marjorie. And...he’s been looking for you for a long time.”
“Bray is here?” Her eyebrows lift. “Is Bayard here as well?”
“So is Sabine.”
Elsa’s eyes widen. “All this time I had no clue he was still out there. Everyone I encountered couldn’t tell me for sure if he had made it out alive.”
I give her a moment to process all this information. It’s an emotional moment for her.
“They don’t mention Bray?” I ask after a few seconds.
“No. They talk about the Rousseaus, mostly. They have made no mention of my family, but I suppose it makes sense they’d keep quiet about it. They wouldn’t want me to know my pack is here.”
I nod, realizing she’s likely right. But she knows now.
She leans her head against the wall behind her, shutting her eyes. “Does Marjorie know about me?”
I swallow what little saliva is in my mouth. “She knows everything.”
Her eyes pop open immediately. “Then she knows who she is and who I am.”
“Descendants of the Lost child and the Founding Father.”
With a nod she turns her gaze to me once more. “I owe it to her to explain why I left.” She wiggles her wrists. “And where I have been all this time. Bray will fill her in with the rest, but if I get the chance to talk to my daughter, I will tell her my truth and hope she will find it in her to forgive me for leaving her so suddenly all those years ago.”
For Marjorie’s sake, I hope the reason for her mother’s abandonment was due to the danger to her daughter should she had stayed behind.
“What did you mean when you said fill Marjorie in?”
“The Ancient twelve. The Founding Father. They have a story. One Bray or Bayard will tell her eventually. Perhaps, if she ever decides to receive the gift of the bite.”
I shake away the images her last few words evoke. Alexis took it upon himself to bite Marjorie, ensuring here survival, knowing the consequences his actions would bring. In the end, he forfeited his life for the woman he loved.
“The choice was taken from her.”
Elsa’s expression softens. “Then she will find out in time.”
I want to ask what the mystery behind the Founding Father and the Ancient Twelve is, but as I open my mouth to question Elsa about it, a series of angry voices drift toward us and I know now is not the time.
A small group of wolves approach, and by the sound of their bickering I am made aware whatever they have in mind is probably not good for any of us trapped here. Dreading what I will find next, I pick myself off the floor and present my back to Elsa. I turn my attention to the halls to meet with whoever will emerge from one of them head on. Gage does the same.
“They come again,” Elsa murmurs. And it’s the horror in her voice what makes me rethink my choice to seek vengeance without assistance. If something happens to us tonight, our family will never know what happened. We will be lost to Marquis and Josephine forever. To Marjorie. Alexis’ life would have been lost in vain for I know he gave up his, so I could have a future with Marjorie.
Gage tenses beside me. But I vow that I won’t die here tonight. Not if I have anything to say about it. I won’t lose another sibling. I won’t give in to their demands. I won’t renounce that which I care for the most. From now on, I will protect those I love and fight back to ensure they will never be hurt, even if I have to crawl back from my grave to do it.
I’m done regretting the curse I was born with. From this day forth, I will use my deadliest flaw to my advantage—my bloodlust...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristy Centeno is the author of the Secrets of the Moon saga and Keeper Witches series.
She has always had a passion for books and after years of being an avid reader, she decided to transform her desire to write into a reality and thus, her first novel was born. When she’s not busy taking care of her five children or holding down the fort, she finds time to sit and do what she loves the most: writing.
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Blood Moon Page 11