“What happened to the others?” I asked.
“We killed most of them.”
Knowing that the Rousseau’s had to resort to murder in order to save my life wasn’t an easy thing to digest.
“They weren’t full-blooded like we are, so they were fairly easy for us to get rid of. Full-blooded werewolves are stronger, bigger, and stealthier than werewolves born from a bite. Santos made the fatal mistake of believing that by creating these…werewolf-like creatures, they would serve his purpose well. He failed to notice that they are weaker than us, especially when they’ve only just turned.”
So that’s why Santos was so much bigger and tougher-looking than the rest of the werewolves. “They were victims, then.”
“You would see it that way.” He shrugged. “Bloodlust is a very powerful incentive. They chose to let it win, and that got them where they are now. However, some escaped, Marjorie…”
I knew that he had been working his way up to that. I was still in danger, and worst of all, the alpha male was still out to get me.
“Jack was one of them.”
“So Santos isn’t the alpha male we thought was after me?”
He shook his head.
“And the real werewolf is still out there?”
He nodded.
“Do we know who he is?”
He shook his head again.
“So we’re as stuck as we were at the beginning. If Santos came after me, does that mean others will too?”
“We’ve already thought about it and agree that it’s a very real possibility.”
So my nightmare wasn’t over. It was just beginning.
“Is the rest of your family okay? Did anyone get hurt?” I changed the subject because I couldn’t take the ugliness of my situation anymore. Nothing had changed. I was still in danger. Someone was still hunting me down and there was a very real possibility that next time my stalker would succeed.
“No, no one was seriously hurt. They are mostly disappointed that some escaped, but our main priority at the time was you, so no one pursued those that fled.”
“How badly am I hurt?”
He frowned deeply. “You have three broken ribs, a dislocated pelvis, a shattered knee, a huge gash on the side of your face which took twenty stitches to close back up, and a very mild concussion.”
“Damn, this is seriously going to affect my social life.” It was my lame attempt at a joke.
Kyran didn’t think it funny. “Marjorie, you could’ve died. You came close to doing so,” he said softly.
“But I’m not dead. I’m alive. Thanks to you and your family, I’m still here.”
He took my hand and planted a soft kiss on it. For several minutes he did nothing but stare into my eyes. It was almost as if he wanted to make sure I really was alive and not some figment of his imagination.
“I know there are things your family and you have kept secret from me. For whatever reason that may be, I won’t hold it against you, but as soon as I get out of this hospital I want to know what’s really going on.”
Kyran seemed to ponder this a bit before he answered. “I promise I—we—will tell you what little we do know. Because there are a few very important things you should know. For now, just rest. You need it.”
Not expecting any more of him but his company, I settled down on my temporary bed as he kissed away my worries. I only hoped that Kyran would keep his promise and tell me everything.
“I will if you stay with me.”
His smile made me want to try to fight the haziness of impending sleep. “I’m not planning on leaving your side any time soon. I won’t leave you willingly if I can help it, Marjorie. I want you to remember that.” His lips brushed against mine. “You need the rest, so sleep. I’ll keep watch over you. Marquis and Alexis should be heading this way soon. Sleep, ma belle…”
With one last kiss to my forehead, I drifted off to sleep with Kyran holding my hand in his, all thoughts of the dangers to come momentarily forgotten. Something told me the Rousseau’s and I were in for a long and never-ending trek that would probably yield more upsetting outcomes than happily ever after ones. The days ahead would prove to be a challenge, of that I was sure.
But for the time being, I was content with the knowledge that I was still alive and that Kyran was by my side. The continuation of the mystery of what my life had now become would soon follow.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As a child, Kristy used to lose herself in an imaginary world by the means of a good book. Now that she’s all grown up, she gets to create her own fictional realms and make them come to life in ways that most readers might not expect.
Writing has always been a passion of hers but she never had the opportunity do so until now. After trying out numerous options, she realized that writing was what she loved the most and so she decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, her very active imagination helped her achieve her goals of creating believable plots with some ordinary, and some not so ordinary characters that move the stories along in one way or another.
As she keeps achieving her dreams of becoming a published author, she divides her time in between four children and a very understanding husband.
http://kristycenteno.com
http://booksbycenteno.com
www.twitter.com/KrissyGirl122
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Secrets of the Moon Page 38