Lost Wolf (Curse of the Moon Book 1)

by Stacy Claflin

  "Yes, sir." Jet's nostrils flared and he stormed up the stairs, muttering to himself.

  It had been a risk bringing him into my pack. He had been born alpha of his own pack, but instead chose to stay with me. We had more power struggles than any other wolf I'd encountered. He was also more loyal than any other.

  "Sir?" Brick stared at me.

  I counted to ten. "I need to clear my head before the others wake. I'll be back long before dusk."

  "Okay. Do you want me to prepare dinner?"

  "Crap." Usually, I prepared the big full moon meal. Cooking tended to calm me. We all ate ravenously before shifting, barely stopping to use our hands, much less utensils.

  Brick tilted his head. "It's not a problem."

  I glanced at a clock on the wall. "If I'm not back in ninety minutes, you can start. The fridge is stocked."

  He flicked a nod in my direction.

  "Can you put this in my room for me?" I held out my bag.

  "You're going to run in slacks?"

  "Right now, I don't care."

  Brick took my bag and headed upstairs.

  I went outside and stared at the woods. Hopefully a run would help, though the only thing that would truly help would be to have Victoria back in my arms—and I would stop at nothing until that happened.

  Chapter 7

  Victoria

  I paced my room, holding back tears. Why was I so sure I knew Professor Foley? And not just generally? I could recall the feel of his embrace. I was certain of the scent of his aftershave. Even his kisses—when I closed my eyes, I could feel those gorgeous lips on mine. I could taste the familiar minty sweetness.

  And why wouldn't my bones stop hurting? Irritation set in and I rubbed my neck.

  Why on earth couldn't I remember anything before I'd arrived in my shiny black Jaguar?

  I picked up a fluffy beige teddy bear from my bed and stared at it. "Are you special? Or just some stupid random toy?" I chucked it at the bed.

  "Whoa," Sasha said. "What'd the bear do to piss you off?"

  "How long have you been standing there?" I snapped.

  "Long enough to see you throw the poor teddy."

  I scowled.

  "What's the matter?" She gave me a sympathetic glance and closed the door.

  How could I explain anything without sounding like a nut job? No memories before arriving, and now I was certain I'd had a romantic relationship with my professor. He looked about thirty, and I was eighteen. Or at least I thought I was—that was what my driver's license showed.

  Sasha put an arm around me. "Take a deep breath. I'm sure whatever it is will be okay."

  I grumbled. A sharp pain ran down my spine. I gasped and gritted my teeth.

  "Do you need to go to the clinic?"

  "No. I'm fine. Really."

  She shook her head. "Do you need something to eat?"

  My stomach growled at the mention of food. I was ravenous.

  "Come on." She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door.

  I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

  Down in the kitchen, Landon sat at the table, texting. He glanced up. "How are—what's wrong?"

  "Girl needs some food," Sasha said.

  He arched a brow. "You look pale."

  I shrugged.

  Landon jumped up. "We've got plenty for sub sandwiches."

  The two of them pulled out the fixings. I opened a jar of pickles and scarfed them all down.

  Sasha arched a brow. "Sure you're not knocked up?"

  I shook my head, but really, how would I know if I was? Maybe I was, and the shock of it had created a serious case of amnesia. But I didn't care. I just needed to eat more food.

  Sharp pains shot through my shoulders. I grimaced, determined not to cry out. It seemed to work. Neither of them noticed my agony.

  Landon and Sasha piled lunch meat and cheese on white bread.

  I grabbed a tomato and took a bite, sending juice and seeds flying in several directions.

  "Can't you wait a couple minutes?" Sasha wrinkled her brow.

  "No." I bit into the tomato more carefully, and managed to eat the rest without making a further mess. Then I reached for some cheese, but Sasha shooed me away.

  "Fine," I grumbled and went into the cabinet. I pulled out a jar of peanut butter and scooped some out with my fingers.

  "Gross," Landon said. "Ever heard of a spoon?"

  I glared at him and ate it.

  He shook his head and turned to Sasha. "I thought all you girls went out for lunch."

  "We did."

  "What'd she eat? A piece of lettuce?"

  "Funny." I scooped more peanut butter into my hand.

  "You know what?" he asked. "Just keep that jar. I'll buy a new one."

  "Here." Sasha handed me a six-inch sub. The scents of meat, onions, and condiments made my mouth water.

  I grabbed it without a word and had to force myself to stop and chew. Though it seemed easier. I ran my tongue along my teeth. Had they always been this sharp?

  She stared at me. "How did you eat that so fast?"

  "Hungry." I turned around and grabbed the one Landon made. It smelled even better than Sasha's.

  "Hey," he exclaimed.

  I bit into it without apology. This one had peppers—that was why it smelled so good. It tasted even better.

  "I'll just make another." Landon's brows came together. He turned to Sasha. "Maybe you're onto something with being knocked up."

  She turned to me. "Are you?"

  My mouth was too full to answer.

  "Maybe we should take you to the all-you-can-eat place," Landon said. "I can't afford to give you any more of my food."

  My stomach growled.

  Sasha slapped her forehead. "You're hungry after all that?"

  I turned to Landon. "Where's that restaurant you mentioned?"

  He gave me the directions. "Just don't put them out of business."

  "Funny."

  "Maybe we should get you to that clinic," Sasha said. "This isn't normal."

  "I'm just hungry—ow!" I doubled over as every bone in my body radiated pain.

  "That definitely isn't normal," Landon said. He grabbed my arms and pulled me to the table. "What hurts?"

  "Everything," I moaned and slumped into the hard chair. The pain finally started to ease. "I think I need to lie down."

  Sasha and Landon exchanged a worried glance.

  "Sorry about all this, guys. Next time the kitchen's a mess, I've got it." I forced myself to stand and went upstairs, clinging to the railing for support.

  They were talking about me, but I couldn't focus on a word because my bones were starting to hurt again. I finally made it to my room and climbed into bed. I knew they were right—whatever was going on with me wasn't normal.

  Nothing added up. No memories, jaguars everywhere, some kind of connection with my professor, and now the ravenous hunger and bone pain. It felt like my skeleton wanted to explode.

  I grasped some blankets and squeezed, trying not to cry out as a new wave hit. Would I survive this… whatever it was?

  My stomach growled again. There was no way I could eat while dealing with this. What was my body thinking? I writhed and kicked, all the while biting my tongue to keep from screaming out.

  If I couldn't convince Sasha and Landon that I was getting better, they'd take me to a doctor. With symptoms like these, I'd likely wind up locked away. I just needed to find a way to dig around enough to figure out what was going on.

  It was my memories and my body. There was no reason I couldn't find out what was going on—once the pain and hunger left. I didn't know which one was worse.

  But it was starting to piss me off. College was supposed to be one of the best times of life—the first shot at freedom. Time to hang out with cool people and have fun without parents controlling everything. Blessed independence.

  All I had was one big, crazy mystery that would make me look twice as nuts if I told anyone. The only thing I wante
d was to know what was going on. Was that so much to ask?

  My phone played a tune from somewhere in the room.

  I groaned. It was probably Carter. I vaguely recalled making plans with him again. Dinner?

  My mouth watered and my stomach roared thinking about food at the Jag. Maybe I could even meet others and ask some questions to hopefully get more pieces to this puzzle.

  The song on my phone continued. I pulled myself out of bed and crawled on all fours to the bathroom. I'd seen some painkillers in there, hadn't I?

  My legs ached, the pain dulling. Heat radiated up and down my spine. Hunger continued tearing through me—I was tempted to peel the paint off the wall and eat that. Instead, I lay on the little fuzzy pink rug and stared at the ceiling.

  Inside the bedroom, my phone played its song again.

  Carter would think I was ignoring him. I had to at least talk to him. If only I could pull myself up and find some medicine. Then I'd be fine.

  Right. That would make everything better. I rolled my eyes.

  With any luck, hanging out with Carter would at least distract me from everything else. Maybe if I was really fortunate, I might find some answers, but I wasn't going to hold my breath.

  I had to accept the fact that I might not ever remember anything about my life before arriving here. Not that I would stop looking, but I had to focus on school and building my future. I didn't need a past to build a future.

  Groaning, I grabbed onto the handle of a drawer and pulled myself up without flinging the drawer open. When I got to my knees, I clung to the counter and heaved myself up. I went through the cabinet, knocking things down until I found some ibuprofen. Once I got past the childproof cap, I poured four onto my palm—twice the recommended amount, but I was in at least twice as much pain as was normal.

  I swallowed them with some water and then stumbled back to the bed. At least I could walk. Improvement was good. Right?

  "Are you okay?"

  I jumped and turned to Sasha by the door. She arched a brow. "What's going on—seriously?"

  "Probably just nerves." I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. "I'm feeling better already."

  "Is that what all the noise was in the bathroom?"

  "You saying you never knocked anything over?" I asked.

  "I've never eaten like I just saw you eat. You scarfed more than two quarterbacks do after a game. No joke."

  "As long as I didn't eat more than a fullback."

  She snorted. "At least you've got a sense of humor. But really, what's going on? Is this normal?"

  "Maybe."

  "You haven't talked to your family since you got here, have you?"

  Tears stung my eyes. "Nope."

  "Call them. Maybe this is genetic—something your Great-Aunt Gertrude had and passed to you."

  "Later."

  She came over and handed me my phone. "Looks like you missed some calls from that hottie, Carter. And some texts. Want me to check them for you?"

  I pulled a pillow over my face. Couldn't the world just disappear for a while?

  The phone sounded again.

  "Want me to answer?" Sasha asked.

  "No."

  "Hi, Carter," she practically sang.

  I sat up and stared at her.

  She had my phone up to her face and was nodding. "She's here, but how do I put this delicately? She's having… lady problems."

  "What?" I threw a pillow at her.

  "Mmm hmm." She tossed it back. "Tonight? I'll ask her."

  "Do I want to know?" I mumbled.

  "He wants to take you back to the Jag. He promises to have you home in time for a full night of beauty sleep for your first day of classes."

  I rubbed my aching neck.

  What did I have to lose?

  Chapter 8

  Toby

  I stared at the moon as the rest of my pack ran off in other directions, howling and chasing each other. My inner wolf clawed to get out, but I was fighting it—not that I could hold out much longer.

  The curse of the moon.

  I narrowed my eyes and cursed it for cursing me and my kind.

  Pain ran through my spine as my bones shifted and prepared to change shape. I clenched my teeth and removed my clothes, adding them to the pile.

  My body threw me to the ground and I landed on all fours as my wolf escaped. Fur popped out, slicing through my skin. I gritted my teeth. Fighting the process only made it worse.

  I closed my eyes and waited until I could feel paws on the ground. When I opened my eyes, everything seemed brighter. I did love the night vision and heightened senses.

  My wolf urged me to join the pack.

  Not tonight.

  Our nose sniffed out Jet, Brick, and the others.

  I shook our head.

  A low growl rumbled from our throat.

  Typically, we werewolves were one with our inner wolves, but the exception was when we had differing motives. The wolf longed to run with the pack—our family. I needed to find Victoria—our other half.

  I parked our hindquarters on the ground.

  Our pack queen is nearby. We have to find her. She needs us.

  My wolf stared at the moon and howled, calling out to the others.

  You'd leave her to fend for herself?

  Another growl escaped our mouth.

  He wasn't going to win tonight. Not when Victoria was probably frightened somewhere not far away. What if she had shifted around others?

  My wolf lowered our nose, submitting to my leadership. Finally. He missed Victoria's wolf form as much as I missed her in her human form.

  I raised our nose and sniffed the air, weeding out the unimportant smells.

  A slight breeze brought a familiar aroma.

  Victoria.

  She had to be several miles away, given how faint the scent was. I put our nose to work to make sure it was coming from the direction I thought.

  It was.

  A howl sounded in the distance. The pack was looking for us.

  I returned the call, letting them know we would join them later.

  A call of protest sounded.

  I howled a final time to let them know my mind was made up. Jet would be happy to be the temporary alpha, anyway.

  My wolf rose and took a step toward Victoria's scent. We melded together and then burst into a run, going past the house and eventually down a dirt road which led us through more trees.

  We came to a large, dark structure with a bright sign. I couldn't make out what it read from my angle. I did, however, recognize that all of the cars in the parking lot were extremely expensive, many imported.

  A heavy feline scent hung in the air, and it wasn't from house cats.

  Shifters.

  I slowed down to a near-crawl and walked around the immense building. A wide variety of odors assaulted our nose, everything from food to perfumes. I could even smell strange plant life—they had to have been imported like the cars.

  Around the back of the building, I finally saw windows. People danced inside, appearing to have the time of their lives. Music sounded from inside, loud enough that I could feel the beat on the ground.

  I paced, keeping my focus on the party. Victoria's scent lingered, and it was stronger here. It seemed to be coming from inside, but that didn't make any sense. Why would a wolf be in there? Especially among feline shifters?

  Rumors abounded of jaguars and cougars, but this was the first real proof I had of any of it. Though I couldn't tell if what I smelled was jaguar or cougar, I had a feeling I'd soon know the difference.

  My wolf and I sat, focusing all the more on the dancers. I could sense that he wanted to leave, not that I could blame him. We were in dangerous territory, and if any of the other shifters caught wind of us it might get ugly. No way we could take on an entire pack—or herd, or whatever cats traveled in.

  Then I saw her. Not only was Victoria in human form—during the full moon—but she was dancing with a tall, muscular man.

&nb
sp; A low growl escaped our throat. I wasn't sure if that was from me or my wolf. I didn't care.

  What was she doing with that guy?

  I growled, exposing our teeth. I would tear him apart.

  My wolf urged me to back down.

  Have you lost your mind?

  An annoying feeling of calmness washed over me.

  Stop it!

  He didn't. Another few minutes of this, and I would curl up and go to sleep.

  A thought crossed my mind—I knew nothing of what had happened to her during our time apart. Running inside to fight wouldn't solve anything.

  Back before her death, we had been in rival packs. Both of our fathers were alphas, and had expressly forbidden us from seeing each other. We had both been chosen to marry others from our respective packs.

  Not that any of that had kept me from falling head over paws for her.

  My wolf finally relented with his force to calm me. I brought my focus back to Victoria.

  I let out a yelp.

  She was wearing a white lacy dress. I jumped up and paced. This couldn't be a wedding, could it? She hadn't somehow been turned into a cat shifter?

  No. It wasn't possible.

  Victoria was a wolf.

  Yet she was human during the full moon.

  What had they done to her?

  I growled and inched toward the building.

  A twig snapped nearby.

  It was only someone taking a bag of trash to the dumpster. He didn't even look my way.

  I snapped my neck back toward Victoria. That pompous jerk held her close and spoke into her ear. She threw her head back and laughed.

  My wolf urged me to return to the pack.

  Never.

  A wave of calm pulsated through me.

  Sometimes I hated him. It was my turn to give in to his leadership. Later, I would probably agree that he was right. But right then, staring at Victoria in the arms of another man—a feline shifter—nothing other than an attack made sense.

  Why was she wearing what looked like a wedding dress? Could that just be the style of formal wear this year?

  My wolf stepped away from the building. He'd calmed the fight out of me. When he burst into a run, I merely went along for the ride. I would need to find out as much as I could the next day when she showed up to class.