Moon Bound
Leisl Leighton
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Moon Bound
Leisl Leighton
Only her love can heal his broken soul…
Five hundred years ago, facing extinction, a group of powerful witches united to create a pact with the Were to save witch-kind. The pact expelled an ancient evil, known only as the Darkness, that was blocking the Were from their wolves. With the Darkness destroyed, the Packs and their covens grew strong as they thrived beside each other in their brand-new world.
But the Darkness was not destroyed.
Wiccan Healer Witch Bronwyn Kincaid wants a quiet life. Her new powers have other ideas. Her increased healing magic and empathy mean she can’t ignore the plight of River Collins, a wolf brought up thinking the animal inside him is an evil he must forever suppress. If Bronwyn can’t control her powers and help River accept his wolf, the evil Darkness that hunts the Were will use them to destroy those they love.
About the author
LEISL is a tall red head with an overly large imagination. As a child, she identified strongly with Anne of Green Gables. Given that she is a voracious reader and born performer, it came as no surprise to anyone when she did a double major in English Literature and Drama for her BA, then went on to a career as an actor, singer and dancer, as well as scriptwriter, stage manager and musical director for cabaret and theatre restaurants (one of which she co-owned and ran for six years). After starting a family Leisl stopped performing and instead began writing the stories that had been plaguing her dreams. Leisl’s stories have won and placed in many competitions in Australia and the US, including the STALI, Golden Opportunities, Heart of the West, Linda Howard Award of Excellence, Touch of Magic and many others. Leisl lives in the leafy suburbs of Melbourne with her two beautiful boys, lovely hubby, overly spunky dogs, Buffy and Skye, and likes to spend time with family and friends. She is addicted to the Syfy channel, and her shelves are full of fantasy and paranormal books and scifi DVDs. She sometimes sings in a choir, has worked as a swim teacher, loves to ski, can talk the hind leg off a donkey and has been president of Romance Writers of Australia from 2014 to 2017.
Acknowledgements
I couldn’t have done this without my husband, Mark, who takes care of all things techie and listens to me ramble about characters and plotlines that are as real to me as he is. Thankfully he loves me and knows I’m not insane. Thanks to my two beautiful boys, Jacob and Nathaniel, for doing the same—it can be tough sometimes to have a mum who lives in another world! Thanks to my family and close friends—especially my parents, Kerril and Jim—for their never-ending encouragement and support and helping me out with the kids when I had a deadline that was making me lose hair. Aside from great family and friends, a writer needs a Coven of writing peeps all their own. Thanks to my friends in my writing groups—Liz, Laura, Chris, Marnie, Frana and Helena. I couldn’t have gotten here without you. Thanks especially to Marnie and Anyo, the best Beta readers a gal could have. And a big shout out to all my friends in Romance Writers of Australia—you are inspiration and mentor rolled into a big ball of supportive writerly love. Thank you. The final people I have to thank are my agent, Alex Adsett—for believing in me and my work in the first place—and Kate Cuthbert at Escape, who took a chance on these books and brought new life to them. You both make me feel like I can shine. Thank you.
For my two boys, Jacob and Nathaniel, to remind them that every problem can be overcome with friendship, trust and love.
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...
Prologue
Edinburgh 1502
Morrigan stood on the rise looking down on the village that had once been her home. The panic that had been a clawing cold in her chest when she’d felt her sister’s fear now turned into something hot and bubbling.
Her face twisted as the torch lowered to the kindling surrounding the pyre that was Morghanna’s judgement. Murderers! She would not allow them to do this. They would not murder her beautiful, gentle sister, the woman who’d brought comfort and help to so many.
She lifted her hands and began to incant, drawing power.
‘No Morrigan.’ Morghanna’s voice, carried by the Goddess on the wind, sounded in her ear. ‘The Witch Finder will see you. Do not bring destruction upon yourself. Carry our line through the ages or all I have suffered will have been for nought.’
The power fell away. Morrigan’s hands dropped to her side. Devastation and grief pulled at her. How could she stand by and let this happen to the most beloved person in her life? Morghanna had been more than her sister. She had been mother after their mother’s powers had turned inward, ending her life in a cruel blaze. Morrigan seethed, a lifetime of obedience staying her hand. But it didn’t stay her rage. ‘This rabble, and the animals who did not protect you, will pay.’
‘No. My curse will make certain this happens to no other witch or warlock again.’
Morrigan shook her head. No curse could ever be enough to assuage her grief. Especially this one. She’d heard the curse. It would only kill off the pack responsible for her sister’s capture. But that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
‘Please, Morrigan. Listen to me. You are inviting the Darkness to you. Can you not feel it all around you? It is what we have fought off with the Pact. Please, do not allow it entry into your heart. I beg of you.’
The words ended on a cry of pain. Morrigan stumbled. Linked as she was to her sister, she could feel the terrifying heat, the smoke burning in her sister’s throat, making each breath an agony. Grief and rage tore through her.
In that moment, the Darkness crept forward—she could see it in the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t want to fight it. Not if it would help in her revenge. She reached out, inviting it in. It curled around her, its touch icy, soothing the burn, whispering along her skin, wrapping around her; a lover’s touch long denied. ‘They will pay for this. Everyone responsible, every man, woman and child taking delight in this horror, will feel each moment of terror and agony you endure.
‘No, Morrigan. It does not have to be like this.’
‘You are wrong. They sealed their fate the moment they laid hands on you.’
‘Then you give me no choice.’ Morghanna looked up to the heavens, her face soot-stained and twisted with pain, the heat and smoke of the building flames unbearable. ‘Please, my Goddess,’ she cried out. ‘End this now.’ There was no answer and as the flames licked her skin, Morghanna screamed.
‘Our Goddess has failed you,’ Morrigan cried. ‘I will not.’ She lifted her hands, despite her sister’s plea to not bring notice to her magic. The Darkness would protect her.
Before she could utter a word, light streamed from the heavens, surrounding Morghanna in a golden glow. Morghanna lifted her head, face glowing with an expression of such devotion and happiness that it brought an ache to Morrigan’s heart.
‘My Goddess would never forsake me. It is not
too late for you, either. Fill yourself with her light and love. Do not let the darkness have you.’ The light brightened, white and pure. The ropes tying her to the stake disintegrated to nothing and she lifted her hands, crying out to the stars above, ‘Save me.’
Flames exploded, whipping into a tornado that shot up into the sky. Screams sang out on the air as the mob fell away from the explosion of white-hot heat and flame.
Morrigan shielded her eyes from the flare. The force of the explosion shoved her back. She fell, tumbling up the hill. Then the wind died, the force dissipated and the light blinked out. Morrigan spun around, ready to run forward and pull her sister from the dead pyre before the villagers realised what had happened. But the pyre was nothing but ash. Morghanna was gone. ‘No!’ She fell to her knees, tearing at her hair, her clothes, rubbing dirt across her skin. Trembling, hot tears poured down her cheeks. She threw her head back and stared up at the sky. ‘Please, Goddess,’ she sobbed. ‘Take me too.’
There was silence. No peace or warmth touched her soul. Just the cool Darkness.
Grief wrapped around her, but not enough to dull the rage burning in her heart. She stood shakily and cried to the sky, ‘You have turned your back on me, my Goddess, so now I turn my back on you. Revenge will be mine. This I promise on the ashes of my beloved sister.’
In her mind, a voice pleaded with her not to take this step, but she ignored it, allowing the Darkness to snap out and silence it. She had no time for mercy. There was a job to do.
Looking down at the village, she lifted her hands and called power. A fae wind whirled, blowing her hair from her face. Dark clouds bloomed on the horizon. Lightning broke the gloom, lighting up the thatched roof of the church—the place of the trial; the place where they’d damned her sister.
Screams rose on the wind, lifting up to Morrigan, making the Darkness writhe in delight. She laughed, the sound whipped away on the wind, smothered by the crack of another bolt of lightning. It struck another building. More flames. Pushed by the wind, they flared, leaped to another building and another until the entire village was alight. People ran towards the nearby forest, seeking refuge. They would find none.
‘Hear my words, make them true
Never stop ‘til vengeance is through.
Three times three times three times three
So I say, so mote it be.’
She lifted her hands, directing her storm towards the forest. Lightning bolts blazed down until the sky was lit with the false dawn of licking flames.
Then the sky cracked with a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down to dampen the earth and the angry, flesh-seeking flames. It fell on Morrigan, sizzling on her cold skin. Lifting her face she screamed at the sky, ‘You are too late. They are already gone.’ She could feel it in her heart, the knowledge a balm to her soul. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but she laughed in the face of the power that had dampened her flames. She had taken her revenge. They were dead and there was no power in the heavens that could bring them back.
Hair plastered to her face, her dress now a sodden, muddy, torn mess, she turned her back on the destruction she’d wrought, a smile on her lips. Yet with every step the smile faltered as the Darkness whispered to her.
Destroying the villagers hasn’t made a difference. Morghanna is still gone and you are all alone, just as I have been alone these many years. The Darkness was right. Cold crept into her heart where her sister had always brought such warmth. She was alone.
You have lost everything. But you know who is to blame.
She nodded, her lip curling as she spat, ‘The Were.’
Make them pay. All of them. Take back what they stole from you and your people.
Yes.
I will help you to it. Find others who feel the same. Together, we will build a family to fight against those who have hurt us both.
She hugged her arms around her chest, stroking above her heart where the Darkness rested. She was not alone. A smile broke out on her face again and, grimly determined, she strode forward, listening to the whispers filling the empty place in her heart.
Chapter 1
River sat up, the breath exploding from his lungs as he opened his eyes to the semi-dark of the room he’d been given at the McVale packhouse. Images swam through his mind of Skye calling on moondust, forcing him to change. In the dream, rage swept through him. His hands wrapped around her throat, just like they had on that day so many years ago when they’d turned ten.
‘Fuck. Fuck.’ He took in a shaky breath, hand passing over his face to wipe the sick sweat away, brushing over the scars that were a constant reminder of that day. Skye hated herself for those scars. But if she hadn’t burned him, she’d be dead by his hands—and he could have never have lived with that. He loved her more than anything. She was his twin. The better part of him. Yet with the dream fresh in his mind, his skin tingling with remembered pain, he had trouble remembering that.
He threaded his shaking fingers into his shaggy hair, pressing against his skull, blowing out shallow, fast breaths. His heart felt like an oversized hummingbird trying to tear out of his chest. He ground his fist against it, willing it to slow. It didn’t do any good. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, he stood up, staggered, caught himself on the wall. His knees gave way and he fell to the floor, knocking over the bedside lamp and upending the table as he went. The noise reverberated through the room.
In the distance he heard a sharp cry, his name called. A door slammed.
Fuck!
Skye was coming. She’d felt him through the twin bond. But he couldn’t face her. Not now. Pushing to his feet, shaky, heart still beating frantically, he staggered over to the balcony door and wrenched it open. Night air hit his face, his naked chest, the scent of spring roses a lush caress covered in frost. He breathed it in, the coolness a sharp knife in his throat and nose. He didn’t care. The pain was a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside.
He’d tried to choke his sister to death all those years ago and right now, he was afraid he would do it again. His wolf howled and struggled inside him, tearing at him in its frustrated anger. River didn’t blame it. It just wanted to be free. But these feelings weren’t coming from his wolf. There was another force inside him: ravening, angry and strong. So strong. And it had been getting stronger since he’d woken from his drug-induced stupour.
Skye’s tread sounded near the door to his room, Jason’s less familiar tread close behind. River put his hands on the balcony and leaped despite the two-story height. He landed hard on the grass below, his knees and ankles protesting the impact. But he couldn’t stop to nurse the pain. They were already at his door, calling for him, banging to get in. Ignoring them, he rose from his sprawl and ran towards the park that beckoned at the edge of the garden.
Bare feet pounded on the hard ground. Stones and twigs dug into his soles. He didn’t care. Had to get away. He couldn’t face her. Not with those images swirling in his head. Not when his hands itched to wrap around flesh, crushing the life within. He was cursed. An animal made rabid because it was caught in a trap, unable to get free.
His wolf snarled at the other thing inside him, lashed with a claw that felt like it was ripping open his chest. He cried out, clutched at his ribs. He knew the sensation of being torn from throat to stomach wasn’t real, but Gods, it felt like it was. In his mind, his wolf was real. But he was the only one his wolf was real to. Nobody else had seen it for nineteen years, even though it had been howling and crying for attention, lashing out as its needs were ignored. Kept down by the drugs his grandmother fed him and ignored by his twin who blocked him off from their bond and shut from her mind all memory of their past that could have told her who he truly was.
That had changed in the last few days. She knew now. The spell woven around her, which had blocked her powers and memories, was gone. But she still didn’t remember everything. Much of what had happened before the accident was still locked away in her mind because of the trauma of losing their parents.
He would have liked to have blocked it out, too. But that moment lived large in his mind. It fed the angry thing inside him, trapping his wolf as if he was still on the drugs his grandmother had given him. The anger stood between them. An ugly monstrous thing. A Beast. He’d seen his reflection in a mirror the night before as Adam had carried him through the portal before he’d passed out. The sight had driven an agony of shame through him and his wolf.
Neither man nor wolf, it was a half thing.
He couldn’t be that. His wolf couldn’t be that. It was beautiful, its nature gentle and fun-loving. It gloried in the beauty all around, especially at home outside, with the heavy scents of freshly turned earth and the fresh green scents of plants, the sweet honey of pollen.
That’s who his wolf was. Who he was. Not this snarling angry thing, a thing made out of the fractured, tortured parts of himself and his wolf. That part had formed into a whole and it wanted to rip. To tear. To kill.
And it wanted out. Now.
His hands started to shift. Not the glorious, melting shift of the full change. This was agony, the bones crunching, ligaments popping as they reshaped themselves into claws. He came to a halt, half bent over, hands pressed to his middle, willing it to stop. But the tearing pain didn’t stop. His heart beat faster. His breath hitched in his throat. Fear. The thick sour taste of it in his mouth. No. He couldn’t half change. Not out here. Not feeling like this. He knew he wouldn’t have control over his actions if he did. He remembered what it had felt like when he’d changed in the cave, although his rage and need for blood had a focus then—Morrigan and her puppet, Alfrere Juneau. Alfrere had died at Jason’s hand before the dark warlock could rape Skye as part of the ritual to separate her from her powers and break the bond between witch and Were. But Morrigan …
She was still out there. He wanted to slash her jugular open with his teeth, shove his claws into her chest, tear her heart from her body and bathe in her blood. He wanted …
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