Moon Bound

by Leisl Leighton

  River shook his head, trying to rid himself of the horrifying thoughts assaulting his mind. Killing anyone, even someone as deserving of death as Morrigan, went against everything he believed in. And he knew his wolf agreed. Lifting his head, he howled his defiance at the moon.

  Oh Gods! The moon. The waning moon. The last day of the full moon cycle. The Beast surged forward at the beckoning of the moon. Violence threaded through River’s thoughts. No! He shook his head, gritted his teeth and pushed back the ugly, seething thoughts. He had to go back. No matter his need to be alone, he needed to return to Jason and tell his Alpha to lock him up.

  Freedom—the one thing he and his wolf had always craved—slipped from his grasping hand again. He might be free of the drugs, but he was still caged by his cursed nature.

  Claws clenched, he turned and ran back towards the house, trying to ignore the snarl of rage from the Beast. It took everything in him to fight it. The Beast kept pushing forward, make him change direction. To hunt. To kill. To feel the warm rush of blood as it sunk its teeth into flesh.

  ‘No!’

  The Beast snarled again and River felt the muscles of his face pulling, elongating, bones groaning under the pressure as he fought the change. Fought for control of his body. The waning moon glowed down on him, making a mockery of his efforts to wrestle with centuries of conditioning.

  ‘River.’ River’s head snapped up. Skye. She was calling to him, still some distance away, but her voice was clear to his Were hearing. ‘River. Come home.’

  The image from his memory-dream snapped into his mind and he stopped. His wolf howled as the Beast pushed it aside, the ferociousness of its hatred overriding the love River and his wolf felt for his sister.

  She could have helped before it was too late, but she never did. She never listened.

  ‘She couldn’t,’ River gritted out, trying to fight the hatred that was the Beast. ‘She was under a spell.’

  The Beast snarled, its contempt sliding into River like a saw-toothed knife.

  ‘River! Please. Let us help.’

  The snarling was cut off by a choked laugh. Help? Now she wanted to help? It was too late to help him. Didn’t she realise that? Didn’t she know?

  ‘Please, River. Don’t cut me out. Not when we’ve just got our twin bond back.’

  He heard her feet now, pounding on the ground. Others were with her. Were in human and wolf form.

  No! He couldn’t see Skye when he longed to choke the breath from her. He began to run, the Beast pushing painfully at his flesh, longing to dance in the light of the moon. River gritted his jaw until it ached, curled his talons into his hands until they cut his flesh. He couldn’t change. He wouldn’t.

  Flesh. Blood. The perfume of sweat-scented skin. The panted breaths of a jogger. Sneaker-clad feet beating a rhythm on the path to his right, an even more enticing rhythm fluttering behind the sound—heartbeat. The Beast stilled inside him, then with a howl, burst through his skin.

  River fell. Skin tore on his knees and hands as he hit the earth. The stinging pain was nothing compared to the agony of his limbs and ligaments stretching. Hair sprouted from his skin, his face pushed out, lips thinned, teeth turned into razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t make a sound; the agony stole his breath, choking him.

  Then it stopped.

  He drew in a deep shuddering breath. The wolf in his mind pushed for prominence. But it couldn’t get out. The Beast was in the way. The Beast scented the prey. Its nose twitched as it drank in the mouth-watering scents. Before River could protest, the Beast was in his limbs and he was off.

  The jogger was nearby. Musky cologne over sweat: a man. Faint music tinkled in the air from the jogger’s earbuds. The sound and scent guided him to his prey.

  Just up ahead.

  He could see him now, the straight line of his back, the muscles of his legs and arms, sweat glistening in the moonlight. Warm. He could almost taste the heat of exertion on those muscles. Delicious—salted meat.

  The wolf took prey from behind, quick and clean. But the Beast wanted to skirt around, to be seen, leaping as terror shot through the prey, adrenaline surging, making the blood so very sweet as teeth sank into shoulder and neck, tearing out the jugular. It wasn’t Morrigan, but it would do for now. It would lap of this blood tonight. It would taste good. With a low growl, it drew closer.

  ‘River, no.’

  Jason tackled him to the ground.

  The Beast rolled with the impact, disentangling itself from the giant silver and gold wolf, and found its feet, coming up into a half crouch with a snarl.

  The sound of the runner’s feet slapping the hard path disappeared over the rise. The Beast turned. It couldn’t let the prey get away. It was hungry. It needed to feast as it hadn’t been able to feast for years.

  The gold and silver wolf crouched, ready to spring again.

  The Beast growled. Lips pulled away from fangs, claw swiping. The gold and silver wolf, the Alpha, sprang aside.

  ‘River. No.’

  That voice reverberated in its head again, pulling at the man inside the Beast. It tried to shake off the command’s influence. Now that the Alpha was no longer standing in the way, the Beast could see that the runner had almost disappeared, the music channelled through the earbuds making him oblivious to death stalking so close behind. The prey wasn’t going to get away. The Beast leapt up the path.

  ‘River. Stop.’

  Those half parts that made the Beast, man and wolf, wanted to obey.

  ‘River. I command you. Stop.’

  Muscles spasmed, quivered. But the Alpha command didn’t have the influence it would normally have on a Were. The Beast was not truly Were. It could fight it, if only it could hold on. But the man and wolf inside were fighting too, spurred on by the Alpha command and the twin bond. Its movements slowed under their combined force. The Beast howled. The prey was getting away! It tore at the fetters of the bond, struggling free, leapt forward towards the warm flesh a hundred metres ahead of him.

  ‘River.’

  Every muscle quivered at the sound of that sweet voice; the only voice with the capability of stopping the man and wolf in their tracks. The shock of it stopped the Beast too.

  River surged forward, enough to grasp a little control. Breath tight in his chest, in his throat, he turned to face the source of that voice.

  Bronwyn emerged from the woods at the base of the rise, panting hard, with Skye, equally breathless, at her side.

  ‘River, please.’ His sister. He growled. Bronwyn raised her hand, stepping in front of Skye.

  ‘Bron, no. He’s not himself. He might hurt you.’ Skye reached out, grabbing Bronwyn’s arm.

  River quivered with rage that someone else would put their hands on Bronwyn. She was his. Snarling, he snapped his teeth together, his muscles bunched to leap.

  ‘No. He’s there. Can’t you feel him?’ Bronwyn moved beyond Skye’s reach. ‘River, please, let me help.’

  He quivered in place, confused. His Bronwyn wanted to help. He knew she was his. Had known it the moment he opened his eyes and saw her standing there looking down at him the night before. It was a knowing that sank its claws deep into his soul, and no matter how much he longed to deny it, it wouldn’t shake free.

  She belonged to him. Yet she could never belong to him.

  He looked down at his clawed hands, the fur standing erect on his arms. He wasn’t whole. He was dangerous. And yet she was here, walking towards him, compassion in her eyes despite the fear he could smell on her, the fear he could hear in the fast-paced patter of her heart, her short, sharp breaths as she tried to calm her breathing after her desperate run.

  ‘Don’t come near me,’ he growled. ‘I might hurt you.’

  ‘You didn’t hurt me last night. You won’t hurt me now,’ she said, moving closer. ‘Let us help.’

  ‘Yes, River. Let us help.’ The Alpha voice suddenly had more sway, backed up with the plea of the woman who would have been his mate if Morri
gan and her rogue Coven hadn’t intervened in his life. A growl burst to life in his throat, but the blood-slavering viciousness of before was gone.

  ‘It’s working, Jason. Keep doing whatever you’re doing.’

  ‘That’s right, River. Just back down and let us help.’

  River almost choked on a laugh. They thought Jason’s Alpha command was making the difference. They were wrong. Bronwyn had almost reached him. A black wolf appeared at her side, pushing in front of her. She reached out to pat his head. ‘It’s okay, Adam. River won’t hurt me.’

  Adam’s wolf nudged at her leg.

  River snarled at the black wolf. He didn’t like how close it was to Bronwyn. Didn’t like the way she touched Adam, that gentle stroke across ruffled fur that spoke of familiarity, friendship … love?

  Fuck!

  The thought was a jagged tear in his heart. He gasped out a pained breath.

  ‘He’s hurting. Jason, quick.’ Bronwyn turned to wave the gold and silver wolf forward. ‘I can see it. The damage to his aura is worse in this form than in his human one. It’s covered in darkness.’

  There was a shower of golden-rainbow glow and then Jason stood before him. Bronwyn didn’t spare his nakedness a second glance as she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. ‘I need you to touch River.’

  ‘Can you force him to change?’

  She nodded at Skye’s question. ‘I can, like I did last night. But I couldn’t do it without help. That darkness in his aura fights me. Healing him through pack-touch was the only thing that worked last night. I think it’s the only thing that will work now.’

  Jason nodded and let her guide him. Skye appeared just beyond his shoulder.

  River couldn’t look at her. He no longer wished to hurt her, but he was ashamed of how he had felt and was so terribly afraid she would be able to read those thoughts from his mind.

  ‘Oh, River,’ Skye whispered, her voice trembling.

  ‘Don’t,’ he managed through a throat raw with banked violence. He stood tall, towering over even his Alpha in this form, his moonlit shadow cast long on the ground, a grotesque melding of beast and man. He closed his eyes against the sight and said, ‘Help.’

  Jason’s warm hand splayed over his chest. His wolf surged forward, writhing under the exquisite rightness of his Alpha’s touch. But there was another touch it longed for more.

  Bronwyn reached to place her hand next to Jason’s. The Beast snarled. She recoiled as if she’d been burned.

  ‘Bron? Are you all right?’ Skye grabbed Bronwyn’s shoulder, but she shrugged from the touch.

  ‘I’m fine. The darkness lashed out. It doesn’t want me to touch him.’ She stared at him, her eyes on the spot where Jason’s hand was splayed over his chest. Then she smiled and reached forward again. ‘If I can just …’

  He tried to cry out a warning, but the Beast was in his throat again and snarled a warning. She didn’t listen. Trembling, River did all he could to rope the Beast in, the violence inside him urging him to do horrible things as Bronwyn stepped closer.

  She didn’t touch him. She placed her hand over Jason’s and slipped into the warm rightness of his Alpha touch. He shuddered as the Beast tried to surge forward again, but something stopped it. It was tethered, pushed back by the warmth, the glow of her as she reached inside him through the Alpha link.

  The warmth melted through him and he gave himself over to it. And as his wolf and his mind accepted the healing warmth, he saw something in the sweet happiness she used to push the Beast aside. Something deep at her core that she didn’t even let her best friends see. But he saw it. Felt it. And as she sent her healing glow into him, he knew deep in his soul that he knew her better than anyone had ever known her before. He felt that kernel of pain and mistrust of herself deep inside. She had a flaw, his mate. And she was ever the more perfect because of it.

  He felt his grotesque wolf lips pull up into something like a smile. There was hope in her future. That would have to be enough.

  ‘I think it’s working,’ he heard Skye whisper and knew she was right. The terrible grinding, snapping pain as his limbs contracted made him want to cry out. But he held it in, even as the patches of fur dissolved from his skin in a heated, hurtful parody of the golden glow of the Were change. His eyes watered, heart pounded under the stress, nostrils flared as he tried to breathe. His legs trembled, but he held on, kept himself upright through force of will.

  He would not be weak before his pack. More of them had arrived to witness his torment. He could hear them, smell them, see their glowing eyes staring at him out of the dark. He wished they’d go away. Hadn’t he kept himself together all these years without any of them? He didn’t need them. Didn’t need any of them.

  ‘River, are you okay?’ The tears in Skye’s voice almost undid him. As the grinding pain in his face came to an end, and he knew the change had finished, he managed to nod.

  Jason’s hand left his skin. The warm imprint turned quickly cold, but he didn’t miss it. He missed the sweet glow that had come through that hand from Bronwyn. He longed to feel her hand on his flesh. Longed to have it stroke over him, bringing bliss, chasing the remnants of pain and fear and violence away. But he couldn’t have that and he had to stop thinking about wanting it. He took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the sweat prickling his skin, cold in the spring night air.

  ‘River. Thank God you’re back. Thank you, Bron.’

  He opened his eyes, saw Skye reach for him. ‘Don’t.’ He stepped back. The pain in her eyes stabbed at him. He gentled his expression. ‘I just need a moment, okay? My wolf is riding me hard.’ It was a lie. A necessary one. They could never know what this had cost him.

  His wolf whimpered, ashamed of what it had nearly done. Not you, he whispered to it. Me. It was me. He felt the wolf’s denial. It wouldn’t let him take the burden alone. We can’t let it happen again. The wolf agreed. River turned to Jason. ‘You need to lock me up.’

  ‘River, no,’ Skye protested. ‘We’ve only just got you out of that cage of drugs Grandma had you in. You can’t think I’d let that happen again? I w …’

  ‘It isn’t your choice. It’s mine.’

  ‘I won’t do what your grandmother did to you,’ Jason said. ‘Don’t ask me to do that.’

  ‘The drugs my grandmother gave me just suppressed what was growing inside.’

  ‘They caused the fracture,’ Skye insisted.

  He shook his head. ‘No. Maybe, in the long run, they made it worse, but that fracture was caused by something else. Or else I would never have hurt Skye when we were ten. Grandmother knew I couldn’t live with myself if I did that again. She loved me enough to know that. So she caged me and my wolf with the drugs.’ He flexed his fingers. ‘But I’m drug free now and I almost killed someone tonight. You can’t put me through that again.’

  ‘But you didn’t kill someone. You stopped. Jason stopped you.’ He could see she wanted to touch him. ‘I’ve just got you back, River. I don’t want to lose you again.’

  ‘You might not have any choice. If I can’t control the Beast, then I will kill. Do you want to let me be a killer?’

  ‘No! Don’t talk like that, River. Please.’

  ‘One of us has to be realistic. There’s something broken inside me. If I can’t change in full, I’ll go rabid. And Jason will have to hunt me down and kill me.’

  ‘No!’ She turned, gripped her mate’s arm. ‘Jason wouldn’t do that. He’d find another way.’ Jason didn’t say anything, but his gaze was too full of the truth for him to hide it. ‘No!’ she cried, letting him go, her hands clutching over her heart.

  River couldn’t bear to see her anguish. He reached out to touch her face, his hand trembling with the strength it took to be gentle right now. ‘You never saw me for what I truly am and you’re not seeing it now.’

  ‘I am.’ She reached up to press his hand more firmly to her cheek. ‘You’re strong. So strong. It’s you who doesn’t see yourself clearly. You’ve held
on for all these years. Can’t you hold on a little longer? We’ll find a cure. We started looking through the diaries today. Shelley and Bron and I. We’ll study and learn and Bron will learn about her healing abilities and we’ll find a way. Won’t we, Bron?’

  Bronwyn didn’t answer. They all turned and saw the slight healer leaning against the big black wolf, her face pale, shadows like bruises under her eyes. And those eyes—the cinnamon irises were almost swallowed by the black of her pupil as she stared at them blankly.

  ‘Bron?’ Jason said.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Skye asked.

  Bronwyn’s gaze shifted to them, unfocused. She wobbled and gave a faint, drunken smile. ‘I’mokay. Jushtoomushpower.’ She crumpled.

  River caught her before she hit the ground. He pulled her against his chest, revelling in the feel of her weight in his arms while worry skated through his veins like cold fire. ‘Bronwyn,’ he whispered.

  She looked up at him and smiled again. ‘River.’ Her eyes rolled up, her head fell back.

  ‘Bron?’ Skye was at his side, her voice shaking and high.

  River shifted Bronwyn so that her head lay on his shoulder.

  ‘She just passed out.’ Jason came up behind Skye and hugged her. ‘She channelled an incredible amount of power into River just then. I felt it flow through me.’

  ‘You should have stopped her,’ River snapped.

  Jason’s electric blue eyes were dark with sincerity as he said, ‘I would have if I’d known another way, but for now, that seems to be the only way to bring you back from the edge.’

  ‘Not the only way,’ River growled. He began to stalk back down the path he’d hunted on only a few minutes earlier.

  ‘I won’t lock you up. Not while you’re lucid,’ Jason called behind him. ‘That won’t help you or your wolf.’

  ‘Fine,’ River snarled, turning around to pierce his Alpha with a glare. ‘But you will need to keep a guard on me, because I can’t guarantee how long this lucidity will last. And during the full moon cycle, you will lock me up. If you don’t, I’ll do it myself. This can never happen again.’