Moon Bound

by Leisl Leighton

  She shook her head, the pain in her eyes dissolving as joy lit their depths. ‘No. My desires are my own.’ And as if to prove it, she nuzzled up his throat, over his chin and then pressed her lips over his.

  ‘Bronwyn. This isn’t …’

  ‘Shhh.’ She put her fingers over his lips, cupping his face, holding him there with a strength that surprised him. ‘Don’t say this is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea. It’s the best idea. I want you. So much it hurts. I’ve never felt something as strong inside me before. It’s like if you’re not there, I’m only half of who I am meant to be.’ She frowned. ‘I dreamed you when I was little and held onto an idea of you that was only half formed. Until last night, I didn’t realise the meaning of what I felt for you.’ She leaned up, pressed her lips to his then leaned back enough to whisper, ‘But I know now. I see you and only you and I can’t imagine a time when I’ll see any different. And if I understand this mating thing, it only works if both parties are involved and are in total agreement with how they feel for the other. So, if I am your mate, that makes you mine.’

  ‘That only works for Were.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. It works for humans and witches too. I know it does.’

  ‘How can you know?’

  She brushed her fingers over his frown, smoothing over his skin, wiping away his concern with the soft caring touch that came from the heart of her. ‘Look at your parents. At Skye and Jason. Skye always felt drawn to Jason in a way that was inexplicable to her until she realised what it meant. She says it’s deeper than love. That she feels what he feels and he feels what she feels and that it feeds on itself until their emotions are intertwined and entangled.’ She smiled, her eyes misting over with some memory he knew was of his sister. ‘Shelley told her it didn’t sound at all like her to say she could only be whole with Jason—she’d always tried so hard to be her own person after the way your grandmother tried to rule her life—and I have to admit, it did seem strange to me.’ Her gaze cleared and she looked up at him. ‘But now, I think I understand. I am myself, but I’m also part of you, as you are part of me. You are a part of my soul I never knew was missing, but now I have it, I never want to do without it.’

  Her words were like claws tearing at his heart, making his wolf whimper and the Beast growl in triumph. He’d allowed himself to forget about the Beast, about what was happening to him in the bliss of holding her, of believing for one passion-infused night that she could be his. But he should never have forgotten. He was going to hurt her in the worst way and it killed something deep inside. He pulled away before she could see the pain reflected in his eyes.

  ‘River?’

  Her hand on his back stopped him from leaving the bed entirely. By the Moon, he was so tied to her already, even though the mating wasn’t fully completed, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

  The bed shifted behind him and then her arms wrapped around him, her lips pressed to his shoulder. ‘River? What is it?’

  He closed his eyes, wanting to savour the feeling of her, knowing he shouldn’t. This had already gone too far. If he’d known the second part of the mating would start so quickly, he would never have made love to her again this morning. But having lived outside of the pack for so long, he didn’t know the ins and outs of mating other than the basics. He’d never watched anyone but his sister go through it, and even then, it was through a drug-infused haze. He’d had no idea so much of it was driven by instinct.

  He would never forget sharing what he shared with Bronwyn, and there was a part of him that couldn’t regret it, but he couldn’t let her tie herself to him inexorably. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to her. Not when she would be the one left behind.

  Her small hand cupped his scarred cheek, shifting around to face him. He hated when people touched his scars, but not when she did. Opening his eyes, he drank in the sight of her. Her dark pixie haircut in disarray, her lips swollen from his kisses, her pink-tipped breasts swollen with her desire; the scent of that desire drifting on the air around him, tormenting him in ways he thought impossible.

  ‘River? What did I say? You seemed so happy and now …’ She bit her lip. ‘Are you regretting last night?’

  He gathered her into him, acceptance tearing him in half. The full moon was only a week away. The Beast was growing stronger and stronger inside him. He couldn’t meet that full moon. This was the last time he could hold her. Pressing his lips to her temple, he kissed her gently and whispered, ‘No. I will never regret last night—it was a gift I will never forget. But I can’t, in all good conscience, allow this to go any further.’

  She stiffened, her fingernails digging into his chest. ‘What do you mean? We’re mates. You can’t possibly deny that now?’

  ‘The mating isn’t complete. What we shared this morning—that was the second step. But for it to be fully functioning, there are still a couple more steps.’

  ‘The bond wine and declaration before the pack—I know. Let’s do them. I want to belong to you. I want you to belong to me.’

  ‘No.’

  She shot off his lap to stand before him, and even though she was gloriously naked, she still managed to have the bearing of a queen. His queen. She looked deep into his eyes. ‘You mean that.’

  He nodded. ‘I can’t cause you this pain.’

  ‘If you didn’t want to cause me pain, you shouldn’t have come to me last night.’

  ‘I know. It won’t happen again.’ Unable to stand the way she looked at him, he rolled over the other side of the bed and stood up. Where were his jeans? Finding them, he tugged them on, wincing as he pulled them over his still erect cock. He could feel her glare on his back. He turned to face her, then seeing her expression, looked away again. Fuck. He was such a coward. ‘Where’s my T-shirt?’

  She pointed to the end of the bed. ‘I think it’s torn.’

  The rawness in her voice made him wince inside. But he couldn’t show that pain, not to her. He shrugged. ‘It’s warm outside. I won’t need it.’ He wanted to leave, but she was standing on the other side of the bed between him and the door. Turning, he looked at the open window that led out to the garden he’d created just for her.

  ‘No!’ she yelled, seeming to read his mind. ‘I won’t let you do this, River. You can’t make love to me like you did last night, tell me we’re mates this morning and then run away. It doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘It has to,’ he bit out through clenched teeth.

  ‘Tell me why?’

  He threw his hands up, exasperated with her, with himself. Why couldn’t she understand? Why couldn’t he say the words that would release her?

  I don’t want you.

  But he couldn’t do it. They’d be a lie, and because they were mates and because she was so goddamned intuitive, she would know it. ‘I can’t let the mating continue because I can’t be responsible for hurting you.’

  ‘But you are hurting me. Right now in fact.’

  ‘Not as much as if I let the mating finish.’

  ‘What do you mean, River?’

  He heard her move. He stood still, trying to radiate a ‘don’t fucking touch me’ attitude, because if she touched him one more time, all his good intentions would be undone. It seemed to work. She stopped. Fists clenched, seemingly unaware of what she was doing to him. He couldn’t make himself look away. Her skin flushed under his regard. Her nipples hardened. He swallowed and pushed his hands into his sides. He couldn’t touch her. He wouldn’t.

  ‘Is this about you being scarred? About not being able to turn into a wolf? Because if it is, I don’t care about that. And if you think I do, then you don’t know me very well.’

  ‘I know none of that matters to you. When you look at me, I know you don’t see my scars and for the first time in a long time, they don’t matter to me like they always have. But I wish you did see them. I wish the reason I have them frightened you. It would make this so much easier. Because it does matter. I am broken, Bronwyn, and you dese
rve so much better.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. No. You don’t have to be broken. I can heal you. I’m so close.’

  ‘Not close enough.’

  ‘Okay, so, maybe I won’t have healed you by this next moon, but we can try again after. Jason will keep you locked up—’

  ‘It won’t be enough.’

  She blanched. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  Her cinnamon eyes, full of unshed tears again, implored him. He tried to hold it back, the words that would destroy them, but he couldn’t. Not when she looked at him like that. ‘I’m dying, Bronwyn.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, vehement. ‘No. I would have seen that. Would have felt that.’

  He squared his jaw against the fear, the tears in her voice. ‘No. You wouldn’t. Not this. I’ve been dying for years.’ He glanced away. He couldn’t watch the anguish crumbling her certainty. ‘Maybe, if the Were had found us earlier and released Skye’s powers, things might not be so bad for me now. Maybe it would never have made any difference. Something happened to me the night my parents were murdered and I’ve never felt right since.’

  ‘But you weren’t truly affected by the Curse because you are Skye’s twin and you were always with her.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with the Curse.’

  ‘You’re talking about what the rogue coven did to you? But I’ve been working on that. The schism between you and your wolf, the Darkness I can see in between. I think I can …’

  He slashed the air between them with his hand. ‘No. It’s too late. There’s nothing you can do. There never was. The Darkness isn’t just in me, it’s a part of me. It’s been there for too long and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from taking over. The Beast is growing in strength all the time and very soon, he is all I will be.’

  ‘River, no!’

  ‘That’s why I never wanted you to try to heal me, because I knew it was useless, because I knew the failure would hurt you and I didn’t want to be responsible for that. My death will tear a hole in the pack, and I was trying to make that hole as small as possible. That’s why I pulled away, why I couldn’t let myself be a part of anything. Why I should never have touched you and started this. But what is done is done and all I can do now is to stop it from going any further.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ She stepped forward, reached for him.

  He darted away. ‘Please, Bronwyn, don’t touch me. It will just make this harder.’

  ‘Nothing will make this harder. You’re saying you don’t want to be a part of my life, that you don’t want me to be a part of yours. How can that be anything but soul tearing?’

  River looked up at the ceiling, the strength of his wants, his needs, pushing him to reach for her. He fought them with every last ounce of his control. ‘It would be so much worse if our mating completed. I am degenerating. I can feel it in every fibre of my being. And I can’t make you feel the pain of that with me. I can’t have you becoming a target when I turn rabid. I can’t make Jason responsible for taking me down. I’ll kill myself first.’

  ‘No!’ Her scream shattered the air and her hands were on him, holding his face as she pressed her body against his. ‘No. I won’t let you.’ He felt the warmth of her healing power in her hands.

  The thing that was wrong inside him—the dark, insidious thing tearing him in two, the thing that would kill everything he was—slashed out at her. With a cry, she fell back.

  ‘Bronwyn.’ He reached for her, but the thing inside him writhed and pulsed under his skin, turning his vision momentarily dark. For a moment, it was like he was caught in the hell of a half change, the room drenched in the red of rage, his hands reaching out to hurt, to squeeze the breath from her little, insignificant body.

  ‘River?’ Fear filled her eyes as she stared up at him.

  The fear made the Darkness inside happy. The sensation snapped him from the rage that always seemed at the heart of him. Swallowing hard, he took a step back. ‘It’s good you fear me. You should.’

  ‘I don’t fear you. I fear for you. River, please listen to reason—’

  ‘No. You need to listen.’ He wanted to touch her, soothe her, tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn’t. ‘I have to leave,’ he snarled. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. But it won’t go any further. I’ll free you from me. I promise.’

  ‘No!’

  Her scream followed him as he leapt out the window and ran. He intended to run as far away from her as possible, as far away from the pack as he could get. Then he would do what he should have done the night after Halloween when he realised what was happening to him. Only then would Bronwyn be safe. Only then would she be free to be who she was always meant to be. It was his presence holding her back.

  He would kill himself. It was the only way.

  He heard the pop just before he felt the slapping sting in his shoulder; something like a mosquito bite that had the impact of a punch. He lost his stride and stumbled forward onto his hands and knees, dirt and pebbles tearing at his palms. Dizziness swam through his head, oxygen screamed in and out of his lungs like he was trying to breathe through soup. He crashed onto his shoulder and rolled over onto his back, staring at the bright sun overhead.

  He heard Iain’s cry behind him, followed by another pop, a grunt of surprise, a sharp exclamation followed by the crash of something heavy a few metres away.

  The sound of laboured breathing—his and Iain’s—wasn’t enough to cover up the sound of footsteps closing in, crunching over gravel. They stopped. Through swimming vision, River saw the outline of someone standing over him, the glow of the sun creating a glowing nimbus around them, their face obscured in the shadows.

  ‘No,’ River managed to whisper. ‘Don’t stop me.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t intend to stop you. I intend to hurry you along.’

  Shock shivered through River, his breath hitched as he mumbled, ‘Morrigan.’

  Morrigan didn’t answer. She just turned and gestured behind her. Others—two large men—appeared beside her. ‘Bring him. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to help us now.’ She bent closer so that he saw her face—the face of his grandmother, yet younger. ‘You and I are going to break the pact and destroy those who should have been destroyed centuries ago.’

  ‘No,’ River said, struggling to get away. But he couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. His heart beat a loud, fast drum in his chest, echoing in his head. He tried to fight the effect of whatever drug had been shot into him, but it was no use. As the men bent over him, he saw Morrigan turn, saw her cold smile.

  Everything went dark.

  Chapter 20

  Eloise—in cat form—yawned and stretched in the patch of sun coming through the window behind her. Her sore shoulder twinged, but it was much better than it had been the day before, thanks to River and Shelley’s ministrations. Skye had made her such a comfy bed and had fed her some yummy smoked salmon for breakfast and then some roast chicken for lunch. She was very tempted to sleep again. But that wasn’t what she was here for. She was supposed to be watching the Were and their witches, to report back to Morrigan anything useful they might be able to use.

  An uncomfortable twinge tightened around her heart and jagged low in her belly. Guilt? No. It couldn’t be. Despite River and Skye and Shelley’s kindness yesterday in taking care of her, she knew what the Were were—what they had done. And yet it was difficult to equate what Morrigan had told her of them with what she saw before her.

  The air was filled with scents of baking mince pies, pine needles and dust from the boxes of Christmas decorations on the floor and the kitchen island bench. Jason and Skye were standing by the kitchen island, Jason behind Skye, his arms around her, his face buried in the curve of her neck, nuzzling, as she sorted through the decorations. She was giggling. Eloise couldn’t make herself look away. How could the witch stand to be that close to him? Wasn’t she afraid he’d bite her? Tear out her jugular? He was a wild animal after al
l. That’s what Morrigan called them. Yet she seemed to like it.

  Morrigan is wrong.

  She shook her head against the whisper in her head. What the hell was wrong with her? Perhaps being a cat so long was making her lose her mind. Although she didn’t feel insane. She’d just have to try to hold steady against whatever it was. She probably wasn’t reading their relationships right. She jumped onto the couch to get a better view and wake herself up, nestling between strings of green, gold and red tinsel draped there. Kneading the tinsel and couch cushions with her paws, she watched them, unable to peel her gaze away from their interaction.

  There was no fear between them. No subservience. Only friendship and trust. And love. Perhaps these Were were different from the Were Morrigan knew? Or they were just extremely good at subterfuge.

  Stop it! Listen. Report. That’s what you’re here for. Not to go soft. Alfrere was too soft and look what happened to him. She really had to finish her task and get out of here. The longer she spent in this house, the more she found herself questioning things she’d never questioned before. Perhaps that was the true danger—the charm of the Were.

  Her musing was interrupted when Shelley ran into the room, Adam sauntering in just behind her. She paused and then made her way over to Skye and Jason, who had turned at her entry, and slammed a diary down on the bench. ‘We have a problem.’

  Eloise came on instant alert—had Shelley discovered what Morrigan was up to?

  ‘What? More than the problem of a homicidal ancient witch out for revenge against all Were-kind?’ Adam said as he perched against the edge of the table behind her.

  Shelley shot him a look that would have withered a lesser man. He just flashed her a smile, which seemed to aggravate her further. ‘Can you please be serious?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ve never really tried. But for you, Kitten …’

  ‘Adam!’ The Alpha in Jason’s tone made Adam snap to attention and Eloise’s fur ruffle. He was so … commanding. He could so easily make others subservient to him. Yet, despite the fact that Adam stopped making wisecracks, he didn’t stop smiling. He wasn’t cowed at all.