Iron Moon

by Jenny Phillips

  “He’s comatose. At least until we,” her eyes flicked to me, “can figure out a way to counter Georgina’s spell. Until then, I think our best bet is to prevent you all from shifting. No matter what, you cannot transform into your werewolf selves.”

  “Why not?” Nick pressed.

  Ivy gave him a distasteful stare. “Because Georgina messed up the spell when she used you instead of Harlow. I don’t know what will happen to any of you if you shift now.”

  “How will we manage that?” Sloan asked gravely. “We can’t outsmart the curse, you know that. It will take hold.”

  “I’ll find a spell to repress it,” Ivy said. “I promise.”

  A long silence fell over the kitchen. Then, “This is all your fault!” Nick shouted, pointing an accusatory finger in my direction. “What are you even still doing here?”

  “What? That's not fair,” I argued.

  “Nick, don’t,” Sloan murmured from beside him.

  Nick stepped forward to face me, his expression hard and dangerous. “You know what's not fair, Rayna,” Nick responded his tone brimming with anger, “look around. Look what's happened and who knows what will happen to the rest of us! And do you know whose fault this is? Yours. You dropped the necklace. You sealed our fate and my brother's. Who knows what will happen to him now—”

  My unafraid facade started to slip just as Sloan pressed a hand to Nick’s chest, silencing him “Nick that's enough,” she said, her tone calm and even.

  Shaking his head, Nick said, “I can't deal with this,” and stalked out of the kitchen. A moment later the front door slammed shut and the kitchen fell silent again.

  Filled with guilt, my head began to spin and I grabbed the edge of the counter to steady myself as the rest of the group picked up in conversation. Sloan suggested hunting Georgina down with a locator spell.

  Ivy immediately shut her down. “Georgina is too smart and too powerful to allow herself to be found by such a simple spell. Especially now.”

  “What if I forced myself to shift?” Dean offered.

  Ivy proceeded to call him crazy. “Yeah, and for all we know you'll end up right there on the table next to Blake, or worse,” she said matter-of-factly, pointing to their motionless friend.

  As someone who was relatively new to the supernatural world, I didn’t have much to contribute. I felt useless. Helpless even. All I could think about was Harlow in the woods somewhere, alone. Did he even know what was happening? With so many people arguing in the Payne kitchen, the room grew stifling and I needed some fresh air.

  Staying on the outskirts of the room, I walked quietly to the back door and slipped outside. Securing the door behind me, I leaned against the side of the house and tilted my head back, releasing a deep sigh.

  How did we get to this point? It was still hard to believe Harris harbored so much anger and resentment that he would stoop to hurting innocent people. And somewhere along the way, I'd gotten tangled up in the thick of it. It was hard to imagine that Lacey could have easily found herself in my shoes, but fate or the universe had other plans and stuck me in this ever-evolving nightmare. And in a strange sort of way, I was glad for it.

  Movement in the distance removed me from my thoughts. At the far end of the yard, a figure emerged from the tree line.

  A wolf—Harlow!

  My heart raced so fast I thought it might fly out of my chest. The Harlow-wolf approached the house cautiously, his eyes fixed on me, head hung low, and ears pulled back—the signs of an animal ready to attack. Considering our last interaction, I should have sprinted back inside. But something in my gut told me not to. Instead, I waited for him to approach.

  The wolf stopped feet from me, staring.

  I stilled, afraid any movement from me might spook him away.

  The wolf advanced carefully until he was close enough for me to reach out and touch. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

  The Harlow-wolf bared his teeth and a low growl escaped him.

  I didn’t flinch away, determined to stand my ground and show him that I wasn't afraid. Slowly, I put out my hand. He growled again and I flinched, my hand still extended. The Harlow-wolf tilted his head curiously, sniffing my hand with caution. When his expression softened, I carefully reached out to touch him. He made no move to object and I hesitantly stroked the bridge of his nose.

  Behind me, the back door slid open. “Rayna, what—” Ivy stopped mid-sentence. The backyard going silent again.

  Harlow looked over my shoulder at Ivy, then back to me. My hand still rested right above his snout. A moment passed and I heard Ivy utter a foreign word. In response Harlow’s head slouched into my arms, fast asleep.

  Back in the house, Nick laid Harlow on the blankets I had dropped on the floor earlier. I kneeled beside the sleeping wolf, tears welling up in my eyes. "How did he know to come here?” I asked.

  Ivy pondered my question. “I think he can sense Blake. Since he’s mid-transition, Harlow can probably pick up on Blake's distress. That might explain why he was drawn here. Rayna, I’ve never seen a werewolf behave like that with a human. How did you do it?”

  “I'm not sure,” I shrugged honestly. Harlow warned me once that werewolves could be unpredictable, and had it been any other wolf, I wouldn’t have been so bold. But having that moment with Harlow provided me with some much-needed comfort, so I was glad we shared it.

  “Can you change him back?” I asked, wiping the corners of my eyes.

  “I can try.” Ivy paused before meeting my gaze again, “But I’m not promising anything.”

  “I understand,” I said, getting to my feet.

  Turing to everyone in the room she said, “Brace yourselves.” Ivy crouched down in front of the wolf. Placing her hand on the floor, she began to mutter in Latin and as she did the kitchen began to rattle and vibrate. When it stopped, Ivy stood. “It didn’t work,” she announced, noticeably upset.

  “What do you mean it didn’t work?” I pressed, advancing on her. Fear taking hold of my emotions as the thought of losing Harlow set in.

  “I mean I can’t help him. I can’t reverse the transition.” Ivy looked helplessly at her hands.

  I looked from Ivy to the Harlow-wolf and back to Ivy again. “Try again,” I demanded, my voice low and angry.

  Ivy’s sad expression moved to me now. “I can’t, Rayna. I did warn you.”

  “Well, you have to do something, Ivy! Bring him back,” I yelled, my voice breaking, as hot, angry tears rolled down my cheeks. I took a step toward Ivy and Sloan grabbed me, blocking my path. “Bring him back!” I shouted again, slumping, defeated, into Sloan’s arms.

  one month later...

  MY LIFE. FELT MUNDANE WITHOUT HARLOW IN IT

  these last few weeks. And I’d been struggling to adjust back to the way things had been before him. I saw Harbor Glenn under a different lens now. A place chock-full of hidden magic, legend, and the supernatural; making it easier said than done to forget everything I knew.

  I sighed, unloading the books I didn’t need for the weekend’s homework and slammed the door shut, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. As I walked down the hall, as I’d done every weekday for the last four weeks, my heart fluttered at the sight of someone standing at Harlow’s locker. Until I realized it was Andrew Pace, who had taken over the coveted locker position. My eyes dropped to the floor and I continued making my way out of the school.

  Everyone at school was under the impression that Harlow had earned enough credits to graduate early and was now back in New Brunswick. Days after our confrontation with Harris and Georgina, Nick made the executive decision to cover Harlow’s absence by having him graduate early. The only hiccup was that Harlow had missed the December application deadline. So Nick waltzed into the main office of the high school and used his Payne charm to convince the woman in charge of applications that there had been a mistake.

  “Rayna!” my sister called, trotting up behind me. “Wait up!”

  “Hey, Sis,” I
regarded her.

  “I see they gave Harlow’s locker to someone else,” she said conversationally. After a pause, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” For a second, it seemed like Dalyn was genuinely worried about me.

  “Yeah, Dalyn, I’m sure.” From across the parking lot, I briefly locked eyes with Ivy and she promptly looked away. We hadn’t spoken at any real length since everything that went down that night. For the first week or so she tried to keep me informed as much as possible on the Harlow front, but as time wore on, Ivy’s updates were few and far between. As for the rest of the group, we hadn’t spoken at all. Nick had made it all too clear that I was not welcome in the Payne household, so in turn, I avoided them all. Despite Ivy’s best efforts, Harlow remained trapped in his wolf form. Blake was still comatose while Ivy worked to reverse whatever spell Georgina had blasted him with. Unrelenting guilt hung over me every day knowing that he’d taken that bullet for me.

  In my last brief conversation with Ivy, she told me that she did manage to write a spell to delay the effects of the werewolf transition, but it was a temporary fix and she couldn’t be sure how long it would last.

  Things at school had resumed as normal. Though I dreaded walking into French class every day. Seeing Harlow’s empty desk in the back corner of the room served as a constant reminder of the events of that night, one month ago. Not to mention the classroom itself made me cringe inwardly every time I took my seat. And there was a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder where Harris was now and if Georgina was with him. If he would be back, or if he was off tracking another werewolf pack somewhere else. The police weren’t looking for him anymore because there was no proof of his guilt. We had a new French teacher now, Mr. Gehl. Dalyn often rambled on about how jealous she was that I had him for a class, since he was now “the hottest teacher in school.” For once I was glad my sister was so chatty. It distracted me from thinking about never seeing Harlow again.

  Once we’d made it home, I trudged upstairs to my room. Slumping down against the wall behind my closed bedroom door, barefoot, my feet flush against the carpet. My mouth set in a frown as I stared out at my room with a vacant mind.

  My bedroom door opened a crack and I held up my hand to prevent the door from colliding with my knees. “Rayna?” My mom’s voice was a breath in the doorway. “Are you all right?” She leaned in, peering around the door at me.

  My skin prickled at her question in a way I hadn’t expected. “I miss Harlow,” I whimpered, tears staining my cheeks.

  A look of confusion crossed my mom’s face. “I know, honey, but he’s with his family. I’m sure he’ll be back to visit.

  My heart sank to the floor. If only she knew the truth. We both sat in silence for a short while before my mom said, “Well, I came up here to tell you that dinner will be ready soon, but if you want to have Lacey and Arianna over tonight instead, I’d be happy to order a pizza.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I sniffed, wiping my eyes.

  My mom gave my knee a gentle pat as she stood. “Come down when you’re hungry.” And with that, she shut the door behind her and headed back downstairs.

  Later that night, after I couldn’t possibly shed another tear, I crawled into bed well aware that there were no guarantees as far as Harlow’s situation was concerned—or Blake’s, or the packs for that matter. But I had to keep reminding myself that all hope was not lost. Ivy would find a way—she had to.

  And if Harlow’s world had taught me anything, it was to believe in the impossible. And still, I couldn’t help but feel a hole in my chest where Harlow used to be. Sitting up in bed, I clutched Harlow’s family pendant where it hung around my neck. The iron gradually warmed against my skin until it burned so hot that I was forced to release it—surprised to find the metal hadn’t burned me. As I resituated myself, my eyes landed on the vase of decayed white roses Harlow had given me weeks ago. My mind flashed back to the day he had given them to me, and how special he made me feel. How could Georgina do something so awful to such a good person? My knuckles turned white as I clutched the pendant once more—tighter this time. Anger stirred in my stomach. I was done wallowing in self pity. It was time to make Georgina and the Venators pay for what they’d done; not just for Harlow, but for the entire pack. I couldn’t bear it any longer. All of my sadness and pain twisted into hatred.

  Across the room, the vase on my desk spontaneously shattered, sending water, dead flowers, and shards of glass onto the carpet. My breath hitched and I unclenched my fist, allowing the iron moon pendant to fall against my chest.