The Revolution: Book 3 of The Bloodmoon Wars (A Paranormal Shifter Series Prequel to Luna Rising)

by Sara Snow

  I understood that she felt betrayed. I also understood her feeling hesitant about me now that she’d found out who I really was. When I learned she was the firstborn daughter of an Alpha, I felt the same way. I had planned to stay away from her, but alas, I couldn't.

  Even with all the risks our friendship would bring about, I found my way to her, night after night. I feared losing her, so I kept my true identity a secret. But now it looked like I would lose her anyway. I could almost see the wall growing between us, a barrier I’d been trying to knock down, bit by bit, each time we spoke.

  She looked my way but turned away again when she saw me watching her. I sighed. I craved her still, but now I desired all of her. For always.

  For now, while her friend was recovering, I wouldn’t pressure her. From what I’d heard, Skye's mother had been killed. That had to have been a punch in the gut to both Cyrus and Elinor. I knew how close they all were.

  I wished I could comfort her, but I knew I was the last person she wanted to speak to right now.

  Skye had fallen asleep, but Cyrus wasn’t leaving her side. When we’d arrived, he’d given Arden's head to Saleem, and now the rest of us were all sitting in her office, listening as she interrogated the severed head. I'd seen more substantial black magic users over the years, but Saleem was skilled enough to pull off a spell this strong.

  “All . . . all I’ve heard . . . heard w-was his voice. He never revealed his face a-and he . . . he moved f-from one location t-to the next often.” Arden’s lips moved slowly, his words chopped.

  Saleem continued to wiggle her fingers, sending blue lines of energy extending from her fingertips to his temples. "You’ve been kidnapping people from their homes and murdering them without even knowing who you were doing it for?" Her finger twitched as she waited for a response.

  “Yes . . . y-yes . . . It was my purpose.”

  “What is the symbol that is branded on the supernaturals, the one that controls them?” Scarlet asked, leaning against the wall to my left.

  As a succubus, Scarlet, with her long red hair, was striking. But she still wasn’t as beautiful as Elinor. Both she and Theanos had been sending me odd looks, which I interpreted as either curiosity or confusion about what they had just learned about me.

  “My m-m-master created i-it. It reanimates the dead, but p-places them . . . under my master’s c-control.”

  “Is your master a witch?” Theanos asked.

  “I d-don’t know.”

  Scarlet groaned with frustration. “Were you working alone?”

  “No. T-There were two others with me, from t-the first . . . first trials my m-master did.”

  "Were you the one who killed Ms. Clementine?" Elinor asked.

  Arden paused, his pale dead eyes moving frantically from side to side. “No.”

  Then Saleem decided to go for broke. "Give us a location where other supernaturals are being held," she commanded.

  Arden's forehead creased like he was in pain. I knew this particular spell was painful. Arden didn't have a body, but the pain receptors in his brain were being manipulated by Saleem while she stimulated the areas of his brain responsible for memories.

  “I-It h-h-hurts. Please.”

  I glanced at Elinor and watched as her face scrunched up at Arden's words. I knew she was feeling bad about doing this to him. He was cruel and deserved to die. And if she’d had the chance, I was certain she would’ve quickly put him out of his misery.

  But this was torture—something she vehemently disapproved of. It was necessary, and she knew that, too. That was something I loved about her. She was fierce but had morals.

  Love?

  I frowned as the word echoed in my mind, and I looked away. Love? Did I love her? She'd gotten under my skin, but was it more than that? I'd fight for her, I'd do anything to keep her safe, I’d revealed my secret to save her . . . and I’d ignored the possibility of a war just to be with her.

  I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fuck.”

  “Will, is there a problem?” Saleem asked.

  My hand fell away from my face. “No.”

  She nodded, then got back to business. “Give me a location,” she urged again, and Arden finally muttered directions that Theanos quickly jotted down.

  Saleem sighed loudly as her office door opened, and Cyrus walked in. He entered slowly, his hand in his pockets. While he looked calm on the outside, I knew his need for revenge was eating away at him. He was a fearless man—truly a Demon King's son—and he reminded me of myself. He showed restraint as he walked around and did his best to hide the blood lust brewing within him.

  “Is she speaking yet?” Elinor asked him, and he shook his head.

  Then he turned to look at the severed head. “Can he feel pain?” he asked Saleem.

  She broke the spell connecting her to Arden. "This spell was painful, yes, but needless torture will get us nowhere. We got very little information from Arden. He knew less about what was going on than I had imagined. However, he did give us a location."

  "Then show—" he demanded, but Saleem held her hand up to silence him.

  "I will not. Ground yourself, Cyrus. Losing control won't solve anything."

  “She was my mother, too!” Cyrus’s voice vibrated the glasses on the shelves behind Saleem. “And they took her from us!”

  To Saleem’s credit, she didn’t even blink at his outburst. “I know,” she replied, her voice low.

  Elinor looked away, her heartbeat spiking, and my hand twitched with the need to touch her, to comfort her. Cyrus's hands shook at his sides, and my chest tightened as Elinor hung her head and let out a small sob.

  I didn't know the woman they'd lost, but Elinor’s pain awakened something in me I hadn't felt in a long time—a thirst for blood, a need to rip the world apart to rid her of anyone or anything that was causing her pain. Only once before had I cared for another, but it had been nothing like this.

  Cyrus's eyes grew red with tears, and he turned and left as Elinor sobbed quietly. She got up and rushed from the room with her head down. My body acted on its own and I reached out to her, but she growled deep, her eyes changing to black, and I froze.

  Then she stormed from the room, and I remained where I stood for a mere second before hissing and rushing after her. She was in pain, no doubt on the verge of exploding with everything that had happened in the last few weeks. But I knew if I left now, the issue between us would only end up tied to the rage she felt for the people who took her friend.

  “Elinor!” She kept walking down the hall. I moved forward quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a room. “Wait.”

  “Get off me!” she cried.

  I released her arm. “Sorry, I just . . .”

  “What? You just what, Will? What the hell just happened?”

  Her cheeks were slick with tears, and I didn't understand the sudden ache in my chest at the sight of them. Her eyes were filled with so much pain . . .

  "I'm sorry." That was all I could say—I had no excuse, and I knew it. "I'm sorry I didn’t tell you."

  Her tense shoulders dropped with defeat, and neither of us spoke for a moment. Then she wiped away her tears and stood up straight. This was one reason I admired her so much. She might cry to release her pain, but then she’d get right back up, standing even taller.

  “I can’t talk about this right now.”

  "I think we should, Elinor. There's too much happening, and I don't want this tension to remain between us. If we don't talk about it now, when will we?"

  “I don’t know, Will. Maybe whenever you had planned to tell me who you really were.” She shook her head. “Hell, is Will even your name?”

  My chest puffed up as I inhaled deeply. “It’s William Hunter. Everyone calls me Will. My mother’s the only one that calls me William. I don’t remember my human name.”

  “How old are you?”

  I gave her a small smile. “Very old.” She didn't return the smile, and mine faded. “Cent
uries-old, Elinor. But my age doesn’t matter. Even werewolves age slowly.”

  "Vampires don't age at all. So what happens down the road? One day I'll be all wrinkly, and you'll still look like this." She turned away as if realizing something. "I never even thought about that."

  I stepped forward, and her eyes quickly changed to black when she looked up at me. "Don't think about that, Elinor. Okay? Listen to me. I don't care for you just because you're beautiful."

  “It doesn’t even matter.” She shook her head. “Why speak of the future when we have none?”

  I frowned at her words. “No one knows the future, except for maybe the Enchanteds among your kind and seers. We don’t know what the future holds for us.”

  “We don’t even know what we are,” she argued. “What are we?”

  Say it!

  "You’re mine." The defensiveness in her eyes faded, and I glimpsed a glimmer of hope before she quickly masked it. "And I'm yours. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I told you, I'll follow you anywhere, and I meant it."

  I’ve proven that.

  When she said nothing, I continued, “For a long time, I felt like it was better for me to stay away from others, to remain in my own world, apart from vampires and supernaturals. But you . . .”

  “Stop!” She closed her eyes, shaking her head from side to side. “Stop, please.”

  "Why?" When I closed the distance between us, she grew tense. "Why? You asked me what we are, and so I'm telling you. I'm telling you what you mean to me." Then I reached up and brushed my knuckles against her cheek. For too long, we'd been beating around the bush about our feelings. I wanted her, and after this morning, I’d realized that I could lose her at any moment. “Do you not want to be mine?”

  She swallowed and looked away, but I cupped her cheek and turned her head back to me. She was so stunning, her lips so plump, and I wanted to be reminded of her taste.

  "Don't . . ." The word left her lips on a heavy breath, and I placed my forehead against hers.

  “Tell me you want me, Elinor, because I know you do. I’ve had enough of this. I’ve had enough of only getting pieces of you in secret. Tell me you’ll be mine.”

  “I can’t.”

  She tried to look away again, but I wouldn’t let her. "Yes, you can. All you need to do is say it."

  “You’re the son of the Vampire Queen, Will. That changes so many things.”

  I blinked rapidly and pulled away. “How different is that from you being the daughter of the Alpha? You’re royalty among your own people, too.”

  "You know what the problem is. At first, I was just the Alpha-born, and you were a normal vampire. But you're not a normal vampire. You're a prince, and one that can walk in the sun."

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had never judged Elinor because of who she was. Her title didn't matter to me. She was doing exactly what I had feared she would—she was judging me based on my mother, my race, and the power I hadn’t asked for.

  The open door on the cage surrounding my heart slammed shut, and I stepped away from her. “Okay.”

  She looked at me, confused at my words. But I couldn’t help her. The expression on her face had forcefully reminded me of why I had remained alone for so long. Why had I ever thought I would be accepted?

  "Okay," I repeated.

  The confusion on her face turned to anger. “I—I do want us, okay?” Her expression crumpled. “I do want you. But don’t you see, Will? You and I can never be together. Never.” Her voice cracked, and she looked away. I swallowed hard as she stepped around me, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

  Her heart was breaking, but so was mine. I knew she was speaking the truth, I just didn’t want to accept it. So this time, when she walked away, I didn’t follow her.

  5

  Elinor

  I stormed towards Skye’s room but took deep breaths to calm myself before entering. I pulled the door open gently and found Skye sitting up in bed, the wound on her head completely healed. Only a patch of hair was missing. Being werewolves, our hair proliferated quickly, so it would only take a few weeks before she looked like she did before.

  My anger at Will faded as I plodded towards Skye’s bed. She was staring down at her covered legs as if in a trance, her eyes unblinking.

  "Skye," I said gently, and she looked up at me.

  The moment our eyes met, I rocked back on my heels at the agony in her gaze. Skye had only ever had her mother. She’d never met her father and had been content with that. Only now, she was all alone in the world.

  Her eyes began watering, and the dam holding back my own tears broke. I rushed forward and climbed onto the bed with her.

  “She’s gone, Elinor. She's gone!”

  She was shaking her head wildly, and I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms. We hugged each other as if someone was trying to pry us apart. She sobbed long and hard, the sound painful to hear, but I allowed her to cry. I let her pound her fists against my back. Finally, she lowered her head to my chest, and her sobs grew muffled. I didn’t care that her nails were digging into my body as she held me close, and I pressed my face into her black curls, tears pouring from my eyes.

  I felt utterly helpless to soothe her pain, and I hated it. She continued to cry in my arms, her firm hold on me not loosening, as if she was afraid I’d disappear if she released me.

  “I’m here,” I told her. “I’m with you.”

  I wanted to tell her I was so sorry for what happened. I wanted to tell her I'd avenge Ms. Clementine, but I kept those words to myself. Somehow, I didn’t think that was the right thing to say just now. She'd been silent since she arrived, and I understood. Words wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would ever be enough.

  I couldn’t imagine a world without my mother or my father and brother in it. I'd never imagined a world without her and Cyrus either.

  I didn’t want to. And thank the Goddess, I didn’t have to. Sure, I was at risk of being shipped off to another pack, and Cyrus would have to return to the Demon Realm, but we wouldn't be pulled away from each other by the cold hands of death.

  Still, I had a grim feeling that the world was about to get even darker. Whoever had been killing supernaturals and reanimating them wasn't doing it for the betterment of the world—that much I was sure of. What good could possibly come from so much death?

  Skye finally pulled away, but we kept holding hands. I wiped at her tears with my free hand before wiping away my own. We sat for a moment in utter silence. Thanks to the spell Saleem had cast on the room, the noise from the world outside couldn’t enter.

  It was peaceful. And much needed.

  “T-They made me watch,” Skye stammered. So much for peace. Her head was bent, her eyes gazing down at her lap, and she squeezed my hand. "They tortured her to get me to tell them who had broken the cloaking spell they’d placed on me, who could possibly be powerful enough. They wanted to know who was coming after me. I was going to tell them, but my mother kept yelling at me not to. She said she could take it!"

  We caused this! Oh Goddess, we killed Ms. Clementine!

  The idea of Skye living with the horrific memory of her mother being tortured for the rest of her life filled me with intense sadness. And it was all my fault—mine and Cyrus’s. Sure, Skye and Ms. Clementine were already in danger—at risk of being killed and resurrected—but we’d made things so much worse, forcing Ms. Clementine to suffer even more. If we had found them another way, maybe none of this would have happened, and Ms. Clementine would still be alive. But we’d had no other way of finding them.

  “They wanted to know who’d broken the spell and said they’d let her go if I talked. I knew it must have been you guys, but I said nothing.” She closed her eyes, and her face scrunched up. “T-They hurt her . . . so I had to tell them. But t-they—” She choked on her words, and I squeezed her hand to offer her my strength. "They killed her anyway."

  She wasn't blaming us for her mother’s death. I shouldn't bl
ame myself either, I supposed, considering we were dealing with monsters. But just knowing that something I did cost Ms. Clementine her life was a heavy burden to bear.

  “After a while, a man appeared through a portal. I'm not sure what he did, but some of the supernaturals were reanimated before he left. He released them, letting them kill the others left behind in the cells. I heard him talking to someone the whole time. He said they couldn't move everyone, so those too weak to receive the mark should be killed.”

  “Why did he speak so freely with you there? Who was he, do you know? Did you catch a scent?”

  She swallowed hard. “I was on the floor bleeding profusely from my wound. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to live, so it didn’t matter to him what I heard. He didn’t care that I was listening.” She reached up and gently touched the patch of exposed scalp. “After the supernaturals in the cages were killed, I was left in the forest as bait. I never glimpsed the man who came through the portal, and he had no scent that I could make out.”

  She looked over at me, her eyes dull. “I wanted to die, Elinor. I-I can’t believe she’s gone . . . I begged them to kill me, too. What am I going to do without her? She was right in front of me. I could have—”

  I hugged her, cutting her panicked words short.

  I’m so sorry.

  But sorry would not bring her mother back. All we could do was find a way to end this before the army of reanimated supernaturals grew too large.

  Skye looked at me. "The one that you guys killed—did he have cat-like eyes and the arm of a werewolf?"

  I shook my head. “No. He was a mash-up of different body parts together and had black eyes like a demon.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not the one.” Her eyes turned to black. “The one with the cat-like eyes? He’s the one I’m going to kill.”