Blood Vow (Blood Moon Rising)

by Tabke, Karin

  His beautiful golden eyes glowed with passion and—a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his full lips. “I love you, angel face,” he said softly. “I vow to you I will never forsake you.” He kissed her nose, and smiled. “Never doubt me.”

  She knew Lucien believed what he said, but he was making his commitment not knowing the truth. As such, it didn’t count. She clasped him tightly to her.

  Would Luca truly stand by her? Could he when faced with the truth?

  Both alphas had the same demons but carried them differently.

  While Luca dragged around the guilt of not doing what he had wanted to do the day Clan Corbet viciously slew his parents, it was Rafa who bore the responsibility by barring Lucien from going to their mother’s aide. It would be Rafe who could not, would not, allow himself to set down the guilt, even after he destroyed Corbet and his entire line. It was a no-win situation for Rafa and his guilt because he held himself solely responsible because of his inaction.

  Never mind he was only ten years old at the time and would have been as hideously tortured and killed as his parents and so many others that day had he not honored the promise he made to his mother. Thank the gods for that.

  But even with the truth of what would have happened had he tried to save his parents, if Rafa knew the truth about her, he would never be able to look at her again without seeing his parents’ blood on her hands. She would always pay the price for her father’s sins.

  She opened her eyes to find Rafa’s equally brooding eyes watching her. Fear prickled along her spine. Did he know? Suspect? To diffuse the uncomfortable feeling she said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He slowly shook his head, not breaking his stare. “What aren’t you telling us, Falon?”

  Her throat tightened, and her hands shook. “Why do you say that?” she nervously asked, pushing out of Lucien’s embrace.

  “Don’t answer a question with a question, Falon,” he said quietly.

  She opened her mouth to deny what he asked but decided that would add to the thickening tension. Instead she gave him a different truth. “I’m worried. I’m afraid, and I feel helpless.”

  Rafe nodded. “I’m worried, too, and afraid something is going to pop up we’re not prepared to handle. And because of it, we’ll lose the final battle.”

  Falon gasped. “Like what?” She was afraid to ask.

  “Like more witches or an attack by demons or goblins we have no clue exist. Or that Fenrir is going to pull some magic wand out of his ass we can’t overcome.”

  Falon’s heart thundered inside her rib cage, choking her breath from her lungs. “We have the sword,” she breathed, her voice shaky. Fenrir knew her secret and she knew in her heart if Corbet didn’t reveal it, Fenrir would. Her father had given her two weeks. Fenrir would not be so indulging.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “North to the battleground.”

  “Where is that?”

  “The tribes call it Naparyarmiut, but on the map it’s Hooper’s Bay. It’s on the west coast of Alaska on the Bering Sea,” Lucien said.

  “The packs have been moving north for weeks, many of them will be there when we arrive with the balance to follow over the next week.”

  “What will happen? How will the battle commence?”

  “As it did three hundred years ago, face-to-face, hand to hand, sword to sword.”

  Falon shivered as the image of the gruesome battle to come played out in slow motion in her head. Fenrir leading legions of powerful Slayers against them but in her vision, Rafe and Lucien were not with her, but together. Where was she? Had they learned her truth and—

  “We must call out Fenrir before the rising,” she said hoarsely. “With his death the Slayers have nothing.”

  Rafe withdrew the Cross of Caus from the scabbard on the floor beside him. His eyes shone brightly as he held it up and she noticed the ring on his finger glowed warmly. “With the sword, the ring and the power of the three, we can defeat him. We will defeat him.” His eyes flared and he caught her gaze. “And then we will annihilate every Slayer and hybrid on the planet.”

  Falon lowered her gaze unable to look Rafe in the eye when she hid such a terrible lie. But it was exactly that shame and the fear of discovery that planted the seed of an idea in her brain.

  “What will you tell the packs—about us?” Falon asked.

  Lucien gathered her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “That we are united and anyone who has a problem with it is free join another pack.”

  Falon glanced at Rafe who nodded. “I am the eldest, and when I speak to the council, I will speak on behalf of Vulkasin and Mondragon when both packs arrive. If any human or Lycan challenges me, I will accept the challenge, and win.”

  “What if the packs as a whole reject us as a trio?”

  “They won’t,” Rafe assured her.

  Lucien squeezed her. “If I had any doubt that what we were doing would be detrimental in any way to either pack, Falon, I would not have agreed to this unusual relationship.” He looked past her to Rafe. “I love my brother. I regret the years we spent separated. I regret the heartache our packs have endured. I would not put them through anything like that again.” He sighed heavily. “I would step down as alpha first.”

  “You would do that, for me?”

  He nodded. “For us.”

  Emotion caught in her throat. “Oh, Luca, I love you more for saying that, but alpha is as much a part of you as your golden eyes. You would be miserable with anything less.”

  He took her chin in his hand and raised it so that their eyes locked. “I would be more miserable without you.”

  He kissed her and in that brief moment, Falon believed if Lucien knew the truth he would not cast her aside. He pulled her into his lap and she curled up in his protective arms and as her eyes fluttered closed the last image she saw was Rafe’s intense scowl.

  Her dreams were fraught with despair. Of running from who she was, straight into the jaws of Fenrir. Those aimless gray souls, the ghost walkers howled mournfully around her, fearful she would not release them from their endless purgatory.

  In them she looked for Rafael and Lucien’s parents. Tamaska! Arnou! Are you there? She sobbed. I love your sons! I hate my lie but I’m so afraid to lose them. Tell me what to do! she pleaded. Tell me what to do!

  Deafening silence answered. An omen. There was no answer therefore there would be no life for her with her alphas after the rising.

  On every side of this feud there was heartache and pain. Slayers lost loved ones, Lycan, too, and even Fenrir, that disgusting excuse for a wolf had feelings. Imagine that? He wasn’t just driven by his rejection. Deep down inside that wolf had a heart and wanted the same thing everyone wanted: to be loved. Unconditionally. How odd that her parents of all people loved each other enough to stay together all these years and even bring another child into the world. How difficult it must have been and still be.

  Would Rafe or Lucien give it all up for her like her father did her mother? She would not ask them to, and she would never in a thousand years lay as her mother had with the man who destroyed so many people she loved. Anger swept away any compassion she had for her mother, father, or Fenrir. Her mother was weak, a traitor to her people and to her children. Thomas and Fenrir perpetuated an eight-hundred-year-old hatred. She would end it.

  Her plan took root. When they arrived in Alaska, she would take the Cross of Caus and set out on her own odyssey to destroy her father and the wicked wolf Fenrir, thus ending the curse upon both peoples.

  * * *

  “ANGEL FACE,” LUCIEN said softly. “Wake up, we’re here.”

  Falon slowly roused, unsure of where here was.

  “The hunting grounds. C’mon.”

  Before she could move, Lucien h
oisted her up into his arms, and carried her out of the plane into the cold night air. The crisp artic air felt good in her lungs. The fresh scents of nature welcomed her. As Lucien set her down she saw Rafe loading a black SUV. He glanced up, and caught her stare before turning back to the loading.

  Foreboding haunted her. Did Rafe suspect? Gently she tried to probe his thoughts but he had closed himself off to her. Even more cause for alarm.

  “C’mon, let’s get you warm,” Lucien said, steering her toward the SUV. He settled her in the backseat, then climbed up front in the passenger seat as Rafe took the driver’s seat. Without conversation they drove off the tarmac of the small airfield and into the blackness of night.

  As they drove, Falon watched the blackness speed by, and her mood settled more uncomfortably within her. She kept telling herself there was no way out except with the deaths of the two beings who knew about her but who perpetuated the hatred. It was a twofer since both her father and Fenrir were in all Lycan’s crosshairs. Layla she wasn’t worried about. Her mother would keep her secret for fear of punishment for them both. At least in that her mother had some loyalty. And her sister! Alana.

  That sweet little girl.

  They had shared a kindred heart the minute Falon held her in her arms and told her she would protect her. The girl had instantly quieted and settled into Falon’s arms. The emotion that had exploded in her chest was what she surmised a mother must feel for her child. And now, that poor kid would grow up hating Falon for killing her father. But did she have a choice?

  She glanced up at the rearview mirror and caught Rafe’s penetrating stare. “What is it, Rafa?”

  He glanced at the road then back at her. “You tell me.”

  Once again that feeling that he suspected the worse overcame her.

  “You’ve been quiet the entire trip back, Rafe, what’s up?” Lucien asked.

  Long minutes passed before he answered. “Corbet’s claim that the child was his daughter is eating at me.”

  “It’s been on my mind as well. Unless a Lycan was forced, I can’t see how he could have sired a child.”

  “What if that Lycan, like me, didn’t know she was Lycan until it was too late?” Falon offered hoping to steer the conversation away from connecting any dots. It made her feel guiltier. It was one thing to not know the truth but to know it now as she did and to propagate the lie to protect herself . . .

  “I suppose that’s possible, but improbable.” Rafe looked up at the rearview mirror again and asked, “Did Layla ever tell you why she deserted you?”

  Falon’s chest squeezed so tightly she had to suck hard for a breath. “Being out of the protection of her pack, she feared that so long as we were together, Slayers could sniff her out and thereby sniff me out.”

  “So for your protection, she abandoned you?”

  It was a bitter pill to swallow but— “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t she return to the pack?” Lucien asked, turning to face her.

  “All she would tell me was that she had survivor’s guilt. That she could not bear to relive what had happened, and being among her pack she would relive it constantly.”

  “Sounds like a cop-out,” Rafe said.

  Falon nodded, understanding why he would say that but knowing the truth, she understood completely, even though she would never have abandoned not only one but two children.

  “Did she ever speak of her time with Corbet?” Rafe pushed.

  Falon’s belly dropped to her feet. “She—she refused to speak of it.” And in hindsight Falon understood perfectly by what her mother hadn’t said exactly what had happened. She fell in love with him. He stayed away from his clan to be with her mother and raise her. He battled his demons, but in the end, blood trumped love and child. Thomas Corbet’s destiny would not be denied. It was as tragic as any Shakespearean play and for the first time, knowing the truth, Falon felt compassion for her mother and her father. Though she could not understand how on earth Layla could fall in love with the Master Slayer who had viciously destroyed her family, she understood the depths of love.

  And the heartbreak of having it ripped from your arms.

  “Did she speak of your father?” Rafe asked.

  This time the blood leeched from her cheeks. “Only that he loved me.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “My mother said at the time she didn’t know.”

  “Does she now?”

  “I don’t know,” Falon whispered, wanting to jump out of the car and run.

  Rafe slowed and made a wide banking right and turn and continued to drive in complete darkness. Just when she could stand the silence no more a soft rosy glow rose on the horizon.

  “The Amorak have arrived,” Lucien said excitedly.

  “And with them answers,” Rafe replied, catching Falon’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

  Twenty-one

  FALON WATCHED IN awe as the amazing sight unfurled before her eyes. Scores of what she could only describe as teepee-style lodges dotted the glow amidst the darkness. Fires roared within them, illuminating the animal skin covers and intricate designs and scenes carved into the pelts that appeared to come alive with the flickering of the hearth fires.

  “This is just the beginning, Falon,” Rafe said. “In a week’s time this entire valley will be full of similar structures. Hundreds of them.”

  “How will they be sustained?” she asked, thinking of the provisions it would take to feed and fortify the entire Lycan nation.

  “Everyone pitches in and contributes. In the harbor there’s a ship with enough food and sundries to last the nation two months. There will also be daily hunting parties to go out for fresh meat.”

  “Are we vulnerable here? Will the Slayers attack before the rising?”

  “Slayers play by no rules. We must always be vigilant.”

  Rafe drove down what appeared to be a main thoroughfare and seemed to know where he was going. At the edge of the encampment he stopped in front of a lodge that was easily twice as large as any of the others.

  He put the vehicle in park, and turned off the ignition. He came around as Lucien was opening her door, and nudged him out of the way. Lucien took exception to it, and for the first time since they had shared intimacy as three, the tension rose between the two men.

  Falon was glad for it, but only because it took the spotlight off her. She pushed between them breaking them apart, and looked up at the dark structure. Rafe moved to the large flap, held it back, and extended his arm. “Home for the next month.”

  “This is Vulkasin,” Lucien said roughly. “My camp is farther down.”

  Rafe looked patiently at his brother, and said, “Move it next to this one.”

  “Falon comes with me,” Lucien said, extending his hand.

  Rafe stepped between her and his brother’s outstretched hand. “She was mine first.”

  Lucien snarled and stepped closer.

  “I’m not a bone!” Falon shouted. “I won’t be treated like one.” Once again she held the brothers apart. “Which place is bigger?”

  Rafe scowled. “They should be the same size as Lucien and I are equally ranked alphas.”

  “Fine, then this one will do, for the three of us.” As she made the statement, a thrilling excitement mixed with harsh trepidation tangled in her belly. Excitement because for the next month she would be spending intimate time with both of her men here in this beautiful setting, and trepidation that she was wrong withholding the truth from them.

  “I’m not so sure that would be the best situation,” Lucien said.

  “Why not? Because I’m not going to have you two coming in and out in shifts! And I sure as hell am not going to be skulking between two camps! How do you think that would make me look?” They both stared blankly at her. “Like I’m servicing
the two of you, that’s how!” She crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “Either the both of you stay here with me or neither of you do.” She cocked her head sideways and raised a brow. “It’s your decision.”

  Rafael looked at a scowling Lucien. They made to snarl at each other but didn’t. Falon had to force her lips from quirking. God she loved these two with all her heart. Emotion jacked up her throat. And she would do anything to keep them.

  “Well?” she asked, tapping her foot. “All or nothing.”

  Rafe threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, Falon, but don’t expect me to be happy about the arrangement.”

  She stuck her tongue out at his retreating back just as Lucien caught her up in the circle of his arms. His wicked smile could disarm a stone. He kissed her soundly on the lips, then smacked her butt before he practically skipped away to help his brother. Falon laughed at him. In so many ways, though only separated by minutes, Lucien acted the younger brother. He got away with hijinks and naughtiness, while Rafe was the one expected to be serious and dutiful at all times. She was sensitive to that about him and tried to understand what drove him.

  Falon turned back to the lodge, and pulled back the flap. Darkness.

  “Here,” Rafe said roughly, handing her a flashlight to show her the way. The light shone brightly into the large, airy space. Thick colorful woven rugs covered the floor, but central to the space was a self-contained adobe-style fireplace complete with a tall, narrow chimney that ran up through the middle of the structure. Several low, soft leather sofas surrounded it. In the corner behind the fireplace was a stack of fur pelts as tall as she was high and a large rough wood dresser. A table with four chairs was pushed to the right side along with stacked coolers and a washbasin. On the opposite side was a large claw-foot tub, and what she surmised was a portable commode. A chest-high folded screen rested against the wall closest to the tub.

  The entire space felt open and she could see flap cutouts shoulderhigh lining the skins and several higher up for ventilation.