Blood Moon Magic

by Isobelle Carmichael

  “And the no sex thing?” I ask, for what feels like the hundredth time.

  Why are they dancing around this so much?

  “Right, well,” Justin clears his throat, “I read that if we save our joining until the ritual, it will be far more powerful. The Bonding will complete when we all join, and if we wait until the ceremony, we’ll get an extra boost.”

  “So, you’re saying we can’t have sex until the ceremony?” My voice is raised in shock.

  “We’re not going to rob you of orgasms. We’ll make sure we pleasure you plenty, but we need to limit how much you touch us,” he reasons, and he sounds so matter of fact, that I suddenly want to punch him. I don’t like how well he’s taking this.

  “And why would I agree to that?”

  “Because some of us are far more animal than we care to admit, and now that we have been Claimed, it will only become harder to separate the two. I know you feel it, your wolf clawing at you, begging to get out. Well, among us are those who have that same strong yearning. Our dragons are closer to the surface. The need to claim you is strong already based on our animal nature, but far more intense for those of us more in tune with our shifter side. We want a chance to get to know you, for you, and not just your delectable body,” Kaden answers, and the look in his eyes makes me wonder if he’s one of those guys.

  “Okay, fantastic. More to process,” I say sarcastically. When Kaleb opens his arms to me, I run into them, and he crushes me firmly against his chest.

  “We’ll take care of you sexually; you’ll barely notice that we’re not having sex.”

  “I can literally hear you trying to convince yourself that this won’t suck for everyone,” I say, my voice muddled as I take in his scent.

  “You’re right, this is going to suck, but it’s only for a little while,” Kaleb adds, pressing me tighter to him.

  “Right, sounds great … so let’s make lunch,” I declare stepping back from him. I need a distraction so badly right now, and being pressed up against him, breathing in the scent of smoke and pine is not helping.

  “Guys, let’s make some fajitas.”

  And drink some tequila, lots of tequila.

  “Marcus, I’ll show you how to make authentic tortillas from scratch if you want.” It’s not subtle, but I need to work on getting him to let his walls down, and what chef doesn’t want to learn a new recipe?

  We decide to head toward the kitchen to start making lunch for my pack, leaving Justin to scour through my family journals. Cooking keeps my mind off things, and having sexy helpers is a significant bonus. I’m halfway out of the door when I turn back and look at the boys.

  “Wait a minute, can you all conjure elements like Kaleb?”

  “Yes, we can each master our elements to some degree, some more than others,” Justin says.

  “I wonder what that means I’ll be able to do?” I question. “Do you know what Aether does?”

  “I have an idea,” he answers, “but I need to do more research before I can be sure. Once I do, though, I’ll be the one to teach you how to access and use it. As far as mastering your gift, only you can do that.”

  He looks at me then adds, “So … lunch? I heard something about fajitas.”

  “Did you seriously just try to dismiss me to the kitchen to make you a sandwich?” I exclaim, and his cheeks redden.

  “Well, technically he dismissed you to the kitchen to make fajitas, which I guess technically qualifies as a sandwich so … yes.” I glare at Kaden. “But to be fair you were already on your way there, so it’s not an order, it’s more like a gentle reminder or even a subtle request.”

  “Kaden … forget it. I don’t even know how to respond to that.” I throw my hands up in the air and walk away. I hear several chuckles before they run to catch up with me.

  “For the record,” I call over my back, “I expect all of you to help.”

  “I have every intention of helping; I’m making margaritas,” Kaden says.

  “And I’m drinking margaritas,” Kaleb adds.

  “I don’t think that’s helpful, Kaleb,” but I can’t help but laugh. It isn’t much later that I have to admit that drinking margaritas probably is helpful after all, because unlike his brother, Kaleb wasn’t blessed with any skills in the kitchen. Though he more than makes up for it in other areas.

  Chapter Nine

  Sacha

  I watch our alpha, my sister, sit down after she finishes her announcements to a sadly undercrowded den. Telling a pack like ours that we’re not to leave the den without our Claimed men or bodyguards was a bold move, and extremely controversial. I understand what she is doing, but it is causing hackles to rise on everyone, even on my own skin.

  When your pack is full of women as strong as ours, they’re used to being the protectors, not the protected. It’s a damn good thing I’m a lieutenant, and therefore able to move more freely because I would not be able to follow her decree. Alpha Seamus’s words still grate at me. His audacity to even suggest that our women require protection is insulting, considering that even our Omegas could wipe the floor with the strongest members of most other packs. That’s not my pride talking; it’s a fact we’ve proven time and again. While I may be one of the many unmated women in our pack, I’m not interested in finding a mate. I have another purpose, to serve our Elders.

  If Megan knew that I am the one tasked with keeping an eye on her, she would be devastated. As her sister, and highest ranked beta, I am her closest confidant. The High Priestess is the mastermind; she knew choosing me would inflict maximum damage upon Megan if she ever found out. It was also assumed that our relationship would mean I’d have the most pertinent information on pack happenings. I am an aunt, a sister, a lieutenant, and an unwilling spy. Most days I don’t even know who I’m meant to be loyal to.

  There was once a time when I believed all the indoctrinated bullshit the Elders told us, and my views were aligned with the old ways. My allegiances then were so simple, the Elders and my pack, in that order. I reverently followed the old ways, always actively participating in the rituals. I gave my all to the Council of Thirteen, believing they were doing what was best for our people. Being older than Megan, I remember when things started to change. I was fifty when our women began dying in childbirth. Stillborn births became the norm, and liter sizes shrunk to singles and doubles, instead of the more significant numbers of years past. I used to think that the Elders were the only ones who could save our pack, but now I am less naive.

  I know I’m not the only one who wonders what in the Overrealm the Elders are doing up there. They sit in a magnificent temple fueled by our magic, as we die out. Now, my niece is expected to be led like a lamb to the slaughter, and it’s all too much. I hope that Megan can pull off this crazy scheme of hers because life without Abigail is incomprehensible. If she dies, her blood is on my hands just as much as the Elders. When Megan came back and told me the latest deal she’d struck with the Elders, I was delighted. I’d been dreading this ceremony ever since she turned twenty-five earlier this year, but now she has a chance. With the strength and power of five mates, Abby’s hopes of surviving the magic transfer have increased exponentially. I know that the High Priestess will expect me to check in soon. I have gone too long without speaking to them. And now, I know she will want to tell me to keep a close eye on everyone. While all of the shifter races will be performing this ceremony, ours is the one that matters most, because ours is the one with a Blood Moon alpha in it.

  The room begins to clear, as packmates either go back to their bedrooms or venture out on dates with their new mates. It’s honestly heartwarming to see the den so full of life, even if dragons are partly to thank for that. I never thought the day would come when our den would be populated with anything but wolves again, and yet here we are. Magic sings in the air as the Bonds between Claimed mates begin to solidify. I think maybe Megan could be on to something after all.

  Across from me, I see my niece on the floor, surrounded by he
r dragons. I smile my first real smile in over a decade watching them. I can sense the magic these shifters have, but it is only a glimmer of what it could be. It is my niece that is the true miracle. She burns with a core of power unseen in centuries. It is locked deep within her but waiting to come out. Now that she’s old enough and has found her mates, the prophecy will commence. If these men that her wolf has chosen are truly meant for her, they will break the dam, and her magic will burst forth. She’ll have a chance then of surviving the power transfer with the Elders.

  I glance at my watch and notice it’s close to midnight; I need to report in. I’ve missed a few of my check-ins, and Maeve is going to be pissed. It seems she’s always angry about one thing or another these days. I can’t even recall the last time she sounded like herself. She’s always been difficult, but these days it’s almost enough to make me consider pitying David, almost.

  I step outside the house and jog deep into the woods until I come to a tree with a notch and the symbol etched deep into its bark—a crescent moon.

  I pull my knapsack off my back and begin a simple ritual to call the quarters. After placing four candles to represent each element and one in the middle to represent aether, I begin.

  “Powers of Air, I call to thee, your gentle breeze surrounding me, I invite you in Love and Truth, and as I speak, so mote it be.”

  “Powers of Fire, I call to thee, your flames and warmth surrounding me, I invite you in Love and Truth, and as I speak, so mote it be.”

  “Powers of Water, I call to thee your life-giving elixir surrounding me. I invite you in Love and Truth, and as I speak, so mote it be.”

  “Powers of Earth, I call to thee, sweet earth and loam surrounding me, I invite you in Love and Truth, and as I speak, so mote it be.”

  With my circle cleansed and the quarters called, I call upon the Elders. Within minutes, they appear. It looks like a holographic bubble, and I can see them sitting in the temple. I have always been in awe of this particular spell—simple, but effective and so beautiful.

  “Daughter,” the High Priestess calls to me. “We have been waiting for your report for much longer than we would like. How are the shifters?”

  “I apologize, High Priestess, it has been hard to get away, but I have good news to report. The Wyvern Clan and Dama de Noche pack have performed a Claiming ceremony. The ceremony went better than expected, and I can see Bonds forming already within the two shifter clans,” I tell the High Priestess, keeping my eyes down, not just out of respect, but because the natural luminescence of her skin makes it hard to stare at her for too long. She could tone it down and make it easier on my eyes, but she’s petty.

  “And what of Abigail?” she asks. “Did she participate as her mother promised she would? Did her wolf Claim any dragons?”

  “Her wolf claimed five dragons, High Priestess,” I say, and can barely keep the pride from my voice.

  “She claimed five?” she says more to herself than to me, “and what of their powers?”

  “I sensed magic in all of them; there is a chance they could be the pack the prophecy foretold of, with the power to heal the races or bring about the devastation of the Elders,” I tell her, albeit begrudgingly. I hate that I have to tell things to her that I haven’t even been able to talk to my alpha about yet.

  “And what do you think? Will she save us, or destroy us?” she asks, her raven hair floating about her she speaks.

  I lift my eyes, and they connect with the vibrant violet of her own. I know she will want to see my face when I answer.

  “I think they will save us all, High Priestess; already I can see the Bond forming with her mates. I believe she will be the savior of the shifter race. I think she can survive the transfer of power.”

  Maeve waves her hands as if the life of my niece doesn’t matter, and to her, it doesn’t. This is all about power to her: who has it, who’s going to lose it, and most of all who gets to keep it.

  “And what of her mother?” a male voice asks. “is she poisoning my daughter to the ways of the Elders, or keeping her on the path?”

  A sting of guilt and flare of rage course through me as I stare at a face that reminds me so much of Abby’s.

  “Elder David, she is keeping her on the path and stays true to the way of the Elders, even when the other packs have turned away from the old ways. Her mother has not forgotten the promise she made the Elders in exchange for a daughter, and she will be leading Clan Wyvern in a Blood Moon Ceremony to honor the Elders in three months.”

  “Very well. You are dismissed, but please report in next month and tell us how things are progressing,” he says, and with that, they’re gone. The air clears, and the spell is broken.

  I get up from my kneeling position and release the quarters, then pack up all my ceremonial accouterments before heading back to the house. I have been spying on the Damas since Maeve visited me in a dream and told me it was my duty to do so. I trained at the Temple of Elders as a child. It’s not unusual for betas or future lieutenants to be sent to the Overrealm for some time. It’s supposed to solidify the union between packs and Elders. That was what they said at least. I thought I was helping, respecting the old ways. It changes when you spend decades with a pack, bring their children into the world, bury them, and share in their failures and triumphs.

  I’m still loyal to the Elder’s cause, but they don’t understand that all shifters are not the same. The Damas are trying; they cling to the old ways when the others have forgotten them. I just cannot deny anymore that the power we clans exchange with the Elders seems to be having the opposite effect of what was promised. The power supplied is supposed to ensure that our clans thrive, but instead, we’re dying out. Within the next generations, we’ll be in jeopardy of total extinction.

  I think of all the secrets I keep, and the guilt twists itself into a knot in my stomach. Abby has no idea her father is alive. She has no idea that he is an Elder. And I have to keep lying to her to keep her safe. I’m not the only one betraying her; her own mother has been lying to her since she was old enough to talk. Never revealing her true origins, that her father is still alive, and just how integral the Elders are to her very existence are only a few of the secrets that Megan is hiding from her daughter. I dread the inevitable day Abby learns the truth. I know she will never forgive me, but if it saves our people, then it will be worth it.

  I open the door and enter the den quietly. When I walk to the living room, I’m surprised that Abby and her boys are still sprawled all over the couches. I thought by now they would have retreated to her rooms. I really don’t need to dodge any questions about what I’ve been up to, so I’m trying to not draw any attention to myself. While I’ll admit, it’s lovely to see how comfortable they’ve become; I wish they were upstairs so I could sneak in unawares. They’re all affected by the Claiming. Even the redhead who tries to keep his distance looks at my niece with a mix of longing and something else I can’t quite place.

  “Titi, where have you been?” she asks, then untangles herself from her pile of men to give me a hug. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes. My heart clenches in response, as my determination to keep her safe grows. I squeeze her back, packing the memory away for a later time. I don’t know if she’ll ever hug me with such open adoration again.

  “I went out for a run,” I say, “but shhh, don’t tell your mother, okay?”

  “I won’t say a word, I promise,” she says, with a wink. “I’m about to watch a movie with the boys, and Marcus grilled some shrimp and steak to go along with our fresh tortillas for dinner. Join us, please? I need you to get to know my mates and help me I don’t think I can choose” She’s dragging me toward the living room as she speaks. “Kaden even made real margaritas, no mix or anything.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Why would you choose? You need all five.” Panic fills me, and my heart stutters at the idea that Abby would choose between these men. She would never survive a power transfer without the strength of all five of
them. The magic I sense in them will ground her and keep her from fading.

  Abby looks back at me with puzzled eyes. “I need all five? Auntie, what would I even do with all five? And what do you mean by that anyway?”

  “I … uhh,” I stammer.

  Fuck me and my big mouth.

  “I just mean it seems as if they all give you something different that you need, so why pick one when you can have them all? And those margaritas look divine. I’d love one. ”

  I hope that I’ve covered my tracks well enough with that, but I need to be more careful. Abby doesn’t know that she needs every bit of magic she can find if she’s to survive in three months. She doesn’t need to know that there’s a death sentence hanging over her head, or that her mother bargained her power away before she was ever born.

  “Titi, what aren’t you telling me? I know there’s a prophecy about me and this little birthmark of mine, and I want answers. What do you know?”

  Her eyes flash, and I have the urge to back up, but I manage to stay put as she lets her alpha power permeate the air. Clearly, my attempts at throwing her off the scent are failing. I don’t want to chance that she might start questioning me further. There are too many answers I can’t give her. My niece has grown quite bold since the Claiming and appears to be growing further into her alpha powers as the days pass.

  “Abby, sweetheart, don’t do this now. You have extra ears listening.”

  “Extra ears that know a hell of a lot more about me than I do. This cloak-and-dagger bullshit is getting old. In fact, why don’t you join us, I’m sure Justin would love to ask you some questions about my birth father.”

  “Of course, I’ll join you, Abby. I’d love to get to know your men better.” I sling my arm around her shoulders and walk us toward the couches with hopes of distracting her.

  “My men,” she repeats as if tasting it on her tongue. “I like the sound of that, but Auntie, you’re not off the hook.”