Blood Moon Magic

by Isobelle Carmichael

  I saw Chey loaded up in a car with her mates. She still looked shell-shocked, but at least she was speaking again. I am fucking terrified that two of my packmates might have been damaged irreparably by this ordeal, but we’re wolves, and we are resilient. I know I have been forever changed, and I can only imagine the nightmares I will surely endure in the nights to come. What I also know is that I won’t let those assholes take anything else from me. No one says a word on the drive back to the den beyond Justin’s encouraging whispers to Ronnie and the gentle murmurs meant to calm the pup’s whines of fear.

  A cell phone ring cuts through the near silence, and Shaun answers as he continues to drive us home.

  “We have her, Alpha Megan, and we’re on our way to your den with the ladies … and a few guests.”

  “Yes, I understand.” He ends the call and stares at me, “So, that was your mom. She’s very glad you’re alive. She’s happy that we managed to get you all back, and she’s pissed.”

  My wolf snorts.

  Well, that makes three of us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Abby

  When we arrive at the den, we’re ushered toward the war room. It’s basically a large conference room that we use for planning sessions. There’s a large, but simple golden-brown cypress table in the center, and several black leather office chairs surround it. No words are spoken as the guys and I follow my lieutenants to the room, and we sit and wait for things to begin. The room is large enough for twelve, and anyone who can’t fit at the table will stand. Before the dragons came, room was never an issue. It’s nice to have them here.

  I know we’ll be waiting for a while. My mother will want Sacha to look at Ronnie and Cheyenne, and she’ll want to be there for that. I also know I also look like shit, but as a future alpha, my debrief takes precedence over my injuries since none are life-threatening. They hurt though. I’m one giant throbbing wound. I wish my mother had been here to greet me—to pull me into her arms and comfort me, but pack comes first. There are times when my mother is forced to choose between being my mom and being my alpha, and it’s clear she made that decision before I even walked into the room.

  Our chef brings in some snacks and water, as well as a bottle of whiskey. I want to hug her when she places a few ice packs on a tray. She touches me on the shoulder and then cups my face gently in her hands.

  “Oh, mija. I am so overjoyed that you’re alive, but your face.”

  Her eyes rove all over me. “Mija, I may be old, but I promise you,” she leans in close. “I will kill them all.”

  “Thank you, Mary. It’s great to see you too.” I won’t let anyone know how bloodthirsty my surrogate abuela is. That’s just for me.

  “Don’t worry about your mother; she’s feeling overwrought. Her anger is just an overreaction to her nearly losing you. Drink some of that whiskey and put some ice on your eye. I love you so much.” She kisses me on my forehead, and I allow it. At two hundred fifty years old, she’s earned the right to still treat me like a kid when she wants.

  “Mary, can you do me a favor? We came in with a pup, and she’s terrified. I don’t even know her name—only that she’s twelve years old and Deon’s sister. She’s too frightened to shift back, and I didn’t have the heart to force it earlier. If you could start the preparations needed to look after them both while they are here seeking asylum, I would be very grateful.”

  I can see her honey eyes flicker with indecision, but she loves pups and spoiling them. At twelve, Deon’s sister is exceedingly young, and also a goddess damned miracle. I know Mary will take good care of her.

  “Deon is bound tightly to me and the Damas, so he won’t be a problem for you or anyone else. You always had a way with me when I was a pup so ...”

  “Of course, Mija. Say no more.”

  As Mary makes her way out of the room, Marcus serves us each a couple fingers of whiskey, and we sit in uncomfortable silence drinking as we wait for what is sure to be an interrogation.

  Around twenty minutes later, my mother storms into the war room. She slams her hands on the table and glares at all of us, her power washing over the room.

  “Chey is with Sacha. She’s healing already thanks to her potions. Ronnie is going to take a lot longer, but she too will heal. Now can you please tell me how the Death Claws managed to get their hands on you when you have five dragons that were supposed to be protecting you?” my mother fumes, her face red and eyes squinting as she stares at each of my men in turn. “And can you also explain why no one informed me of what the fuck was going on with my own daughter?” The last words are said so low they’re barely audible but filled with so much power, it’s like being plastered to your seat as a plane takes off.

  “I … well,” Shaun starts, but Marcus cuts him off.

  “We failed, Alpha Megan. We failed you, and we failed the pack.” He stares at the ground and visibly swallows before continuing,

  When he looks up, tears are shimmering in his eyes, and I want to stop the inquisition. “But most of all we failed our mate, the one person we are meant to protect above all others.”

  He refuses to look at me, but through our fledgling Bond, I am crushed by the sense of overwhelming guilt that he feels. He, more than any of them, feels responsible for what happened. He thinks he should have done more to keep me from being taken.

  “Marcus … it’s not your fault; the ones at fault are the assholes who actually did this to us,” I interject.

  “I don’t know about that,” my mother mutters under her breath. And at this response, I snap. I cannot believe she would blame my mates for this. There are multiple people at fault.

  “Are you serious?” I explode at her, the anger I’ve tried to contain finally breaking me.

  “My mates have nothing to do with what happened to me. If you want to blame someone, you had better start with our own damn pack because it was Ronnie who sold us out.”

  My mother’s eyes widen with astonishment, and I hear an audible gasp fall from her lips. I keep going,

  “Yes, one of our very own, Mom. She’s the one who told them where to find us. She nearly got Marcus killed. She is the reason that Chey and I were held in some fucked-up dungeon—locked in silver, our magic dampened, and threatened with rape as they tortured us.”

  Tears are pouring down my face, and it annoys the shit out of me because I fucking hate crying.

  “Nathaniel was going to rape me and kill me, Mom,” I say as my voice cracks. I find myself crying so hard that I can’t see through the tears.

  “Abby,” she starts, but I stop her.

  “No, Mom! Please. I need to get away from all of this right now. I need to get away from your judgment!” I spit out, and the malice in my voice is surprising, even to myself. I don’t know why I’m lashing out at her so hard.

  I stand, and walk to the door with unsteady legs, throwing it open so hard it punches a hole in the wall with the knob as it hits it. Then it bounces back and slams shut making everyone in the room jump a bit in reaction.

  “You know, Mom, even with everything Ronnie did, I forgive her because I can promise you, she regrets her actions. I healed her from the ugliness in her soul before we were kidnapped. They only got their hands on her because she went to their den to call it off. They tortured her mercilessly. They raped her, whipped her, and who knows what else, and we heard everything.” I turn and stare her down. “Everything,” I emphasize the word.

  “So, I’m going to invoke sanctuary for Ronnie for as long as she wants to be here, and there will be no trial for her crimes. Anything we would do would pale in comparison!”

  I grab the handle and yank the door roughly open, slamming it behind me as I walk out. Tears continue to blind me as I head toward my suite. I’m walking on auto-pilot, but I can’t breathe. I held it together so well in that dungeon, but now that I’m home it’s all coming out. A scream of frustration escapes me, and I struggle to stand.

  When the hell did I fall? What the fuck? Pull yours
elf together and get up; stop being so weak.

  I hear my men behind me, and while I’m exceedingly thankful they’re following me, I don’t stop. When I reach my room, I peel off my clothing, needing to shower the filth and guilt off me. I can hear the crunch of fabric crusted with old blood and whatever else as it comes over my head. I finish undressing, refusing to look into the mirror. I will look at my face when I’m clean because I can’t handle seeing my reflection right now. Regardless of whatever the mirror shows me, I will be a changed woman. That much is certain.

  My men mutter under their breath as they file into my room, but I turn the shower on drowning them out on my quest to get clean. I don’t even have the patience to wait for the water to heat up. I step in and let the cold shock of water bring me back to some semblance of order.

  Holy fuck that stings.

  Water slides down my body and leaves a trail of fire as it goes, highlighting every cut, bruise, and abrasion on my skin. My wrists are throbbing with my heartbeat, and the water circling the drain runs pink with blood.

  I let the tears fall, and I don’t care who hears me, both in my mind or out of it. I am so tired of crying, but I can’t seem to stop. Sliding down the wall of the shower, I continue to let the water wash away my tears. I sit in the shower for ages, processing the events of the past couple of days and searching myself for the strength to pull myself off the ground and keep going. It’s in there. I know it is. But my chest feels like it’s being crushed, and it’s time to pull myself out of this tailspin.

  “Baby, you have to get out now,” a voice breaks my trance.

  As soon as that smoky voice breaks through, shivers wrack my body, and my teeth start chattering.

  “What’s happening?”

  “We let you stay in here for as long we could, but it’s time to dry off. Let’s get you in some warm clothes.”

  He grabs my hand and lifts me off the floor, turning off the shower as he goes. He gently wraps me in a towel, carefully avoiding pressing it into the gashes on my back. I relax into its softness and the firm arms holding me, before finally looking up and see Kaden’s soft grey eyes on me. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you warm. Marcus made you something to eat, and I think Shaun brought a couple bottles of wine.”

  “Wine sounds good, but I hope you weren’t planning on me sharing because both of those bottles are mine.

  I bite my lip pausing before continuing, “Where is Chey; and how is Ronnie?”

  I ask because I know they will have checked on them while I was in the shower.

  “Don’t worry, my little lush. We brought you your own bottles. Chey is resting with her mates. And Ronnie,” he sighs and rolls his shoulders like he’s uncomfortable with the topic. “She’s in a medically-induced coma. The damage to her body was beyond what even her enhanced shifter powers could heal without excruciating pain, and Sacha felt she could use some peace.”

  His voice drops as he finishes, and I lay my hand over his.

  “Kaden, I can promise you that a coma is the best thing for her right now.” An involuntary shudder overtakes me as the memories rush back.

  Walking like an old woman because I’m so bruised, I make my way to the bedroom remembering her horrific screams as tears trek down my face.

  “Come on; this is fucking ridiculous! Why can’t I stop crying?”

  Justin walks quickly over to me and kneels, wrapping his arms around my middle. “Please let me ease some of your pain,” he pleads.

  “You’re overwrought, and I can feel your agony and your anxiety. If you’ll honor me, I’d like to take some of your pain on myself.”

  “I ...” nothing else comes out my mouth as it just hangs open at the magnitude of his offer. Finally, I close it and shake my head.

  “I can’t do that to you,” I finally get out. “This is my pain to bear. Plus you’ve taken on enough extra pain.”

  I run my fingers through the thick strands of his blonde hair finally understanding that Justin is the most affected by my experience due to his ability to feel my emotions. He can truly empathize with me because he can literally feel my pain. I find myself a bit overwhelmed. There are lines around his eyes that make him look older than his thirty-three years, but I know they’re from stress. I smooth them with my thumb, and my heart jumps a little as he leans into my touch. I lay a soft kiss on his lush mouth, but I pull back when the sting of my cut lips protests.

  On the bed is my favorite sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants. There’s also a sports bra, but no undies, and I smile a little. The guys really don’t like when I wear panties. I put the clothing on, and my breath begins to even out. The anxiety begins to lessen the longer I’m around my guys. I curl on the bed propped up by a few pillows, and the twins sandwich me between them. Marcus walks over to me and sets a tray with a silver cloche covering a plate onto my lap.

  The attention to detail he puts into his presentation brings a weak smile to my face. A small vase on the left of the tray has a single vibrant purple orchid in it. White linen napkins tucked with silverware greet me on the right. Whatever is under the cloche smells incredible, and my mouth waters.

  “So, what smells like heaven?” I ask, gesturing to the tray of food before lifting the cover off. “Pot roast! My favorite.”

  “Well, it’s beef bourguignon,” Marcus stutters, rubbing his neck as a blush blooms across his cheeks. “But that’s basically like fancy pot roast, so you should like it just as much.”

  Marcus seems almost nervous, and it snaps my head up from the perusal of my dinner to look at him. Moving my eyes from him to Justin, whose eyes are shifting away from me, and finally, to Shaun, whose smile seems entirely forced, I begin to wonder what’s wrong.

  “Okay, what is going on?” I ask. “Why are you all acting so weird?”

  “We just want to know what happened, and no one wants to ask,” Justin finally admits.

  “Well, I’ll tell you. Just let me get some of this food in my belly and a glass of wine or two, and then I’ll tell you exactly what happened. But you have to promise not to rush out of here and try to hurt anyone. Nathaniel is mine!” I growl.

  I tuck into my meal savoring the delicious combination of spices and wine dancing on my tongue. After eating nothing for a couple of days, even a hot dog would have been amazing, so this is divine. I devour the meal in record time. I don’t stop until the bowl is empty, and my spoon hits the side of the dish with a clink. Then, I lean back onto the pillows of my bed, sipping on my glass of wine and sigh.

  “Marcus, that was amazing. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says distractedly.

  “I can’t take it anymore, you’ve got to tell us what happened, she-wolf.” Kaleb blurts out, and his impatient tone almost makes me smile.

  He’s never so serious, but the words are stuck in my throat. It’s obvious something happened down there; I’m wearing the evidence on my skin. But thinking you know something, and hearing the details aren’t the same.

  I swallow past the boulder in my throat, taking in their tense expressions.

  I think the shorthand version should do it. They don’t need to know everything, right?

  I think they do.

  Hush, girl.

  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you.

  Her words begin to fissure the minute control I have on my emotions, but they also give me courage.

  “They tortured us,” I begin in a small voice. “All of us. We could hear them torturing Ronnie; her screams would echo in the silence. It was pretty dark down there, so I never knew what the time was. But it seemed like they would wait until we were sleeping, then wake us up with her cries.”

  “When they weren’t hurting her, they were hurting us. We were locked in handcuffs laced with silver and something else that affected our magic. It made us weak. Sometimes they would beat Chey while I watched. It’s my fault; I didn’t scream enough for them. They got the biggest reactions from me when they went after Chey and Ronnie, so
they hurt them the worst. They got off on fucking with us mentally. I’m the reason they’re so damaged. If I could have held back the tears, they might have been okay. The might have been hurt less.”

  I hear their gasps, quick inhales of breath, and then the room gets warm. I don’t have to look up to know what’s happening— the twins are losing control of their powers.

  “It really fucking sucks that we can’t kill anybody because I don’t know if I can promise right now that I won’t try it,” Shaun adds.

  “No,” I say, and I infuse an extra dose of alpha power into it to show just how serious I am.

  “That man threatened to rape and kill me. He raped and tortured one of my packmates; he will be my kill!” I will not let anyone take that right from me unless Ronnie wants him, then I will bow out and kill Bradley instead. My wolf growls in agreement, and I’m pleased that we’re of one accord. I will find a way to get them back for what they did to us.

  Everyone but Shaun agrees immediately. I can see him struggle before he concedes, and I nod my head.

  “Look, what happened to me was messed up, but it could have been worse. Kevin stopped the worst from happening to Chey and me by hiding the key to our cell door and then by leaving it within my grasp before you all stormed their den.”

  “I have a hard time believing he did that out of the goodness of his heart,” Kaden says sardonically.

  “Well, you don’t have to,” I snap, the need for sleep making me cranky. “He did what he did, and I owe him a debt. I will kill his father, but Kevin’s life will be spared.”

  “Okay Abigail, we will honor your wishes. Kevin will be spared, and Alpha Nathaniel is your kill,” Shaun agrees. “You’re going to have to figure out a way around the rules, but we’ll find a way.”