Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2)

by Sam Hall

  Greta was saying something, but her voice sounded muffled and so far away. Boom…boom…boom… His heartbeat resonated through my whole body, every cell vibrating with its beat. Then he moved, just to cup the back of my head, to tip my head back. I knew that and was arching up into his hand before he even moved, a pleased growl rumbling through him.

  Damn… I heard his wry tone in my skull. This… There was something reverent in his tone, which matched perfectly what was rising between us.

  With even the closest relationship, there were boundaries, points of separation, and that was healthy, but this? It was intensely seductive. I felt like I stood up on a clifftop, looking down at the vast ocean of Lorcan. I couldn’t get my mind to encompass it all, everything that rushed up, everything that was him, so I backed off, only to run forward and leap off that edge, executing a perfect swan dive down, down into him.

  His hands tightened, a sharp intake of breath telling me he felt it, the moment I dove into him. His lips found mine, inarticulate sounds escaping our throats as we ate at each other’s mouths.

  I knew Lorcan was brittle. He was constantly trying to reapply this hard coating to protect himself from the world around him, but under that? I’d caught glimpses of it, hadn’t I? I’d been warned, yet here I was, utterly gutted by what I felt. To continue with the sea metaphor, I floated, was buoyed by him, by his love, and that was dizzying and terrifying in turns.

  Human existence was largely driven by fear and desire, sex and death. We wanted, wanted, wanted until we didn’t, and then we ran like hell from that. The constant hustle inside us of desire and need pushed us onwards, while the threat of fear and death nipped at our heels. So what was it like to lose all of that? To have every crack and crevice filled, to have every injury washed away? I couldn’t feel fear or anguish or pain when I was with him. He wouldn’t allow it. Zack had been my rock, propping me up until I stood on my own two feet, but Lorcan

  He celebrated me.

  I was his girl, that throbbed hard and bright inside him, but with that possessive thought came an avalanche of memories. When I was tired, my eyes getting heavily lidded as I snuggled into someone’s sides, the small exhales I made when falling asleep in our bed. The grace with which I walked, something I did not feel at all. The twist of my hand as I waved them around when I was getting agitated about something, but they were just a confetti of memories that passed quickly.

  A version of myself I didn’t recognise stepped out of that, my hands covered in wraps, my hair pulled back into a tight braid, muscle definition I was pretty sure I didn’t actually possess showing as his model of me shifted, tapping her fists together.

  I was strong, nigh on invincible, which was daunting, but he found that reassuring, I felt. I could weather all of this—being nix or ulva, the shit at home, the packs here, even Father Wolf. He only saw me meeting the struggles head-on, the pack at my side. He didn’t see all the doubt or worry, just me stepping up, like I always would.

  Like I had to him.

  I had to pull my lips free when I felt it, what was at the core of the draw of me for him. He could stop building walls because he knew I’d step in over them, tear them down and drag him close, wind my body and my heart around him, and we’d protect each other.

  My eyes flicked open, his a reflection of mine, blazing phosphorus bright as we just stared, sucking in breaths.

  “Lorcan…” I hissed, unable to get any other words past the lump in my throat. My eyes fluttered, blinking away the tears that followed as I saw what he saw.

  We hadn’t had long together, everything crammed in and forced by my family, the funeral, my call. That always worried me, not feeling like I had enough time to really let things develop, but that wasn’t the way he saw things. We were just taking the first step on a path that would last our lives, where we would build all the things he never had—a pack, people that loved him, happiness.

  “I can feel it now, that connection.” He nodded to Greta. “Time to show them what you can do, killer,” he said with a rakish grin, but it took me a second to realise what he meant.

  “Margaret.” Greta gestured for my trainer to come back into the centre of the mats, everyone else fanning out. I felt…something rush inside me when she approached, nodding before holding her fists out. I bumped my knuckles against hers, and then I exploded.

  We’d need to train with this, I realised as soon as I moved, feeling my body fly across the mat with a speed that was dizzying. But I compensated quickly. I’d shifted from one body to the other since puberty, having to adjust to the constraints of each, so my mind assessed the differences, then laughed.

  I felt lit within, a bright fire burning, fuelling my muscles and bones as I danced across the floor, spanning the distance in seconds, while Margaret struggled to find a target. She wasn’t tapping into her pack, she couldn’t be, her movements were so damn slow. I shuffled in, getting up and under her guard with little effort, her every strike telegraphed at what felt like a molasses pace. I had to pull my punches, I realised all too late, because what was powering my strikes was something else.

  “You don’t punch a person,” Zack had told me, “you punch through them. If you aim for where they are, you don’t exert enough force. If you hit them where they are” —he demonstrated on a dummy we had in the gym— “you don’t have enough force. You bounce off each other. But if you drive through…”

  I watched his whole body pivot, all of those muscles working to throw their weight and power behind the punch. The dummy went flying back, landing on the ground with a thud. My eyes went wide when I saw it, knowing in that moment, I wanted to be able to hit like that more than anything else in the world. He grinned when he straightened up, breathing in deep, no doubt scenting my excitement in more ways than one.

  “Show me,” was all I would say, so he did.

  “Fuck!” I snarled, already having struck out, knowing I was going to total her if this hit connected. A low hum started in the room, rising and rising as I watched my fist unerringly arrow towards Margaret’s jaw. The sound got louder and louder and then bang!

  Have you seen that scene in the movie, Snatch, when Brad Pitt gets hammered, his whole body lifting up into the air, only to come slamming down on the mat? That’s what happened, what I did to Margaret. My muscles locked down tight, anything to keep me still, the throbbing, pulsing power inside pushing at me, wanting more, more, more. Lorcan was at my side in seconds, his fists and mine balled tight, both of us looking the fallen woman over like she was fallen prey.

  The older women came closer, the hum getting louder and louder, until finally, a cascade of golden sparkles filled the air. The tension leached out of our bodies, dissipating in an almost euphoric rain, the sparkles instantly absorbed by the ground beneath us. It was only then that they closed in on us.

  “So now you see,” Greta said, clasping her hands in front of her as the other women saw to Margaret, golden light trickling from their hands into her body. “When the divine masculine is allowed to run free, it empowers women. No single man would put themselves forward as alpha faced with a display like this. Everyone within your pack will need to tap into that power to share it, and when you do?” Her smile was gentle, beatific. “Nothing will hold you back.”

  Lorcan slung his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

  “This is it, love,” he said. “This is how we’re gonna kick that bitch’s arse.”

  I looked up at the rest of my pack, who had come closer, saw the nods all around the circle.

  “So anyone can pull from the others?” I asked Greta.

  “It takes practise. The link to you makes it easier, unless there are emotional connections between your mates?” she replied.

  I looked at Mason, standing there with Declan and Micah on either side of him, then looked over at his brother.

  “Of a sort,” I said.

  “Then this is what we must work on. Making those connections stronger, tapping into each other’s power.
What you have will be truly dazzling,” she said, sparing Margaret a glance as her mates helped her to her feet. “But you won’t be able to spar with anyone else until you’ve mastered your abilities. Now, let’s go and have some lunch while I update my grandson on your progress.”

  Chapter 41

  “Good, good…” Greta said as I moved across the floor of the training room, Zack matching me move for move. It was like some kind of savage dance, one that caught everything in its wake, small eddies of wind forming as we kicked, punched, and struck out in increasingly complex ways. We’d initially started sparring, but something odd had happened the longer Zack and I trained together.

  This had become our daily routine for over a week now. Have breakfast with Jake and his pack, call Bridge and see how she was going, go to the training room with Greta and her coven, and work on connecting with each of my mates. With some, it was all too easy.

  “Yes, your connection with Zack is incredibly strong,” Greta said when we finally came to a stop. “There is something more. The way your movements echo the others…”

  We each glanced at the other, snorting when we saw we had the same loose stance, standing as if mirror images of each other.

  “I can…” we both started to say, his smile spreading in response. I could feel it, we could feel it, that connection. He was so fucking proud of me. I knew that anyway. Zack didn’t hide shit, not unless he thought it’d be too hard for me to handle. But beyond the incredible warmth of his gaze, I felt it, bubbling up inside me like it did in him. Me being able to move like he did, follow those same steps, keep up no matter how hard or fast he pushed himself, it settled something inside Zack that he’d been holding onto, that I hadn’t even sensed.

  I worried Zack. Could I hold my own? Would I accept who I was, find my mates? Would they look after me? Would we get on? Would we be strong as a pack, making every person a priority, building each other up rather than dragging each other down? A big snarl of emotion and concerns and memories from his childhood rose and fell away, but he just grinned at me. I gazed into those warm dark eyes and knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

  “I can feel him,” I answered belatedly. “And he can feel me. Everything, every sense, every feeling, every plan. We see what we need our bodies to do, and they do it.”

  Greta nodded slowly. “That is…” She swallowed, maintaining an air of calm, but why did I think that was somewhat fractured? “That is more than we have seen with other ulva we have trained, but perhaps that’s to be expected.” She smiled gently. “You are a special pack, with other gifts. But we must continue your training. You have not reached the same depth of connection with all of your mates?”

  I looked over to the other guys, standing there in just gym shorts and sneakers, skin glistening. Mason had them running laps while I worked with each man one on one. Well, every man but him.

  “No,” I said, staring at him, watching him meet my eyes for seconds before looking away. “I was always going to connect easiest with Zack.” A big hand landed on my shoulder, dragging me closer, fingers tangling with my braid. My eyes slid closed for a second, feeling the double pleasure of his hands on me and how he responded to that.

  “And who will be the most difficult?” Greta asked the question, but she followed everyone’s gaze, knowing the answer already. Mason’s only acknowledgement was to straighten up, square his shoulders. “Then he is who you will train with next. As dazzling as that display was, it’s not what’s needed right now. The whole pack needs to mesh.”

  Her eyes flicked sideways when I shuffled my feet. Sure, some of the spike of anxiety I was currently feeling was spurred by trying to connect with Mason. He seemed to hover at the edges of our group, organising the others, making sure I got time with all of them. All but him. But that wasn’t the only thing standing between us.

  “You won’t be whole without all of them,” Stevie had said. We both knew what that meant, Aidan’s golden eyes staring out of the darkness at me suddenly appearing in my mind, those full lips twisting into a smile.

  “The whole pack,” Greta repeated, as if the message needed to be driven home, but she just sniffed when I didn’t reply. “The rest of you are dismissed. Your mate will work with Mason today.”

  He nodded in agreement, probably because Micah and Declan lagged behind a little, as if seeking confirmation from the real authority here. Zack walked up and clapped him on the shoulder, his brother starting slightly. Mason shot him a dark look, but Zack just smirked.

  “We were always gonna end up here,” he said. “Stop being a prick and let her in.”

  “Let her in…” Mason’s words were barely more than an exhaled breath, but I held them, taking a step towards him, never able to hold out for long. He just stood there, looking at everywhere but at me.

  Why was this so fucking hard? When his back was against the wall, when we were celebrating escaping imminent danger, that hard beta shell cracked and something, someone else came to the fore. A hot eyed Mason who made big declarations about where I fitted into his heart, who told me he… I couldn’t even think about it because once the danger was over, so was he. Everything was locked back up tight behind that impassive, calm, supportive façade. He went right back to being my beta, not my lover. I watched him grow obviously more and more uncomfortable and let out a long sigh.

  “We’re going to need more time,” I told Greta, aiming for calm and rational and failing. I didn’t want to live like this, seeing rejection in any display of reluctance from him, but I couldn’t help it. Those scars were still there, livid and red and only just starting to heal, and Greta wanted to… I shook my head.

  “Enough excuses,” she replied sharply. “You know what to do. Show me, or I’ll not waste any more time on this.”

  I let out a snort, shaking my head, but I turned to face my…mate? Was that the right word for us? I couldn’t tell, even after all we’d been through. My breath hissed through clenched teeth as I tried to centre myself, ignoring the frantic roil of my stomach. I moved closer because he sure as hell wasn’t going to, was he? But I stopped.

  Fuck him, fuck her, fuck all of them. I was kinda shocked by the rush of anger, but once it flushed through me, I knew where it came from. Here was me, putting my heart out on my sleeve again, and Mason, where was he? Looking torn and uncomfortable. Somehow, I was eighteen all over again, ready to make my choice, hoping like hell it was going to be received positively, but for a crucial difference. I was a woman grown, so I could see the signs that had escaped me as a teen.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I said, smiling with absolute bitterness as the words spilled out. They grew once expressed, getting bigger, gathering momentum. “You don’t want…” The end of the sentence, it was a knife edge pushed up against my throat, and as soon as I finished it, it’d slice down. My heart’s blood would spill, again. I’d be aching, again. My jaw locked down, my eyes boring into him, taking every aspect of his stance, his body, his expression in. My teeth ground, but I wasn’t going to live my life like this, with a knife against my neck. “You don’t want—”

  “No.” He said the word, broaching the gap between us and reaching out for me, paused, hesitated, then placed a hand on my shoulder, seeming to breathe only when that happened. “No,” he told me again, tilting my head back, searching my eyes to see if I understood. “No,” he said, rejecting my assertion, not me this time, pulling me close, holding me tight then tighter as his arms locked around me. “No,” he said much more firmly, stroking his hand through my hair. A prickle against my skin was the only warning I got of our impending connection, and then the world fell away for him.

  “What the fuck are they doing to my mother?”

  There was no training room, no adult Mason. He was replaced by a much younger version of himself, standing in a hallway, shaking with rage. Muscles too well honed for a thirteen-year-old popped as his hands went to fists, his eyes blazing silver.

  “Is this what you did? Took her aw
ay from Dad to do what, Bruce? Be your whore?”

  Bruce must have been the other man. Dark hair, dark eyes, there was something familiar in his face. Those cheekbones, that ruffle of wavy hair, I saw Zack in him. He stood in front of a large heavy door, but the sounds that came though it… I frowned, he frowned, shaking his head as he crossed his arms.

  “Watch your mouth, Mason,” Bruce growled out, seeming to loom larger.

  No, not this, I heard Mason say inside my head. Before.

  I watched the two figures disappear, fading into the darkness, only to be replaced by another.

  This was when Mum told Dad about her other mate.

  “You…” The face of the man who loomed above us was a mask, so contorted by anger, by pain, that it appeared more beast than man. His fangs glistened bright white in the artificial light. “You have another mate?”

  “L-Look, Neil, I-I never meant—” she said in a stammering, placating tone. His mother, I felt strongly, even though I only got a partial view of a woman from my viewpoint. This was Mason’s mother, so he was…

  “Never meant what? To break my fucking heart?” His voice, Mason’s dad’s, it was part howl, punctuated by his fist slamming down on the table, the many dishes with all the delicious food she’d been fussing over all day clattering, some falling to the floor in a sodden crash. “No, no fucking way. I found you when we were still in primary school. I knew the whole damn time that you were her, you were my mate. Whatever the fuck this is—”

  “It’s real, Neil.” We heard the tremor in her voice, felt her fingers tighten way too hard around ours, but we dared not say anything about it, not right now. The adults, the people who kept the household running, who made the rules and enforced them seemed to have forgotten what they were right now.