“Insolent dog”, Lyulf thundered. “For that I will gut you all and take it myself. Where is my dagger?”
The only reply Lyulf received was growling from the two men standing beside Luna. It started low then increased in loudness and menace. Luna stepped back as Michael started his Change. The air before her shimmered with iridescent light and suddenly her brother had transformed into a wolf, his grey coat gleaming in the fading light. His hackles stood up and his growls frightened Luna with their intensity.
“How sweet”, came the Fae’s mocking voice. “The little puppy wants to play”.
Michael charged at Lyulf, his jaws snapping. When pieces of black material flew into her eyes Luna realised that Chase’s t-shirt had ripped off during his own transformation. A whirlwind of black and grey fur along with a blur of white material was all she could see as the three fought each other. Growls filled the night, the cracking of bone and teeth tearing cries from Luna’s mouth.
A yelp caught Luna’s attention and a gust of air brushed against her face. Her eyes followed a blur of grey fur. Michael lay on the grass, panting hard, as though he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Blood started seeping through his earlier wounds, the crimson liquid dark against the grey.
“Michael!” Luna screamed, running towards him. Chase jumped at Lyulf, his jaws locking onto his arm. For a second, his face betrayed the pain he must have felt but then he landed a punch into Chase’s side. The crack of his ribs breaking was deafening to Luna’s ears.
A howl broke through the night. The sound of thuds on the earth told her that something was coming, the sound getting louder and louder until a pair of wolves jumped past Luna, the fur briefly touching her skin as gentle as a velvet glove caressing her face.
The two new wolves jumped in, grey whirlwinds which circled Lyulf in a frenzy of biting and scratching. The Fae fought against them, a deadly tornado of power himself. They were all so fast that Luna’s eyes could barely make out who was who. Michael stirred beneath her fingers, growling as he struggled off his side and onto all fours. Head down low, he jumped back into the fight, his paws clawing at the enemy.
Terror filled every part of Luna as she watched Lyulf raining blows on the wolves. Chase fought to stand up from the spot where he had landed after the Fae had punched him. Pain radiated off him but still he battled against it, inching closer to his target.
A screech pierced through the clearing, as though the sound was an arrow and shot in her direction. Luna covered her ears with her hands, her face scrunching up in pain. Looking up she realised what it was.
The creature at her window was screaming from the other side of the pond.
“Go, goblin! Restrain the girl”, Lyulf commanded, backhanding one of the wolves.
Goblin? Luna thought. This …thing is a goblin? Whatever it was, it began loping scurrying towards her, its thin arms clutching the ground as it bounded on its back legs. The greyish tone of its skin appeared almost black in the darkness, its saucer-like eyes allowing her to track it as it headed towards her.
A scream of pure terror fled out of Luna’s mouth. She hurried to her feet, stumbling, trying to get away as the goblin grew closer and closer. Instincts screaming inside, she raced in the direction of the bench she had sat in earlier, but with one bound the goblin jumped onto her back.
Pain exploded down her back, red hot pain. Arching her back, a flash of grey caught her eye before she felt another rip of agony across her cheek. The creature screamed in her ear as her head was yanked backwards, her scalp burning with pain. Luna reached up and dug her fingers into the goblins body, trying to force his grip on her hair loose. Once she had a grip, she flung the creature away from her.
Raising a shaky hand to her face, she came away with blood on her fingers. The goblin had ripped her skin apart with his elongated nails but she had no time to dwell on it. That piercing scream curdled her blood as the goblin pounced on her once again. Small bursts of pain informed her that it had managed to scratch her again, the blood seeping onto its skin. It managed to rip the leather jacket she was wearing.
A thud forced Luna’s head up, the soft touch of flowers stroking her face. At first, all she could see were the petals of the wolfsbane, darkened by the night, but then she saw red. The dagger had fallen out of the ripped jacket, the scarlet cloth appearing like a pool of darkened blood. With another ear-splitting screech, the goblin leaped off Luna, seized the bundle and bounded in the direction of its master.
“Michael! Chase!” Luna screamed. Glancing in the direction, the red wolf she saw earlier sprang towards the goblin, snarling as it snapped its jaws. The goblin dived to one side, narrowly missing those sharp teeth, hissing as they finally made contact with a spindly leg. Shrieks of agony emanated from it which only intensified when those jaws loosened so it could grip it around the waist. It threw the bundle in the air towards Lyulf, followed by a spray of blood.
The red wolf’s muzzle was drenched in the goblin’s blood, the top half of the creature hitting the floor. The bottom half firmly clasped within the wolf’s jaws.
Lyulf dove for the bundle, catching it in an elegant movement that would be the envy of any ballet dancer. “It is mine!” he cried in jubilation, but it was short-lived.
A grey wolf with a black strip down its back jumped at Lyulf’s hand. Dropping the bundle, Lyulf struck the wolf with his leg. A pop indicated that the blow had broken something and the subsequent thud told Luna the wolf didn’t have the dagger.
More wolves emerged out of the dark cover of the trees, racing towards the Fae who was bending down to pick up the dagger. Despite having three wolves locked onto various body parts, blood seeping from the wounds, Lyulf easily collected the dagger, still enfolded in its red covering.
He had the dagger.
“It is mine”, Lyulf repeated, softer this time. One of the wolves, a glorious creature with snow white fur and striking green eyes, stopped moving, as though it had frozen solid. One by one, the others released their grip on him and moved backwards.
Only Michael, his grey coat seeped in blood, his side sporting an ugly open wound, stayed close, growling as Lyulf slowly uncovered the object he had desired for thousands of years.
The blade was bright, almost too bright to look at. Lyulf stared at it, his eyes burning with satisfaction as he turned it from side to side.
Luna was flooded with fear. The wolves had stopped attacking Lyulf who held the one object that could force them into weapons that would allow him to rule the world.
She couldn’t allow him to do that. She would die before she would allow him to.
Her bag had fallen into the wolfsbane. Quickly, she searched for a weapon, her fingers locating a tire iron, but her grip wasn’t tight enough and it dropped into the flowers. When her fingers clutched it properly this time she felt something soft, as though it had been coated in some soft sugary substance.
Brushing her hair out of her face, she started towards Lyulf and the unmoving wolves.
She was about ten meters behind him when he started laughing.
“It’s mine! No one can stop me, not even the great goddess herself. Come my pets, let us bring about a new era. The humans will bow to me or they will be ripped apart!”
Whipping his head around, Luna caught a glimpse of fury on his face before the tire iron struck his face. Head whipping backwards, Luna screamed. “Michael, now!”
Whatever hold Lyulf had had on the wolves dissipated with her words. Michael sprang forward, his powerful jaws fastening around the Fae’s throat. The red wolf locked onto an arm, another wolf onto an ankle, until they all had a body part in their jaws. Michael tore out part of his throat, the wound creating a spray of blood that any horror movie producer proud. Lyulf screamed, his eyes blazing with fury, his body attempting to throw the wolves off.
It was when the white wolf dropped their part of his body that Luna acted. Still holding onto the tire iron, she screamed, bringing it down on his face with such a force it coul
d rival a werewolf’s strength. The impact tore screams from Lyulf’s throat, and the hissing of burning skin could be heard over it.
Luna raised the weapon over her head and swiftly brought it back down again, hitting his nose and mouth. Over and over again she struck him, her own screams matching his until they were both silent and the only sound that could be heard in the clearing was the sizzling of Lyulf’s flesh.
Finally she dropped the weapon, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding.
The air filled her lungs but it didn’t refresh her. Instead, the act of breathing caused her to fill pain. A wave of dizziness flooded through her and she fell to the floor. Her fingers touched something, something cold.
The dagger.
Lyulf lay still on the ground, his body a gory mess of blood and burnt flesh but she didn’t want to take any chance. Drawing in a breath as deep as she could, she gripped the dagger and plunged it into his chest.
A strangled sound from the bloody body before her startled her but Luna forced the dagger out and then plunged it into his chest again. A shimmer of silvery light danced before her eyes and then she felt the warm touch of human fingers on her hands.
Glancing upwards, Luna was thankful to see her brother there. Ignoring the fact that he was obviously naked and saturated in blood and open wounds, she gave him a small smile, the relief rolling off her in waves.
“Give me the dagger, Luna”, he croaked. Wordlessly, she allowed him to take it from her hands. Once he had it, he plunged it into the Fae and then reached into the wound. Desperately trying not to throw up, Luna watched him as he pulled a barely beating heart out of the cavity.
Lyulf was dead but Michael wasn’t done yet.
Taking the dagger, he used it to sever the Fae’s head from his body. The dagger cut through the bone and sinew as though it was made of nothing but butter. Closing her eyes, Luna fought against another surge of light-headedness.
Michael stood up, although it took him time to do so. Clutching the dagger in his hand he let loose a scream. Not of pain, not of anger or frustration. It was a scream of primeval satisfaction, of victory against a formidable enemy.
A war-cry worthy of a king.
The wolves began howling, joining in the battle cry with their own unique voices. To Luna’s ears it sounded beautiful, as though magic had found a voice and she was listening to it sing.
It was the last thing she heard as she collapsed to the ground.
Epilogue
The sun caressed Luna’s skin, a light breeze playing with her hair. It was almost as though the wind was made of a thousand fingers running through those pale golden locks and the image made her smile softly.
She was sitting out on the porch in an old rocking chair, Michael having discovered it by chance. Even though it was hot, a steaming cup of Earl Grey nestled in the palm of her hands. The sound of birds chirping in the trees created a calming atmosphere, as though nothing could go wrong.
Earlier on that day, she and Michael had said goodbye to their parents. They had both been cremated, the pastor delivering a beautiful speech about how wonderful they had been, living good lives and looking out for everyone in town. Several people had got up and talked about how much George and Sherrie England had meant to them. Luna wept softly, Michael holding her hand, Chase sitting next to her handing her tissues.
It was a beautiful ending to something that had started so terribly wrong.
After Michael had beheaded Lyulf, Luna had woken up in hospital covered in wires and tubes. Immediately upon waking she had thrown up all over the doctor who had been examining her. He had actually been nice about it despite the smell. Michael and Chase had been waiting for her to wake up, concern written all over their faces.
The smell had to have been worse for two werewolves with extremely sensitive noses.
When Luna could finally focus, and stopped throwing up over everyone, the doctor had explained that she was experiencing the effects of aconitine, or wolfsbane poisoning.
“How?” she had croaked, her throat feeling as though it was made of sandpaper.
“Your brother tells me you fell into some wolfsbane,” he said. “The cuts on your back, hands and face meant that the poison was able to enter your system much quicker than by just touch alone. You’re incredibly lucky that you only absorbed a little amount of the poison – if you had any more you’d be dead now”.
Luna had just nodded, her body feeling weak and tired. When they were alone, Michael and Chase had explained what had happened. She had collapsed in the woods, her body covered in sweat, barely breathing. They had rushed her to the hospital. She had been asleep for nearly thirty hours. They had told the doctors that she had stumbled into a patch of wolfsbane on their property. They were sceptical about the cuts on her back but they advised to dig up the flowers and burn it all.
Two days later Luna had been given the all clear to go home. The tingling had all gone, as had the headaches and sweating, but she still felt a little shaky, as though her legs didn’t want to work. On the way home Michael told her Angel was locked away, waiting to have her tried for attempting to kill him.
When she got back to the house she found Pierre had called her dozens of times.
Telling him that she had slept with Chase had almost been as hard as walking into the woods that night. She knew back then that there was going to be pain and it was the same feeling she got when she finally rang him. At first he had been silent, as though he was trying to understand the joke but eventually he realised she was telling him the truth. He had sworn briefly in French, something that he had never done in her presence before, and told her an icy goodbye before hanging up on her.
Chase had found her crying, cold tears trailing down her face. His touch caused her to look up, his face softening as he brought his lips down upon hers. There had been no force, no demand, just a soft kiss, one that tasted like rain on a summer’s day. Chase’s kiss refreshed her, enticed her, promising so much more.
He was temptation but should she give into that desire?
Pierre had left her, rightly so. She hadn’t expected him to forgive her in the slightest and she still felt the heavy blanket of guilt from cheating on him, but what happened had happened. She couldn’t change that. Nothing could. Michael hadn’t said anything specifically but the idea of his best friend and his baby sister sleeping together didn’t sit well with him, although he told Luna that whatever happened he’d stay out of it.
Chase hadn’t pushed for more than that one kiss. “When you’re ready you’ll come to me”, he had said, his breath warm on her ear, still smelling oh wild herbs and honey.
Luna was undecided when it came to Chase. He had affected her in a way that no other man had ever done. His chocolate brown eyes and self-assured grin did something to her, tempting her.
Bringing the cup to her lips, Luna felt the hot liquid slide down her throat. Glancing upwards, she watched Chase staring at her as though she was the only woman in the world. The four buttons on his pristine white shirt were unbuttoned, revealing an expanse of smooth tanned skin.
Temptation had never looked so good.
About the Author
Lian Slayford is a qualified archaeologist specialising in Religious Archaeology. Studying at University College of London, she graduated with honours before starting a career in content writing. She loves anything and everything to do with history, mythology, religion and travel and combining all these elements together makes for a very happy writer.
Living in Europe, America and China has allowed her broaden her horizons, get to know the local traditions and cultures and hone her writing skills. Her love of adventure and anything different makes for interesting and fresh result. She has ghost-written numerous travel and city guides for blogs, websites and eBooks. Temptation of the Wolf: A Silver Moon Novel is her first fiction book to be published.
Come visit her website, Beautiful World Escapes, for more travel related guides and information.
Temptation of the Wolf: A Silver Moon Novel (Book 1) Page 12