Moon-Kissed

by Amelia Hutchins

  The Sacred Library was lost when the darkness had first appeared in the world, consuming everything it touched. Soon after, creatures started evolving and receiving powers. The darker the world got, the stronger the Moon Clan’s powers grew, and we began to age into immortality. But so, too, did the Kingdom of Night and the monsters that crawled out from the shadows of the spreading darkness, feasting on those who held inner light.

  The Temple of the Moon Goddess had glowed with energy, beckoning those who held her powers into it, and a new era had begun, forming the Order of the Moon. The Order trained and employed an elite group of warriors with powers fed to them by the moon herself.

  Each warrior with me had been plucked from their homes at a young age and trained for battle. Most were happy to be chosen, considering the power they held was a blessing. To be selected and taken from your home, guaranteed your family’s protection from the Kingdom of Night and the plague of darkness. Others, like us, found it a curse to be taken from their families and sent off to fight a battle that we’d neither wanted nor craved.

  There wasn’t a choice if the moon called you, and no one fought to end the selection process. Most of us were chosen so young that we didn’t remember our homeland or the families we’d left behind. I’d had Landon, but we were brother and sister; both called to serve the moon. Our family was also one that had always serviced. I’d grown up inside the temple and had begun training before I could fully form sentences.

  Lately, the Order was keeping secrets, and with the moon sickness passing through the lands, it was growing harder to trust them. The sickness only seemed to affect the moon-touched creatures. It was spreading like wildfire through the Order, so months ago, they’d sent out a large, handpicked group of warriors to search for the Sacred Library. No one knew if it had survived the plague of darkness or had been consumed by it like everything else.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone is alive down there,” Amo stated through the mask she wore, her hair covered by the heavy cloak. Our cloaks concealed our identities and protected against the long winter that had started a decade ago on the Badlands border.

  “Someone’s alive down there,” I announced, countering her statement. “The torches burn for only a few hours before depleting the oil. Someone lit them recently.”

  A loud squeal cut through the air, piercing the night. Turning, I saw Amo hold out her gloved wrist for Scout, the owl she’d trained from an owlet, to land. He was a beautiful, white snow owl with large wings that flapped, creating a soft wind around us as it settled on her arm. Amo clucked her tongue and held out her other hand as Scout dropped the husk into her hand. Passing his bounty off to me, Amo withdrew his treat before allowing him to crawl onto her shoulder to devour the morsel of meat.

  My heart clenched as I brought the husk to my nose, recoiling from the scent before peering out over the town. Amo’s throat bobbed, and she turned, locking her gaze with mine. Her head shook slowly before she tried for words, failing. I handed her back the husk to confirm what I’d smelled on the victim’s dried flesh.

  “Days or maybe a week since they lived,” Amo said vehemently, her grief turning to rage. “You won’t find anything living down there. Not anyone from the town, at least. Whoever is down there, they’re either immune to the darkness or one of our people pillaging through the dead’s coffers.”

  “We’re going through the village either way.” My spine tingled as if eyes were on us, watching. Unease flitted through me, yet I ignored it. “We can’t spare the time to go around the mountains, not and make it to the next town in time to meet up with the others. We need to know what they found. Once we enter the village, if we encounter anyone, we will dismount and sneak around anything present since the horses won’t be able to move quicker than our blades. Plan for an ambush; hope it isn’t one,” I stated, moving back to mount my horse, Chivalry.

  The ride down the cliffside was slow and treacherously steep. We didn’t dare enter through the main entrance into the town, knowing whoever was there, watched it for travelers. Under cover of darkness and the cloaks we wore, no one would be able to discern who or what we were. The sliver of the moon offered little magic to fuel our power, which meant if we faced off against an ambush, our skills and training would be used instead of the moon’s magic.

  Inside the village, we moved silently along the sides of the houses. After a few nerve-racking moments, we turned onto the main street, and a husk blew across our path. I swallowed down the bile that burned the back of my throat again. No sound met our ears as we paused, looking through the shadows with our enhanced vision to ferret out any hidden enemies.

  No one spoke as we started forward. The horses’ hooves’ over the cobblestone was the only noise heard in a once-bustling village filled with life. The shop windows were covered in dust, a telltale sign the inhabitants hadn’t been alive in more than a week. No stench of death or rotten bodies met my nose. Nor did any coppery tang of blood fill the air, which was a telling sign of a battle. Nothingness was here, which caused my throat to tighten from the loss of life within the village.

  The touch of darkness was absolute death to those not immune to its murderous grasp. It consumed everything but skin, leaving only a leathery scrap of flesh behind. Books sat abandoned on a bench where a small leather husk remained stuck beneath it, as if the victim had been holding them when caught by the icy claws and sucked dry.

  A door opened ahead of us, and the horses stopped. Slowly, they stepped back with a click of our tongues against our teeth. The subtle scent of male wafted heavily in the air, tingling in my nose, and I sat still without breathing.

  “We’re not alone.” I swallowed, climbing down from my horse while the others silently followed my lead. “Chivalry, stay out of the way,” I ordered, barely above a whispered breath.

  Nervousness filled the group at the sound of us drawing our weapons. The tension mounted with the gentle clang of metal filling the darkness while we pulled down our facemask and prepared to fight.

  Apprehension took hold, sending a shiver of restlessness rushing down my spine. I nodded toward a large home, noting the door was still open and no lights burned from inside. The door shifted, and I paused, nodding twice before jerking my chin to the right. It was the signal that we would move toward it as one unit and clear the home out together.

  The others followed my lead, creating an arch that spread out like wings behind me. My silver cloak ruffled in the breeze, sending an icy wave of wind up my back. The short blades I held ignited with blue moon scripture, pulsing with magic. It was the only indication of who we were until the moon raised high in its precipice. Considering it was a new moon, it wouldn’t offer us much light to ward against the darkness, nor would it provide us any power.

  At the door, we all paused, then I rushed in first. Barely avoiding the red rune-covered sword that swung at me, I lifted my blades, scissoring them toward the warrior. If he were untrained, it would have easily unhanded him of his weapon. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. I spun as my team slipped behind me into the house. They took defensive positions at my back, guarding it as more hooded figures engaged against us.

  I watched the sparks my blades created while trying to hold the sword between them, failing. A foot lifted, and I jumped back, moving outside, barely avoiding the boot from hitting my stomach and knocking me down. Dancing around and onto the porch, I ducked as the sword sang past me, slamming into the wood baluster.

  I lifted my foot, slamming it into the very male appendage that was every man’s weakness. The grunt that expelled from his lungs was satisfactory, but it hadn’t slowed the warrior down. I shot backward again as he swung angrily. Lowering my body, I sprang into the air, flipping over the steps when the sword swerved toward me again. It sang through the air, driven by the anger of the male wielding it.

  The man leaped from the porch, following me with his swords cutting through the air as the loud sounds of metal clashing continued inside the house. T
he combatant slammed his sword into my blade, causing my hand to burn with the pain from the hard blow driven by formidable strength. I swung my second one, narrowly missing cutting through the man’s middle, but he bent his body back at the last moment, and my blade caught air instead of flesh. His foot slammed into my stomach, and I gasped, moving deftly with agility learned from training.

  His sword sailed toward me, crashing loudly against one of my blades, sending the weapon flying out of my grip. I lifted the second blade in time to deflect his return swing, falling backward as his leg swept against mine, unseating my feet.

  I rolled the moment I reached the ground, dodging the sword he sent toward me. I growled as my cloak stuck on something, tearing at it until I freed it. Jumping to my feet, I barely deflected more powerful blows until I went on the offense, parrying his firm, punishing strikes until I spun, swinging up to dislodge his blade.

  The moment I’d disarmed him, he rushed forward without warning, taking us both to the ground. The crash onto the hard surface made my teeth chatter as pain rocked through my spine, and my weapon went sailing across the cobblestone. With his heavy weight holding me down, I thrust my hips up, trying to unseat him. Grabbing my arms, he held them above my head while I continued to buck wildly.

  I couldn’t see into the darkness of the cloak he wore. I couldn’t make out his features or judge his species. Growling in rage, I intensified the bucking of my body against him until my knee slipped between his thighs, ousting him from my waist, rolling us into the opposite position.

  I slipped my hand to my boot, intending to draw the blade within, until the moon shone down, forcing us to pause as it appeared with a shot of power its light held. My eyes lowered to the creature, finding ice-blue eyes staring up at my white hair and moonlit eyes. My lips parted, and he lowered his gaze to them, narrowing his eyes while he took in my delicate features.

  I should have been using his surprise against him, but I couldn’t look away, held captive by the masculine face that was sharp edges and lines that looked at me hungrily. It probably wasn’t the best time to appease my curiosity.

  The warrior’s lips curled into a grin, and he rolled us without warning, using the moon’s sudden appearance to catch me off guard. He lifted his free hand to his head, pushing back his cloak to reveal midnight-colored hair and silver flecks of moonshine dancing within his eyes. He studied my face and then turned toward the fighting still occurring in the house where the moonlight hadn’t reached. His lips parted, but he paused at the sickening snarl of dark creatures exploded all around us.

  The warrior turned, whistling loudly at the sound of creatures from the plague of darkness entering the town. I swallowed, taking in his high cheekbones and full mouth. He wasn’t like the men of the Moon Clan, or delicate as most of them appeared. His eyes slid back to me, finding me watching him silently.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, and I resumed struggling to get away from him before the dark creatures reached us and ripped apart our bodies. “I asked you a question. I expect it to be answered, little girl.”

  “Get off me, you ogre-ass tramp,” I snarled, working my legs up between us. He lifted his body a smidgen, staring down at my knees that were rising between his.

  When they were high enough, his eyes lifted with confusion as the smile slid across my lips. I parted his legs, using my leg muscles and gravity to unseat him, sending his body slamming down against the cobblestone street. I rolled away, grabbing my blade as he did the same.

  “Do you want to die here?” he snapped.

  “Better to die in battle than beneath some dark prick who was weak enough to sell his soul to the demons walking within the darkness,” I hissed, bending down to retrieve the other blade while keeping him in front of me.

  He watched me with a wicked look burning in his eyes. My cloak had fallen off, sliding from my shoulders to reveal the leather pants that curved around my muscular legs. The top I wore covered my chest, wrapping around my breasts, crisscrossing over my shoulders to wrap around my waist. It was lightweight and made to protect vital organs while not weighing me down.

  The warrior didn’t move or strike out again, choosing to watch me instead. I frowned, going into a defensive pose while the sound of swords within the cottage went silent. My attention flicked toward it, and a line of worry creased my forehead. I started forward, and he bowed his head, cold wintery eyes watching me step toward him.

  Before I’d reached him, he vanished, and I paused, peering around the empty street. Swallowing past the nervousness, I moved toward the silent house. Steel sang through the air, and I barely brought mine up in time to deflect a punishing blow. He was fast, and the spicy masculine scent he radiated was playing hell on the woman within me. I paused and took note, even though he was trying to kill me. Why was my magic not shielding me from his scent and masculinity? I should have been immune to the lure of men.

  “You’re out-skilled, little girl,” he growled, his voice low, raspy, and surprisingly sexy.

  Had he just told me I was out-skilled? I laughed, swinging my twin blades hard and fast until sparks filled the street. I swayed toward him, moving in quick precision, fighting to disarm him. The warrior perceived every move, easily deflecting every blow with his much larger weapon and strength.

  “You’re tiring,” he growled.

  I swung both blades, scissoring his before twisting my body in the air to use my full weight to take the sword by force. I landed, swinging my leg low, which took his legs out from beneath him before lifting my blades into the air. I intended to pierce them through his shoulders, but Amo’s groan sounded, and my eyes rose to see a sword held against her throat.

  “Enough,” the male demanded, thrusting his leg out to send my body to the ground, hard.

  I gasped for air, sitting up only for him to slam down against me, holding me to the ground as frost-colored eyes searched mine. He was ruggedly handsome, with clean teeth that caused my eyes to lower to his full, luscious mouth. Silently, we took each other in until he pushed his elbow against my throat and grabbed the rainbow-colored tendrils of my hair, bringing it up against his nose. Was he fucking sniffing me? Creep.

  “I’m going to stand up, and you’re going to stand with me. If you fight, your team dies. Do you understand me?” His eyes held mine prisoner in their chilly depths. When my only reply was to nod, he chuckled coldly, “I want words, Little Bird.”

  “I understand but know this; if you hurt my team, I will slaughter you and your men, and I’ll wear your fucking face with pride, asshole. Now, get your ogre-ass off of me.”

  He didn’t release me, choosing to glare down at me until I became highly aware that he was aroused from fighting me. This man wasn’t just good-looking; he was gorgeously dark and delicious in all the right ways. High, sharp cheekbones were visible, with a five o’clock shadow that adorned his strong jawline. His body was covered in thick muscles, and one pressed hard against my stomach.

  Gradually, he backed up, still staring down at me with curiosity burning in his eyes. He grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet with a quick jerk. Men moved in around us, collecting my weapons while he towered over me.

  “You’re now the prisoner of the Night King,” he announced.

  My blood turned to ice in my veins. Lowering my attention to the armor he wore, I noted the colors of midnight-blue and black that covered it. On his chest, clasping the cloak onto his back, were silver chains and a coat of arms with dual swords and the moon set between them, pierced by both blades.

  Slowly, my eyes drifted back up to lock on his with loathing. Their kingdom was filled with people rumored to have made deals with demons to be immune to the plague of darkness that slowly reached for more land each day. They also raided our lands, stealing food and women from the villages to fill their bellies and warm their beds.

  “What the hell would your king want from us?” I asked coldly, tightening my hands into fists at my side.

 
“That’s between you and him. I’m just here to bring you to the Kingdom of Night.”

  “No,” I stated, folding my arms over my chest, digging in my heels. “You’re not taking me to your king, asshole.”

  “Oh, but I am. Either gagged, bound, unwillingly or willingly, you’re coming with me, Alexandria of the Moon Clan,” he warned.

  Chapter Two

  Glaring at the obstinate male, I studied how he issued orders to his men, fully in control. The house they’d hid in wait for us was emptied and cleared out on the main floor. His men escorted me inside while Amo and the girls watched, clucking their tongues. The meaning made a smile spread on my lips, and I nodded softly, which didn’t go unnoticed by the asshole who demanded I march forward.

  Inside was clean, and while destroyed from the sword fight that had gone down, I didn’t smell the decay of rotten food or dead inhabitants. We moved up a staircase before he paused in front of a door and grunted to get my attention, holding his arm out toward the entrance. Narrowing my eyes on him, I slid my gaze to the soft glow within the room.

  Scowling, I made a mental note that he held some magic if he’d lit the candles without having to achieve it manually. I stepped into the room, and my spine stiffened. On the bed were the hallowed husks of what looked like a family. Hot breath fanned my shoulder, and I moved forward cautiously, continuing to stare at the victims.

  “Bloody hell,” he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair, discovering what held my attention. He moved toward the bed, grabbing a blanket which he folded around them. He placed the family’s remains outside the door before reentering with a dark look burning in his stare. “Sit down.”

  “No,” I argued, even though I was exhausted and my body ached everywhere. I didn’t take orders; I gave them.

  He turned, lifting a dark brow, causing his eyes to sparkle with a silent threat. The warrior groaned, moving toward me slowly. He picked me up over his shoulder and discarded me in a large, winged back chair that sat before a cold, empty mantel. His lips moved as he sat in the seat opposite of me, and a fire magically started within the fireplace, crackling to life.