by H. D. Gordon
Moon Born
The Wolf Wars Series: Book 3
H. D. Gordon
Copyright © 2018 H. D. Gordon
Published by H. D. Gordon Books
Cover by Christian Bentulan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
The End… For Now
About the Author
Sneak Peek
Moon of Fire
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Moon of Fire: Available now
Also by H. D. Gordon
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1
“Cutting off the head of this snake will not kill it,” she told me. “You should understand that going in.”
I adjusted my legs, which were folded beneath me. “Why not?” I asked. “If you cut a snake’s head off, it dies. Why will that not work here?”
The lines around her mouth deepened as she smiled, but there was only sadness behind it. “Because with this snake, if you cut off the head, three more will grow back in its place.”
Though her voice was gentle, motherly, even, the words caused a chill to crawl up my spine. I held the old crone’s violet gaze, trying not to let the sound of hope slipping through my fingers be reflected in my tone. “So it can’t be done, then?” I asked. “The snake cannot be killed?”
The old Sorceress clucked her tongue. “That is not what I said, moonchild,” she told me. “What I mean is, the kind of victory you seek cannot be had in a single battle, or with the severing of a few throats.” She took a breath, and in the tiny space of silence, the incense burned around us, filling the tent with scents as exotic as this land I’d somehow found myself in.
After a moment, she continued on in her strange lilt. Her voice was lower now, and she leaned forward, the various items adorning her swaying as she did so, as if she were about to share a great secret.
“This is a war that never ends, moonchild. The only thing its warriors can hope for is to push the needle forward, to leave the world a little better than how they found it… And it is the most thankless of jobs.”
“I’m not after praise,” I replied, raising my chin a little. Despite her being ancient and appearing rather frail, her gaze was as difficult to maintain as any alpha Wolf I’d ever encountered.
Another cluck of her old tongue. “Do not be naïve, moonchild.”
I didn’t know what to say to this, so I said nothing at all.
The crone continued on, knowing that I was missing whatever point she was trying to make. “That is not what I mean when I say it is thankless work. It’s not just that people will not appreciate you. They will persecute you. They will blame you. They will make up lies as nasty as infected wounds, and over time, those lies will become an entire story that large portions of the population believe. They will turn the heroes into villains in their histories, because that is what they do, that is just one of the ways they control the minds of the common people.”
I remained silent as I absorbed this, but came to the conclusion rather quickly that I was nobody’s hero, and never had been, so none of what she said should matter.
When I would look back upon this moment over the coming days, I would slowly come to the realization that she had not been wrong when she’d called me naïve.
I stood to go, my legs aching a little at having been folded underneath me for so long. “Thank you,” I said, and turned to leave.
The crone called out from behind me. “What will you do, moonchild?” she asked.
Pausing, I drew a slow breath of incense-scented air, and looked back over my shoulder at the old Sorceress.
“I’m going to cut the head off the snake, and if three more grow in its place, I will cut those off, too. I will keep cutting and cutting, and at some point, the heads might think twice before growing back.”
I took my leave then, and though I did not look back again, I had a feeling that the old crone was grinning widely behind me.
The place looked exactly as it had when I’d left it all those moon cycles ago. The open land and rolling fields of lavender wheat. The winding dirt roads and ever-present smell of animal feces.
Dogshead.
I had not missed the place.
It was strange to think back on the girl I had been when I’d been trapped here, strange to think of all that had happened in between my absence and return. A bit of that old fear tried to root within me, but I clamped down on the emotion and focused on the task at hand.
I was no longer a slave, I reminded myself. There was no collar around my neck, and the brand on my shoulder had been colored over. There was no fight awaiting me in The Ring tonight, no Hounds’ whip to shred the skin on my back.
I was free.
But others were not, which was why I was here.
I crouched lower into the stalks of lavender wheat in which I was hiding, my ears swiveling on my head, making sure that there were no unexpected arrivals. A breeze rolled over the land, swaying the wheat, which brushed at my fur in a pleasant manner, bringing with it the scent of multiple Wolves approaching. My sensitive ears picked up the slow trundle of wheels over the dirt road, and shortly after, the unmistakable sound of a cracking whip.
A growl started low in my belly and tried to claw its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back with some effort.
“Easy, now,” said a soothing voice in my head. “Wait for it, my love.”
I drew a slow breath and clung to my friend’s words, knowing that she was right, as she usually was. Goldie had been on several of these excursions when I’d been away from her all those months, and she knew what she was doing.
Still, my heartbeat picked up in pace as I crept forward a little further, the soft pads of my paws silent on the fertile earth. I only had to wait a few more seconds before the wagon appeared on the path ahead. The sound of a cracking whip rang out again just as the Wolf wielding it also came into view.
Again, I had to stifle a growl.
“Just a little longer,” Goldie promised.
I could not see my frien
d, but I knew she was hiding in the stalks on the other side of the road, crouched in the same manner as I was. Night had just fallen, and the stars were beginning to blink to life overhead, along with a quarter moon that looked down indifferently.
Somewhere nearby, Yarik was also hiding, waiting for his moment to appear. The Halfbreed had done this dozens of times, and a handful more with Goldie at his side. I knew that their plans were well-oiled machines… And, yet…
Something did not feel right.
Just as this thought flitted across my mind, the wagon came trundling past, which was my cue to make my grand appearance. I was trying to decide weather to voice my concern when Goldie’s voice rang out again in my head.
“Go now, Rook,” she said.
And then the powerful muscles in my legs were pumping, propelling my body forward, out of the lavender stalks and into the path of the wagon.
The wagon—filled with yet-to-be-collared pups slated for slavery as Dogs, bait, or working ladies.
It was this thought that made my strong jaws stretch wide, aimed at the throat of the Wolf with the whip, driving that wagon forward.
But just before I reached him, the Wolf threw off the cloak that was draping his shoulders, and I saw the baton at his hip, and the unmistakable uniform that marked him as one of Bo Benedict’s Hounds.
A trap.
This whole thing had been a trap.
Somehow, they’d known we were coming, had been expecting us.
But like a wheel set in motion, there was no stopping it now.
The Hound whipped out his baton and struck me as I sailed at him, knocking me hard upside the head in midair, making stars burst behind my eyes as my vision went out of focus. Vaguely, I heard Goldie’s voice screaming out in my head, my friend’s concern for me palpable even in the chaos. Then I was falling and striking the hard ground, the air in my lungs knocked clean out of me.
I blinked, scrambling to get my paws beneath me. In the time that it took my vision to clear, I saw the Hound approaching. In that moment, a fear so strong stole over me that my body locked up entirely. Defending myself, or even moving for that matter, didn’t even enter my mind.
When I looked up and saw the Hound, with his whip and wicked grin, I saw every Hound I’d ever known in my lifetime, every beating, every fight in The Ring.
And I couldn’t move.
“Not so clever as we thought, little bitch,” the Hound snarled. I did not recognize him, but he clearly recognized me. “They said you might be coming, and I hoped you would.”
He was in his mortal form, and I in that of my Wolf, but Gods help me, I was frozen like the barren lands of the Northern Territory.
The Hound raised a heavy-soled boot over my head, and all I could do was watch.
A flash of red-gold fur appeared from my peripheral. Goldie, with jaws stretched wide and hate in her glowing golden eyes, sailed out of the high lavender stalks and clamped her teeth around the Hound’s neck.
Warm blood sprayed into the air, catching in droplets on my dark fur as Goldie took the Hound down, his strength in mortal form no match for her deadly fangs.
There was only time for Goldie to flash me a concerned look before the back of the wagon opened, and rather than un-collared pups, six more Hounds jumped out.
This, by the mercy of the Gods, snapped me out of my stupor. I found my paws and took up a spot beside Goldie. Blood that appeared black under the moonlight covered her muzzle, and my friend let out a growl that made the fur on the back of my neck stand on end.
“We can take them,” Goldie’s voice said in my head, but I could barely hear it over the thundering of my heart.
When three more Hounds in Wolf form stalked out of shadows, joining their five brethren in mortal form, the fear threatened to paralyze me again. I recalled Adriel’s words to me before we’d left.
“It’s okay to be afraid, Rukiya,” he’d said. “I am often afraid.”
My jaws clenched at this, and I tried hard to suppress the feeling, but there it was, nonetheless. I could feel the shift in Goldie as we took in the extra Hounds, as we stood off with them, eight to one.
The Hounds began to close in.
I glanced around, looking for a way out, my panic rising in me. I would not allow them to take me alive; I could not go back to the life that I’d known, not after living in Mina, after knowing how good life could actually be.
Years spent fighting for my life in The Ring finally kicked in, and survival mode appeared alongside it. I prepared myself to fight, though I understood that the effort would be futile. Eight against two were not odds we could overcome.
“Let’s kill them all,” said Goldie’s voice in my head, though I knew she understood the likelihood of outcomes as well.
The Hounds in their mortal forms unfurled the whips that hung at their sides, the black coils like snakes under the moonlight.
“No,” I said, though I couldn’t be sure if I’d spoken it in my own mind, or into Goldie’s as well. What I was sure of was that I hardly recognized the voice as my own. It was so small, so weak.
Just before the Hounds reached us, something large and heavy struck the earth behind our backs. Through the haze of dismay and fear, it took me a second longer than it should have for me to realize that it was only Yarik.
The Halfbreed landed with enough force that the ground shook beneath my paws. The enormous warrior male spat at the Hound in front of us, wrapped his arms around Goldie and me, and as if we were no larger than pups, shot up into the night sky.
As the ground receded rapidly beneath my paws, and the Hounds became tiny dots in the distance, their angry howls filling the night sky, I was finally able to breathe again.
2
We made it back to Mina, passing through a rift in the realms to reach it, taking pains to make sure our travel was not followed.
When we set down in the beloved city, Goldie and I shifted back into our mortal forms, the ink in our magical tattoos making our clothing appear automatically.
Yarik had landed amongst the trees just outside Mina, and the large male took one look at Goldie and me, and then made himself scarce in a hurry.
I scowled at his back, and began stalking off in the direction of my bed.
“What the hell happened back there?” Goldie said, her harsh tone stopping me in my tracks.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Clearly, it was a trap. There were no pups in that wagon. The bastards knew we were coming.”
Goldie shook her head. “That is not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
It was an effort not to roll my eyes. Instead, I continued my trek into Mina, which was quiet, the many residents still abed for the fact that it was the middle of the night.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said between tight teeth.
Goldie kept pace alongside me, and though I didn’t look over at her, I could feel her green gaze burning into me. “You froze,” she said.
I let out a huff of air and continued on. “I did not,” I replied. “I stood my ground, same as you.”
“No,” Goldie said. “You froze. I was right there watching, so there’s no point in lying about it. When the Hound threw off the cloak and revealed himself, you froze. If I hadn’t jumped in when I did, he would have killed you.”
My jaw tightened. “Well, thank you, then. You’re my hero. You saved me.”
Goldie scoffed, and I knew my friend well enough to know that she was getting angry.
That made two of us.
“I don’t want your Gods damned thanks, I want to know why,” she snapped.
We passed by the canal that bisected Mina, the water dark under the moonlight. With the arched roofs and dark windows, the carefully crafted structures stood by as witness. Knowing that she would not let it go until I provided an answer, I said, “I was surprised. That’s all. It was an ambush, and I was caught off guard. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it
won’t,” Goldie said, “because you aren’t going on another mission with Yarik and I until you face whatever it is you’re running from.”
This stopped me in my tracks, and had it been anyone else I was talking with, I might have lashed out physically in my anger.
“You don’t get to make that choice,” I said.
Goldie snorted, folding her arms over her chest. She looked so different than the woman I’d known before I’d left Dogshead. Instead of a slip dress and the heavy makeup that the working ladies wore, she wore black leather that was worn and thick, crafted for a warrior and very similar to the outfits Yarik and Yarin always wore. Weapons were strapped to her, around her legs, over her shoulders, tucked into the folds of her jacket. She wore no makeup, though her face was still as lovely as ever, and she had filled out considerably in the past year, packing on muscle that only added to her beauty.
But she was not the only one who had changed, and I was in no mood to discuss any of this right now.
“Actually,” Goldie said, “I do get to decide, because these are Yarik’s missions, and Yarik does what I tell him, so if I tell him you are unfit to accompany us, then he will believe what I say.”
Now my teeth were clamped together tight enough to ache. “Fuck off,” I snapped. “I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. I told you, I’m fine. Nothing happened. You want to convince your boyfriend that I shouldn’t come with you—fine. Do what you gotta do. I don’t need you acting like you’re my mother. I’m fully capable of doing this on my own.”