Shadow Moon

by Gaja J. Kos

  I asked as much, and earned an exasperated look from Jürgen, although I was fairly certain I wasn’t its cause.

  “There are some who believe we’re going Orwellian on them.” He growled, and I could almost taste the annoyance riding the sound. “Gods, you’d think the HSC wants to chip them like dogs or something by the theories they’re putting out there. End of freedom as we know it. Preparation for a genocide. The shit goes on and on.”

  Jens grunted in agreement. “Luckily there aren’t that many who oppose. The majority, at least, appear not to have their heads up their asses.”

  I laughed. “That’s refreshing to hear.”

  Jürgen flashed me a lazy smile, lifting his Paulaner up as if he were about to make a toast. “Speaking of refreshments…” He pointed the can at me. “You, darling sister, are to attend a party tomorrow. The Freundenberger residence. Eight o’clock sharp. And make sure to bring Alec.”

  After too little sleep, an entire day of training, and no word from Isa on Rihard’s condition or the names I had given her, I wasn’t exactly in a mood to party. Especially since I knew what waited for me the following day.

  The opening ceremony.

  But despite my cringing at all the interviews I had lined up, despite the thoughts of Rihard resurfacing again and again, when I walked back into my old home, I found myself smiling.

  As usual, the house was bristling with life, my parents and six siblings all there, as well as Alec, who had beaten me to the residence by fifteen minutes while I was still brooding in the locker room. The smell of beer and meat permeated the air, hearty laughter bouncing off the walls.

  The instant they spotted me, I was all but drowned in a sea of hugs and congratulations. I could barely exchange a single word with someone when another was already spinning me away, this battle for my attention lasting a good few minutes. But during it all, my gaze locked on Alec’s.

  We both knew what tomorrow truly meant, but the look he gave me was…

  It was happy.

  As if this truly was just one of many Freundenberger gatherings, filled with copious amounts of food, laughs, and possibly a few fights. The good kind.

  I felt the last of the tension slip from my shoulders.

  Pablo, the only one of my siblings who was actually younger than me, rushed into my arms the second the crowd cleared a bit. He was just about to hit his teens and was growing taller at a spectacular pace, but that didn’t stop him from smothering me like the little hellion he was at heart. A fact I was fairly certain nothing could ever change.

  “How are you doing, kid?” I ruffled his dark hair once he grudgingly allowed me to lower him those few inches until his feet touched the ground.

  “I won every fight this month.” He beamed. “They’re going to put me in an older group.”

  I snorted. Of course he did. And of course they would.

  Pablo had practically shadowed the twins whenever they were in the house. He’d learned a thousand tricks long before he started the more official portion of his werewolf training, and only became more outstanding with each passing year.

  He was exceptionally attuned to his senses, freely accessing even those parts the rest of us struggled to. And while he wasn’t a Black were like Jens, Jürgen, and Greta, he wasn’t exactly like us regular wolves, either.

  Maybe the difference lay in the combination of the Southern American environment he had been born in, coupled with the Freundenberger vibe he’d been exposed to since our parents adopted him as a cub. As far as I knew, no one had been able to figure it out.

  But the fact remained that while Pablo was unable to partially shift, he was just as strong as any Black werewolf, although with the benefit of the full range of instincts and an animalistic mind only regular weres were able to tap into. In his case, however, even all of that was much, much more pronounced.

  Only more so after the War, when the magic once more flowed freely through our world and reshaped the threads of our reality.

  Often, I wondered where these changes would lead, where his path would still take him. But so far, Pablo seemed to be handling everything fate threw his way with a grin on his face—and utter determination to come out on top.

  Brilliant, that’s what he was.

  “We’re still on that you’ll come play with me for the sports portion of your training, right?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Pablo grinned in that endearing way that made it clear he had something else in store for me. “But the head wolf said we should also let our coaches take us hunting.”

  “Suuure.” I chuckled. “I assume all those training with humans will manage to convince them to run around the woods.”

  He shrugged and boyishly jutted out his chin. “It’s their fault if they can’t choose their role models well.”

  Damn it, I didn’t want to, but I grinned. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  Pablo only smiled at me and darted off. Undoubtedly to seek out one of the twins and beg them for a fight.

  I shook my head. It really was good to be home.

  I mingled around the room for a while, chatting up my older brothers, Hans and Ludvig, who I really hadn’t seen enough of over these past few months given our busy lives, then went over to help Mom and Dad prep the food in the kitchen. Greta shot me a discreet look when I walked past her and gave my hand a light squeeze before leaving the three of us alone.

  Although my parents would never show it, never place such a burden on their kids, we all knew that letting us go had been difficult. Me especially, as Greta explained to me years ago, when my visits became sparser. Her unexpected intervention had surprised me, but once the message sank in, I couldn’t deny that she was more than likely right.

  While I had still been staying at home, Mom and Dad at least had the chance to see me every time I wasn’t flying off to a new venue, but once I moved into my own place… Things had changed.

  Of course, it really didn’t help that there was a nine year age difference between the twins and me, which was just enough time to get a little rusty when it came to this whole “setting your kids free” thing.

  But Paul and Liesl were champs, and I loved them for never making me feel as if I couldn’t choose my own way in life—as if I owed them something.

  No, the gratitude I felt towards them was entirely my own.

  “Need a hand?” I asked my mom when I slid up next to her by the counter.

  The light brightening her eyes was answer enough. To all of it.

  After about an hour of stuffing our faces and passing around enough beer to make a well-established Biergarten look like an amateur at play, Alec and I wandered off to get some privacy at the far end of the yard. He took my hand in his as he led me away from the keen werewolf ears out on the patio, although with all the talking that was going on, I had a hard time believing anybody would pay particular attention to us slinking off into the dark.

  The instant we were out of sight, Alec’s lips were on mine, the kisses soft, loving, and filled with the same joy I’d felt while we had still been sitting behind the table and drinking in the normalcy of a typical Freundenberger night. I pulled him closer, burying myself in the heat of his body as his hands roamed down my back all the way to my ass.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow?” he whispered into my lips, then quickly snagged them into another kiss before I could answer.

  I molded my body to his form, unable to break away from his taste until his low chuckle spread across my tongue.

  “Your ass is vibrating, Lotte.”

  “Hmm?”

  He glanced down at me with a smile touching his eyes. It was only then that I realized my phone was vibrating in my back pocket.

  I pulled it out, and my heart hammered viciously when I saw that it was Isa’s name flashing across the screen. My knees weakened, but I slid my finger sideways, opening the message.

  Alec didn’t say anything as I read the text three times in a row. Only his anticipation swirled through the night
air, silent and waiting. Once I was finally able to tear my gaze away from the screen, I threw my hands around his neck and just let my laughter loose for long, long moments, right along with my tears.

  “What is it?” he asked when our gazes locked at last.

  “Rihard.” I half sniffed, half smiled. “He just woke up.”

  12

  It was oddly comforting, being surrounded by old faces and the constant chatter that just refused to die down. The late morning and early afternoon portion of the official opening of the Munich Games had been as dreadful as always with the dozens of interviews and statements Alec and I had to give out. But the reporters were practically beaming to see us again, and in the end, I left the media rooms with a tired smile on my face and Alec’s fingers entwined with mine.

  Now, however, when the afternoon light was gradually dying down and the evening approached at last, the large hall separating the business part of the compound from the residential area was drenched in an entirely different atmosphere. Excitement buzzed through the air as if it were a living, breathing thing, occasionally accompanied by the sharp scent of nerves oozing from the first-timers.

  Not that I could blame them. Even my heart was pounding faster, that inexplicable exhilaration of knowing that you were part of something grand, something larger, zinging through my flesh.

  A sensation I wasn’t alone in experiencing.

  We all counted down the minutes right along with the massive digital clock perched up high on the wall. But while we kept to our respective areas in the hall, bunched together based on our clubs, the divide was merely a formality. At this ceremony, it didn’t matter where your allegiance—or rather, contract—lay. Nobody even gave a fuck about your grievances or petty grudges.

  Just the fact that we were here created a bond. One that surpassed everything, however temporary.

  The single thing that caused my smile to falter was the knowledge of why Alec and I were alone in our little spot, aside from the standard support team. Why our four players’ slots had been cut down to two. Yet at the same time, the thought also made me stronger—determined to gloriously whip the asses of our opponents and dig up the bastard or bastards behind Nill from whichever hole they were currently burrowed in.

  I glanced up at Alec just as a bell rang out. “Showtime.”

  Every player, coach, physician—every damned person in the hall rolled out through the large double-winged doors. I breathed in the familiar scent of Olympiapark as the last shafts of sunlight hit me, and felt Alec’s fingers tightened around mine. We were really doing this.

  One last tournament. One last stand.

  I thought I’d already said goodbye the previous year, but this was different.

  Thick, inky emotion crawled up my throat. I hadn’t ended my career at the Games, opting for a smaller tournament instead since I didn’t want my retirement to take away anyone else’s spotlight. But the Games… They would have been my venue of choice.

  They were where it all began for supe sports, and I couldn’t help thinking that, in a way, they were my beginning, too.

  After I became a coach, I’d thought the next time I would get to experience all of this would be standing by one of my protégés. A silent, supportive presence, shadowing the true star.

  But Alec and I were here. Right in the core of the crowd, wearing the colors that not only signified our club, but our status as competitors.

  I squeezed his hand, but didn’t dare look at him as we stepped beyond the compound grounds.

  In silence, we made our final walk as pros through the greens, then across the bridge, and straight into the cheering heart of the Olympiastadion.

  I blinked away my tears as the roar of the crowd exploded in my ears.

  Craning my neck, I trailed my gaze across the pulsing ocean of people who had come to cheer on the players, and breathed deeply, taking in everything as if it were the first time.

  “For you, Christian,” I whispered. “This one is for you.”

  With a day left to recover before the matches began, coupled with our fast metabolism, the after party was always wild. And it seemed Rosalie was adamant to make the best of it.

  She exchanged her tracksuit for a killer burgundy dress that showed off her tanned shoulders and toned body, her legs accentuated by the high heels Elsa would probably pry off her feet in an instant, given the chance.

  I’d seen Rosalie flirting around, turning a shitload of heads, but I had to admit I was glad when she sought me out.

  Alec had slunk off somewhere with a gorgeous brunette I recognized as one of the physicians, and although I spent a fair few minutes chatting with Kiefer, the rest of my time was devoted wholly to scanning the room.

  Rosalie’s presence was a pleasant reprieve.

  Plus, it made me feel a lot less like an awkward stalker.

  “I saw that hunk of yours earlier,” she purred as she helped herself to another glass of champagne.

  If I didn’t have my own, far less carefree, agenda for being here, I would have probably snatched a glass right along with her. As it was, I didn’t want to risk even the smallest detail slipping past me.

  I doubted anybody would be foolish enough to flash drugs in such a crowd, even if inebriated, but people have been known to do unexpected things before. I wasn’t taking any risks.

  “Which hunk?” I asked, hoping Rosalie didn’t take notice of my slightly too long pause as I scanned a tightly knit group behind her. “I know I’m playing with one, but—”

  “Linus.” Her lips pulled into a devious grin.

  “Oh.”

  It was a name I’d stumbled over while doing the registrations. A name I didn’t want to run into in person.

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I knew there was more to the story! Come on, Freundenberger, what aren’t you telling me?”

  I grimaced, seriously contemplating taking that second glass of champagne just to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth.

  “Bad breakup?” Rosalie offered, one eyebrow arched.

  “No, no…” I snorted, a laugh spilling from my lips on its tail. “The breakup was the good part, trust me. It was the half-assed attempt at a relationship that sucked.”

  Rosalie cocked her eyebrow even higher and motioned me to continue. I sucked in a long, long breath. Should have known she would wrench the tale out of me eventually. Might as well get it over with now.

  “Linus was—he was pure fire. And yes, I did fall in love with him. Enough to actually try for a relationship.” I licked my lips, hating that these pockets of my past still bothered me after all this time. “At first, we weren’t that bad together, with our different schedules and all that. Gods, he even understood that while I was still playing with Alec, there was nothing more going on between us. Not after Linus and I started dating, anyway.”

  “Sounds like a great guy…” The skepticism in her voice was thick enough to spread over a slice of bread.

  I allowed myself a small smile. “Oh, he was. Right up until the point he wanted me to get off the pill.”

  Rosalie choked on her champagne. “He—what?”

  “Yep. He wanted me to have kids. To give up my career for something I never wanted in my life.”

  “Shit, Lotte. That conversation couldn’t have been nice.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t horrible. Not a great fight, or anything of the sort you’d expect. Just—well, a few heated words. And the next day, Linus took me out to dinner and wanted to start again. We continued seeing each other for a few more weeks, but it became clear what we had wasn’t what either of us sought. So we parted our ways. And when he, well—”

  “Became the horniest, most fucked were in the game?” Rosalie offered sweetly, then motioned to the hostess for more champagne.

  “Yes, that.” I grimaced. “When he became that, I just did my best to steer clear of him. Either I was the one who shoved him down this particular path, or he was a bastard for demanding of me what he nev
er did of any of his other casual lays.”

  “A bastard, indeed.” Rosalie tipped her latest glass. “But what’s stopping you from taking all that lovely, tanned muscle into your bed now? He’s clearly forgone the idea of being a family man.”

  Gods damn her.

  I burst out laughing, tears blurring the corners of my eyes. Rosalie really was incorrigible.

  Our gazes locked, and the next moment, we were chortling again. It wasn’t until my abs started to hurt that we stopped.

  Rosalie swayed a little, then caught herself on the wall, champagne splashing onto the floor.

  “You now, I think I had a little too much bubbly for one night.”

  She stepped forward and pressed a quick kiss on my cheek, the laughter still in her eyes, although her face was slightly tense, as if there actually was a grain of truth lurking beneath her words.

  It took a lot to get a were drunk, but it was possible.

  Tested that theory out myself on a few occasions.

  “I think I’ll step out for a little fresh air before I head in for the night. But you”—her eyes glistened—“should have fun.”

  She was gone before I could ask her if she wanted me to escort her, and when I spun around to face the room, I knew why. A pair of magnetic blue eyes that stirred way too many memories were fixed on my face.

  Memories.

  And lust.

  My shirt was off before we even hit the door to his room.

  Thank the gods there were no security cameras monitoring the hallway with their mechanical eyes. Although, given the tangle of limbs we currently were, our bodies blurred as we moved in a haste to get the fuck inside the room, I almost doubted there would be anything juicy to see.