Alpha Moon (Silver Moon, #0.5)

by Rebecca A. Rogers

Still in the competitive spirit, Ulric left Alaric at Murdock’s while he stepped outside, fully intending to allow the harsh wind to rouse his mind. His feet no more landed in the slushy muck than he collided with Daciana. She let out a high-pitched screech, and Ulric caught her before she fell.

  “Apologies, milady. I am afraid my head is not quite where it should be at the moment,” Ulric said.

  “’Tis all right,” she responded. “But in the future, I suggest keeping thy eyes open and attentive.”

  Unsure of what came over him, Ulric pushed Daciana backward. She landed in a puddle of freezing mud, squealing all the while. Ulric could do naught but laugh.

  “I am so glad this amuses thee,” she said.

  Mayhap ’twas because she pretended to be a much higher class of human than the rest of the community, or mayhap Ulric was feeling alive from the ale, but either way, he could not contain his noisy laughter.

  Catching his breath, he leaned forward and singsonged, “Get used to it, milady, for we are naught but peasants who can hardly pay taxes and feed our families. What else would ye expect from farmers who swim in sludge all day? I daresay we must be an entirely different breed of people altogether, only pigeonholed as commoners by the likes of rich aristocrats from, say, London. Is this not what ye expected?”

  Daciana spat at him. “How dare thou ruin my reputation and embarrass me in front of half the town! Thou did this on purpose!” Her cheeks flushed a deep pink—the same shade as her lips—and, for a moment, all Ulric could think about was kissing them. Daciana’s eyes grew wider the longer Ulric stared, and his blatantly obvious attempt to hide his discretion was spoiled by the crowd now gathered around them. His personage as a gentleman would, perhaps, take a thrashing.

  Dutifully, he shook off his childish demeanor and extended a hand to Daciana. Though reluctant at first, she eventually had no choice but to accept. He jerked her so hard she slammed against his chest, releasing a barely-audible squeak of surprise. Holding her in that position for a moment longer, Ulric finally thought it best to release her, before they could cause an even bigger scene than the one which just played out before prying eyes.

  “I shall walk ye home,” Ulric said, even though Daciana was fighting her way out of his grip. He reined her in, practically dragging her down the street for all those watching to observe.

  “I detest thee,” she said through gritted teeth once they were out of sight of the locals. “How can thou be so cruel?” Fresh tears sprang from her eyes and fell down her cheeks.

  Momentarily, Ulric felt bad for the pain he caused her, but that instant was short-lived as he had begun to consider what a bloody brat she was. “And I feel no remorse, my dear. Somebody needed to put ye in thy rightful place. ’Twas thy luck I am in good spirits today.”

  “Ugh! Thou art the most hopeless, loathsome, and dishonorable man I have ever laid eyes upon. I hope there is a certain level of Hell for thee.” She meant to kick off in a sprint, but instead, she tripped on the hem of her dress and fell face-first onto the mucky lane. Embarrassed yet again, Daciana did not move. She screamed and kicked and beat the ground with her fists, while hot tears poured from her eyes.

  Ulric did pity her this time. “Come, let me help ye up.”

  “Do not touch me, vile creature! I never want to see thee again.” She carefully lifted herself and brushed off her skirt.

  Ulric bit his lip in frustration. He had only meant to show how selfish she sounded, not wound her pride. So he stepped forward, which, in turn, forced Daciana to take a step backward.

  “I mean no harm to ye,” he said. “I promised to take ye home, and I shall hold true to my word.”

  The hurt in Daciana’s eyes was contagious; Ulric felt the stab of pain through his heart and stomach, just as he imagined she did. Explaining this feeling would be pointless, for she already knew. Explaining why he treated her so would also be a lost cause, for his reason would fall on deaf ears. Daciana would hate him now; that much was certain.

  Past Daciana’s shoulder, Ulric saw movement. His legs solidified.

  Nay, it cannot be, he thought.

  “Daciana, my dear, when I tell ye to run, pick up thy skirts and move as the wind,” Ulric articulated slowly. “Do not look back. Do not stop. And do not make me seem as much of a fool after the townsmen find my body.”

  Fearful, Daciana stood in place, unsure of what Ulric spoke. All she knew was he made no sense, and his facial features warped into pure panic. There was a sinister feeling slithering its way across the nape of her neck, where all the tiny hairs stood on end. She had experienced that extra sense once before: the night she saw the wolf.

  “’Tis here, is it not?” she asked, ensnaring Ulric’s frightened eyes. “The wolf, I mean.”

  Ulric’s eyebrows knotted in confusion. “Ye have seen it?”

  “Aye,” she breathed out quickly. “On my way here.”

  Without second-guessing himself, Ulric clasped Daciana’s hand inside his own and bolted for her residence.

  “Pick up thy skirts!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Do not stop, Daciana!” Sneaking a glance in the wolf’s direction, he noticed ’twas catching up. The faster they ran, the closer the wolf became, until ’twas finally upon them, nearly nipping and clawing at their heels. Fleetingly, Ulric pondered how they would be rid of the situation, but he could find no outlet. They were doomed from the start.

  Daciana screeched as she tripped again, but Ulric never loosened his grasp on her hand. His lungs ached, and his sides burned as if they were aflame. The Lowell’s new homestead was not far in front of them, and if they could last just a few minutes more, they could safely barge through the entrance.

  “Come, Daciana, ’tis ahead,” Ulric shouted. He felt the pull of Daciana’s arm as she slackened her pace, and he tried all the more to tug her along to safety.

  They flew up the front steps, barreled through the entryway, and slammed the door behind them. A loud thump reverberated on the other side. Ulric and Daciana wedged a long block of lumber in the wooden hook across the door to prevent the creature from gaining access. They stiffened when the bangs and thuds halted. The wolf howled, and its sickening cry chilled them to the bone.

  Heavily breathing, Ulric let his head fall back. He returned it to a normal position several seconds later and asked, “How did ye know?”

  Daciana, equally out of breath as him, stole a moment longer to regain her composure. She clutched her stomach and backed herself against the wall, gracefully sliding down until she was seated. “I-I could feel it. Mayhap it followed me here. I do not know for certain, but I think it wants something from me.”

  “And here I believed ’twas only after me.” Ulric paced a two-foot span. “What could it possibly want from us?”

  Fatigued, Daciana unhurriedly glanced up at him. “I know not, and I do not wish to find out.”

  “I must go,” said Ulric. “I have to warn my brother.”

  “No, please!” Daciana reached out to him. “Do not leave me here alone, not with that monster on the loose.”

  Ulric fought an inner battle. The correct thing to do would be to warn the townsfolk the wolf was at large and could attack anybody in passing, but once glimpse of Daciana’s frightened face, the tears pooling in her eyes, and Ulric’s gut convinced him to stay.

  “All right, then,” he said. “I shall stay until dusk, to ensure ye are safe.”

  “Gratitude,” said Daciana, as she closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

  Ulric sat down beside her, hooking one arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. Ten minutes ago, she practically banished him to Hell for all eternity. Now they sat in silence, listening to each other’s breaths become fainter and fainter.

  Chapter Eight