Page 7 of Crescent Warrior

It felt so strange that he shuddered, a rush of cold washing over him. He wasn’t used to anything barring him from Hippolyta. He resented the door for keeping them apart.

When no one answered, he turned to head back to the beach. Maybe they were still there, waving at the disappearing boat. He remembered seeing a few stragglers but he didn’t think he saw Hippolyta or her family amongst them. Searching the faces, his brow furrowed with consternation.

Where is she?

“Have you seen Lyta?” he asked his Uncle Castor.

He got a raised brow in return. “She just left on the boat. I was wondering why you did not see her off.”

Everything inside Cole slowed to a stop at his words. “What do you mean?”

“She left for America. Surely, she told you she changed her mind. She and her parents left on the boat this morning. She looked very upset. I assumed it was because she was leaving you behind.”

Lyta can’t be gone.

He dropped the flowers, rushing forward until he grabbed his Uncle’s shirt in his hands. “She can’t have left. She would’ve told me!”

Castor gripped his hands, shaking his head. “I am so sorry, Cole.”

His breathing pattern was changing, becoming erratic. He felt the transformation happening and fought it. He didn’t need to lose control and change into his wolf now. He needed to stay focused and find out why his female was gone.

Not yours.

Growling, the final hold on his control snapped as he transformed, spinning around to race back to her house, sniffing nearby. Uncle Castor called out to him, but he ignored him. He ran past everyone again, watching his wolf curiously.

Slamming into the door, it easily fell to the floor, allowing him inside. Searching for her scent, it wasn’t long before the sweet perfume of Hippolyta filled his nose. Tracking her was easy after that. Nose to the ground, he followed her trail, leading straight back to the beach, to the edge of the water.

She’s gone. She’s left me.

He stared after the boat that was now just a speck in the distance. Uncle Castor was still there and he dropped to his knees, patting Cole’s wolf on the head. “Did she not tell you she was leaving?”

His wolf chuffed sadly, falling to the sand. Castor petted his head again, sighing. “Damen left instructions to train you to take over this faction. I am sorry you found out this way, son.”

I’m going to train until I’m ready to lead the pack here and then I’m going to go see Lyta.

His black eye would say otherwise, but he was improving significantly with each passing day. He eyed Castor, heaving in a breath as they circled each other.

“You are almost ready to move on to fighting as a wolf,” his Uncle grinned at him, shaking out the fist he hit Cole with. “Get some of that aggression out first.”

Cole nodded, dropping lower and focusing on him. He watched Castor closely, searching for weaknesses. It was difficult. Castor was one of the strongest Werewolves on the Elder Council. Another scent intruded and his uncle’s eyes flashed behind him, a grin appearing on his face.

Fuck.

Before he could lunge to the side, he was pushed forward into Castor’s fist. Whirling around, his own fist flew out, making contact with the new opponent’s face. His uncle Pollux pulled back, swiping his hand across his bleeding lip.

“Oh look, Castor, the pup can throw a punch.”

Pollux moved forward to stand side by side with his twin, almost indistinguishable from each other aside from their scents. They grinned at him, both calling him forward. Shaking his hands out, preparing himself for the beating of a lifetime, he lunged toward them.

Castor was the first to make contact, grabbing his arm and using his momentum against him, twisting it behind his back. He kicked the back of his knee, making it bend, throwing him off balance.

Pollux kicked his other leg from under him and suddenly, Cole was flat on his stomach, his face pressed deep into the dirt, his arm screaming in pain as it was pulled higher into an unnatural position.

“He is a bit too weak to be our leader,” Pollux taunted, bending the arm further.

Cole refused to make a sound, gritting his teeth. Eyeing them as they relaxed, he kicked out with both his legs, throwing them off balance. His arm was released and he turned over, aiming a kick at Pollux’s face while he grabbed Castor’s leg, yanking hard.

They both fell and he pounced, stepping on Castor’s chest while punching Pollux directly in the nose. The satisfying crunch was all he heard as he stood, moving away from them, lifting his fists in preparation for their next attack. Instead, they stayed where they were, howling with laughter.

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