Page 5 of Moon Bound

Chapter3

Aspen

I’ve always been fast, but this is something else. Shooting across fields in mere seconds, the distance grows from those following behind. The raven only keeps up because he’s clasped in my arms. Spotting a mass of boulders lining the stream, I skid behind them and throw Sawyer into the small clearing before me. He shifts in the air, landing in a crouch. Shoving his hair aside, a pair of bottomless onyx eyes stare through me—no irises or sclera – only blackness.

“You have thirty seconds to explain what the fucking fuck just…fucked?!” I whisper-scream, my breathing erratic but not from exertion. I lash out to kick his shin when he doesn't immediately reply.

“I’m your loyal protector. Raven shifters are rare; hence we’re assigned as guardians to those the supernatural council deems…special.”

A bitter laugh babbles from me while I fist my white hair. “And you couldn’t find the time to tell me this before tonight?” Shuffling sounds before a large pair of hands encase mine. I peer up, becoming lost in the drowning sea of onyx.

“You’re not supposed to know. I’m sworn to secre-” We’re out of time. Thundering footsteps approach, and I shove Sawyer a step back. I don’t miss the pinch of hurt in his brows as he shifts back. Flapping smokey wings to perch on my shoulder, I lean back on a boulder and inspect my nails.

“Tired, Princess?” a chuckle comes. I scowl at the blonde smirking down at me.

“Funnily enough, I don’t appreciate being manhandled and mocked on the same night.” I stand, shoving my shoulder into his arm as I barge past.

“Torsten doesn’t mean to offend you,” the male calling the shots - Jaxon - pitches in. “Referring to you as your formal title is a mark of respect.” Without turning back, I wave him off, intent on ignoring the alarm bells ringing in my head. First, Swayer refers to me as ‘special.’ Now I’m meant to accept becoming a princess. At least as the lonely outcast, sheltered from the real world by my crumbling hut, the only person I had to account for was myself. And Sawyer, apparently.

“Let’s make one thing clear – you offered answers and training. Beyond that, I’ve made no promises to hang around. Show me what you went through all this trouble for, and then I’ll be on my merry way.” No other words are spoken, but I can sense the tension between the males at my back—the three I’m consciously trying to ignore. The daydreamer in me may have had moments of weakness in the past, hoping for a band of strong vampires to rescue me. But it’s far too late. Through suffering and heartache, I’ve learned to rely on my instincts. The very ones screaming that I’m being used as a pawn in someone else’s game – I just haven’t yet deduced who’s.

Somewhere along the way, Jaxon takes the lead, and considering I have no clue where I’m going, I fall to the back of the group, keeping pace with the three vampires in my view. All broad shoulders and biceps, clenched fists, and taut veins. Their arms pumping back and forth are laced with ink, intricate patterns I need the light to explore properly. Not that I’m going to. Torsten and the one I believe is Chase remain a step behind, showing their rank. Important enough to get sent for me, but a level beneath Jaxon for sure.

Eventually, after putting miles between myself and the life I once knew, we enter a dense forest—one which has been clearly and cleverly crafted into a maze. Every trunk is the same, trimmed white birches standing side by side, encased in autumn leaves. The three vampires carve a memorized path, leading me to where the tree line suddenly halts, as does my ability to breathe.

Laughter and music reach my sensitive ears on a faint breeze. Before us, a gigantic stone wall punctuated with an iron gate stands proud, but nothing could hide the silhouette of a castle looming a fair distance behind. Spiked shadows pierce the midnight sky, imposing turrets complete with jagged battlements. Enormous and daunting – exactly the type of residence I’d expect to house males this large and still adopt titles such as ‘princess.’

Light from an unusually illuminated crescent moon bathes a watch tower overseeing the gate’s activity. Shadowed guards patrol a surrounding balcony, their finer features lost against the luminous glow. All I can be sure of are the huge, muscled outlines and the crawling sense that they are all staring at me. I twist my head away, brushing my cheek against Sawyer’s silken wing in a comforting act I’ve grown to rely on. Confirming the return of their own kind, a swift alarm tears through the night, and the iron gate begins to rise.

“After you,” Jaxon gestures with an outstretched hand to ‘graciously’ allow me entry. Ignoring him, I swallow thickly and remain rooted to the spot. My heart has picked up a beat, and what’s worse is that I’m finally surrounded by those who would notice. I’ve been taught to shun the vampires. To hold a deep and burning hatred for everything they stand for. Naturally, when my first shift didn’t go as planned, it was already engrained in me to shun this side of myself. Now, I was standing in front of their castle, ready to face my…what exactly? My past? My history? My future? Myself?

Exhaling through barely parted lips, Swayer shifts to shake his head subtly, but I accept Jaxon’s hand anyway.

This is my chance. To learn and understand. To find the answers, I’ve been convincing myself I didn’t need. But as my sneakers land on the other side of the threshold to vampire territory, the truth became clearer than ever. It’s not the answers I’ve been fearing but the thought of being rejected by both sides of my heritage.

The large hand gently closes when I attempt to retract mine, although I’m focused on the landscape sprawling before me. With the castle raised on a mound, an entire society lies at its feet. Rows of buildings separated by cobblestone streets hide curious shadows within. Signs hang above doorways, from the necessities like carpenters, blacksmiths, and mechanics, to tattoo studios and hairdressers.

The nervous flutters of my heart subside, leaving a gap for something much more toxic. Hope. I expected blood-thirsty monsters and caged humans hanging from the rafters, not a hidden oasis. Not a completely self-sufficient civilization. The tales I’ve been taught begin to unravel, and now I know I’ve made the right choice. I have to see what else the shifters are wrong about.

“There she is,” a low whisper leaks from beneath a doorway. I turn to look at the woodworkers, and a pair of silhouettes in the window rush to duck out of view. Torsten stops at my other side, throwing a heavy arm over my shoulder with a knowing grin.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm you. Take your time to explore. You won’t be disturbed.” I nod with understanding. Now I know what the alarm was for. Chase steps in behind me and lays his chin on top of my head.

“Or you permit everyone to come out of hiding, and we’ll have ourselves one big orgy,” he says playfully. Both Jaxon and Swayer react – the vampires growling about speaking appropriately to a princess while the raven squawks and attempts to peck Chase’s eyes out. At that moment, I get the overriding feeling that I’m more of a prop than a guest and shake the four of them off.

“Look, you mentioned my real father being here somewhere, and since you insist on keeping up the princess bullshit, I’m going to guess he’s in there,” I point to the castle. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been a part of the whole pack-mentality thing, so I’m just going to see tonight through, and then I’ll bounce.” Without waiting around to see what all the furrowed brows are about, I shoot through wide alleyways toward the fortified structure.

The castle is more impressive up close. A mosaic of gray rocks form the exterior, every stained glass window open wide, allowing the night air to flood the interior. Thousands of occupants could be housed within the sturdy walls. Beyond the colossal structure, I spot the moon’s shimmering reflection in an endless sea. The same one beyond the hill I would visit daily to mourn. A deep breath fills my lungs, allowing the salty scent and sounds of waves crashing over rocks to pervade my senses. I may have traveled to the other end of the country and felt the stretch from my mother’s memory every step of the way, but the torment inside eases ever so slightly.

Swayer lands on my shoulder, his claws digging into my flesh. He’s concerned, and he has every right to be. A few hours ago, I was silently wishing for a different life. A better one. Could this be it? Rather than a passing visit, could I be accepted here for my true self? There’s only one way to find out.

My heart thrashes inside my chest, my palms clammy as I reach out to press a hand to the aged wood of the front door. Intricate stone carvings surround the archway, each small figure clambering over the next in a bid to commit themselves to my memory. I want to remember every detail of this moment—this feeling of anticipation. Aspen, the rejected shifter, no longer exists. Aspen, the bloodthirsty wolf hybrid, is reborn tonight, and fuck anyone who doesn't accept her. Pressing my shoulders back, I steady myself for whatever is on the other side of the door before flexing and permitting myself entry.

An unexpected and invisible attack slams into me, pain searing through my skull. I turn away, crashing to my knees in the dirt. Holding my head in my hands in a meager attempt to force out the agony, a series of hands roam my body. Voices I can’t make out vaguely call my name.

"Fuck, it burns!" Although muffled by the fangs shooting from my gums, the words burst from my lips. A blaze of agony invades my nostrils and throat, my inner wolf whimpering and rearing backward. I try to protect her, shield her from the assault. All the while, a thundering laugh booms inside my head.

Copper. Sweat. Wave after wave of arousal, the heady taste of lust hitting the back of my throat. Moans penetrate my ears, a true mixture of pain and pleasure, with the undercurrent of a hundred conversations, laughter, and even singing. I shudder, dragging in a ragged breath, but the agony continues, my skull splintering in two.

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