Broken Moon: Part 2 Read online

  "Please?" she repeated again, clutching at Cyan almost desperately. "Tell me something. Tell me one of your stories. You promised you would."

  He sighed, but wrapped his arm around her again, and she snuggled into the warmth of his body.

  "I don't have many happy stories to tell."

  "That's fine."

  Cyan paused and leaned forward to toss another hunk of wood into the fire, then settled back against the furry animal hides. "I wasn't born a werewolf like you. Most people from the forest packs aren't. When I was younger I used to spend a lot of time out by myself in the woods. I liked the peace and quiet." He rubbed the side of his neck, fingers scratching through his dark stubble. "I became part of the Mine Pack when one of them decided to take a bite out of me one evening. But I expect you already guessed that, didn't you?"

  April nodded.

  "They weren't a bad pack," he continued, "just so long as you always did what you were told. Never questioned any of your superiors. Never spoke up when they tormented any of the weaker members for fun. I was bigger and stronger than most of them, so I learned how to take care of myself, but a lot of the others weren't as lucky. I tried to look out for them, but it wasn't easy." He sounded weary, as though everything he spoke of had happened a whole lifetime ago. "I kept some of the weaker wolves safe by having them do everything I said. That was the only way to get things done in the Mine Pack. When I told them to keep their heads down, they had to do it. When our alpha was angry and looking for someone to punish, I'd take them out to hunt, even if it meant sleeping rough for days until I was sure it was safe to come back. That's what I thought being a good leader was back then. Making decisions and expecting everyone to obey for their own good."

  "It sounds like you made the right decisions," April murmured.

  "Maybe. But I started to enjoy it. I liked being in control, even if it was just a sorry handful of wolves who listened to me. Arrow—the alpha—he was getting old. He couldn't even hunt for himself any more, but he wouldn't step down and let someone younger take his place." Cyan let out a tense breath. "In the end I challenged him for leadership. I knew I could lead the pack better than him; put an end to all the terrible things him and his officers did."

  "Did you win?" April said.

  Cyan nodded, his expression grim. "He died a few weeks after the fight, but not before his officers could step in and drive me out for good. I couldn't stand up to all of them by myself, and the rest of the pack were too afraid to take my side."

  "Was she one of them? The person you lost?"

  Cyan paused for a long moment, then shook his head. "No. She came later."

  "Tell me about her." April waited, but this time he didn't respond, the silence stretching out into minutes until it became uncomfortable. She tugged at his jacket, but he leaned away to toss another log into the fire, his arm slipping from around her shoulders.

  "It'll get easier, April," he said, his voice now clear of the emotion that had crept into it over the course of his story. "Tonight will be bad, tomorrow might be worse, but a week from now you'll be hunting, or chopping wood, or making a meal, and for a little while it'll seem like the world's back to normal again."

  "I don't see how." She swallowed hard. "I never thought— I mean, I didn't expect everyone to be around forever. Not Harriet, or Gene, or even Ingrid, but... but Harper..." Despite the prickly dryness at the corners of her eyes she felt tears coming on again, and suddenly realised how hoarse and painful her throat had become.

  She forced down the painful lump of grief in her chest, though she knew it was pointless in the long run. She couldn't stifle the way she felt all night, and she wouldn't be able to sleep again without the nauseating panic rising to the surface and threatening to overwhelm her.

  "I'm thirsty," she whispered.

  "I'll see if there's anything in the trunk." Cyan struggled to his feet, wincing at the effort, and for a desperate moment April clung on to him, afraid to be alone without the warmth of his body close to hers. He knelt down, took her hand between his palms, and eased it off his jacket. "I'll be right back. I'm not going anywhere." He met her gaze with those solemn amber eyes of his, glowing in the firelight almost like those of his wolf. They were wild eyes, full of painful memories that reflected her own, but hardened with a determination and strength that she lacked right now.

  Who was this man who had become her only island of comfort on this terrible night?

  "Watch the fire," he said, nodding towards the flames as he pressed a stick of wood into her hand. She nodded, clutching it tight, and turned away from him to poke at the logs blazing in the fireplace, trying to focus on the heat pressing against her face and sting of it against her exposed knuckles. She'd taken off her mittens at some point while she dozed. She couldn't remember when. Maybe Cyan had taken them off for her.

  He rummaged through the trunk in the corner of the cabin, tossing a bundle of something on the table and emerging with a metal pan in his hand. "I'll get some snow to melt, it'll just take a minute."

  April nodded, but as a rush of howling wind blew in through the open door she froze, remembering the snarling ferals, the cold ground beneath her, the sight of Harper's body falling from the bridge. She clutched the stick with both hands until it hurt, screwing her eyes shut as she fought the wave of panic building inside her.

  Was this how those wretched creatures had gone feral in the first place? Losing someone, or having to face something so painful that it drove the animal part of them wild, until the only refuge from it all was to retreat into the beast within them and stay there for the rest of their lives?

  She opened her eyes when the heat of the flames licking up the side of her stick reached her fingers, dropping the burning piece of firewood into the grate with a gasp. The door clicked shut again, and Cyan rested a hand on her shoulder as he knelt down beside her, placing the pan full of hard-packed snow near the grate to warm.

  She pressed her stinging fingers to her mouth and leaned in to him, taking strength from his presence once more. "I wouldn't have made it through tonight without you," she said with a sniffle. "Not just the wolves, but everything else, too. I've never felt this alone before, not ever."

  "I won't go anywhere," he replied. "I found some dried food in the trunk. We can stay here till you're ready to go back to the camp."

  "I don't want to go anywhere. I wish I could just stay here forever."

  "I know," he said, "but you'll be able to face the world again eventually. Until then, just try to be brave."

  They watched the fire together until the snow in the pan had melted and Cyan offered it to her for a drink. The metal edge was hot against her lips, but the water was still cool and refreshing. She shivered as it ran down her throat, soothing the pain inside her slightly, and she drank until her breath ran out and she dropped the pan back into the hearth, gasping for air.

  "What am I going to do when I get back home?" she said, tears in her eyes once more. "They'll make me find a new mate. Everyone has to have one."

  Cyan frowned. "Even if you don't want it?"

  She nodded. "That's the way it's always been. We have to carry on the pack for the next generation."

  "What if you say no?"

  "No one ever says no."

  "You could. I won't pretend I know your pack better than you do, but they don't seem like bad people. They wouldn't force you into it, would they?"

  April shrugged, sniffing as her tears spilled down her cheeks. "It doesn't matter. I'd be betraying them. They raised me, cared for me, and they've always been there when I needed them. This is the only thing I'm expected to do in return. How do you think they'd all look at me if I refused?"

  "You must have talked to some of them about this, what about Harper—"

  "No!" she exclaimed with a sob, beating the heel of her palm against the floorboards. "Never! Never once, especially not with him! I'm only telling you because—" She looked up at him, her glistening eyes flitting back and forth across his
face, and shook her head faintly.

  "Because I'm not one of them?" he said.

  "You can't tell anyone, please, Cyan, they'd hate me if they knew!"

  "I won't." He cupped the back of her head, his grip firm and reassuring, and looked her in the eyes. "And I don't think they'd hate you. Believe me, there are plenty of people who'd feel the same in your position."

  "Not in the Highland Pack." She dropped her gaze, her breath coming in hiccups. She clutched at the front of his jacket, her thumbs rubbing up and down the hard metal teeth of the open zip. "Maybe I'm not thinking straight." But that was a lie, wasn't it? As terrible as she felt right now, these doubts had been with her for months. Years, even. Ever since she'd realised that one day she'd be expected to take a mate and perform her required duty for the pack. Harper had made it easier for her; made it seem like they were just two friends dealing with it together, but now he was gone, along with that illusion of security.

  She'd never wanted to be paired with any male from her pack in that way, not even Harper, really. How could she? They were her family. She'd grown up knowing every single one of them. She didn't want anything to change.

  "Do you think this is my punishment?" she said softly. "For not wanting him as my mate?"

  "I don't think anyone gets punished for how they feel, only for what they do. You went along with it despite how you felt, and you should never have had to do that in the first place."

  She looked up at him again. "Do you think so?"

  "You can't force someone to feel something they don't, April, and if you do it'll only end up in someone getting hurt. Believe me, I know."

  She gazed into his eyes, feeling all of the pain they held, all of the conflicted emotions, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of her own heartache reflected there. He understood. The only person who ever had.

  She leaned forward, tilted her head back, and kissed him.

  Before she even realised what she'd done his hand was pressing against her shoulder, pushing her back with a firmness that was equal parts gentle and stern.

  Their lips parted, but the taste of him lingered, so different from all the times she'd kissed Harper; like a rich woodland spice.

  "No." He shook his head. "I know you might think you want it, but you don't. And I couldn't, not like this."

  "But... my instinct, Cyan, it's— I just want to feel normal again. Like... like there's someone there for me."

  "I'm not that person."

  "You were there when I needed someone! You're still here. You're... you're not like the others."

  "Is that a good thing?"

  "Yes!" She tugged on his jacket. "I don't know if I can bear it. I don't want to go back there, not knowing what I'll have to do. I can't... Just for tonight I need someone, even if it's just to pretend."

  "You'll regret it tomorrow, and I can't leave you feeling like that."

  "I know, I know I will," she sobbed, leaning her forehead against his chest, wishing she could stay there forever. "I'd rather feel bad tomorrow than face the rest of tonight like this. I'm not just being emotional I— I really don't think I can bear it, Cyan. Please just be there for me?"

  She was afraid. Afraid of facing a world without Harper. Afraid of the life she'd go back to once the sun came up. Afraid her grief would overwhelm her and she'd wake up tomorrow as one of those feral beasts. Cyan was there for her, and right now she needed to feel like there was someone in the world who could make it all better again.

  Even if it was a lie.

  * * * * *

  If she'd been a human girl Cyan would have put an end to it there and then.

  He felt for her, he genuinely did, and her kiss had ignited a desire in him that he'd almost forgotten. Intimacy. Someone wanting him. Someone needing him.

  But she was distraught, her partner only a few hours dead, and even if April and Harper's union hadn't been all it seemed, everything about this was still wrong.

  He wanted to take care of her. His inner wolf craved it, that long-buried desire to perform the duties of an alpha, tending to those that relied on him, taking control and making a choice...

  He took a deep breath. "April, you don't know what you're asking me to do. It's not just what you need, your wolf's instincts, it's mine as well."

  "I trust you," she said, and her words were so genuine it made his chest tight with pain.

  You really shouldn't. If you knew...

  He should have put a stop to it, but she wasn't a human girl, and he wasn't a human male. His animal side understood that. Though it pained him to acknowledge it, he knew he couldn't listen only to his civilised sensibilities right now.

  They were werewolves. Their whole existence was a war between two minds that saw the world in two very different ways. Emotional extremes were dangerous, especially when they involved a wolf's instinct in some way. He'd seen others driven wild by experiences like this, and once or twice he'd even managed to bring a person back from the tipping point.

  Stop thinking about it, listen to your instincts for once.

  His instincts told him he could help her. Perhaps part of it was his own isolation, his own need for companionship—or maybe something even darker. Lust for a beautiful, vulnerable girl. He remembered stalking the hare earlier, the taste of hot blood on his lips, and the feeling of elation that had followed.

  "If I do this," he said steadily, gripping her by the shoulder, "I can't promise I'll be the same person. My wolf... he wants you in a way I know I shouldn't." He snarled suddenly, turning away.

  No. He couldn't. What kind of man would take advantage of this, think about his own desires with a girl whose whole life was falling apart around her?

  Arpil took his head between her hands, the smooth skin of her palms brushing against his rough stubble, and he grabbed her by the jacket, muscles tensing, ready to push her away.

  But he didn't. His fingers twisted through her clothing, clutching so hard it hurt, her thumbs stroking his ears as she tilted his face back towards hers. She looked into his eyes, longing, desperate, lost, and he dragged her forwards into a furious kiss.

  It hurt. Tongues and teeth and lips pressing and pushing, and in an instant any weakness he'd seen in April was gone. Everything she'd been bottling up came out in that kiss, and he felt every bit of it. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck, dragging her body against him as her hot mouth devoured his, her sweet taste of autumn blossoms flooding his senses as her tongue curled and fought with his own.

  Words and tears hadn't been enough to comfort her, his inner wolf had known that. Perhaps, if their positions had been reversed, he'd have rushed out into the night and torn a wild animal apart, or fought a beast twice his size, or run for hours until his paws were bleeding and he collapsed with exhaustion. Sometimes words and tears just weren't enough; there was more that needed to come out.

  He tasted the faint tang of blood where teeth had nicked at soft skin, though whether it was hers or his he couldn't tell. When their lips parted it was only for a second, the hot breath of the two werewolves mingling together as their faces hung inches apart. Then she kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip as he took her upper into his mouth, tugging with his teeth and closing his eyes as her feminine scent filled his lungs, a feral growl building at the back of his throat.

  He pushed her down on the pile of furs, her fingers tearing at the front of his shirt as she dragged him down after her, and he kissed her again.

  * * * * *

  April welcomed the force with which he threw her down, her mouth still aching with the intensity of their kiss. She wanted his aggression. She wanted it to be painful. Anything to blot out the reality of the world right now.

  Guilt, shame, fear; maybe they were all things she should have been feeling right now, but they were a dim undercurrent to the heartache of her loss, and the passionate emotions she was trying to bury it under. More than anything she wanted her world to become simple again, even if it was just for a few moments. If she cou
ld want Cyan hard enough, then maybe, just maybe...

  She dragged his hunting jacket off his shoulders, shivering with a mixture of cold and desperation as she squirmed out of her own warm clothing. Cyan placed a hand on her bare shoulder as she shed her jacket, his fingers cool and calloused, and tugged the thickly furred hide they lay on around them, enclosing them together between its insulating folds. He lay on top of her, his large body encircling her petite form, thighs astride her hips and hands resting either side of her head. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, looking down at her with those painful amber eyes, and she clutched at the front of his shirt again, balling the fabric between her fists as she dragged herself upwards to kiss him, her lips meeting his chin and the roughness of his stubble, the taste of his body, the musky scent on his neck.

  A growl shook his broad chest as he lowered himself against her, the gentle weight leaving her feeling helpless as he clutched at the back of her neck, twining his fingers into her hair and easing her head back so that he could kiss her delicate throat.

  Her brows knitted together with a whimper, clinging on to him tight as he kissed and nicked at her pale skin with his teeth, his hunger for her so genuine that for a second she allowed herself to take genuine pleasure in it, letting out a gasp as a shiver of ecstasy ran through her body, the pain in her chest dulling faintly.

  It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to let her know that she needed more. She could block out the pain, the maddening nausea of her loss, and that was the only hope she had right now.

  She kissed Cyan's ear furiously as he buried his face in the side of her neck, clutching at his hair as she grit her teeth, pressing her body up against the hardness between his legs and the firm contours of his muscles. She felt the same wild strength in him that she'd glimpsed when he fought off the ferals, urgent and relentless, guiding her into position for him and parting her thighs with his knees even before she'd begun to squirm out of her jeans.