Page 30 of Luna Rising

The part of me that was Zara wanted to wake the fuck up from this memory. I had seen enough. Zosia refused to let me go, as if needing me to witness the entire scene. I didn’t want to see what came next. It was too much. Of all the things I had expected, this was not one of them.

Zosia was also reluctant to watch the fight, but she didn’t have a choice, so neither did I.

The king’s man waved his hand and a flash of light signaled the start of the match. Even in wolf form, my sister looked malnourished. Her eyes glowed yellow as she stalked her prey.

“Both prisoners,” the king said conversationally. He gestured to my sister’s scrawny wolf. “She was our first volunteer.”

King Orrin gave no indication he knew Bettina was my sister, but he definitely knew. The man had an entire room devoted to spying on the competitors during the games. He knew all our secrets, mine in particular.

I tried to catch Zeno’s eye. He needed to pick her, no matter the outcome of the match. I refused to let her fall under another alpha’s command. Zeno never looked over.

Bettina proved a scrappy fighter, and quite viscous, which shouldn’t have surprised me. At times, she appeared feral, and that worried me. Why was she so thin? Did they not feed her?

The fight concluded, the king’s man declared Bettina’s opponent the winner. My body was as taut as a violin string. Now was the time to speak up. The words lodged in my throat as Zeno considered if either wolf was worthy of our pack.

Finally, he glanced at me. “Why don’t you decide, Zosia? You will have to spend time with these women, befriend them. Some will even attend to you at the palace. It only seems fair to consider your thoughts.”

My gaze swung back to the arena floor. Bettina had shifted back to her human form. Someone must’ve given her clothes. She stared up at me, sitting in the royal box beside King Orrin. From her vantage, it certainly seemed like a charmed life. And yet, not even a hint of jealousy flickered in her gaze.

I pointed to my sister. My voice didn’t quiver, coming out strong and clear. “Her.”

“You choose the loser. Interesting,” the king commented.

I gave him my sugary smile. “You said she was the first prisoner to volunteer. To me, that suggests she’s fearless. Anyone can learn to fight. What she lacks in skill and experience, she makes up for in nerve.”

Zeno nodded. “That’s one then. Let’s find the other forty-nine.”

Outlaws of Legend

It was still dark when I woke. Ewan was sprawled across the bed, the Egyptian cotton sheet only covering half his body. His hand was on my back as though he needed to touch me, to know I was there, even while he slept.

The dream had blindsided me. My sister was a wolf. The fucking king had turned her to spite me. Or worse. She didn’t have an alpha husband to protect her. Zeno wasn’t my real true mate, and I knew that we’d grown to hate each other. Still, he had fought and killed for me.

I debated waking Ewan, but he looked so peaceful. A lot had changed for him in a brief time. He’d become a vampire and taken his rightful place as leader of the Taurus pack, lost his father, and married and turned me. Adjusting to his new life couldn’t be easy, especially not with the constant worry I might maul someone.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled when I tried to slip out of bed without disturbing him.

I kissed his cheek. “To get something to drink. Go back to sleep.”

“Fridge,” he muttered.

I strode to the closet. Several flannels and sweaters were on one side, and there was a stack of jeans in a cubby. They were definitely men’s clothes, all sized to fit Ewan.

I selected a checkered black and red flannel that hung down to my mid-thigh, rolling the sleeves to my elbows. On tiptoes, I crept down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen. All the appliances were new and high-end, which seemed ridiculous when most would never be turned on.

Someone had stocked our refrigerator. There were neat rows of glass bottles of blood, and the door shelves held mason jars, like the ones people used for homemade jam. Each item had a printed sticker detailing the contents.

The fire in my throat started as soon as I saw the crimson liquid. I grabbed a bottle at random and scanned the label: BloodXTonic. Good enough, I thought, unscrewing the cap and upending the bottle.

Ewan’s blood lit up my tastebuds. Not nearly as satisfying as drinking straight from the source, but still pretty great. The sour note of the tonic was more prevalent in this form. I finished and ran my tongue around the rim to get the last drops.

Curious now that I’d abated the thirst, I started opening cabinets and drawers. We had a vast array of different sized bowls, all black with the same pattern. There wasn’t a plate in sight. Our silverware holders only contained spoons. I couldn’t decide if this was a joke.

A super intense espresso machine sat on the sleek marble countertop. It had a multitude of options, including a shot of blood. Whoever had that made for us was a genius. I played with the settings, crafting a caramel mocha with two shots of blood and three of espresso, and hit the brew button.

Alcohol had little effect on me, so I doubted the caffeine would either. I had to try, though. Falling back asleep wasn’t an option. I couldn’t stand seeing Bettina like that. My heart ached for her. The full breadth of my memories regarding my sister had yet to surface, but my emotional attachment to this girl I didn’t know was strong.

Was I cowardly for refusing to see the rest of the story? Yeah, probably. Here and now, I needed every ounce of my mental strength. Maybe that was selfish of me. But I couldn’t change the past, only witness the mess I had made as Zosia.

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