Bad moon, p.1
Bad Moon, page 1
The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are completely fiction and are in no way meant to represent real people or places.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this eBook with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2020 JJ King
All rights reserved.
Bad Moon
ISBN- 978-1-989794-11-1
For my family.
Love you but maybe don't read the sexy parts.
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter One
“I’m so sorry, Sylvie,” I whispered, keeping my voice low in case my mom or dad ventured near enough to hear me talking about them. “She’s just so excited to meet you.”
“Nonsense, Elena. No need to apologize for your parents. Your mother is a lovely woman and your father is possibly one of the nicest men I've ever met." Sylvie lifted her gaze to where Bradley Jensen leaned against the backyard bar counter talking shop with the bartender, who, hilariously, had been born and raised around two hours from where we lived back in Newfoundland. “He seems to be more settled now that he's found someone to talk to.”
I appraised my father, trying to see him through Sylvie's eyes, and saw a tall man with wide shoulders and work-calloused hands. He had a quiet strength, a rumbling laugh, and an easy way about him that put others at ease almost immediately. Still, I knew he felt out of place surrounded by the Alpha family of Canada, which was why he'd found the only other Newfoundlander and would spend the rest of the evening happily comparing NHL hockey teams while sipping Coors Light from the bottle.
My lips twitched into a smile. Biological father or not, he was my dad and I loved him.
My mother's bright laughter drew my gaze.
I groaned quietly as Sylvie laughed. Gretchen Jensen had cornered Katherine, Sylvie's eldest child and only daughter, and had pulled out a scrapbook of clippings she'd been putting together for as long as I could remember. Katherine was graciously chatting with her and, occasionally, signing her name with a flourish to pictures and articles about her and her family.
I glanced over at Sylvie. "You know she's going to hit you up next, right?"
Sylvie sighed dramatically. "No! The horror!" She grinned, pushed to her feet, and excusing herself, walked straight across the yard to join Katherine and my mother.
Finally alone, I took a sip of my wine and quietly slipped into the house away from the laughter, expectations, and watchful gazes of my friends and family.
The smile I'd been holding onto all day, no, more like all month, fell from my face. I put my nearly empty glass down on the first table I saw, then made my way to the small washroom down the hall, wishing I could just retreat to my room.
But I couldn't do that, not after all the hard work I'd put into reassuring everyone that I was alright, that I wouldn't fall apart if they just stopped watching me for a moment. I closed the door behind me and locked it, then sat on the lid of the toilet and rested my face in my hands, utterly exhausted by the effort it took to appear normal.
Someone would come looking soon. They always did, without fail. Even though they all agreed that I was ready to go back to Alpha Wolf Academy, it was like they couldn't take that final step away and leave me to my own devices. I sighed and lifted my head, knowing they weren't wrong about me. I might be going back to AWA, but I wasn't entirely ready or prepared.
My stomach twisted in knots at the thought of going back to the place I'd learned of my real identity, of my destiny, as The Sisterhood saw it. Logically, I knew the Academy had nothing to do with the twist of fate that was my life, but I couldn't help but think that all my problems had started the moment I'd walked through those illustrious gates. I'd been a simple girl once, with family and friends, and a home by the ocean. Now, I was the heir to the Russian Alphaship, The Sisterhood's secret weapon against the patriarchy, and a murderer.
I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed through the wave of roiling dread that filled me every time I thought about the scene that had met me when I'd finally gained consciousness after my abduction.
Viktor's body had lain crumpled at my feet, a husk of skin and bone, devoid of soul and mind. He'd deserved it, I'd thought, seeing him there, remembering the horrors he'd inflicted on me for hours on end. It had been self-defense, I'd reasoned, even as the darkness had taken me in and out of consciousness.
Hands connected to bodies of people I didn't know had lifted me from the floor of that torture chamber and carried me out of the house towards freedom. I'd floated as if in a dream, riding the edge of lucidity, and let them lead me, towards the helicopter, past the bodies that lay strewn on the ground outside, like broken dolls.
Sweat broke out over my skin and I moved to the sink to run water, as cold as possible, to splash on my face and neck. I didn't have to think about them, not now, not while a party for my departure to school in the morning was happening right outside. I didn't need to torture myself with the blurry memory of their faces, what little I remembered, because it hadn't been my fault. I hadn't been in control.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? I hadn't been in control. Was I now? Could the emotions welling up inside of me burst free and slaughter everyone outside, regardless of their innocence and trust in me? I thought of Katherine’s daughter, Eve, in her little frilly baby bikini with droopy Pamper bum, playing with her dad in the pool, and shuddered.
I splashed water on my face again, then raised my gaze to the mirror and stared into the face of a killer.
I looked away from my reflection, unable to stomach the sight of myself. Dr. Mira thought it was an important step, facing my reflection, and had made me look at myself during every one of our sessions. I'd done it because I had to, because the weeks I'd spent curled in a ball, in bed, in the dark, unable or unwilling to speak or eat, had made people look at me a certain way, with pity and sadness. I'd fought to come back from that place, from the stillness and solitude inside my mind, back to the jarring light of reality and the knowledge of what I had become to stay alive.
"You're a survivor, Elena," Dr. Mira had told me, over and over, surely thinking that eventually the words would sink in.
I was a survivor, alright, but at what cost?
"Elena?" I heard a voice call out softly from the back door.
With a sigh, I patted my face dry, flushed the toilet I hadn't used, and called out, "Coming." Then, drawing on courage, I pulled my shoulders back and walked out of my petite fortress of solitude with a smile lifting the corners of my lips and a ball in the pit of my stomach.
“It’s too hot,” Daphne complained from the middle of the swimming pool, where she’d spent the entire party. She wore a tiny black bikini that displayed her gorgeous belly bump, which really was more like a basketball beneath the skin than an actual pregnant stomach, and a yellow wide-brimmed hat to shield the sun. “Seriously, isn’t anyone besides me dying here?”
I smiled, almost genuinely this time, at the keen edge of desperation in her tone, and crossed to the bar mini fridge to grab her a bottle of water. She was growing a human inside that basketball. It seemed like a small thing to help her, barely a thing at all.
The water looked inviting, so I lowered myself to the edge of the pool and slipped my bare legs into its warmth, disappointed that it wasn’t cooler. “Here,” I said, extending the bottle as far as I could reach. “This water might actually be making you hotter.”
“Ughhh,” Daphne moaned. “I know. It must be doing something, though.” She lowered her sunglasses and gestured to her eyes, which were alternating between a beautiful amber shade and a glowing gold. I stared because I’d never seen anything like it before. “Weird, right? The baby isn’t happy in this heat. She’s been setting these off all day.” She moved as gracefully through the water as an extremely pregnant woman could and took the bottle from my hand. “Old Ones, thank you!” She twisted the top off and lifted the bottle to her lips, not stopping until it was empty. When she opened her eyes this time, they were brown.
It was nice to have something, anything, pique my interest, so I followed the thread and asked, “Can you feel it? When they change?”
Daphne flipped her hand back and forth. “Yes and no. It’s less a feeling and more a knowing. If you know what I mean.”
I had no idea what she meant but didn’t want to be rude, so I nodded.
Daphne lowered her sunglasses again and put the now empty bottle on the pool deck. “I might need an ice bath soon,” she muttered under her breath.
The small connection I’d felt a moment before began to fade, slipping further from my reach with every passing second. I dove for it, suddenly de
Daphne’s eyebrow quirked up over the rim of her sunglasses. For a moment, I thought she’d dismiss my question and tell me it was none of my business. Then she shrugged, and replied, “Well, funny thing. It turns out we aren’t the only kind of shifter in the world.” She lifted her fingers to form quotation marks around her head. “Multi-shifters, although I’m not too impressed with that term, exist, and I’m one of them.”
My mouth fell open a little at the worldview shifting news, which had been delivered as casually as a request for another bottle of water, which came a second later.
“Sure, yeah. Okay,” I mumbled, climbing to my feet to retrieve another bottle. My mind spun with the implications as my feet carried me to the fridge. This time, I grabbed two bottles, one for her and one for me. I’d always attributed Irish ancestry for my red hair and fair skin, which loved to burn, but, apparently, I had Russia to thank for that genetic goldmine.
My mind buzzed with the implications of Daphne's casually shared origins. What did it mean for Wolf kind? What exactly was a multi-shifter? Could Daphne shift into any animal, or was she limited to just a few? And the baby… was she or he able to do the same?
I barely noticed Keme stepping out of the house, I was too wrapped up in the sudden clarity of my thoughts. But when his expression darkened as I made my way towards his wife and unborn child, and his direction altered to cut me off, my newfound clarity evaporated.
"Here," he said, holding out his hand for the bottle. "I'll get that to her." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed with the twinge of nerves that had become all too familiar over the last two months.
I nodded as my stomach churned and pressure began to build in my chest once more. It was a constant companion, that feeling of being impacted by the weight of my power. His fingers took the bottle from mine, then jerked back as if he couldn't stand to touch me.
Buzzing, like a million bees in my brain, chased away all thoughts of multi-shifters, leaving me alone and slightly confused. I turned slowly, feeling as if I were trapped in the dregs of a nightmare, and walked away with my head drooping.
It was sweet, really. I could see that beyond the soul shattering realization that he was protecting his family from me. From what I was capable of doing. Male wolves, and females, for that matter, often found themselves particularly protective of their mates during a pregnancy. Why wouldn’t he want to protect them from a potential threat?
Bash had been by my side when I’d woken up, days after the doctors had said there was nothing physically wrong with me, I was choosing to stay inside my head.
He’d been with me during those first few weeks while I tried to block out the world and curl back into that quiet place. He hadn’t said much or forced me to move faster than my mind would go. He’d just been there, nearby, always ready to soothe a nightmare or hold my hand.
I missed him now, even though he’d only been gone a week and I would see him tomorrow. I’d called him my rock before and felt it was truer than ever. Without him, my foundation was unsteady, at best.
“Hey.” Katherine’s approach pulled my attention from the expecting couple and back to the present. I’d spent too much time in the past lately. It was hard to stay rooted in the now.
“Hey.” I forced a smile just like I did every time someone spoke to me and graciously accepted the ice-cold bottle of beer she handed me. Daphne might be the only one gestating, but she wasn’t wrong about it being hot. Newfoundland summers weren’t known for heat waves. “Thank you.” I put the bottle to my lips and took a long pull. The cold yeasty flavor coated my tongue and brought back memories of laughter and love. A lifetime ago, it felt like. I swallowed and felt the loss of the memory tighten my chest.
Happiness was a fleeting thing. If I could just find a way to hold onto it for more than a few seconds… maybe I’d find my way back.
“He doesn’t mean it,” Katherine said with a quiet sigh. “Not really. It’s just…” she trailed off, lifting her hands in an unsure gesture.
She didn’t know what to say. I got that.
“It’s okay.” I pushed through the wall of exhaustion that pressed down on me. “I understand.” I smiled again in an attempt to put her at ease and turned my focus to the lawn where Eve was chasing her father in tight circles. She’d abandoned her soggy bottom bikini for fur and was utterly adorable.
I could feel Katherine’s love for her daughter and mate radiating off of her and wondered if she’d block me from getting too close to them, too. The heaviness in my chest made it hard to breathe.
“I don’t blame him,” I assured Katherine, knowing how close she was to Keme and his family. When she didn’t say anything, I smiled, took another drink of beer, then set the bottle down and turned towards the house, too tired to keep up the charade any longer.
I didn’t blame him, I thought as I climbed the long curved staircase to the second floor.
I blamed myself.
Chapter Two
It felt like déjà vu, walking into the auditorium at Alpha Wolf Academy with my leather backpack slung over my shoulder. This time, though, my skirt was the right length and the pin on my blazer showed I was no longer a freshman.
I also wasn't alone anymore.
I heard my name called out in a familiar husky tone that tugged at my heart immediately. Rory stood and waved. Her lips curled in a welcoming smile that was reflected in her big dark eyes.
It was so genuine, so real, that the forced smiles and worried glances of the past few months hit me like a blow once more. I stifled a grimace, shot her my best smile, and made my way down the aisle to join my friends and my mate.
"Old Ones, I missed you!" Rory murmured as she wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my shoulder. Her pixie haircut, so perfect for her petite angled face, had grown out over the summer and was now a cute short bob that angled along her chin. It was also teal blue.
“Missed you, too,” I whispered in a husky tone that felt dredged up from my soul. I really had missed her. Of all my friends and family, her dark humor reflected my darker view on reality now. The heaviness in my arms seemed to lessen as I lifted a hand to finger the sharp edge of her cut. “Love the color.” I didn’t even need to force the enthusiasm into my voice.
I moved past Rory, accepting tentative hugs from her girlfriend, Addison, and Daniella, whose sharp emerald green eyes saw more than I found comfortable revealing.
"Hey," I murmured, glancing past her to where Bash waited patiently.
"Hey, yourself," Daniella said quietly, narrowing her eyes speculatively. I wondered how much Bash had shared with her and how much she was picking up through the weird twin connection she had with my mate. Daniella's chin jutted up slightly. "You alright?"
A smile, as impenetrable as a shield, brightened my face automatically. "I'm good," I promised, although, deep down, I knew she saw right through me. Shifting uncomfortably at her prolonged scrutiny, I squeezed past her and stepped into Bash's arms.
He smelled like home. Not the fresh scent of grass and tang of ocean air, but of completion and wholeness. Home wasn't a place anymore; it was the man whose arms wrapped around me now and held me close.
His lips pressed against my head and murmured into my hair, "I missed you."
I didn't bother looking up at him because it would've meant pulling away and I didn't want to. So, instead, I just echoed his words into the curve of his neck and felt the jump of his pulse beneath my lips.
The sound of a finger tapping a microphone silenced the room a moment later. Reluctantly, I pulled away from my mate, slid my fingers through his, and took the seat between him and his twin.
Headmistress Donahue strode onto the stage looking for the world like a super posh sexy librarian. For this year's commencement speech, she had chosen a deep aubergine sheath dress that curved over her breasts and hips perfectly, revealing her femininity and strength. I dropped my gaze to her shoes and noted the signature red soles. These were gold and sparkly, and sported dagger heels. I was impressed and a little jealous of Donahue's shoe collection. Not that I'd wear them, I thought, glancing down at my black ballet slippers. I wasn't exactly the fancy dress type.
