SLAVES TO THE MOON BOOK 1 : DENYING BRADY

The only light permitting the room was dim and it felt like all my senses were shutting down, with the exception of my sense of smell. Which on the contrary seemed to heighten with every passing second. My condition had been worsening with each episode for months. The first month was especially brutal. It felt like death was flirting with me and even though I was not ready to die. The slow brutality of the pain had me praying for instant death. That was how sick I felt.

Overwhelmed with concern, my mother’s heart bled for me and because of it, she consulted the medical wing of the were-people-council. The council helped me through the ordeal by taking measures to test with the intent to diagnose my symptoms.

They found something.

In simplicity, my body and mind were preparing themselves to receive a mate. It was normal, I was going through puberty2.0 for the soul and the were part of my biology. That had been months ago. Today I’d woken up sicker than ever the pain tangibly excruciating. I felt like death, I could smell death and at times I prayed death would just come and be done with me already. Sir Isaac the lead doctor claimed there wasn’t much to do for me other than to put me on bed rest and wait for the pull to take me home. “Home” being the arms of the mate the gods dealt me. Being sixteen I was ripe and ready to find one either by means of an encounter or a dream by the culmination of the full moon, which was on that night.

Again, I picked up that scent that had been deriding me all day and for the life, in me, I couldn’t put a word to describe it with justice. It smelt delicate, almost tangible in the air with a potency that came up in thick waves and like an idiot I tried to catch it with my hands kind of like a firefly. Of course, that didn’t work and the wolf in me couldn’t handle it so on weak legs and burning eyes I jumped from my bed and ran outside. Chasing the location of the scent that was giving me life in the midst of a suffocating cloud of death.

Something in me knew I would feel better after locating that scent.

That was the scent of my mate.

Me chasing it was basic instinct.

Me chasing it was chasing after life itself.

Outside the air was filled with that scent and my eyes burned so bad I was convinced fire could be shot out of them. I was going blind at this rate and should’ve been in bed but this scent I was picking up on was thicker than a Kardashian and kept growing larger than Kanye’s ego, haunting my insides.

It felt infuriating.

My wolf felt frustrated.

Against my will my body shifted into my wolf being, my heightened sense of smell led the way as I’d gone blind somehow. The woods always scared me but the path felt, smelt and sat familiar. Offering me an artificial privilege to howl into the night. The delicate air went too quiet all of a sudden. Then it grew serene, and the world went still slowing me down. My left ear rang with a sharp irritating deafness.

Was I going deaf too?

The frustration of my wolf bled into my veins so for no reason at all I started to chase my own tail until I landed with a loud thud on the ground; I’d been tackled from behind. On top of me was a growling midnight black wolf with shiny fur. Pounds of heavyweight and reigns on top of my fighting form. Then the midnight black wolf turned into its human form.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” the Alpha’s son growled at me.

I tried to fight him off me; being this close to him in proximity was a hard feat. The harder feat was that his exposed neck emitted the scent I’d been trailing. I had to fight my god-given primal needs internally not to take a whiff of his alluring scent.

It couldn’t be.

No.

No! No! No!

His bright blue eyes swirled with angering second-hand embarrassment as they stung mine. Humiliation washed over me in buckets, and just as quickly something occurred to me with a startle; Brady had brought back my sense of sight perfectly and that scent on him. He slammed me hardback on the ground with a sharp command. “Turn.” His voice was a warm obsidian gravel of mortar but it was his Alpha blood that compelled me to listen-begrudgingly-with unconcealed detest.

The scent of him finally settled and I felt like burying my nose into the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around him so our exposed chests could touch. His scent was calming, it filled me with pained relief but then instantaneously I remembered that this was Brady Victrolli. Same Brady who was pack leader to all the high school and some college kids in both our pack and others at school who didn’t even know his true nature, but bent to the blue in his blood all the same.

Same Brady who was widely infamous for his wild and whirlwind flings throughout our town and surrounding towns. Loved by parents, praised by elders, adored by the female specie, envied by friends and foes alike. Our pack practically worshipped him and even though he was far from coronation they saw him as a true Alpha. My own family was no exception to his charm and blue blood.

But I saw him for the selfish, ego-driven, shallow bully he truly was at his core. My best friend Danielle would also add fuckboy to the list. Yet with my luck and to my complete and utter dismay, the gods found it appropriate to make him my mate.

Him... Brady Victrolli?

Of all the people.

Of all sexes.

Did it have to be Brady Victrolli?

“Get me something for him to cover up with?” He ordered.

I turned to see who he was talking to. It was Evan who retreated to a line behind the trees and came back less than half a minute later with a shit-eating grin. A mischievous glint in his gaze and a pair of female distressed beach shorts for me to wear. I wanted to protest the clothing but I was frozen as I received them after they’d been thrust into my chest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Brady asked me again, whilst I was putting on the denim shorts.

I remember feeling massively self-conscious and sidelined to forever be the outcast. Normally when werewolves shifted they would manage to keep on at least their underwear. But mine had come off because I hadn’t quite mastered that skill yet. Skill classes weren’t the most fun to attend down at the pack grounds. Because that’s where Brady and his posse thrived most, at mine and other kids’ expense. I swear didn’t like him and yet all I wanted to do was push him to the ground, straddle his lap and kiss him senseless. I desperately wanted to push up on him and let him touch me as I drowned in his physical affection.

However this was Brady, the full moon was up at its culmination and his posse looked pissed. It figured that I must have run by their party in wolf form. Which had been a major fuck up on my part. He and his friends liked to invite mortals over to their forest parties. They also took it to great lengths to make sure wolves or werewolves weren’t seen by any humans.

Brady’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, “Malik?”

Tyler loudly snorted stumbling on his own two feet and pointing. “Fuck!! He has a boner look.”

Greg laughed along, “I can’t fucking see it, must be too little.”

“Poor girl. Found her yet?”

“Put that thing away or you’ll scare her...” Tyler guffawed. “Or him.”

“It’s definitely a male mate.” Evan agreed. “We all expect it.”

I chanced a glance at Brady and it was like he was watching me, waiting for when he would join his friends in mocking me.

“Well, in that case, thank heavens your ass is your best asset beautiful...” Tyler almost choked on his beer just to get that out. “...turn around let’s see the merchandise?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped. “Fuck all of you.”

It only riled them up more.

I could’ve cried right then and there but even as their teases and insults got louder, rowdier and nastier. I strived to maintain the little dignity I had in my humiliation by at least waiting to cry once I reached my room.