Their Silver Moon

Alice Black

If I could have, I would have snuggled deeper into the blankets - the strong clean scent of linen welcoming me as I woke, and I pulled the duvet up under my chin, letting myself be embraced by the comfort of my bed. Letting myself relish in that moment, in the warmth, the comfort, in the bliss, in happiness.

There was a slight breeze, fluttering against my skin, warm and soothing. Most likely coming from the same source as the light that filled the room. The fluttering of the wind and curtains seemed to run in sync with the breathing behind me, the steady heartbeat. Such a familiar sound, it seemed to lull my body, keeping me in the state of comfort, keeping me in the land between my dreams and reality.

Strong arms found their way around me, pulling my back closer to his chiselled chest, pulling me into the heat of his body. I allowed myself to be warmed by him, I allowed his hands to run across my skin, tracing the line between fabric and flesh. But his skin felt too hot, his hands too warm, I felt too warm.

Something wasn’t right.

The mattress dipped as he shifted, planting kisses along my skin, his body now leaning over mine, I felt his chest, his arms, his everything against me.

And yet something inside me screamed, a sense, a feeling, something that made me open my eyes. As I looked down, I noticed the colour of his skin, how rich and tanned it was, how this wasn’t the hand of my mate. His arm wrapped around my body and he clasped onto my neck holding me against the mattress.

His touch burned and his eyes flared.

Hassan’s eyes sparkled wickedly, as he looked down at me, as his smile made my stomach churn.

“No,” I breathed, his hand restricting the air in my lungs.

“Did you sleep well, my mate?” he asked.

“No,” I repeated, this time, louder.

This time, it was enough to wake me, and I sat up, blinking at my surroundings. I wasn’t in a room filled with white light and white sheets, I hadn’t woken up next to Hassan, he was dead. I shrugged the sleeping bag, up around my shoulders and wrapped my arms around myself, running my shaking hands against my cold, cold body.

The darkness of the night welcomed me instead, the moonlight seemed to wash across the rocks and bushes, long shadows cast by the trees. The light breeze in my nightmare shook the trees ever so lightly as birds and bugs filled the air, dancing fearlessly in the moonlight, in the presence of moon spirits.

From where I had been lying, I had a perfect view of the moon, and as I looked back up at it, I swear they were looking back down at me. The spirits of the moon, of the night and of the sky.

The spirits that werewolves so carelessly worshipped, the spirits that supposedly decided our fates before we were born. They would decide our mate, our children, our death, all before we’d breathed our first breath. “Let me find him,” I asked, and I rested my head against the rough bark, that I’d leant against, “please, let me find him.”

I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of the forest, the earth, the pine, the cool crisp air that filled the space between matter. A sudden increase in wind made me snap my eyes back open and I looked for Patricia who was still asleep next to a nearby shrub, her face scowling despite her sleeping state.

I rose from my sleeping bag, peering around the forest around me.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Nathaniel Black

His cool fingers traced under my chin, but I no longer flinched at his touch, how could I when every part of my body had been rubbed raw with silver. Silver that he seemed to be made of.

“Are you ready to talk, Alpha?” he asked, his brow now slightly furrowed – that was new, he never looked this unhappy.

“About what I’ll do to you,” I growled, snapping at the hand he quickly retracted away from my teeth.

His unhappiness fell from his face like a mask, quickly replaced with belittling amusement “Oh, you’re still very lively then, got quite the bite in you, don’t you,” he chuckled as he stepped back and sat down at a stone table.

He waved his hand, and an unseen force seemed to move my body, giving me a strength, I didn’t have nor could control – my body sat itself on the other side of the table where he slid a metal tray towards me. My body flinched at the high-pitched scrape that hurt my ears, when had I become so sensitive to this? When had my body and soul been so separate?

“How is your wolf?” he asked, his voice cruel and teasing.

I looked down at the empty tray and then back at him, clenching my jaw I refused to give him the satisfaction, the knowledge of the emptiness inside me, the incapability to shift the incapability to mind link my pack, my mate. I refused to tell him how human I felt, how mortal and fragile, how my body now seemed to depend on food and water to live, no longer an essence, a presence.

He smiled, his same wicked smile, “Your mate seems to be coming to get you,” he purred, a wildness, an insanity spreading across his face. “I look forward to meeting her, Alice seems to be quite the incredible person.”

“How do you know her name?” I spat.

“You told me,” he chuckled and with a wave of his hand food appeared on the tray, “now eat, I need you alive when she arrives.”