Temptation Of The Moon: A Silver Moon Novel Read online

  Picking up her glass, she raised it in a toast to her brother. “Well, here I am. Cheers.” Tipping it back, she downed the contents in one gulp, trying her best not to splutter, but failing. After a moment of coughing and forcing her eyes not to water, she met his eyes again. “So, Chase and I had an interesting night. What about you?”

  Michael’s body stilled under his sister’s gaze. “Now that you mention it, I did have an interesting night myself. Wait here.” Quickly rising from his seat, Michael hurried out of the kitchen with Chase’s eyes following him, his forehead creased in puzzlement.

  Sliding into the seat next to her, Chase slipped an arm around her shoulder, the warmth of his body heat enveloping her. Sighing once more, Luna rested her head against him, wanting more of that heat for herself. Only an hour had passed since she’d been tackled to the snow-covered ground, but the bitter cold still coursed through her veins. It was as though she had ice flowing in her body. Goosebumps broke out over her arms underneath her jumper, and it was all she could do not to snuggle in closer to Chase’s body heat. What she wouldn’t give to unzip him, jump into his body, and zip him back up again, languishing in all his glorious warmness.

  Then she remembered she was still mad at him. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do?” she asked, her voice growing cold as she pulled away from his warmth.

  “What?” Chase asked.

  Luna glanced upwards, her eyes narrowing slightly at his confusion. “You should have told me what you were going to do, Chase.”

  Brown eyes stared down into hers, his mouth opening as if to say something, but the reappearance of Michael stopped him. His sandy blonde hair was ruffled, as though he had been running his hands through it continuously, his jaw tight. He’s starting to look just like dad whenever he was troubled, Luna thought suddenly. Whenever her father had joined her in France, every so often he’d get a phone call from back home which would cause his jaw to remain locked for several hours afterwards. No doubt pack business. Michael’s jaw will stay locked unless he does something about it.

  Sitting back into his seat, Michael tossed down another creamy envelope. “After you left, I went through the mail and found this. Read it,” he told them, his tone harsh.

  Luna picked up the envelope. The creamy material was thick and textured underneath her fingers, the same as the other had been. A faint scent of dying roses wafted through the air as she pulled out a single sheet of paper.

  They are coming. They will kill you all. Prepare yourselves.

  The blood running through Luna’s veins was already cold but reading the words written on the paper turned it instantly to ice. This was bad, very bad. “Mon Dieu!” she whispered, the words trembling as they fell out of her mouth. “When …”

  Giving her a look that worried her to the core, Michael released a sigh. “It’s backdated to a few weeks ago. Judging from the scents, and the handwriting, it’s the same person who warned us last year. The postal system isn’t that great here during the winter. Frankly, I’m surprised the postman bothers trying to deliver the mail to us here. It’s a long way from town when you’re dealing with eight inches of snow.”

  Chase snatched the paper out of Luna’s hands and began sniffing at it. “Lavender hand cream. Has to be a woman,” he told them.

  Curling her fingers into a fist, Luna could feel the thumping of her heart against her chest. Only when she felt the first pricks of pain she realised she had been digging her nails into her tender flesh. Luna could feel the urge to panic, but she desperately tried to force oxygen in and out of her lungs in a calm manner. Fear threatened to engulf her mind, knocking all rational thought aside, but she pushed back against that fear. It would do her no good, nor anyone else. She had to remain calm, in control. “If this was sent a few weeks ago, then it means it was sent before the werewolf arrived. If we had received this on time, then we could have been more prepared.”

  Nodding his head, Michael sipped on his whiskey. “Yep, that’s about the size of it. We knew it was coming.” Fist slamming down on the table, Luna’s glass shot several inches into the air before falling on its side, making her jump herself. “Damn it! Why couldn’t the fucking postman deliver it yesterday? Why the hell didn’t I read it this morning?”

  After setting the glass upright, Luna reached out and touched Michael’s hand. His skin was warm, as were all werewolves, and she gripped it tight, trying to reassure him. “Mon frère, it is not your fault. You did not know they were coming tonight, no one did. You cannot blame yourself.” As he glanced upward, she gave him a small smile, one she hoped was comforting but the iciness coursing through her veins wilted it somewhat.

  Michael took back his hand, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, sis, I am the alpha of the Silver Moon pack. I am responsible for everyone in my pack. Yeah, yeah, I know you’re not a werewolf, but you’re still my sister and, as long as I’m breathing, I am meant to protect you. But I didn’t protect you tonight.”

  “Neither did I.” Chase’s voice was tight, strangled, as though he was forcing the words over a sharp rock in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Neither do I,” Michael retorted, flashing him an angry look, a hint of amber peeking through the baby blue of his eyes. “You do that again, and you won’t like what happens.” Chase inclined his head, his expression tight.

  Luna reached for her empty glass. “May I have a refill, Chase?” she asked him, deliberately lightening her voice. Werewolves’ tempers ran as hot as their body temperature; Michael was on edge, and Luna didn’t want to see her brother angry now he knew he didn’t have to hide what he was from her. Chase took the glass from her and headed to the other side of the counter. Silently, he poured another few inches into the glass before returning to the table. Taking it from him, Luna sipped on the amber liquid. She didn’t want it really, but it gave them all a chance to breathe and calm down so they could think.

  “So what now?” she asked after a few minutes silence. “What’s the next step?”

  Michael dragged a hand over his face, weariness etched across his face. “The next step is to finish your drink and go to bed. I’m going to make a few phone calls, set the alarms, and hit the hay.”

  Luna flashed him a dirty look. “Am I your sister or one of your wolves? Don’t tell me what to do, Michael. You aren’t my alpha, just remember that.”

  Michael pushed away from the table, getting to his feet. He threw up his hands, then downed the remaining contents of his glass and threw it on the table. “Whatever, Luna. You’re not going anywhere without an escort from now on. That’s my decision. I’ll be in the study making sure we’re all protected while you’re asleep in bed. Get some sleep. Training first thing in the morning and I’m telling your bloodsucker to up his game with you.” With that, he strode out of the kitchen, a scowl on his face.

  “Great, just great,” Luna muttered under her breath. “Brothers.”

  “He’s got a point though,” Chase said quietly. “You need rest.”

  Luna turned to face him, a grim expression covering her face. “No, I need answers.”

  “Answers to what?”

  “Answers to why you went into those woods alone and didn’t tell me what you were doing.”

  Chase sighed, his eyes closing. “You weren’t meant to follow me.”

  “So you said, but you should have told me what you were planning.”

  “But I didn’t really know what I was planning, princess. All I knew was that I smelled something strange while we were on the ice and then it disappeared. A few minutes later, I smelled it again. I thought I should check it out while you were changing out of your skates and then be back before you knew it.”

  Luna slammed a hand down on the table, the sting from the contact racing up her palm and past her wrist. “But I did know it, and you still should have told me, Chase! For crying out loud, there are werewolves out to get me.”

  “Yes, the
re are. That’s why I went out to check.”

  “But by not telling me what you were doing, you put me in danger. I could have chosen to stay in the crowd, or we could have gone into those woods to check things out together. But you took that choice away from me.”

  “I don’t -”

  “And then you deliberately used me as bait, Chase. Bait! You knew I was in those woods looking for you, but you didn’t come out. You left me in the dark. Literally. I couldn’t see a damn thing.”

  “I was trying to lure him out,” he started to explain, but Luna held out a hand to silence him.

  “I know, but you should have told me before you went in there yourself. I don’t mind being bait if it helps catches one of these guys. Heavens, we could use as much information as we can get from them, but you do not take my choices away from me, Chase. You are not my alpha, just like Michael is not my alpha. Do you hear me?” Luna took a step forward, standing in front of him, staring up into those chocolate brown eyes, anger and resentment flashing within her own.

  “I hear you,” he replied, his voice soft and remorseful.

  “Good. I’m going to bed.” With that, she strode out of the kitchen, leaving Chase behind.

  Four

  The bubble of frustration and anger that had started out so small was threatening to envelop her entire body. Damn everything to hell and back again. Damn Michael for his overprotective alpha crap. Damn Chase for his inability to see that she didn’t need to be mollycoddled or kept in the dark when it was her life on the line.

  And damn Pierre for his relentlessness when it came to training.

  “Come on, Luna,” he called to her in his native French as he circled her, his footsteps light in the snow. “You actually need to attack me, not just try to dodge me.”

  Luna watched as he lunged forward, twisting out of the way at the last moment. “You do realise that you’re a dhampir, Pierre? You’re stronger than I am. If I attack you, it will be like a bee sting – inconsequential. Even speed isn’t on my side. You and the werewolves are faster than me as well.” Luna hated the irritated tone in her voice as she spat the words out, which only increased her annoyance with herself.

  As Pierre hit out with his elbow, Luna dropped to the ground, kicking his ankle, causing Pierre to stumble. She lashed out again with her foot, this time kicking behind his knee. Pierre dropped to the ground. “Even bees can do damage to larger, stronger animals, my little one,” he told her with a slight chuckle, as he looked up at her from his cold position in the snow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this whiny before. What is the matter, my love?”

  “Everything!” she cried, falling into a sitting position on the ground. The snow instantly began soaking into the denim of her jeans, but she didn’t care. She didn’t give a damn if she was cold and wet. “I’m sick of everything, Pierre! I’m sick and tired of this whole damned situation. Did you know Michael has ordered that no one is to leave me on my own? I couldn’t even go to the bathroom this morning without either him or Chase escorting me like a three-year-old child. I’m sick of not being told anything when it’s my life on the line. What’s the bloody point in training when I’m up against those who are stronger and faster than I am?” She hated the whininess that coated her words, but she couldn’t mask it anymore.

  Pierre got to his feet, silently making his way through the snow towards her. She hated that about him right at that moment. Pierre was gracefulness personified, silent and deadly like a predatory cat. She was more like an elephant when it came to snow – noisy and bumbling, out of her natural element.

  Damn him again. No one should be that graceful.

  Crouching before her, Luna felt his cool finger underneath her chin, raising her head so she could meet his eyes. Pierre’s eyes were the colour of the sea when he was calm and happy – azure, warm, inviting, but in other moments, they would deepen to the same shade as the Atlantic Ocean during a violent storm. When Pierre had taken a lot of damage or hadn’t fed enough, those endless blue eyes would bleed into crimson, a sign when he was at his most dangerous. She’d only seen his eyes turn red a few times when he had suffered from attacks by phantasms, but each time had caused a river of nervousness to course through her body.

  “Ah, my little love, the point of your training, and your guards, is to give you a decent chance to survive. We want you to live. But you are not going to if you continue to sit on your delectable bottom in the snow and refuse to learn to fight, are you? Mind you, it would give me the chance to sling you over my shoulder and brush the snow off it. Perhaps that would be more to your liking, yes?” Mouth curling into a devilish smile, Pierre winked at her.

  Before she knew it, Luna burst into laughter. Shaking her head, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. Her bottom and back of her legs were already soaked through, the coldness numbing her wet skin. It was uncomfortable, but she doubted Pierre would allow her five minutes to go inside and change her jeans. No, he was as ruthless as Michael and Chase when it came to training - the bastard.

  “No more whining then,” he admonished, his voice firm. “You’re human, yes, and you are facing supernatural beings. That means you need to push yourself as far as you can go, and then push further. Werewolves are faster than most humans, so you need to be faster than other humans to try and match them.”

  “How can I be faster than most humans when I am human, Pierre?” she asked him, frustration layering her words.

  “In seventeenth-century China, a young girl created a new style of martial arts to protect herself against physically stronger opponents. It’s made of close contact combat, using kicks and punches in quick succession, with a tight defence, and agile stances and footwork. Using the right amount of force while staying relaxed, you will be able to overcome werewolf strength and force. It’s called Wing Chun, named after the girl its inventor taught.”

  “And you’re going to teach me Wing Chun?” she asked sceptically.

  Pierre nodded. “We’re going to use the principles of it in your training. Many supernatural creatures you’ll meet will be physically stronger, but if you learn how to be sensitive to them, by reacting to feelings instead of sight, you should have a strong chance of defending yourself.”

  A sense of disbelief attempted to take hold of her mind, but Luna forced it aside. Pierre was right; she needed to learn how to defend herself for when they next came for her. “Fine. Teach me.”

  Pierre worked her for an hour, taking her through the rudimentary principles of the ancient Chinese martial arts. Since the werewolves had strength, she could learn to counteract it with speed.

  Together, they worked through different stances, kicks, grabs, hooks and strikes. As the minutes turned into hours, Luna found she had a knack for the martial arts. Quick as lightning, she learnt how to react to each movement, anticipating the moves Pierre made, and hitting back at him instead of merely moving out of his reach.

  As the sweat poured down her arms and back, Luna continued to lash out, dealing blow after blow, trying to get as many punches and kicks in as possible. Soon enough, Pierre began using his supernatural speed against her, but Luna managed to make contact with him in vulnerable spots soon enough. It was only when her muscles started to scream, her lungs crying out for oxygen, that Pierre relented and allowed her a respite.

  Dropping to the snow-covered ground, Luna bowed her head, panting, desperately trying to suck in as much oxygen as her lungs could take. The snow seeped through her wet jeans once more, the coldness a welcome contradiction to her sweat-covered skin.

  Pierre, too, was panting, although not as much as she was. He wasn’t sweating either. Damn, damn, damn.

  “Well done, my little one, well done,” he told her, his voice full of satisfaction. “You have done better than I could have imagined. If you continue like that, you would be a black belt in no time.”

  Pride coursed through Luna’s body at his words, warming her inside. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth until it spread a
cross her face. Through the icy vapour from her laboured breathing, Luna watched as his eyes sparkled in the early morning light. His blonde hair was hardly ruffled, his lean body encased in a tan t-shirt and loose-fitting black trousers tucked into black snow boots. It was amazing to her that neither Chase nor Pierre felt the cold – one was too hot for the cold to bother him, the other was far too cool for it not to bother him.

  And there she was, human and feeling every single degree of it all.

  “I have a good teacher, that’s why,” she told him, her voice breathy and low. “It’s down to the teacher.”

  Pierre shook his head, his eyes disagreeing with her. “No, no, Luna. There you are wrong. I’m just doing what I can to keep you safe. Which now leaves me with the next part of your training.”

  A sense of dread flooded through her. “The next part?”

  “We have been building up your physical strength and speed as much as possible, but after talking with Michael, we think it is time to build up your magic resistance.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to enjoy this,” Luna told him, wariness in her tone, eyeing him as he strode towards her.

  Regret reflected in his azure eyes. “You’re not,” he told her. “But it’s necessary. Dhampirs have a natural resistance to most types of magic, although sorcery tends to have more of an effect on us than other magic.”

  “Like the phantasms we dealt with?” she asked.

  Pierre nodded. His eyes grew serious. “Like the phantasms, yes. It is likely that we will encounter more magic, and since your brother wants to up your training, this is what we’re going to work on next.”

  “I’m starting to hate my brother,” Luna muttered. “Fine. How do we start?”

  Pierre pulled her to her feet again. “I’m going to try using magic on you to cloud your mind. Your job is to try to see what is real through the illusion. Wait here.” Heading to his rental car, he grabbed a leather satchel and made his way back to her.