Prologue
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my sister Erica. Wait for the right one, Erica. Don’t accept second best when God (the Moon Goddess?) has your perfect mate.
This is Part Two of the Blood Moon Series. It’s not necessary to read, ‘Claiming You Under the Blood Moon’ to understand and enjoy this novel.
Prologue
Minnesota winters are harsh indeed, though you think I would have gotten used to it after living in Everton for six long years. My wolf’s blood helps keep me warm, and even now I feel her scratching at my surface, wanting to appear as I tread through the snow in my ceremonial robes and bare feet. My ginger hair has returned, and it provides additional warmth as it cascades down my shoulders in striking red waves. I hardly feel the ice between my toes.
“I think it’s so cruel of Lucas to deny you shoes, mum.”
Dedra stares at me with sympathy, pulling her shapely lips downward. A fifteen-year-old, attractive black female with pretty green eyes and soft dreadlocks that frame her delicate heart-shaped face. She is an exotic beauty and if she only knew what Alpha Lucas and my bastard husband had in store for her tonight, she would beg to escape with me …or plead for death.
We always perform the Giving Ceremony outside and without shoes. Don’t worry, my feet aren’t freezing. I’m in no pain.” I smile reassuringly at her.
“Okay,” she says and her mouth closes up like a little box. That’s how I know that deep down, she is terrified. Ever since Ian, my husband had brought her home to me as a ‘gift’, her only expressions have been weak smiles, anxious stares and slapping her hand across her own mouth as if afraid of saying the wrong thing. Ian has promised Dedra her freedom if she served me well. I don’t have the heart to tell her that this was a lie.
I won’t let them hurt you, I silently promise her, though I know she wouldn’t understand what I was referring to even if she could hear my thoughts.
The Church of the Sacrificed Saints is an outdoor venue, as many of the Blood Fangs’ so called buildings are. The ceremony is one where I am to give thanks to the Moon Goddess for my fertility and dedicate the unborn child within my eight month pregnant body into her service. Even now, I have no idea what the gender or, even more importantly, who the father of my baby is, though I pray it’s Tyrone’s. Dear Tyrone who dropped out of high-school and flipped burgers at McDonalds just so he could be closer to me. He agreed to help me with my escape plans.
My baby will be loved, I assure myself, even as I feel tiny feet kicking in my womb. She or he will not grow up to become a monster like Ian and Lucas. And it would become a monster if I continue to live in Everton among the Blood Fangs. Of that, I am certain.
Tears of pity form in my eyes and I wipe them away furiously. Pregnancy hormones. They were always putting me on the edge of tears.
We enter the church that announces itself, with tall marble columns and a pointed roof that forms a triangle at the top. No walls, though. There is a cold and silent beauty here with the stone pews covered in snow, and the life-sized statue of Luna, the Moon Goddess. She is wearing an intricately folded marble dress, her pupils are blind and uncaring.
“It’s completely outdoors? Where are the walls?” Dedra asks, her eyes widening with curiosity.
“There are no walls in the Sacrificial Church. You can kneel on the stone steps if the snow doesn’t bother you. Keep your eyes down-turned. My people believes that eyes looking at the ground shows a sign of respect.” I approach the altar.
“And pray to God?” Dedra whispers from behind. I know it’s only because she wants to know which God I am praying to. Was it Christian, Muslim or some pagan one who would demand her body in a human sacrifice.
“Yes, pray to your God, if you believe in him. Pray to him for yours and mine protection during the long nights ahead.”
I climb the few steps that lead to the altar, then step between the five foot tall candles so that I would be in view of anyone using their wolf vision.
The candles aren’t lit.
I stare at the tall, thin, naked candles, their wicks untouched by fire. At first I don’t understand the significance. Then panic floods me.
“Dedra!” I turn around. “You didn’t light the candles?”
She cringes. “Mum, you told me not to leave your side this morning. So, that’s what I did.”
“But when you said you were going to the bathroom? I thought you were just saying that as a cover story with Ian?”
“No mum. I was only showering. The Alpha Heir told me it was important that my body be clean for tonight’s services.”
She cowers before me again, as if preparing to receive a strike. What was her personality, I wonder, before Ian had broken her?
“It’s alright, it’s alright.” I give her shoulder a friendly squeeze, though now we are supremely fucked. How would Ty and Jade know that we were coming without the lit candles? It was our agreed upon signal. We would have to go back now. Get word out to Ty somehow and make some sort of excuse to come back here. Not an easy feat to do without cellphones. Even with my pregnant belly, Ian refused to let me have one.
“Alpha Princess?” I hear a cracking voice from the pews.
Hazel, a member of the Frost Fur Pack, rises from her sitting position in the third row. She is a servant of my mother-in-law and insanely loyal to her in a way that only Stockholm syndrome could produce. She comes to my side; her plump body looking dignified despite her weight and her gray hair tied into a tight bun. What is she doing here?
I face palm myself. This just keeps getting better and better.
She genuflects before me, as all Blood Fang members do before Alpha members, even though she is not true Blood Fang. She bows her head, makes a circle motion with her fist in front of her chest and then presses her arm against her chest.
“Never mind that.” I tell her, struggling with patience. “I asked you a question. What are you doing in church on a Tuesday morning?”
“Praying to the Moon Goddess for Madame’s continual happiness and wellbeing.” Madame. That is what she called Caroline, the Alpha Queen, who is also my mother-in-law. “The real question is what are you doing here?” She raises one eyebrow.
I draw myself to my full five-ten height. “I am performing the Fertility Ritual of Thanksgiving and Praise for Ian’s offspring. There’s only one problem, though. The candles are unlit.”
“Yes mum. I’ll go fetch Madame right away to light them, as well as the Alpha Prince. He should be here for the dedication of his son.”
She spins around and I grip her shoulder before she can shift into her wolf.
“No need for that. This will be a private ceremony between me, the Moon Goddess, and, uh ...Dedra.” My eyes shift nervously towards my servant, who is still kneeling on the steps. It will be difficult to explain her presence here. “All I require is for you to light the candles and then make your way back to Hallow Manor.”
“The lady must be joking. I am merely a servant of Madame’s. I have no authority to light the Divine Aegis.”
“But you know how to do it?” I press. “You could light the divine - whatever candles if you wanted to?”
“Of course, but it’s not my place to do so, mum, or yours.”
“But you will do it, Hazel. Right now. Light the candles on the order of the Princess Alpha of the Blood Fangs!”
Hazel chuckles and gives me an indulgent smile as if I were a five-year-old child. “No, I don’t think so. You have no authority over me. But I will fetch Madame and the Alpha Prince. They are the ones who should be present for such an important ceremony. Not your maid.” She sneers at Dedra as if there was a wad of chewing gum and not a human being.
Once again, Hazel turns to leave.
“Hazel?” I whisper.
“Mum?” she turns back to me.
I claw her face as hard as I can. My wolf has partially emerged, so the nails on my right hand are thick and strong ...and coated in pink nail polish.
Hazel stumbles down the steps, making a tiny shriek. She touches her cheek. “You dare to strike me?” Blood drips from her facial wound.
“I’ll do more than that to you, you bitch, if you don’t light these candles right now. Do you hear me?” My voice is steady, lethal. “Light the fucking candles!”
She stares at me as if I had gone insane. Perhaps in some way I have. Dedra cowers behind me, trusting my stalwart presence to protect her.
God, each day I’m becoming more and more like them. Turning into a cruel, evil, insensitive bitch ...
But Hazel can’t let Ian, Lucas and most of all, that cruel mistress of hers, know we’re here. That would mark the end of my escape plans. Perhaps permanently.
Hazel goes to the stone pulpit and takes a green, yellow and white lighter from its shelf. Kwik Trip’s label is prominently displayed on its side. I stare at this phenomenon in shock. For some reason, I thought some kind of magic would be involved. Not something that could so easily be solved with a cheap plastic lighter.
She flicks the lighter without ceremony. A tiny flame ignites. Within seconds, both candles burn, their sulfur-vanilla scent curling into the air.
Hazel turns back to me, hatred simmering in her gaze.
“You can go now,” I say absently, stepping between the candles. The heat, the smell—it’s oddly comforting.
“I will tell the Alpha Queen of your insubordination. She will have you stripped naked and whipped.”
“I doubt it.” I reply without looking at her. “Not with her grandson inside of me. Tell her I fucked her husband, too. Tell her this kid could just as easily be Lucas’s as well her son’s.”
Both of the women gasp. Oh, I am bold with my statements. Too bold. But being so close to freedom has made me giddy. There is no turning back now.
Hazel hurries away, ready to tell on me to Caroline. Ready to help her prepare an exotic and elaborate punishment for me.
“Oh mum, I fear for you.” Dedra rises to her feet the moment Hazel’s back is turned. “The Alpha Queen will have no mercy. Ian won’t either.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re not going back. You or I.”
I close my eyes and whisper a prayer to the Moon Goddess, though I barely believe in her.
Please, dear Luna. Don’t let Tyrone fail me. Not this time. Let him see the lit candles.
Suddenly my memories return to the teenager I was so many years ago. Naïve. Drunk on rebellion. Confusing lust for love. Mistaking a gilded cage for freedom ...
