Blood Moon: Fangs

Blood Moon: Fangs

Ivy

“Good morning, beloved royals!” I burst into the dining room, unsuccessfully infecting everyone present with my eager excitement.

My father grunted in displeasure; my mother smiled sadly, and my little brother, Xander, pouted as he fidgeted with the blueberries littered over his mountain of pancakes.

“Do you have to go?” Xander pushed a berry aimlessly around his plate as he frowned.

“Hey! You should be excited for me,” I said, walking behind him and ruffling his midnight black hair, which streaked shades of envious rich red wine in the sun. His gorgeous golden eyes glimmered with sadness as I crouched beside him.

I had been planning this trip for months – ever since I persuaded my father to agree, that is.

Even though Xander was seven, the fourteen-year age gap never dissuaded us from being close. He was tall for a seven-year-old and had sharper features than you would expect, something he had inherited from our father. But his tiny button nose and rosy, round cheeks gave away his youth.

“The second I return, we will play from sunrise till sun-down. I promise,” I held out my pinkie in wait.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he lunged into my arms and strangled my neck.

“Your sister might even find her mate,” my mother added, rubbing small circles against his back.

This got Xander pulling away from me, an eager smile upon his lips, “Not so fast, Mum,” I added swiftly.

I experienced my heat when I was 17, but I never met my mate. I wasn’t as fortunate as my mother or grandmother in the mate department.

The pain was unbridled and unstoppable; it lasted for hours, and because everyone around me was either family or happily mated, I couldn’t quench my need to be satisfied. That and my overly protective father wouldn’t let a single unmated male set foot near me in that state.

That night nearly broke me…

For a Lycan, the pain goes beyond just physical; your Lycan feels lost without their other half, and a feeling of loneliness and grief-stricken madness takes over at the lack of emotional connection.

So, I distracted myself as much as I could.

I focused on training, my education, and most importantly… my little brother.

Xander was a little miracle sent from the moon goddess herself. After years of trying for a second child, my parents were unsuccessful, until little Xander came along. My mother almost lost her life, but she pulled through, and Xander was the brightest, most innocent and kindest-hearted soul you would ever meet.

But I had never felt truly free.

I felt like some huge part of me was missing, mate or not.

I wanted to discover who I was, so I decided to take a journey of self-discovery. I had never explored the world, I had never met other witches aside from my mother or grandmother, and I had never met a vampire. I had heard stories, but that was about as far as my imagination could take me.

Don’t get me wrong – a small, smidgen part of me hopes I may find my mate on my journey, but my main goal is to discover the world. Find out who I am.

“I don’t understand why you want to travel. You have everything you would ever need here,” my father added, stuffing a slab of crispy bacon into his mouth with such aggravation you’d think the meal had scalded his tongue.

“You were the one who accepted my challenge,” I stood tall, hands planted firmly on my hips as I cocked a brow.

He rolled his eyes at my response.

I challenged my overbearing father in that if I landed a punch on him, I could leave for 6-months. And I did… just barely.

My mother chuckled, “Come, let’s get a decent meal in you before you leave,” my mother gestured towards the seat beside my father.

A few moments later, the doors opened wide, and Belvedere, Eden, and their daughter, Sophie, AKA my best friend and adopted sister, entered.

“Sorry for being late. Someone thought it would be wise to sneak out at all hours of the night,” Eden groaned.

Sophie shrugged, planting herself beside me, “I was meeting Jasper,” she defended, “It’s not my fault father doesn’t like him,” she grunted.

I giggled.

Jasper and Sophie were relatively newly mated. She found him a year after her first heat, which was considered quite rare in the Lycan world. Belvedere was a perfectionist, only seeking approval from Jasper if he could out-best him in three trials: a trial of strength, determination, and intellect.

Poor Jasper had barely turned 21, and his mate’s father was asking him to compete against a 173-year-old Lycan; it was unfair if you ask me.

“Where is Jasper?” I asked.

“He had to leave for his birth pack; it’s one of his friend’s birthdays, and he couldn’t miss it. He wanted to say goodbye,” Sophie replied.

“You should have gone with him,” I added.

“And miss your final breakfast,” she scoffed, “No way!

“I wanted to ask…” she began, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I would love to travel around the world with you!”

“I’m sure,” I smiled. “You would miss Jasper too much, and besides, I think this is something I have to do alone.”

Sophie took my hand in her own before giving me a gentle squeeze, “I understand. Just be safe out there.”

***

The rest of the morning skated by. I gave my final hugs and farewells before finally clutching my weighty backpack strap and exiting the gates to my home.

I glanced back, watching all the emotions on my loved one’s faces, until one thing caught my eye…

My father…

He seemed calm… too calm.

He was up to something, but what… I don’t know.

It seemed futile. I would eventually find out what it was. I was his daughter, after all.

Cassius

This year would make it 140 years without him by my side. 140 years since that bitch of a White Witch cursed him and forced him to shut off his humanity.

Her name, I discovered, was Lilian Evergreen. She was 288 years old, making her one of the eldest White Witches to have survived this long.

Lilian had fled the confines of her safe haven and vanished into hiding the second Conri and Lovetta Lycaeus had visited her and retrieved the Obsidian stone.

A stone that I soon found to be a useless mass of rock.

It was just another snare in her relentless game; a torment.

I had been doing everything in my power to bring my brother back, but every time I was mere moments away from a breakthrough, everything would shatter as easily as a slab of ice would if thrown against stone concrete.

“What do you have, Seamus? It better be worthwhile,” I said, growing more impatient with every year that passed as my brother wreaked havoc in the world without his emotions.

Seamus was a loyal warlock and one of the few I trusted. He would track and keep tabs on my brother.

“He has suddenly disappeared. There is no trace left to follow; he doesn’t want to be found, Master.”

I scoffed.

My brother may be emotionless, an empty, walking barrel of unfeeling bones and muscle, but he was no fool.

Just as I could manipulate shadows and darkness, my brother had his own set of master skills. He could manipulate and control anyone he so desired. The length of time, or the extent to which he could, varies, depending on the target’s mental resolve and power.

“I am the only one who is capable of bringing him home. He most likely controlled the minds of those he had seen by making them believe he was nothing but a measly commoner.

“Or he killed them.”

“How would you like us to approach this?” Seamus asked.

“Keep doing what you’re doing; just expand the search. The second there is a glimpse of him, I need to be contacted immediately.”

“Of course,” Seamus concluded before leaving me and my thoughts alone.

Mikeal

Blood lust.

Violence.

Sex.

Danger.

Thrill.

Nothing satisfied me anymore.

Nothing gratified my blackened heart.

Not even the need to seek revenge on the White Witch who cursed me in the first place.

In a way, I wanted to thank her. She gave me the power of ultimate freedom to live with no remorse, no regret.

My kind, along with every other species, feared me—the soulless royal vampire who had turned rogue.

My brother wormed his way into my mind occasionally, but whenever he did, it didn’t take long for me to realise that the brotherly bond we once shared meant nothing to me now.

His minions had tried to seek me out and were close to doing so a few times, but I always managed to escape without struggle. It was laughable how simple it seemed, like a never-ending game, the only source of my amusement.

I craved the terror I inspired in every living being. They regarded me as if I were the embodiment of evil, fearing that they might be my next unsuspecting victim, condemned to be dragged down to the pits of hell.

I downed another burning amber liquid before slamming my glass down on the table and giving the bartender swift eyes to deliver another.

He did so, his Adam’s apple bobbing anxiously up and down his throat.

But for some unbeknownst reason, a particular conversation kept drumming through my head on an insistent, nauseating repetition as of late…

The last thing the White Witch articulated before she cursed me…

She told me my mate was still out there, and when she found me…

All hell would break lose.