Homecoming Luna

Chapter 10: Starry Night

• •• •••UNREVEALED POV••• •• •

Back At Avarion Mountain Pack

On this ashen night, I move with the wintry air and the billion stars scattered across the vast passing cloud of blackness, who's witnessed countless life-changing moments just the same, watch as I do.

Feet barely touching the ground, I come up behind the dark figure that is a guard; big, buff, shaved head glinting in the moonlight. And well trained, judging by a lot of things. The fucker just so happens to be unlucky and not as good, in addition to having s**t instinct.

As a strong shadow against his own dark form, I ease him to the ground as he falls without even making a sound, never even aware.

I could have as easily snuffed out his life but alerted attention in the form of bodies discovered days or weeks later is the last thing I want, especially since coming back is in the books.

Listening hard and hearing nothing, I advance. My eyes see many steps at a time. I become one with the shadows of the building I creep past as I make my way past the brush of greenery and houses, heading for the prominent one at the very end of the line.

Breaths even and barely there, I come to stand before a door. Then, I listen hard.

My eyes glow in the dark. Almost as if on high alert, but waiting. Bidding my time just right. Feeling safe in the tranquility of the night. Listening to the steady rhythm of my heart and to the other hearts beyond the door. I give it a couple more seconds as if to be sure that whatever it is has kicked in, enough to induce a deeper slumber in my mark and all who inhabit the house .

I make a fast work of the door and creep my way through to the doorways to my left, thankful for the shroud of greyness. On soundlessly working the bedroom door open, the strong stench of s*x hits my nose, permeating the balaclava mask I've got on.

A nanosecond is what it takes my eyes to adjust to the darkness streaked with only a sliver of moonlight. I come to watch the dark lump in the bed as he f*****g sleeps. The Alpha of this pack—Kinser—snoring away like all is well with his world. Beside him, tangled limbs and hair, are three women.

Act of war or not, wouldn't I enjoy to watch him deflate like a punctured balloon as life shimmies out of him? Bless hell with whatever's left of his sorry ass soul?

Wouldn't I want that?

The impulse is there, roaring but I curb it. The devil could lose a lot of pawns on my watch but this pawn right here will, unfortunately, live to see the next day. I've come to take and as well, leave something behind. And his life didn't make the list tonight.

So I steal.

Yet, I wouldn't call myself a hitman. Or a thief, ethical or not. I don't do what I do for cold greed. But how I would love to be the curse onto the likes of him.

Muted steps, I approach the jewelry chest exactly where my informant said it'll be. I finger the jewelry, expensive ass shits and try not to let them clink as they kiss each other. Nothing like getting careless on the job.

There's brooches, rings, all blings of good significance. And a necklace. My gloved hand stills as it touches the necklace. I lift it. A string of crystals adorn it. It's shiny and heavy of its pendant. My breath holds at the sight of the signet it boldly bears.

There's a bite of frost to my thoughts as I palm the necklace. A bite of frost even as my face split a grin.

The colour changes as I turn it in the light of moon filtering in through the slightly parted curtains.

In that suspended moment, a coldness seeps into me. An alert that I have company. Incoming and not as graceful as I've been. I have but minutes to make myself scarce.

Light on my feet but fast, I go through the practiced motion of taking what I've come for. Nothing my little satchel can't carry. I'm in a state of near panic when I find all but the one thing that has brought me. In my last desperate attempt, I go into the adjoining bathroom and riffle through shits, looking for an alternative.

I hear the footsteps get closer then hasten up. Then the next second, I hear nothing of it.

Wait, something is wrong!

And just as I think that, everything stops dead. The wind current outside. A flowing river far away. Pain radiates through my gloved hands to my spine and there is suddenly a putrid smell I cannot place. Every one of my muscles contract with the fumes. s**t. My traps. My first thoughts are my traps have just caught a vile creature of some sort, given it's the dead of the night, it is the most likely guess.

What business could Avarion possibly have with Hybrids? And why so strong and this close?

I spin around on my heels, making a dash for the door where I flatten myself against the wall nearest to it. I hear nothing even as I limit my intake of oxygen. But I pull out my knife regardless, palming the cold steel of my double-edged blade. The company, the smell, the abrupt stop, everything is a surprise and I hate surprises, not even well-intended ones.

At this point, if a body comes through that door let it be known that I tried my best to keep my blade unbloodied.

One of the figures on the bed stirs, then snores away. Damn lucky one. It's in their best interest to remain asleep. Or my blade will be left no choice but to put them into the deepest sleep.

There's a delicious moment where I almost pray for someone to come through the door. Or wake up. Give me a reason to justify however way I choose to drop them.

But no, heavy seconds pass and none of that happens.

When I've ascertained I wouldn't be getting my prayers answered, I lower my poised blade but keep it unsheathed. Stubborn, I go back into the bathroom until I find what I'm looking for.

Sentimental bullshits are not me but casting a look at the oblivious figure in the huge bed who's center of the tangled mass, I wish him a long life. A long, long life of depravity.

In measured footsteps and just like I've come, I flee the room, skirt around the buildings and disappear into the night.

But before that, I go around and wake my little guard friends. More than a handful of them. Seventeen to be exact.

If they ever happen to have breakfast together, they'll be too bashful to share tales of how they'd dozed off on duty. Though it's doubtful that they would. No one would make a big deal of mere minutes of much needed shut eye. It's only human nature. Wolf nature too. s**t like that happens.

As for the black splatter of foul blood I'd gone to great lengths to mask, they'll probably think all sorts of Goddesses were working the ropes in their favour.

But if they are smart, they'll question their Alpha, find out what rotten deal he's got cooking that will get a lone Hybrid to successfully breech their barriers. And this easily.