Marked by the Moon, Bound by Blood

Chapter 8

"Anderson! Wake up! Don't you dare close your eyes!" I screamed in a total panic.

I dropped to the freezing floor right next to his massive frame. Blood was still seeping out of the stab wound in his back, soaking his black shirt until it felt heavy and sodden.

I tried to put pressure on the wound with both hands, but the blood just kept leaking through the gaps in my fingers. The red liquid felt incredibly warm, such a sharp contrast to my own skin, which was turning ice-cold from fear.

"Ugh... Misha... run..." Anderson managed to mutter, his voice barely a whisper.

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" I snapped back, even as tears started to blur my vision.

How could an Alpha this powerful be lying here completely helpless? He said he could heal himself, but the wound was still wide open. I remembered what he said earlier—he’d used every bit of his energy just to hold back my unstable power blast. Technically, I was the reason he couldn't regenerate.

Thump.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Suddenly, that horrific thirst was back. But this time, it wasn't just a craving for water; it was a wild, primal urge to taste the blood on my hands. The masculine, heavy scent of Anderson’s blood filled my nose.

"Hah... hah..." my breathing started to get ragged.

I stared at my crimson hands. My mind was starting to fray. A part of me felt starving, like every cell in my body was screaming to be fed. My eyes started to burn again. I could literally see the flow of energy inside Anderson’s wound, and it was fading fast.

"Damn it... why now?" I muttered, clutching my head.

I tried to fight the impulse. I’m not a predator. I’m human. I’m Misha, a college student, not some blood-sucking monster. But the heat crawling from the mark on my neck was slowly killing off my common sense. I was losing control of my own body.

"Misha... your eyes..." Anderson looked at me with pure horror.

I couldn't even answer. I crawled closer to his neck. My hands, which had been stiff with fear, were now moving with the fluid grace of a cat stalking its prey. My claws extended again—sharp, black talons ready to rip through anything.

"Blood... just a little..." I whispered without even realizing it.

I leaned my face toward the wound on his shoulder. I could feel the hum of his remaining energy there. Just as my tongue was about to touch the wound, the sound of the footsteps I’d heard earlier reached the cabin door.

Brak!

The door was kicked wide open. Wilfredo stormed in with several pack warriors carrying bright torches. They froze at the sight inside the shack: Anderson covered in blood, and me crawling over him with those terrifying black claws.

"Get off our Alpha, monster!" one of the warriors yelled.

He lunged at me with a silver-tipped spear. My reflexes were suddenly lightning-fast. I leaped backward and landed on the wooden table in a crouched position that was definitely not natural for a human. A low growl vibrated in my throat.

Grrrrr.

"Misha, snap out of it!" Wilfredo’s voice boomed with authority, but I could hear the sharp edge of anxiety in it.

I glared at Wilfredo. His face looked like a red blur in my vision. I wanted to attack him. I wanted to crush anyone who dared to get in my way. The predatory instinct in me was totally dominant now. I felt incredibly strong, fast, and dangerous.

"She’s lost control! Finish her before she kills the Alpha!" another warrior shouted.

Three warriors moved in at once. I leaped from the table to the wall, then bounced off it and lunged at one of them. I slashed his arm, shredding his shirt and peeling back the skin. The man screamed in pain.

"She’s too fast!" he grunted, clutching his arm.

I didn't stop there. I felt like I was dancing in the middle of all this chaos. My mind was a total blank; there was only the instinct to survive and strike. I didn't think about consequences. There was only hunger and a boiling rage.

"Stop!" Wilfredo pulled out a small vial of silver liquid and hurled it at me.

The vial shattered right at my feet. A gray smoke erupted, and the stinging scent of sulfur filled the room. I started coughing, my eyes burning like crazy. My strength felt like it was being sucked right out of me.

"Argh! It burns!" I tumbled off the wooden cabinet where I’d been perched.

I rolled on the floor, trying to get the sting out of my eyes. The purple light in my veins faded fast. My claws retracted, leaving a stinging sensation at my fingertips. My consciousness started to drift back, bit by bit.

"Grab her! Chain her hands with silver!" Wilfredo ordered.

Two warriors immediately pinned my limp body down and wrapped cold chains around my wrists. The moment the silver hit my skin, it felt like being branded by a hot iron.

"It hurts... let me go..." I whimpered.

I looked over at Anderson. A few people were busy tending to his wound. Wilfredo knelt beside him and whispered something. Anderson slowly opened his eyes and looked at me as I was being forced to my knees on the floor.

"Wilfredo... don't hurt her..." Anderson’s voice was incredibly raspy.

"She almost killed you and just mauled our warriors, Anderson! She isn't human and she isn't a werewolf! She’s a wild predator!" Wilfredo snapped back firmly.

I hung my head. I felt so much shame and terror. What did I just do? I almost killed someone without even knowing it. Is there really a monster living inside me?

"Take her to the isolation cell at the main base. No one gets near her without my permission," Wilfredo said.

"Wait! I didn't mean to do that!" I tried to struggle, but the silver chains made me feel like all my strength had been drained.