Moonbound

Chapter Five

The sun had burned through most of the morning fog by the time we arrived at the estate, but my chest still felt heavy. Almost instantly, Thorn and his lieutenant vanished down the main hall, their voices clipped and low.

No one told me to stay in my room. I didn't hear much from anyone.

A revolving drift of pack members who went by silently took the place of the guards who had been following me since last night. Some gave me the quick, scathing glance that people give you when they think you won't notice, as if they were attempting to determine whether I was a threat or prey.

Alright. Let them ponder.

I walked down the hall, running my fingers along the panelling made of carved wood.

Beneath it, the air was heavy with smoke, cedar, and something wilder, and the place was a labyrinth of heavy doors and narrow corridors.

Prior to noticing the change in the floor, I had no idea where I was going. The polished wood gave way to cold stone under my bare feet, the corridor narrowing until it ended at a single door, darker than the others, its surface carved with a symbol — a crescent moon encircling a wolf’s head.

I should not have attempted to use the handle. Still, it opened.

The light from the high, narrow windows was the only source of light in the dim room beyond.

Books and scrolls that reeked of dust and age were piled high on shelves that ran the length of the walls. There was a long table in the middle, with notes in an unfamiliar hand, maps of the area, and a folded piece of pale silk.

Before I even touched my stomach, it became constricted. That fabric was familiar to me. Pale as moonlight and fraying at the edges, it was a scarf my sister had worn since we were teenagers, and I had seen it on her a hundred times.

It is not supposed to be here.

The scarf was wrapped around something small and heavy. I uncurled the fabric slowly, revealing a pendant — a thin disc of dark metal etched with the same crescent moon I’d seen outside in the mud this morning.

The moment my fingers brushed it, the air in the room shifted.

Not colder — denser.

A flash of silver eyes burned across my vision, gone as soon as I blinked. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Behind me, a floorboard creaked.

I instinctively threw the scarf and pendant behind me as I spun around. In the doorway stood a man. Not Thorn. He was taller, leaner, with short, pale blond hair and eyes that were an unusual amber colour that made my skin crawl.

His gaze pinned me, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he leaned casually against the frame.

He said, "You shouldn't be in here." His voice had a slight edge that reminded me of teeth behind a smile, but it was smooth and almost pleasant.

I forced my tone to remain even as I said, "I got lost."

He glanced at the table and then back at me. “It's funny. The majority of lost persons do not wind up in the Alpha's personal records. private records.”

That clarified the dust, the maps, and the door lock I had anticipated. With my hands tucked behind me, I stepped towards him. “Then maybe you should put a sign up.”

His laughter was quiet and low, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You possess spirit. How long will that last, I wonder?”

He moved, obstructing more of the entrance. "What did you discover?"

"Nothing," I blurted out. Too soon. His eyes grew piercing, darting to my hands. He moved forward quickly before I could react, and all of a sudden, he was too close to my height.

He whispered, "I smell the metal." "Old blood." You ought to exercise caution when dealing with such matters.

Another shadow appeared in the doorway before I could respond. Thorn. His gaze shifted from me to the blond wolf, and whatever was in his eyes caused the other man to straighten and take a step back.

Thorn's voice was like a thunderclap as he said, "Out." The blond gave a mocking little bow.

"Alpha, of course." Without saying another word, he brushed past Thorn, but as he went, I could feel his eyes linger on me.

Thorn's gaze was fixed on me as the door closed. "Why did you enter here?"

I gripped the scarf tighter behind me. "I was straying. The door stood open.”

After passing me to the table, Thorn's eyes lingered on the maps and the strewn-about scrolls before returning to me. "And?" I paused.

I had to acknowledge that I had probably touched something I shouldn't have when I showed him the scarf. I had to put my own intuition ahead of his in order to hide it.

I eventually uncurled my fingers just enough to let him see the pale silk's edge. “It was present. I recognised it.”

He squinted his eyes. "How did you recognise it?" "It belongs to my sister," I muttered.

For a moment, something unreadable flickered across his face — surprise, maybe even recognition — but it was gone so fast I couldn’t be sure.

“Put it back,” he said finally, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And stay out of this room.”

I wanted to ask why it was here, how it got here, but his tone told me I’d get no answers. Not yet.

Still, as I set the scarf down, the pendant’s cool weight pressing into my palm one last time, a single thought burned in my mind:

Selene had been here.

And she hadn’t come alone.