The Flight of the Coveted Luna : The Scion Book 2

Chapter 1

Eva/ Aoife (Pronounced Eefa)

The rich dark scent of coffee tickled my nostrils as I sat in the corner of the quiet cafe, staring into space, my mind racing a mile a minute. I was running out of time. I knew by the pointed looks my mother kept giving me, and the way my father kept grumbling under his breath every time he met my eyes. They would choose for me soon.

The cafe was empty; the lunch rush had passed quite some time ago, and most were already home, about to have dinner. The place was quaint, the furnishings plain but modern and decorated with various types of plants, hanging and standing around. Usually, I enjoyed the atmosphere, but not even the soft, calming music could distract me from my anxious thoughts.

Twenty-two-year-old unmated she-wolves were practically unheard of, even ones as plain as me. It wasn’t exactly my fault that I hadn’t met my mate by nineteen like most other she-wolves. That was what fate had handed me. Still, I couldn’t picture settling for someone I didn’t want to be with, someone my parents had chosen for me.

“We need to wait for our mate,” Niamh (pronounced Neev), my wolf, growled in my mind. “I will not accept anyone else.”

Niamh was an average wolf, not as weak as an omega, but not as strong as a warrior either and weaker than both of my parents. She was, however, gorgeous, the only known wolf with shiny, soft blonde hair. Usually easy-going and happy, the only thing that riled her was the idea of being forced to choose a mate. That was one thing we had in common.

‘I know, Niamh. I don’t want anyone else either, but I don’t know how to deal with them,” I mumbled.

My stomach turned; I didn’t want to be controlled and manipulated anymore. The thought of trading my domineering parents for a controlling chosen mate made the bile rise to my throat, and my eyes burn. I’d just be swapping one prison for another.

That just couldn’t be my life. I wanted my fated mate, the gift of the Moon Goddess. My soul mate would see me; he would value and treasure me and care about what I wanted. He was my only hope; he would be my freedom.

I blinked, the smell of coffee somehow settling my stomach. I lifted the cup and took a sip; it had cooled. How much time had passed? Nonetheless, the hint of bitterness eased my nerves, calming me. My shoulders slumped as I exhaled. Maybe I could somehow hold out; perhaps I could delay them a little longer. I had to think of something.

I sighed. No more procrastinating, I had to get to dinner on time; the last thing I wanted was to attract my mother’s displeasure. I didn’t want to give her any reason to hasten my departure from her house. I swallowed the last of my coffee in one gulp and left as quietly as I arrived.

The icy wind stung my eyes and took my breath away as I left the cozy heat of the cafe. It wouldn’t bother the stronger wolves, but I wasn’t strong or excellent at any particular thing. Even my looks were unremarkable, mousy brown hair that tangled no matter what I did, boring brown eyes and skin so fair that a bit of sun would render me red as a tomato. I was mediocre, just plain average… at everything.

“You are not mediocre or plain,” Niamh growled lowly, lifting her snout into the air. “Our time will come; have faith, Aoife.”

I nodded mentally. I’d heard her say that many times before; I just couldn’t believe it. When I pushed her to elaborate, she just shut down and wouldn’t say anything further. I couldn’t see it. Or I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hope, only to have it come crashing down, crushing me under the weight of disappointment.

The trees had lost their leaves early, signaling a brutal winter ahead. The sky was a drab gray, and even the green hills in the distance seemed muted, a typical Irish landscape. My thoughts drifted to the lake behind the shop. I was somehow always aware of any large bodies of water nearby, my intense fear never allowing me to ignore it.

I shuddered. The monster that plagued my dreams lived in large bodies of water. The Oilliphéist was a sea-serpent or dragon of sorts, well-known in Irish and Gaelic mythology, and some even thought the famous legend of the Loch-Ness monster was based on it.

To most, it was simply a mythical creature, but to me, it was my personal demon. As far back as I could remember, there wasn’t a single night it didn’t taunt me as soon as I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep. Some nights it hunted me as I floundered in a lake or the ocean, others it just watched, and on the truly terrifying nights, it caught me. I’d wake, gasping and covered in sweat as it squeezed the life out of me. I had lost count of how many times I had died in my dreams a long time ago.

“Hmmph,” Niamh huffed. It was a touchy subject to her because, somehow, she was never there. In those dreams, she wasn’t there to help. She never experienced the dreams either and only knew about them because I had told her.

Other than her, my parents knew about the dreams, but I’d stopped telling them about it when I was a teen. Then Ciara, my best, and only, friend was the one other person who knew. We’d grown up together and she’d experienced my night terrors first hand. I was so embarrassed but she swore to keep my secret and kept her promise despite the growing distance between us. She’d found her mate at eighteen and every year I remained unmated became more awkward.

I zipped up my coat and wrapped my scarf a little tighter, walking home grudgingly, willing myself to put one foot in front of the other and stifling the urge to run the other way. A hand shot out of the alley as I passed, grabbing my arm and yanking me into it. I gasped as I saw who it was, taking in a large gulp of rancid air courtesy of the overflowing trashcan next to us.

Brin was the current Alpha and the only other unmated wolf older than nineteen in our pack. At least he was older than me, just slightly. He grabbed me by the waist and backed me up to the wall, squeezing my jaw, his large frame blocking all movement. I gritted my teeth as my jaw started aching. His eyes narrowed as his breath fanned my face.

“It’s time, Eva,” he said, his eyes serious. My brows furrowed.

Niamh growled ferociously in my mind, pacing and stomping but we didn’t stand much of a chance against an Alpha.

“Time for what?” I blurted, for once keeping eye contact despite the pain of his grip.

Usually, I didn’t have much to do with the Alpha; usually, I just kept my head down and blended in as much as possible. I had watched uncaring from the sidelines as, year after year, young girls who finally got their wolves threw themselves at him, hoping to be his fated mate. Some didn’t care if they weren’t and pursued him anyway.

Sometimes he had a fling or two with the more beautiful ones, but he often just turned them down flat. I didn’t understand his sudden interest in me; many more attractive she-wolves would happily be his next conquest. I was only interested in my mate and noone else.

“Yes, let him take one of those who want him. We do not want him; we must wait for our mate,” Niamh barked in my mind.

His jaw tightened, as did his hands on me. I was sure they would leave bruises.

“Stop playing around, Aoife. You and I are the only unmated pack members of our age. We should be together,” he said, not a hint of a joke. My heart started racing. “I’ve been watching you. With some more… polishing, you will make a good Luna.”

Niamh roared in my mind, pushing to take over and fight him.

A chill ran down my spine, and I stifled the urge to shudder violently and puke in his face. I didn’t want to be the Luna; I couldn’t think of anything worse than being mated to him. I didn’t care that I was still unmated, but everyone else did.

Brin was exceedingly handsome, every girl’s dream. His long blonde hair always covered one eye, the other an even brighter green for it. I was tall and slim, but he was a full head taller than me, and he was powerful, his body rigid with bulging muscles. As the Alpha, he was rich too. Despite all that, I didn’t like him, couldn’t even stand being around him. Everything about him felt suffocating.

He treated all women like dumb accessories, their sole purpose to cater to his needs. I couldn’t stand not being seen, and it was never more blatant than in his presence. He looked into my eyes and came closer, glancing at my lips.

“There are plenty she-wolves who would love to be Luna. Choose someone from a different pack. I am not your mate, and I will never be,” Niamh and I spat at him in unison, surprising even myself as we pushed him away. He hadn’t expected that, or I would never have been able to move him out of my way.

My chest tightened, breathing became harder, and I turned, rushing back to the road before the panic set in completely, and then I wouldn’t be able to move.

Cold laughter rang out and stopped me in my tracks. I didn’t turn to look at him.

“We’ll see about that, Aoife. It’s amusing that you think you have a choice,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear, his tone determined. It was a promise.

I started walking again, quickly gaining speed and rushing home.

What did he mean? I felt the noose tightening. What had he done? Niamh bristled, pacing angrily in my mind.

My legs turned the corner automatically, my shoes loud on the pavement and soon enough, the familiar blue door of my house was in front of me. My head was spinning; I was running out of time. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“We cannot be his mate,” Niamh said gravely. “We must not bend to his will, no matter what.”

I agreed. I needed to find a way to wait for my fated mate.

I sighed in relief as the warmth of the house took some of the chill from me, not all of it, though. Some of it hadn’t been caused by the frigid weather.

“Aoife,” my mother’s voice carried from the sitting room, and my stomach dropped. I knew that tone; she was going to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. “Aoife, come here. We need to talk.”