Moon Bound

3. Ryder

At Amos and Marissa’s insistence, I bring some of the pack.

“I don’t want any of them to be injured.”

“But they could capture you. You must bring an army,” Amo insists.

“An army will be viewed as a threat.”

“Not having them will be just as bad,” Marissa points out.

After much back and forth, I, along with Mia and Lucas who run flank, and Mark and Evan behind us, travelled through an entire province, finally making it to the coven’s area in the early evening.

With the help of an internet café and Evan’s incredible and random knowledge of computers, the coven received a courtesy email. They meet us or we find them. No isn’t a viable option, but their willingness to meet has my hackles raised regardless. I expected blowback, and so far, this is going too easy.

We shift as one, dress, and they gather around me, awaiting instructions.

I focus my gaze on Evan, nudging my chin toward the bag he had strapped to his back for the run. “You got it?”

He nods, pulling the cuffs out.

Mark whistles low. “Kinky.”

A growl climbs my throat and I give him a dark look. “It’s not the time for games. You know what to do.”

In unison, the pack nods, preparing for the plan we came up with this morning. Lucas will act as alpha in my stead, while I sneak around to the other side and capture one of their own. I’m doubtful this coven will hand over magic freely, but if one of them is in danger, they may. Witches are notoriously protective of their own kind.

The cuffs are to help contain their hands, ensuring whoever I take doesn’t blast my ass across the forest. Speed, surprise, and agility will be important here.

They stride past me. Evan and Mia both throw gentle smiles my way. Mark’s stare remains through the trees, where I can smell the gathering of people. Of them.

My hands fist by my side. Almost there, Father.

Mark remains focused, his body tense against the possibility of what’ll happen. Lucas claps me on the shoulder as he strides by me, also getting into place.

I wait until they break the treeline, bending to see between the trunks. A small group. Less than a dozen, but still double what we have here. An older lady, no doubt their leader, steps forward as Lucas lines up with her. As much as I want to watch, my eyes skip over each of the witches, analyzing each one individually. Most are older adults, which means they’re strong magically, I’m sure. I take a step to the right, continuing my scan until I find one.

Perfect. My lips curl in a grin.

Small and young, seemingly not much older than a child. Black hair falls to her waist. My stomach curls with disgust at myself—I’m about to capture a child.

She’s still a witch.

The voice in my head echoes with reason and I straighten, my hand tightening around the cuffs I’m holding. She’s a child, but nothing I’m about to do will harm her. If anything, she’ll be my four-leaf clover—lucky—because the coven will obviously want her back.

My only barrier will be the guy beside her. He stands, angled in a way that seems like he’s protecting her. A brother? She’s too young for a mate, I think, but then, what do I really know about witches’ practices? Either way, she’s their youngest and likely the one they’d most want to protect.

My nostrils flare and my eyes begin their shift, pinning her down as my prey. I continue my path, stripping my shirt as I proceed, while my attention remains solely on her. She’s the rabbit to my wolf—my kill—and all my senses attune to her. To the way her eyes scan my pack, her chest barely rises with her calm breaths; the way she doesn’t pay attention to the wolf nearby about to capture her.

The guy beside her goes fuzzy in my vision and no one else in the field matters. The woods around me silence, until I hear nothing but the sound of my focused breathing.

A low whistle stops me in my tracks and a feminine voice soon follows. “Boy, you’re hotter than the last male I dealt with, but don’t tell him. Vampires have horrible tempers.”

I still, suddenly feeling like I’m the prey and twist. Muscles under my skin twitch with the desire to shift and protect myself but a feeling I can’t place has me pausing. Wary, but not dangerous, and I turn to find a small woman in front of me.

She was not there the moment before and my hackles rise, a growl building low in my chest.

The woman is petite as hell. Her head tilts to the side, while her mouth bends into an amused smirk. Long hair falls to her waist and she’s draped in a gold cloak of some sort. Witch.

Immediately instinct wins over and I shift into a crouch, lowering to the ground. My muscles tremor, a shift coming on.

Her hand lifts and before I can attack or move out of the way, her fingers sweep the air by her, a white glow trailing behind. At the same instance, the trembling stops.

I take a step forward—going nowhere.

My fingers wiggle. Nothing.

In fact, I can’t move.

“There,” she says, her arms crossing against her chest. “I needed you to stop trying to attack me, because you won’t get far. Secondly, we don’t have time to do the whole who-are-you-what-do-you-want thing back and forth. And so,” she gestures to herself, “I am Mary, First Witch. Essentially, I’m the original creation. Millenia old, that kind of thing. Here to act on the Goddess’s behalf and specifically here to help you today.”

“Wh—”

“Told you, we don’t have time for you to speak today,” she interrupts, waving her hand toward me. The cuffs in my hands warm and my eyes flick down, barely catching the metal flashing red for a moment.

“Those are now spelled. They will help keep her magic at bay.”

A million questions fly through my head, and I have no idea where to start. Is she telling the truth, and if she is, why is she helping me? Is this a distraction of some sort, so the coven can attack the pack? I try to twist my head, but the invisible binds block me from looking.

This witch—Mary—glances past my shoulder. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she says, “We don’t have much more time. The ideal time for you to take her is in the next two minutes, so we need to make this quick.” Her fingers snap, gesturing to the cuffs in my hand. “As long as she has those on, she’s powerless. I’m not helping them, so don’t think I am. Totally team wolfy for the moment. Why? Because. Accept that answer and move on. Don’t be annoying like a certain vampire I know.”

Her words pass by me at a million miles a second and I fight to keep up.

“If you don’t believe me, your plan will fail,” she continues, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “Simple. You’ll be using the cuffs anyway, so what’s the harm in believing me? And… go!” With her final word, her fingers snap again and my body regains movement. The witch disappears at the same time, a small cloud of snoke left behind in her absence.

What in all the moons was that about? I glance at the cuffs in my grasp. Are they truly spelled to withhold a witch’s magic? If so, these have become highly valuable, but the strange witch is right—there’s no time to question it.

I finish stripping, leave my clothing in a pile and let the shift rule me. My entire body stings, welcoming the familiar tremor. I drop onto wolf legs, skin tingling with the quick hair growth. Within seconds, I’m looking through wolf eyes and am much closer to the ground.

I clasp the handcuffs in my mouth and take off, a blur through the small patch of trees until I break into the clearing. No one’s paying me any attention since everyone’s focus remains on Lucas. The duo remains unaware; the girl’s gaze locked on the pack.

Using the strength in my wolf’s legs, I make it to her side, pushing between her and the guy. My sheer weight alone makes him trip out of the way and I sink my teeth into her shirt and tug her away. Once I get her a few feet away from the guy, I shift, my arms immediately going around her waist to keep her steady.

I have the cuffs halfway on her wrist when her eyes flit to mine and for moment, I freeze under the weight of her glare. Because she’s not a child at all. She’s pure woman and my skin warms with embarrassment—or discomfort, not sure which—that I hadn’t noticed her obvious curves earlier.

She has a slim model figure and hips sitting wide under my palms. Her long black hair cascades down her back, the ends of it brushing my hands where they rest. The strands frame a soft, round face, a button nose, and the deepest eyes I’ve ever seen. Wariness is speckled against the warm, brown colour. They’re only eyes, but for a moment, just one single second, I stop what I’m doing—frozen in the midst of clasping her hands in the cuffs—and stare, breath bated. She’s sexy as all hell and my d**k twitches.

The body coming from the side yanks me back to the moment and I twirl, bringing her with me to avoid the blowback of the guy beside her. At the same time, I clasp the cuffs around her, ignoring her feeble attempt at yanking them away from my tightened grip. The guy—her mate I suppose, being it’s a real possibility now—drops to the ground beside me, his hands glowing white as he leaps to his feet.

I spin again, bringing her against my naked front. One arm goes against her waist, holding her firm, the other against the column of her throat. It moves with her obvious nervous swallow, and stops the guy’s movements.

In my peripheral, I spot Lucas taking a step to the right, toward me. I jerk my chin, narrowed eyes landing on every member of the coven. Most appear concerned, their eyes wide. One woman has her hand clasped to her mouth and the scent of fear drifts from her. I focus my attention on the old woman, clearly their leader, who doesn’t seem scared nor surprised. Instead, the skin around her eyes crinkle as they narrow.

“Do what he says,” I say loudly, gesturing toward Lucas.

The jingling of the chains and the distinct grunt of frustration has me glancing down. Her open palms tell me she’s, indeed, attempting magic. Whoever the strange witch truly was, and whatever her reasons were for helping me, they’re appreciated now.

“Stop it,” I whisper softly in her ear. “You won’t be able to get out of them.” The scent of cinnamon fills my head, but I push the aroma away, forcing myself to focus on the moment.

“Do whatever he says,” I repeat, dragging my attention back to the leader, “or she dies.”

The girl’s gasp couldn’t be better timed. Her attempt to rid herself from my arms is weak at best, but the entire coven moves as one, coming closer. Expressions of shock shift into anger.

But still nothing from the old woman. Instead, her head tilts to the side, studying me. I glance around at the witches, determining who’ll be my main threat. The guy who jumped at me remains nearby, his gaze fixated past my shoulder.

No one is reacting and dread sits heavy on my heart. Their unusual responses are worrisome, and glancing at Lucas’s furrowed expression, he’s thinking the same.

Finally, the old woman breaks rank and walks slowly to me, her steps seemingly careful as she nears. My grip tightens on the girl and Lucas steps forward, moving the pack closer.

“Alpha, I assume?” The line of her mouth lifts into an amused smirk. This is funny to her? “What made you stupid enough to think you could take on a coven and succeed?”

My teeth bare. This is the moment I win. This is the moment we help Father. “Leverage. I need magic—a potion, something—to restore shifting abilities.”

Her brows rise, surprise sketched plainly on her face. Clearly, Lucas hadn’t gotten to that part. “Interesting dilemma. Do tell how this came to be.”

Debate rolls heavy in my mouth. If I mention Fortuna at all, this gets more complicated, as it’ll come down to this girl’s life and loyalty to their own kind. If I don’t, they won’t have a reason to give me magic at all.

So, swallowing my own fears, I say, “My father made a deal with the Fortuna coven some years ago and his wolf form was the price he paid. Now h-he’s,” I swallow, berating myself for choking up at all, “dying. I need magic to return his shifting ability to him.” I pause, scanning the various faces in front of me, seeking any c***k in their foundation. “It’ll save his life.”

“No.” The old woman wastes no time in her decision and my hand tightens on the girl’s neck. Her abrupt, scared gasp fills the silence left behind by the witch’s single word. She’s leverage and I truly don’t wish to hurt her—it’s not who I am—but it’s what may need to happen.

“It’ll only take for me to tighten my hold.”

“If Fortuna wants you dead, why would we help you? We have nothing to gain from this agreement. Now, let my granddaughter go.”

Granddaughter. My eyes flick to Lucas and we share the same expression of thrill. My captive isn’t just any witch in this coven; she’s the leader’s own family. I’m sorry, girl, but she made it too easy.

“You gain an ally. How’s a pet wolf sound to you?”

The weight of Lucas’s anger pounds into my side, but I ignore him and appeal to the leader in her. Alpha to alpha. Alphas will protect their own. The hand I have on the girl’s waist comes up and wraps around her head. With my other arm in place, she’s in the perfect position to snap—

Her gasp shoots discomfort down my spine and I release her head. With every inch of her body I free, the pack’s unspoken question replaces the space between us. I thought I could do this, kill for Father’s life, but killing her and walking away with nothing is no different than keeping her alive and walking away with nothing.

Her head twists to glance at me, and I flick my gaze down to her, despising the blatant fear I find in her expression. Every bit of it she tosses at me lumps together and forms in my throat. My arm around her neck loosens and with the eased muscles, my plan is tossed out the window.

I swallow around the lump in my throat, glancing at the pack. They’re relying on me to see this through… but killing her isn’t the answer. Even in Father’s name, I can’t. Not an innocent.

“She’ll come with us then. Her life in exchange for the magic. You have three days to deliver it.”

Fury lands on the old witch’s expression. Her body vibrates, arms quivering by her side, and with each passing second, the glow in her hand deepens. I step back, bringing my prisoner with me, glancing over at the pack. Their eyes bounce between me and the witch. Mia lowers into a crouch, and I know she’s getting ready to shift.

We’ll have to fight an entire coven, and I’m not sure we’ll win. f**k, f**k, f**k, it wasn’t supposed to go this far.

But then something interesting happens. Something that changes everything for me, long before I even realize it myself.

The old witch swings her gaze to the right and I follow it toward the guy, still standing nearby. His relaxed posture contradicts everyone else in the clearing, but his gaze remains steady on the old woman.

She blinks, turning her head back to me, and what I see has the knot in my throat growing and sliding down my chest and into the depths of my stomach. Because it’s an emotion I’m not sure what to do with.

Acceptance.

“Fine. Take her then.”