Moon Bound

4. Carina

When the pack emerged, I was enthralled. My mouth refused to stay closed and my eyes wouldn’t even blink. They didn’t shift, so they come across no different than regular humans, but they brought with them a sense of woodsy power. Even the sole female, though slim, appears like she could take a wrestler down. But it’s more than that; it’s the way they move as one. Their body language implies an unspoken tongue only they know, and I briefly wonder if they mentally communicate. It’s how shifters are often portrayed in the media anyway.

Of course, my interest in the pack took my attention away from my surroundings and the wolf that yanked me away from Jasper before my brain could catch up to what was happening. It all happened so quick. One second, I’m listening to a shifter’s speech, and the next, I’m taken by an incredibly naked mountain-sized man, handcuffs being attached to my wrists. I realized nearly right away, when my magic wouldn’t work, the cuffs were to blame.

While fear holds me firm, and I have no idea what this wolf is about to do to me, I force my nerves to remain steady and calm because, deep down, I don’t think he actually wants to hurt me. Even if the hand around my neck says otherwise—suggesting I’m dumb for believing so.

The wolf holding me is hot. All man, and there’s no denying my enjoyment of his hard, bare body behind my own. When his eyes met mine, I saw something deep inside. Compassion.

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

Wait, I’ll do what?

This is all over a bit of magic? All this trouble for half a second of our effort? It’s stupid, and my hardened gaze pinpointed on Grandma attempts to show her what I think of it all. Give him the magic and we can all go home. I don’t see the issue—don’t understand why Grandma hasn’t thrown a spell in a bottle and called it a day.

I open my mouth to make my own statement, but Grandma’s next words steal them as she casually tosses my life away.

“Fine. Take her then.”

Wait—what? I throw my head up so fast, I’m surprised I don’t hit my jailor in the process. Grandma’s eyes remain focused on the man behind me, and regardless of the plea I throw into my gaze, she doesn’t look at me.

Past her, Mom and my aunts wear identical expressions of shock. Their gazes remain pinned on Grandma, but like the sheep I know them to be, they won’t speak up. I continue scanning, finding Jasper who remains stoic, his expression a mask of what he’s feeling, so I can’t get a read on him.

For the first time since arriving today, my heart pounds with real fear. My breaths come out shorter, my body sagging against the hard one behind me. I must have misheard her, right?

“What?” His gruff voice is low and breathy—he didn’t expect that answer either.

Glad we’re on the same page.

“Keep her,” Grandma repeats in a blasé tone, as if she’s not making decisions on someone else’s life.

“Grandma.” I aim for strength, but nothing more than quiet confusion makes it to her. No force behind my words, merely weak shock.

A cry breaks through the thickened air from Mom, but no one does anything more. Not even her.

I’m alone. Somehow, I’ve always known this too. No one in this f****d-up coven, not even Mom, is doing anything about this. No one is going against Grandma because her word is law. They’ve deemed me unworthy to save in exchange for simple magic.

My sniffle matches Mom’s and I cry out, “Why? I’m family.”

Finally—finally—Grandma looks at me, but her gaze is empty. No concern. No compassion. Nothing. She’s written me off already, and just like that, I don’t matter.

I don’t matter.

All her family-this and family-that… and this is how we end. She’s exactly the person I thought her to be. Evil. Vile. Underhanded. When it came down to it, she chose the entire coven—chose another coven—over me. I know what this is about, and my gaze shifts to Jasper. It’s all about him. She is unsure of who she’ll be trying to stick me with, but she has her goal for him, and helping these wolves will not get her there. So instead, her response is to sacrifice me.

A sob builds in my chest, but I bite my lip, forcing it down. I will not cry in front of her, or these strangers.

These strangers you’re about to leave with.

In the midst of my muddled thoughts, one feeling breaks through. The sensation of the stranger’s thumb stroking my arm, back and forth, as if he’s trying to calm me. I force a deep breath through my lungs and find it oddly does exactly that.

A stranger is more comforting to me than my own grandmother.

Life dulls in that moment. The sun tucks itself behind clouds, leaving behind only gloom and the chill you get when there’s no sun. Pain rips at my chest, but still, I remain firm in my stance.

“Sacrifice is sometimes needed for the better of the coven.” Her eyes remain firm on me, and while she speaks loud enough so her voice can be heard by everyone, I know her words are only for my benefit.

My eyes slam shut and my head droops, finding myself unable to regard her a moment longer. For a second, I want these wolves to take me away since I’m clearly not wanted here.

Goddess, cruel trick. Time and time again, I’ve told myself how much I despise being a witch, but it’s unavoidable. I didn’t want coven life, but I also didn’t want to be tossed out like this. In the end, family is family and I love them.

Are they even family right now?

A single tear drips from the corner of my eye. The one that seemingly breaks apart from the determined focus I try to rein in my emotions. It drips down my cheek, leaving behind a chilled line, then drops from my chin. I watch it fall straight onto my captor’s arm. If he feels it, he shows no reaction.

The man’s grumble at my back returns me to the horrible scene laid out in front of me. “Last chance.”

But Grandma’s head is already shaking from side-to-side, and her eyes remain on mine when she says, “I’m sorry. Be well.”

Her words—her final words to me—break me. I feel the exact moment when it happens. My chest cracks in two, my heart shattering behind the bone. Its remnants sprinkle throughout my body, giving me the bit of extra strength I need to stand straighter. The man’s arm loosens, giving me the space. My clenched jaw loosens enough for me to spit out, “f**k you, Sybil.”

The use of her real name is worse than if I laid a curse on her. Grandma sees it as disrespect; as her granddaughter, I should only refer to her by her title and not her name.

She blinks once. “Do not return here, wolves. We don’t take kindly to shifters who demand things of us.”

“You have—”

Whatever he’s about to say is stolen by Mom’s sob as she lunges forward, falling onto her mother’s arm. Seems Mom finally remembered who she is to me. Her crying voice doesn’t carry far and I can’t hear what she says, but whatever it is has Grandma’s back stiffening. She bends, murmuring something into Mom’s ear before pushing her arm off her. One of my aunts stumbles forward, pulling Mom into her body and envelops her in her arms.

Just like that, it’s over. That pathetic show was Mom’s feeble attempt to reason with Grandma, to save me. Instead of the flash of anger I expect to feel, there’s nothing. Only blankness within.

“You have three days,” he says again, his voice echoing through the space.

At this point though, I wonder where his thoughts are at. He can use me all he wants, but it won’t change anything. Grandma is willing to let me them take me, so what makes him think she’ll change her mind and make the trade within three days?

She dips her head in polite acknowledgment and strides away. I’m numb, not even feeling my own body, as I watch her stalk into the trees, not once peeking back.

Other loyal family members follow her out. Some give a long goodbye look toward me before leaving, walking away at a slower pace. Mom blinks once, before throwing her head into her sister’s neck, and together they leave.

Like that, I no longer have a home. A family. Even a mother, apparently. I thought mothers were supposed to protect their children, but mine’s weak, and the evident product of whatever brainwashing Grandma used on her as a child.

The only person remaining is Jasper. His eyes meet mine, desolation sitting deep in their depths. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly and also turns away. His steps carry him away, and my heart snaps all over. For a long time, Jasper was my closest friend. Now, he’s nothing more than a stranger—casting me aside like the rest of them. Watching him leave is nearly more painful than watching Mom walk away.

And then I’m left alone with a pack of shifters who can literally do whatever they want with me; a fact I try not to focus on as the guy’s arms twist me around to face him.

His bare chest is the first thing in my view and I try not to think about how pleasing it is to the eyes. Try not to think about how I’m checking out my captor. My eyes lift after a long second, landing onto cold, narrowed, dark eyes. Angry. As if I decided how this would play out.

When I said he was hot, it’s an understatement of what he truly is. This man is the epitome of man, as if all good-looking guys in the world have blended together and spawned this one. Dark hair, firm jaw, and a straight nose. For a second, I wonder what he appears like without the anger lines marring his face. It takes strength to not gawk.

I swallow. f**k. I’m literally left to his mercy.

Wordlessly, he releases me, only to grip my upper arm, tugging me away, and toward the treeline where the pack first appeared. We stride past the other wolves, all their gazes locked on me. I can’t get a read on what any of them are thinking, given the speed he yanks me.

We break the treeline and he leads me to where a bag lies nearby. “Sit.”

I remain steady in my stare. Regardless of how my family opted to treat me, I won’t be bossed around like a dog by somebody who is one.

His jaw clenches, eyes narrowing. “Please.” But the hardened way he says it doesn’t match the word.

I do nothing.

His huff is heavy. “Sit, girl, or I’ll make you.”

After another heartbeat, he does exactly that. His hand grips me, all but swinging me toward the tree he pointed to earlier. My arms, still bound, work their best to remain steady.

“There. Good. Now stay.” Waves of wrath roll from his shoulders and he grabs clothing from the bag, putting it on as he walks toward his pack who waits nearby.

As soon as his back is turned, my hands begin working at the cuffs on my wrists.