Moon Bound

5. Ryder

What. The. f**k.

When I took the girl—the woman—I hadn’t thought I would actually be walking away with her. Grabbing her seemed like a sure win, but instead, the witches practically handed her to me, abandoning her in the process. A small bit of compassion weaves into my brain, and I wonder how I’d feel to be in her spot right now.

Father wouldn’t abandon you.

Isn’t he though? That’s what all this is about. Father made a deal, leaving you parentless in the end.

As I walk away from the witch, I shake those thoughts from my head, despising the truth behind the words. On the smallest level, I can relate to her, but in the end it’s not the same. Death isn’t equivalent to being handed over to the enemy.

I make my way back to the pack, ignoring their grim expressions.

Mark instantly chimes up, his eyes darkening. “What in all hells was that about?”

I palm my forehead, fully aware and hating I failed Father in this mission. I’m an embarrassment to both my current position as beta and my upcoming position as alpha. If I can’t save my father, how will I manage an entire group of shifters? My wolf rumbles in displeasure.

My actions today may have had no headway in protecting Father from death, but I won’t lose faith just yet. Not until his heart stops beating.

“Apparently, a change in plans was in order.”

“What now?” Lucas asks. His eyes drift behind me. “We’re actually taking her back with us?” When he meets my gaze again, I see the secondary concerns scrolling through them. Concerns I also share.

What will the pack think bringing a witch straight into the fold? How will the elders react? Will Father see this as a failure? What does any of this say about my ability as alpha? So many unknowns.

“Yeah,” I reply, mouth folding down into a frown as the questions continue to pound into me, causing a headache. “We give them the three days we agreed upon.”

Lucas’s frown mirrors my own. “They should have taken the bait. Something isn’t adding up. Why would they give up one of their own so easily?”

A question I’ve also been wondering, and one having birthed a disconcerting twist in my stomach. “Witches are protective of their covens in general, and I’m sure sacrificing their own isn’t new to them. But still… I agree. More reason to be on our guard the next little while. We’ll increase the patrols. Watch the camp more closely.”

For all I know, she’s their Trojan horse and like the original story, we’ll welcome her into our camp and seal our fate in the process.

Lucas nods once, ever agreeing with me, and glances past my shoulder again. His eyes go wide, but before I have a chance to question it, he utters, “She’s vanished.”

I spin, heels digging into the ground underfoot. How the hell did she get away from an entire pack of wolves? It’s not like she has access to her magic to hide her scent from us.

I growl, frustration coating my nerves, and take off into a run toward the tree I left her at. Even in human form, my nose has heightened senses and I pick up her distinct scent of cinnamon, tracing it toward the East and through more trees. It weaves in between each one, as if she’s trying to lose me. The sun is barely a glow anymore and my human eyes shift, allowing my wolf’s enhanced vision to take over.

I don’t shift the rest of my body, preferring to keep my hands free and ready, as I suspect I’ll be needing them. Her scent is overlaid with sour anxiety and fear. It stings my nose, but the more I run, the stronger it gets, telling me I’m closing in on her with every step. She’s scared, not that I blame her.

She got far, but as I turn a corner around a tree, it goes away. She’s here. I scan each tree circling me, eyes narrowing in focus.

“I won’t hurt you,” I call out, keeping my tone light and friendly. “Let’s talk.”

There’s a small shuffling nearby and my head jerks toward the noise, by a tree on my left. I step in its direction, before halting again. If she comes to me, it’ll be willing. If I move there and drag her back, it won’t help my case.

“I won’t hurt you,” I repeat.

She steps out from behind the tree, her wary eyes focused on me. There’s a distinct line of tear stains on her cheeks, and other than the sickening scent of fear wafting from her, she’s handling it fairly well. Outwardly, at least.

Her hair falls down around her body, like a cloak on its own. With her small figure and caved-in body, she appears as if she’s a delicate little thing and it’s no wonder I mistook her for a child from afar. She’s so friggin’ petite. Even without knowing her, the knowledge she’s feistier than she first appeared hits me strong.

I scan her, eyes settling on her tight jeans, small shirt, and most noticeably, her red-painted nails. Beneath the fear, the evident dark colour of makeup shows. She stands straight, her hands hanging lightly by her side. No slouch. Even down to her leather shoes, she come across as if she’s supposed to be out with friends, rather than standing in the middle of a forest. Her striking, put-together appearance is a stark difference to my dirty jeans, loose shirt, and day-old scruff.

She’s like a princess.

Her eyes skim the area, darting from tree to tree.

“I’m alone,” I tell her.

The anxiety attached to her cinnamon scent lessens a bit and a smile tugs at my mouth, finding myself pleased.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

Uncertainty flickers in her eyes and when her mouth parts to speak, I hold my breath, knowing it’ll be the first time I hear her voice.

“Why should I tell you?” Her voice is as delicate as the rest of her, but still holds harsh undertones.

“Seems like we’ll be stuck together for a while, princess.” The nickname flows so easily I don’t stop myself.

Her body jerks, as if I’ve hit her. “Why would you call me that?”

“Because you look like one.” Truth rolls from my tongue.

She gazes away and my eyes zero in on the fresh tear rolling down her cheek. “I thought I was one, but then, I suppose the princess gets saved. Not taken away.”

I get the sense she needs to be saved, because what other family throws away one of their own? Shivers have my arms twitching, but not from the cool air; instead, longing takes over me as I watch her, feeling like I could be the one to save her.

“In some fairy tales, the person who steals the princess saves her in the end.”

Electricity prickles thick in the air between us. She blinks, staring down at her feet for a moment before lifting her hand to swipe at her cheek. When she meets my gaze again, there’s a shift. The tears are dried; her face unstained as if she never cried in the first place. She stands straighter, something I didn’t think possible.

“Carina.”

“Carina,” I repeat, murmuring only to myself. Unique, and even without knowing her, I can tell it suits her perfectly. Because as I eye this stranger, something sits heavy in my stomach. A mix of guilt and something else.

“And you?” she asks. “Fair’s fair.”

A smirk pulls at my mouth, but I force it to remain flat and firm, not wanting to give away my amusement with her. “Ryder.”

“Ryder,” she repeats. The way she says it has my brain going fuzzy for a moment.

But then remembering where we are, I throw my thumb to gesture behind me. “We need to get going now.”

“Going?” Her body stills.

Was she not in that clearing with us? “Yes,” I reply slowly and dragged-out. “We can’t stay here.”

“R-right.” Her falter is swallowed by the deep gulp she forces, followed by a sharp inhale. “Well, first, I need things. My cell phone, most importantly. Clothes. Shoes. I can’t very well travel in this.” Her hands gesture to her normal seeming clothes, so I don’t know what she’s referring to.

I can’t stop the snort that insists on coming out. Nor the squeezing in my chest as pity joins my amusement. When I speak, I weigh my words carefully. “Do you honestly think going back is an option?”

Her brows pull together over widened eyes. “What, I’m supposed to leave like this?” She gestures to herself. “Just the clothes on my back and nothing else?”

My head tilts to the side, questioning her logic. “That is the definition of captivity, princess.”

Her teeth bare. “It’s Carina, mutt, remember that.”

My brows shoot to the sky as my head jerks straight again. Seems like the princess finally remembered her sword. “Carina,” I say, sure to lighten my words with a mocking tone.

She jangles the cuffs on her wrist now. “Can you remove these?”

Again, I question her wit. “No. Why would I do that?”

Her eyes narrow and her voice drops lower. “I don’t know how to do defensive magic. You’d be safe.”

I scoff. She’ll say anything to free her magic, so even if it’s true, it’s not happening. I refuse to put the pack at risk because of my stupid mistake. While the coven seems set on not helping, taking Carina is the small bit of hope I can hold onto. Hope, that after today, they come to their senses. If I free her magic now, she’ll take off before I’m even finished undoing the clasp and I’ll have nothing.

“Come,” I say instead of addressing her request. I back away a step and add, “You follow or I’ll carry you. Your choice, but choose wisely.”

Displeasure ripples over her skin, tightening the muscles underneath, and she steps forward. Her teeth smash together—an action I hear rather than see and her hands fist at her side. I remain a step behind her, still directing the way back to the pack but keeping her in sight. She doesn’t run or try anything stupid, as if she’s finally realized she has nowhere to go.

The pack lingers nearby in the same area I left them. As one, their eyes narrow on Carina. Lucas breaks his attention first, shooting a glance toward me. His uncertainty has its place but is now starting to get annoying.

“Shift. We’re going home,” I command. We need to get off these lands before the witches come back for us. “Carina, you will climb on my back.”

With that order, they all begin removing their clothes. Nudity amongst the pack is a common occurrence, regardless of gender. My eyes drift to Carina, curious to see how she’s handling the scene, but her head remains facing away, telling me what I need to know. I strip too, quickly shifting in time to meet four other wolves.

Carina scans the circle of us before glancing the way we had just come from. Is she stupid enough to run now? I caught her as a human, so there’s no way she’ll outrun five wolves.

The realization must hit her too because she sighs, her shoulders drooping as she walks toward me. Begrudgingly, based on her slow steps and the way her shoes drag against the dirt.

I bend slightly, making it easier for her to climb on my back. Hesitation remains firm in her stiff bones as she hooks one leg around me, all but falling onto the curve of my back. Her bound hands do her no favours in getting settled. She’s the first person to have ever ridden on my back, as people in my life come with their own four legs. I shift my muscles as I stand, getting her into place at the ridge of my back. Her hands come to grasp the fur at my neck, the metal around her wrists heavy on my body.

I meet everyone’s gaze, nodding to each of them and silently giving orders they wait for. As one, we turn, jogging into the darkening forest. The sun is barely showing over the tops of the trees, meaning inside the forest, night has already settled. It’ll be extremely late by the time we make it home, closer to morning than midnight.

My speed picks up and her fingers tighten in my fur. She lowers her front to mine and I ignore the swell of her breasts pressed against my back, knowing she’s only doing it to remain out of the wind my speed creates.

And I run. Run toward home with a witch rather than the spell needed for my father.