Moon Bound

6. Carina

Temptation to watch the pack shift rode high, as it’s one more thing I’m curious about witnessing, but the second the first shuffle of clothing being removed reached my ears, I averted my eyes. Watching a wolf shift is one thing. Watching three guys and a girl get naked was a whole other.

I hated how I was still tempted to watch Ryder. To see the hard sinewy muscles I felt against my body and—

Stop. I end the thoughts before they get too deep and focus on keeping my grip on Ryder’s fur as we streak through the dark woods. Riding on a wolf’s back began as an experience, but now, after so long, I’m tired.

It’s been hours since we left. Hours since I got abandoned by my own coven—my own family. The thought sours my already-waning mood, twisting my insides into a knot.

On top of being tossed out, they ruined my chance to graduate on time—a fact I’m sure Grandma would be thrilled about when she realizes. If I don’t get to the hospital for my shift tomorrow, or call in explaining my absence, I could lose my practicum and have to begin all over.

Since we left, my brain has been a whirling mess. If I get free of this pack, do I go home? My family was okay with sacrificing me, and while not ever seeing them ever again doesn’t sit well with me, what would I even go back to? I’d merely fall back into line of being the dutiful soldier.

I’m a solider to Grandma and the weak princess to Ryder. Question is, which one do I want to be?

While being on Ryder’s back may have been enjoyable for a short thirty seconds, it hasn’t been for a while now. The cuffs mean I can’t wrap my arms around his neck, leaving me with no other option than holding his fur. Which has made lying down even more awkward and uncomfortable. The constant motion and cold has made my fingers numb. I’ve long lost feeling in them and I’m sure they’re only able to still grasp his fur from being frozen in position. He’s also not slim in wolf form, so my thighs have been spread for hours. Though I’ve sent multiple thank the Goddess prayers I’m not in a dress today, the pain is starting to become unbearable. I shift on him yet again, but no amount of moving helps. On top all of this, I need to pee and the motion against my bladder is starting to burn.

The wind, once calm and gentle, has whipped at me for hours. It wasn’t long before it was a bothersome sharp pain against my face and I bent myself over, using his body to block what it can. For hours, I’ve had my nose stuck in his fur, which, thankfully hasn’t stunk of musk. Instead, it’s a pleasant airy scent. Outdoorsy, but not dirty.

I’m stuck on the back of a creature who can’t respond to me, so I’m unable to ask how much longer until we arrive. Occasionally, when bravery finds me in between the fear, I open my eyes to the blur of the shadowy forest streaming behind me, but close them when I make nothing out.

All in all, my coven abandoning me hasn’t made for the most comfortable of days.

The trip leaves me to my thoughts and they’re ones I don’t want to have. Thoughts of what Mom is doing and how Grandma is living with herself. For my entire life, I respected my family and coven. As a child, I studied our ways. As a teenager, I learned my powers, and as an adult, I stuck by our traditions, even if being human constantly sounded better.

But when a scapegoat was needed, I became it. Thrown to the wolves, literally.

More than once, I consider letting go of the wolf and finding my own way out of here, but tramping through the woods, especially those unknown to me, doesn’t seem like the best method of escape. And ultimately, I have nowhere to go.

The muscles under me begin to slow to a jog. The wind becomes less harsh against my back, so I lift my head, examining the forest around us. No change in scenery, regardless of how long we’ve been running.

Ryder’s shoulders shift, one lifting higher than the other, and it nudges my body to the left. Assuming he wants me off of him, I finally release his fur, my fingers flexing straight out for the first time in hours. They wiggle, bending, and I welcome the rush of feeling back into them.

Ryder trots out of eyesight, but before I can track him, he’s back, pulling on shorts. His human body is layered in a sheen of sweat adding to his rugged appearance. His arms flex, the muscles highlighted by the glistening, as he watches the rest of his pack shift back. Again, I glance away.

“We’ve arrived.”

Keeping my gaze between the trees, I search for the pavement and buildings I hope to see that represent civilization.

His pack walks by us, each one making eye contact with Ryder, but avoid even looking at me. The final one—the one who pretended to be alpha earlier—stops beside us, claps Ryder on the shoulder, and strides silently through the trees, leaving him and me by ourselves.

“Come on.” His deep timbre vibrates over the area, commanding and sure. He takes a step forward.

I hesitate, not wanting to follow him. The dark forest taunts me, reminding me I have no alternate option but to see where he is bringing me. I don’t know where we are, so taking off isn’t an option. Besides, I’m sure the pack would easily find me, especially with it being the middle of the night.

So, I swallow and follow him between a row of trees, breaking out to the other side and into a grassy area, with cabins up ahead.

Cabins. They live in freaking cabins?

Wordlessly, he leads me toward the encampment and down a path between two cabins. Despite being the middle of the night, the camp is abuzz with activity. People—wolves, I realize—remain scattered around a lit fire in the centre. There’s a dozen or so of them and they all turn to peer at me. The weight of their gazes is heavy on my shoulders and I swallow, forcing myself to ignore them as I scan the area. It’s simple. The two dozen small cabins remain in a circle around the large firepit.

More faces pop out of cabins. They all find Ryder first, with obvious expressions of reverence, before shifting to me. Unlike him, I only get a mix of curiosity and disdain. Not that I expect differently of course. I’m a witch—the sheep amongst wolves. A fact that has me stepping closer to Ryder. So far, he’s shown no indication of hurting me, so he’s my best bet.

The sound of feet shuffling nearby catches my attention, as a woman shoves a child through the cabin’s door. I roll my eyes.

If I was sensible, I’d hang my head to appear non-threatening. But I’m not wise, so instead, I stand straighter, chin jutted. If I die, I’ll die appearing proud, like someone the Goddess herself would respect.

“This way.” Ryder turns slightly, edging in a particular direction. I follow him toward one of the cabins—it’s identical to the others. Worn stacked wood, no window, and a single small door Ryder pushes open. “You’ll remain in here.”

I scan the dimness beyond him. Nothing’s apparent through there, but it’s a cabin, so it’s not hard to imagine the dirty, dingy wooden floors, chilled space, and lack of plumbing.

“No house I can stay at instead?”

His lips twitch, as if he’s fighting a smirk. “No house, princess. Just these small cabins.”

“Is there a bathroom in there?”

Again with the lip twitch, this time lifting to one side. “Yes, there’s a bathroom. You’ll be shocked to know there’s also toilet paper.”

Oh, thank you, Goddess!

The hint of a smirk falls into a serious expression. “If you’re aiming for insults, you’ll need to try a bit harder than that.” Ryder gestures inside again. “We had electricity and plumbing ran. The switch is by the door.”

“Congrats for finding the twenty-first century at least.”

Ryder’s expression remains blank and bored, proving my insults don’t do a thing to him. I huff, partially irritated he’s remaining stoic while my life is blowing up, and step through the doorway, my clasped hands immediately stroking the wall in search of the switch. They make contact and I flick the switch, illuminating the small cabin.

I spin back to him, arms held up. “Wait. Are you going to remove these?” I jingle my cuffed wrists.

A dip appears between his brows. “No.”

They jangle as I shake them again. “How will I use the bathroom?” My legs shift, insides clenching, my words reminding my body of how bad it has to go.

“Not my problem, princess. Figure it out.” His arm reaches across me and he slams the door shut, blocking me from everyone else. The door doesn’t lock, but I suppose it doesn’t need to. Not when there’s an entire pack out there who will stop me.

I deflate further, my shoulders dropping lower than ever before as I scan the space around me. It’s smaller than my room back home, with a queen bed resting against the far wall. Beside it, a small round table with a single chair tucked in the corner. A book is shoved under one of the table legs. Charming. Across the room another doorway waits, a sink peeking out from beyond. Relief is instant at the sight of the tiny bathroom.

Using it is difficult and requires a lot of shimmying. Now would be a fantastic time to have access to my magic. After what has to be the most difficult bathroom break I’ve ever had, I head back to the main room.

Now my body is satisfied, so I take better account of the room. The broken table is covered in a subtle level of dust. Clearly, no one comes in here to clean. Some guest cabin.

The bed is made up of a single fleece blanket. It’s stretched across the bed, but askew, like it was made in a rush. Two small, worn-out pillows rest against the wall at the head of the bed. Not even a headboard. The pillows have evidence of head marks, like this place hasn’t even been straightened up after its last visitor.

The chest at the end of the bed catches my attention and I open it, curious and hoping to find something that could help me. Much to my disappointment, there’s only clothes. Between bound hands, I lift a pair of dark jeans from the chest, getting hit with a similar woodsy scent as earlier.

Wait. My head comes up and I scan the room again, searching for more signs of life, but find nothing. This is his room… I think. The jeans fall from my hand and back into the home they came from. The messy bed now makes sense. It appears used because it is used. There’s no personal photos or trinkets, like all he does in this cabin is sleep. I suspect I’m about to learn a lot about shifters.

The mattress is thin, but I gingerly sit. The bed bounces slightly as I rest, surprise pulling my mouth up into a small smile. At least it’s semi-comfortable.

My sigh fills the cabin as I wait for Ryder to return.