Her Three Cursed Soulmates

Chapter 8

Lyra POV

A crack of thunder sounds overhead.

I look up at the darkening sky. I’ve been traveling through the city for two days, looking for signs of any Moon Caster covens, and so far, I’ve found nothing. I shouldn’t be letting that get to me, of course—two days is a pretty short amount of time for a search like this—but I’m starting to feel a bit frustrated by the whole thing.

And now this storm.

It’s only mid-afternoon, but I’m going to have to stop my search for the day and get inside to wait it out, or else risk all my things getting wet. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, I suppose, but I’m probably not going to find any Moon Casters during a storm anyway. Might as well wait this out.

I’m in a residential neighborhood, so I choose a house at random and hurry up the porch stairs and inside. Just as I close the door behind me, the sky breaks open. I see a flash of lightning and hear the sound of rain beating down on the roof.

Great.

I can’t even make a fire to eat one of my alphabet soups—not indoors. Which is a damn shame. I opened my first can the night before last, and it was delicious.

Out of habit, I check all the cupboards in the house’s little kitchen. There’s nothing there, of course. There almost never is. I love hunting for my food—I’m good at it, and it makes me feel powerful. But sometimes it blows my mind that there was a time when people could just go to stores and get all the food they wanted. Whoever lived here, back before the Lunar Reversal, I’m sure that had cupboards full of food. It’s just that someone has picked them bare in the intervening years.

Below my feet, I hear the sound of something moving around. Claws on the wood floor.

I freeze.

Rat?

I’m not too proud to eat a rat. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to cook that up either in the present circumstances. But I could catch it now and save it for when the rain stops.

This house has to have a basement. That’s the only way something could be coming from below me.

I try a few doors until eventually I find the one with steps going down behind it. It’s dark down there, of course, but there isn’t much I can do about it other than leaving the door open to let a sliver of light down after me. I know that my eyes will adjust.

I creep slowly down the stairs, not wanting to scare the rat, or whatever it is. When I reach the bottom, I turn in a slow circle, my eyes glued to the floor, searching for movement—

Behind me, something yelps.

I let out a cry, spinning and stumbling backward at the same time, more startled than frightened. When I recovered myself, I saw that the noise came from a dog—no, not a dog. It's a wolf. And he’s locked in a cage.

That’s why I thought it was a dog. That’s a dog kennel.

“Holy s**t,” I breathe. “What the f**k are you doing in there?”

The wolf stares at me sullenly.

And then he shifts.

A moment later, I’m looking at a man. I can’t get the full measure of him, curled up in that cage the way he is, but I can tell that he’s tall, lean, and muscular. He has dark brown hair that hangs to his chin and several days of growth of stubble on his cheeks.

I force myself not to look too closely at certain other parts of his body, even though my eyes are definitely drawn there.

“Who the hell are you?” he demands.

I blink.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I asked you first,” he says.

“But I’m not the one locked in a cage,” I point out. “I’m guessing this isn’t your house.”

“It’s one of my pack’s safe houses,” he says. “And they’ll kill you if they find you here.”

“So I guess they better not find me here,” I say. “Thanks for the heads up.”

I adjust my backpack and turn back toward the stairs. It sucks that it’s already started raining, but I’m not going to hang out here if there’s a chance this guy’s pack is going to come back. I’ll find another house to wait out the storm in.

“Hang on,” he calls.

I look back over my shoulder.

“Let me out,” he says.

I laugh.

“Like hell.”

“Come on,” he urges. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah. And I totally trust you, a shifter locked in a cage. You just told me your pack would kill me if they saw me.”

“They would. I won’t. Especially not if you let me out of here. If you did that, I’d be in your debt. I’d owe you a favor.”

“I don’t need a favor from you,” I tell him. “I can handle myself.”

“Where’s your pack?” he asks.

“What makes you think I’m part of a pack?”

“I know you’re a wolf. I could smell you coming down the stairs.”

His tone is smug, obnoxious, and I am a little frustrated that he knew what I was before I even knew he was here.

“Well, I don’t have a pack,” I tell him. “I’m on my own.”

“So then you do need help.”

“No,” I say.

“Look, everyone knows a female can’t survive in the wild on her own.

Most men couldn’t do it.”

“Just for that, I’m going to leave you here,” I say, completely pissed off now. “Enjoy your cage.”

I start back up the stairs.

“Wait!” he calls. “I really need your help.”

I almost don’t. I almost keep going. But there’s something in his voice— some kind of desperation—that stops me. I can’t just walk away.

Besides, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

“Tell me your name,” I suggest.

He nods.

“Cassian,” he says. “My name is Cassian.”