Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1) (7 page)

(11) Gone Girl

|Regan's POV|

His face is staring at me from behind the frame glass, my hands are itching, my fingers - trembling.  It's one of the few reminders I have left of the man who taught me so many hard lessons. My father.

Do I see him in a different light now that I know what it is to be constantly rejected by your mate? Do I find an excuse for what he did? Will I be forced to do the same just to continue on the path he's set me on or will I choose another? Will I be able to live with her hating me like he lived with my mom, his own mate, hating him?

History is repeating itself. The man who killed his mate has been killed by his son and now that son... now that son is living the same fate. The past can't be changed but what about the future?

My hand acts on its own accord, flinging the frame into the air, throwing it at the closed door. The frame breaks, pieces of glass and broken wood falling to the hardwood floor, the picture laying underneath the ruins.

So many lessons yet none of them can give me the answers I need now. He taught me how to live with the blood staining my hands, not how to avoid getting it on them in the first place.

'Sacrifices must be made for the pack. This is what being an alpha means,'
 I remember those words of his. A law he followed to the letter and made me follow too. I remember the look on his face when he realized I've finally come to take my place as the alpha of the pack, the leader who had to fall facing the one on the rise in his last moments of life. Those features have been stuck in the horrible realization of what he's made me do... at last.

He hasn't been my first kill, far from it - he has nurtured the thirst for blood in me from an early age only to be just one of the many victims it would take. Always speaking about sacrifices, he has become one himself.

Walking to the door, picking up the picture of him, I peer at that smiling face unsuspecting my betrayal, remembering all the things he made me do. Perhaps, it was those things that sealed my fate and led me to this moment or was it just me being weak, giving in to my father's harsh treatment too easily?

Did I let him turn me into this monster or was it just me who turned on my own?

The soft knock distracts me from my thoughts, the intruder standing on the opposite side and waiting for my invitation. It is the female, her scent wafting to me through the small cracks. A human will never get a whiff of her, but I am too far from human even without being an alpha, however, I am an alpha as well. And this is more than just a word for the moon children. I am the person who is supposed to protect them and put order to their animalistic instincts.

But how can I do that when I've become a chaos myself?

She's still waiting on the other side of the closed door, waiting for me to give the permission. Reluctant to do so, I know she's an important part of the mess I need to clean up if I am to ever have a chance with the mate who keeps rejecting me. Do I really want that chance? Or better yet, do I deserve it?

Sacrifices
, the voice within my head whispers, an echo of my father's voice haunting me from a past I wish I can leave behind. It always comes back.

Letting out a sigh, I back off from the door. "Come in," I utter, not letting the desperation into my voice.

An alpha doesn't let others see the turmoil wrecking what's inside of him.

She enters the room, her steps deliberately slow in her caution. Hesitant to look at me, her eyes are cast downwards as she approaches.

"Alpha," her melodic voice is barely a whisper, her head bent low in submission. She has learned a lesson or two about me after all.

"What do you want?" I grind out, the picture crumbling under my fingers.

"I... I-"

"Just say what you've come for and don't let me repeat myself," I cut her off, already tired of this, her.

"I... just wanted to check on you. See if you're okay," she blurts, her cheeks filling with color as she peers up at me.

She's got me confused with someone else. A weaker man. "And why wouldn't I be okay?" I inquire, the beast raising his head as eager as I am to find out this female's opinion of us.

It shouldn't matter. The only one who should have any importance to us isn't here now to bestow her judgment, however, we need to find if this other female will give us her approval. Am I weak for needing another's affirmation? Should I feel guilty for seeking the comfort she must give me from someone else?

Can the woman looking at me see it's what this is?

For a few moments, Sasha fumbles with the hem of her dress, fingers raking over the material in suggestion and perhaps a bit of uneasiness. She snaps her head up at me, tucking the few locks that have escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

"I presumed she'd rejected you," she says slowly, almost as if she's tasting the words on her tongue, the same one that's now flickering over her lips. "I thought you'll need-"

"You thought wrong. She didn't reject me." 
She just didn't say it
, I add silently, hoping she doesn't see the heartbreak in me. And perhaps, she doesn't. What we had has never been the emotional kind of relationship. She doesn't know me this way. No one has ever known me this way.

"She didn't?" So much doubt in those words.

"She didn't," I confirm, biting back the beast's anger for being questioned by someone as low in the pack ranks as this female is. "You may leave now. Your services are no longer required."

Shoulders slumping in defeat, she gives me a slight nod, turns back, retracing her steps, glass crunching under her feet. A lie being revealed.

I look at the broken frame pieces long after she's gone, wondering if it will be Scarlet to come and clean them up, hating myself for even considering asking her to do it so I could see her, breathe the same air.

Being blind and stupid for two years is now turning me into someone I despise more than the person from yesterday. It pains me to look at the mess I've created but I know that there's no other way for me to ever approach her.

I lay on my bed, thinking about her as darkness fills up the room. Even in the dark, I can see her face, so close yet so distant. Probably for hours, she's haunting my dreams, the ones I'm not allowed to have.

I keep waiting for her to come back, to tell me she meant nothing of what she said but it's not Scarlet who comes in the early hours of the morning.

It's a cry. Loud inside the mind-link, one of the patrols is reporting a disturbance in the territory.

Jumping out of bed, I run outside into the morning darkness. Listening for the patrol. Trying to pinpoint a location.

The moon is low in the brightening sky, sinking down for the new day to come as I discard my clothes and shift, running into the forest.

Breach in pack land
, others join, panic penetrating their mental voices as I race through the trees.

Uneasiness creeps over my stretching form, the beast howling inside, clawing at me to hurry up, catch up before it's too late. Afraid, he is so afraid.

I slow my pace, breathing in the scents of the forest in hope to find out...

The trail is so faint, the sweet aroma of lilac barely recognizable underneath all others but to me it's a scent I'll know everywhere. Her scent. Fading away as if she's fading away too.

My paws thundering on the forest canopy, I reach into the pack bond, my mind searching for her unique spark as my wolf is following the trail her feet left on the ground.

I feel it. The world is crashing down on me. The sky is falling, ruptured by thunders and storms.

SCARLET
, I shout, the beast on an uproar inside me, breaking down just like the man is.

Free. I am free, Alpha.
 A distant echo of laughter sinking into the silence.

She's left... 

Gone...

Free.

(12) Pack

|Scarlet's POV|

I feel lost watching the speeding by trees, the illuminated crowns shaping into a tunnel-like passage. The sun rays are probing through the withered leaves as windy hands are lifting up the ones resting on the ground until they are air-born, dancing and singing along the inaudible melody. Magic is clinging in the chilly morning air, the same one wafting through the slid down window. Small particles of dust are left behind our passage, the tires protesting their advance on the dirt road.

It's been hours since we switched our places and, although I keep dosing off as my lids closing against my will to keep them up, I can never fully relax in my seat.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Scar." A slight nudge to my side follows her words. She won't let me rest. "We're almost there."

Her face looks blurred in my vision, lack of sleep and exhaustion both playing on it.

"You keep saying this. Yet, here we are - in the middle of nowhere," I mumble groggily to her. All that's come from her mouth so far has been a total BS.

"Ten minutes," she promises for probably the fifteenth time, bags under her eyes and dark circles surrounding them.

She's the only person who has done anything for me. For two years, there hasn't been anyone to help me, sacrifice themselves in any, even the smallest of ways person... for me.

This means amount to something. Her sacrifice must mean we're really getting somewhere. Getting home.

Trusting her - a stranger, "Hope there's a bed ready 'cause I'm ready to fall down," I say, imagining all that could be waiting for me, hopefully will.

"A bed as well as breakfast," she taunts.

My stomach taking that as a sign to give a loud churn by the very mention of food, I perk up. 

Turning my way, giving me a soft chuckle, "See, it's hungry," she points out.

"Eyes on the road, please," I snap, irked by her careless driving. "I would rather have us stay on the road, you know." She knows. We both do after what happened.

Rolling her eyes at me, she raises her arms in a gesture of mock surrender. "Yeah, hold it against me, will ya?" 

"Hands on the freaking wheel, Micah!" I shout, both drowsiness and hunger forgotten.

"Alright, alright. Chill, girlfriend," she bellows, placing her hands on the wheel. 

The rest of the journey is spent in silence, only interrupted by her occasional chuckle. Listening to the rumble of the engine, watching the passing by trees, the light that intensifies as the wind picks up the leaves, throws them to the ground to rot for the coming winter, I can't help but think of all I've left behind.

Imagining Alpha with his pack, he's now probably sitting at breakfast, laughing alongside them, happy and rejoicing despite his mate not being next to him. Wishing that he could feel it, what it's like to be broken - empty, I know he probably doesn't.

Too strong to be weak. Too domineering to feel anything but anger because of my decision to leave him to his own devices. Forcing me to crumble from the very beginning. Why?

"Safe and sound at the final destination." Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts. 

Holding my breath, I see the house looming ahead of us, the people waiting in front.

"Right on time too. See, you shouldn't have doubted me," she tells me with a smirk. I have had every reason to doubt her, thank you very much.

As soon as she pulls over in front of the house, I hop out of the car, shaking my head at her.

The welcome party consists of six people - five males and a female. At five feet eleven she's just a few inches shorter than the males, hair a dark shade of red, falling past her shoulders, she's standing next to a guy with multiple tattoos, his arm possessively snaked around her waist.

Two of the males are dressed in jeans and t-shirts, chests strong and bulky under the clothes as their eyes are silently inspecting, evaluating me. The one in the middle of the group has chosen a black leather jacket over his button down and faded jeans while the man standing in front of the group, is wearing a black suit, golden hair shining under the sunlight and a shadow of a beard shading half of his otherwise strikingly beautiful face and giving him a somewhat rugged look.

Silver gaze resting upon me, the man steps forth, offering me a hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Scarlet. My name is Michael and I'm a friend of your father."

My father, however, didn't have any vampire friends. I should have known if he had. And Michael, with the gleam of fang showed through his parted in a smile lips, is surely one of the undead.

Lifting my hand, I place it in his. "A pleasure," I respond politely. "So, you knew my father?" 

The guy behind Michael shuffles nervously, his midnight black eyes probing at me like I'm some kind of a rare specimen in his study. 

"I knew him, yes," Michael confirms, eyes closing for a moment, then snapping back at me. "He was a fine man," he says quietly. "A rare kind of person." 

My stepdad hasn't been a rare kind of person, no. He was just an ordinary man trying to keep his pack as strong as it could possibly be. Despite the odds.

And he failed. There is nothing rare about failure as far as I know.

"I'm sorry he's not the one to meet you today," Michael says, grief in those silver eyes. "He'd have wanted to be the one to meet you."

What a strange thing to say. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand, sir. I lived my whole life with my dad and you're speaking like he never really knew--"

"No, Scarlet." He shakes his head. "Your real father never even met you. He was killed before he could return to you and your mom." Sadness, so much sadness in those eyes, in those words.

"Oh. I-"

"And please, just call me Michael."

"Yes, I can do that, si--... I mean, Michael. But how do you know... err, my real father?"

"It's a long story, Scarlet, and I'll tell it to you but maybe at a better time."

"Yeah, he'll tell you all about it later. Now, come on. Let's get this pity party over and get something to eat. I'm starving,"  Micah says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You should starve for getting her here two days later," the guy next to Michael declares, scowling at her.  

Right on time, huh?
 I smirk at her.  

"Oh, shut up, Scar!"  

"I didn't say anything," I point out, arms up in surrender only to be met by her hard stare.

"You thought it just fine, though," she accuses.

I shrug. Can't deny the obvious, can I?

"I see you're going to be just fine here, Scarlet," Michael interrupts, hushing the obnoxious girl next to me. "Have fun and enjoy yourself. Cole here is going to get you up to speed. I hope we meet again soon so we can have our private conversation."

"Likewise, Michael. It was nice meeting you," I say, shaking his hand once more before he turns to leave.

In the blink of an eye, he's gone.

"Well, Scarlet," the guy who has spoken to Micah earlier begins. "Let's finish the introductions and get you something to eat, shall we?" he winks.

I nod, smiling at him. Returning the smile, dark brown locks falling in messy curls, his midnight eyes are intent on me.

Motioning towards the couple, he says, "Those two lovebirds are Jazmine and Hunter." he motions towards the couple as the redhead gives a small wave my way.

The guy nods my way, his girlfriend giving me the smallest of waves before looking away as if there's nothing of interest she's seeing in me.

"Nice to meet you both," I offer with a smile a bit envious of their obvious affection for each other. Something I will never have. It doesn't hurt me, not the way it is supposed to. It stings, pain tuned out by darkness that lives inside of me.

"David." I nod at the shy brunette next to Cole. "And this one here is his brother-"

"Thanks, Cole," the guy snorts, then offers me a heart-warming smile. "It's Adam, babe." He supplies, tapping a finger in the middle of his chest, right above the 'Hottie Alert' writing on his baby pink t-shirt.

Raising a brow, I give Adam an appreciative once-over. A wicked grin spreads across his face, baby blues sparkling with humor at my appraisal of him.

Welcoming my attention, offering me a hand, he issues a cocky, "Only stating the obvious, sweetheart."

"Cut it off, Adam," Cole grumbles, shooing the offered hand away and replacing it with his own. "Don't bother with him, darling. He's not going to deliver. 
He's swinging the opposite way
," he whispers only for me to hear which, with the company he keeps, is close to impossible.

"Jackass." Muttered under his breath, Adam goes into the house, the others follow in as well.

Giggling, I accept Cole's offered hand. 

"You look like someone ran over you, darling," he remarks leaning in to whisper in my ear. "But don't worry. I'll let you get your beauty sleep before I start with you," he says and leads me into the house.