Temptation of the Wolf: A Silver Moon Novel (Book 1) (9 page)

The rest of the pages were not that interesting, mostly her mother’s fears for her children, that she could sense her husband keeping more secrets from her. The following journal was much the same, but in the pages of the next journal she found something.

I am scared, I can admit it. Yesterday, we heard from another pack who demanded an audience with George and his wolves. They called themselves the Crescent Moon Pack and live somewhere up north, although they refused to say where. George met with them, taking a few of the others with him. When they returned they were pale and the fear on their faces was clear for all to see. Apparently, they understand that we have a werewolf son and that our second child, our human child, is a daughter. They have demanded that we turn over Luna to them by the next full moon. Naturally, George refused to hand her over. I do not know what happened exactly after George refused but Mike tells that they used strong magic to overpower them, magic they had never experienced before. George spent last night promising me he will keep our family safe but I am worried.

Another entry was written the following week.

Sweet Lord, please, please, please give me strength to do what needs to be done. George has informed me that we have no choice but to send little Luna away for her own safety. The alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack can do great magic, terrible magic, and needs Luna to complete some kind of dark ritual. George has found a safe place for Luna but it means sending her to Europe. How can I send my baby to another country? How can I not send her away when staying here means her death? George has admitted that he is not as strong as the other alpha and I see the pain in his eyes when he said that. I understand that she has to go but the pain almost makes me want to keep her here. Six years old. That’s all she is. We only have a few more weeks before the Crescent Moon Pack return. I have already started preparing for the move. I asked George why we couldn’t all move to Europe but he refuses. As alpha, he says, it is his duty to protect all those on his lands. An alpha dies defending his territory. He will not budge on his decision. As much as I hate it, he is right. She has to go so that she can live. It will kill me to leave her there but her life depends on it. I am her mother; I will do what I have to keep her safe. All I can say is that I hope it is the right thing.

Flicking through the pages, Luna found an entry dated to two weeks after she had started school in Paris.

It is done. Little Luna has taken well to her new school but my heart has been torn to shreds the moment I said goodbye. I know she will never forgive me but they can’t get to her now. She is safe. 

Tears fell from Luna’s eyes, blinding the words on the pages, the pain born from two decades earlier overwhelming in their intensity. Luna’s body heaved with sobs, clutching her stomach as though she could force the sorrow back, force it back inside so that she wouldn’t have to deal with it. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, wanting to scream so that the world would hear but nothing came out apart from the sounds of her heart being ripped apart.

For so many years Luna had suffered with the pain of being abandoned, sent away to another country, surrounded by strangers. So many nights she had cried herself to sleep in her room, clutching her teddy bear from home, wrapped in the patchwork quilt her mother had sown herself. Luna had saved them both, still sitting on her bed in her Parisian apartment. She had shared her room with another boarder when she first moved to Paris, a British girl named Samantha with flaming red hair, creamy complexion and freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose, who would creep into Luna’s bed each night. Samantha would hold onto Luna, cuddling her, never leaving her until the morning when their Home Teacher would knock on their door to get them ready for lessons. Even at six years old, Samantha somehow knew the hurt she was dealing with. Samantha’s family had also understood this and Luna was invited to their home during the holidays if her own parents couldn’t fly over to France. They were still the best of friends even though Samantha had moved to Tokyo shortly after they had graduated.

Luna’s body started to relax a little, the tears still streaming down her face but finding it easier to draw in air. It was easier to think, too. In the early days of being left at school, Luna had begged for her mother to bring her home but every single request had been denied. Screaming, crying, pleading - nothing worked. Luna had even begged Michael to hide her in his suitcase so she could sneak away. When he refused she had tried getting in the case herself. She could still hear his laughs at the sight of her curled up into a tight ball in the confined space.

A sharp tap at the door startled Luna out of her reverie and her tears ceased to fall. A mop of honey blonde hair was all she could see at first, the tears distorting the image of her brother standing there, peering through the doorway.

“Luna”, he called, his voice soft as rose petals. “I heard you crying. Stupid question but are you alright?”

Luna nodded, her head pounding with the ferocity her sobs had caused. Wiping away tears was easy, wiping away pain wasn’t quite as simple. She was still sitting on the floor, the notebooks strewn all around her. Wordlessly, she handed Michael the notebook.

Michael stepped forward and reached out for it. He took a quick glance at what was written on the aged pages and sighed. He sat down next to his sister and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Eyes still closed, she leaned into him and willed the tears away.

“Do you believe us now, Luna?” he asked softly. “That you weren’t sent away because you weren’t wanted, but because it was the best thing for you?”

Luna nodded her head, her throat still sore. She lacked the energy to talk, her brain couldn’t formulate words, she could only feel.

Michael continued. “Mom and dad ordered me not to tell you anything. I hated it. I hated seeing you cry. I’m this big bad werewolf, sis, but the sight of you crying still hurts. Every time I came to see you in France you’d ask me to take you back home and every time I had to leave you there. Every time I felt your pain but you couldn’t feel ours”.

The summer when she was seventeen, Michael and her mother had flown over to spend two months travelling around France with her before school started. Her dad had had to stay back in Virginia, probably on pack business she now realised, but those eight weeks were the best times Luna had experienced with her family. They had spent time in all the major cities – Reims, Nantes, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Carcassonne, Lyon, and Marseille – endless hours shopping, walks in the countryside, sampling various wines. Michael would tell her stories of his love life back in the States and then try his luck flirting with all the French girls that he came into contact with.

But it was the last night that proved to be the worst. Back in Paris, after the three of them had gone out to dinner, their mother had headed up to her hotel room, leaving Luna and Michael in the bar together. Sipping on his beer, Michael had asked what her plans were for after she had graduated. Luna had told him she was thinking of returning back to the States. Michael’s response was just to heave a sigh of exasperation. When she asked him what was wrong he had told her that with the level of education she enjoyed she could do anything she wanted.

“I want to go home, Michael”, she’d replied.

“Don’t do it, sis, don’t come back. France is more your home than America”.

The pain his words had caused with those words had been excruciating. Vicious tears welled up in her eyes and she had just stared at him. “Fine”, she had whispered to him, her voice raw with pain and hatred for her family just then. “I know when I’m not wanted”.

Michael drained his glass and slammed it on the bar. Others in the bar had turned their heads in their direction but neither Luna nor Michael had acknowledged them. Their eyes were locked on each other. “It’s not about being wanted, or not being wanted. It’s about what’s best for you. You are wanted, sis, but it’s better if you stay here. Get your education, get a life and grow up and do something you love. There’s nothing back in America”. And with that, Michael had stormed off upstairs to his room.

Luna had flagged down a taxi and rode back to her school in tears. She’d refused to talk to her brother for the next six weeks before he had finally got her on the phone. That was the last time she had begged to go back home. Never again did she ask. After graduating she had remained in Europe and then applied for the necessary visas for her to stay in France to work.

Michael’s voice brought her back to the present. “I don’t know anything about this Crescent Moon Pack though. I can ask Mike, see if he knows anything about them”.

Luna looked up at Michael, giving him a small tired smile. “I think our first priority should be trying to find this artefact Lyulf wants. Then we can ask Mike”.

Thoughts spilled across Michael’s face. “Good idea but I haven’t got a clue what this artefact is or where to start looking for it”.

Looking up at the wall, an idea sprang to mind. “What about the safe? Would it be in there?”

Thankfully Michael knew the combination to the safe. “Dad gave it to me when I took over from Jerry as Beta”, he had explained. Looking inside there was nothing extraordinary, nothing that jumped out and screamed magical object. Instead, there were just two journals, the worn leather obviously old and soft to the touch. A glint of silver from the back caught their eyes. Reaching in, Michael pulled out a small key.

The shrill of a phone made both of them jump. Michael broke into the biggest grin when he answered.
The only time he ever smiles like that is when he’s talking to a girl he wants to get into bed
, Luna thought, shaking her head at him.

Whilst Michael was chatting softly on the phone, Luna turned her attention back on the key. What did it open? It had to be something important otherwise it wouldn’t be in the safe. There was nothing to distinguish it, but its size suggested that it opened something small, like a jewellery box.

Soft chuckles caught her attention. A massive grin covered his face, his eyes animated. “Sis, that was one of my pack members. She’s offered to nurse me back to health. After all, an alpha should be looked after”, he said. “Can you start searching and I’ll help you in a bit? After
I’ve
had a bit, of course.”

Luna looked at her brother in disgust. “You’ve been in a car crash, attacked by a fairy, we have some kind of artefact to find, there’s a creature out in the woods that looks like it’s a horror movie reject and then been ambushed by a flock of crazy birds and you want to go out to get laid? Sometimes I wonder if we’re really related to each other”.

Michael just laughed at her. “Don’t be such a prude. Besides, Angel is hot. She transferred from another pack back west a few months ago and she’s been trying to get into my boxers since then. Think tonight I’ll finally let her take my pulse and see if she can do something to my temperature”. Luna watched him as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively but she just shook her head at him.

“Fine, fine, you pervert. You go but you need to be back first thing to help me. We don’t have time for you to be lounging around in bed with anyone. You need to help me”. Pausing for breath, and the words that would actually get through to Michael now he had the promise of sex, Luna’s phone shrilled. Pulling it out, the screen told her it was Pierre calling.

“Salut, Pierre”, she said.

“Luna, my little love, I have the information you seek but there is a price”.

“Oh?” she asked, slipping the key into her jeans pocket.

“Oui. You must let me take you for dinner when you return otherwise I shall not give it to you”.

A warm smile spread across her face, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I think I can just about afford that price. What have you found out?”

For a moment Luna thought they had lost their connection for the silence on the phone was drawn out but then Pierre’s honeyed voice came back. “I spoke to Adam as soon as we hung up and he seemed shocked there was a painting of Lyulf in your parent’s house. He is an early character in Celtic mythology, ancient, even by ancient standards.

“Legends tell that Lyulf was the grandson of the creator goddess, Eiocha, who fashioned both humans and giants from the bark of a tree. The humans worshipped the gods who would then reward them for their devotion. Sometimes it was a bountiful harvest, sometimes it was an enchanted weapon or even being granted their blessing when clans went to war.

“Thousands of years ago, long before the birth of Christ, the king of one clan wanted to go to war and asked for the god’s blessing. He was refused and became angry with the gods. He ordered his men ready and marched towards the enemy’s lands. The two clans fought each other, soaking the land in the blood of their fallen soldiers. Eventually, the king faced the leader of his enemy and they began fighting with each other. The fight went on for a long time, with neither king overcoming the other. After so long, exhaustion had weakened the enemy and the king plunged a dagger in his stomach, before ripping his throat out with his teeth.

“The battle was over, but the loss of life had been great. The gods mourned for the amount of death and so Eiocha went to the king, demanding that he make amends for the savagery. But he refused to do so. In anger, Eiocha transformed him into a wolf. She told him he could transform back into a human only when he had performed enough good deeds.

“No one knows exactly what happened next or what deeds he performed, but after seven years the goddess returned and partially removed the curse, allowing him to transform into a wolf on the nights of the full moon. The king married and had children, with the eldest child sharing in his father’s abilities”.

Luna gasped. “The first werewolves”.

“That’s right. The first werewolves were born. The dagger the king had used to kill his enemy with was full of power, a symbol of what he was. Eventually, there were a number of werewolves in ancient Ireland and Britain. They possessed great magic and equal strength, often helping the gods and the Fae with tasks. One Fae wanted the magic of the werewolves for himself, so that he could rule over the land and the humans without the interference of his brethren”.

“Lyulf?” Luna asked, barely noticing the door closing behind her. Michael had left.

“Oui. Lyulf ordered the werewolves to submit to him. With the power of the werewolf king, the alpha, he could control the wolves. Somehow he managed to possess the dagger, and the wolves had no choice but to obey him. The lands were drenched in blood, the rivers ran red and the human population dwindled. Lyulf was betrayed by his wife, Halfryta, who convinced the other Fae to stop him before he killed the entire world. A trap was set, Lyulf was captured, his powers imprisoned within him. His power was inside him, it couldn’t be removed, but they were able to cut him off from it, as it were. Lyulf was banished and was never heard from again.

“The alpha died soon afterwards, but not before he entrusted his son with the task of hiding the dagger from potential danger. There was always the possibility that Lyulf, or another like him, would return and steal the magic for themselves. Agreeing, his son took the dagger and it was never seen again, preventing another blood bath”.

Pierre paused. “The wolves fled in all directions across the world. Stories are found throughout Europe of humans being able to transform into wolves when the full moon rises. There are even stories of a tall, silver-haired man searching, searching for something that will make him strong once more. Adam tells me the last time Lyulf was painted was in fifteenth century Russia. He wishes to see this painting of yours, Luna. He would like to see your Lyulf”.