Moon Child (The Year of the Wolf #2) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,7

were weak, they’d stop. They’d leave

But we weren’t weak.

My men were strong. Powerful. And that was clear as the three of them took down the males and females who’d once helped counsel this pack.

My faith in them was such that I didn’t even feel fear over the knowledge that if one of them died, that was it for me. I was done. My life would be over too. Knight would be left alone, as, like a tumbling house of cards, my other mates would pass over shortly after me…

Those thoughts were unnecessary. A needless waste of energy for there was no need for fear. None whatsoever.

As I viewed the carnage, I was overwhelmed by just how little terror I felt.

When it was over, I shuddered, disturbed by the loss of life, the waste of it, the wreckage, and when the image disappeared, I knew Berry and I were in accord—the challenge was done.

Over.

I loved her for giving me that sense of security, for helping me, even when I hadn’t known I needed help, and even though it was crazy—even though I’d question my sanity later on—to the sounds of my men clearing up the mess they’d made, I fell asleep. The lack of turbulent energy in me didn’t last however. My slumber?

Full of dreams.

Full of questions in need of answers.

The cackle set my nerves on edge.

It was like nothing I’d ever heard before. Nothing I could ever imagine hearing again.

It wasn’t amused, wasn’t even jovial. It was wicked and evil. Bestial. It shivered along my spine, making all the tiny hairs on my body stand on edge.

It was creepy and haunting, and I twisted around, trying to find the source.

I was, I saw, in a forest.

A forest that wasn’t the one I’d come to call my home.

Berry wasn’t with me. I was alone, and it had been such a long time since I’d been that, that for a second, I panicked. My heart pounded, and when I felt nauseated, I peered down, plopping my hands on my knees, only to realize the growing baby bump wasn’t there.

Fear hit me, terror swirled inside my blood, making me feel like I was being poisoned… Then, just as my heartbeat started to rush in my ears, because I knew this was only a dream and my baby was safe, I heard it again.

It split through the blood rush, making even that seem quiet.

I whipped around, my skirt billowing in the wind, and out of nowhere, like what had happened in the other realm, I found a bow lopped over my shoulder, a quiver of arrows in my hand.

I stared at both items and realized that I needed to kill whatever was making that sound.

The Mother had granted me the weapon for a reason, and even though I didn’t understand why she did what she did, I wasn’t going to question why.

Sucking in a breath as I loaded the arrow, I positioned myself, I found my body fell into the natural balance that came after years of practicing shooting the damn thing at the carnivals I’d worked at, and I waited.

I had no alternative but to do that.

I had no idea where the sound came from, which direction or from what. There were no clues. It seemed to blanket the clearing where I stood, making the shadows seem darker, longer. Harder. Denser.

Hearing the rushing of feet, I grunted, taking note of the heavy tread of a creature running, and as I whipped around, I released the bow.

The cackle came to a halt mid screech, and I felt the atmosphere lighten.

As my arrow settled into the creature’s hide, my heart stopped pounding, and I was released from wherever the hell I was, whenever the hell I was, and allowed to drift away.

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by my mates once more. They’d cleaned up, but a few flecks of blood remained on them. Maybe invisible to the human eye, but not to mine, and not to my nose.

While the odor should have been muted by the soap they’d used, I could smell the council on their bodies. Three clashing scents should have diminished the stench, but it remained pungent.

And I knew why.

Death. That was what I smelled.

Industrial-grade soap wouldn’t wash that away immediately…

I savored life.

Unafraid though I was to protect myself, to sow death where it was required, I celebrated creation in all its guises, abhorring destruction.

I moved a hand down to my stomach, relieved to feel my child’s reassuring kick against