Moon Child (The Year of the Wolf #2) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,91
me, I realized. Made me forget. Made me see only him. It wasn’t right, but that didn’t make it untrue.
“Something’s wrong,” he rasped, his head twisting to the left and right like he was trying to pick up on something, like the antenna he was using was wonky and didn’t work.
“What is it?” I whispered, concerned because he was concerned.
“I think your sister’s pack is being attacked.” He frowned, then his nostrils did that flaring thing again. “Hyenas.”
When I pulled against his hold, terror filling me as I thought about my days trapped in my cabin with one of those lunatics after me, he grabbed a firmer hold of my shoulders, but this time, when he looked into my eyes, he rasped, “You need to make a decision, Lara. You need to understand, and the only way I can give you that is if you freely accept my gift.
“Once you do, once you know, you’ll understand more than you can say. This fight was destined. You’re the one who’ll end it.”
My mouth trembled, fear filling me at his surety. “I’m not the Moon Child.”
“You are,” he stated, his tone resolute, leaving me no room for doubt. “Now it’s time to ascend.”
Fifteen
Sabina
Letting me see through her eyes was the most helpful and least helpful thing Berry could have done.
Berry. Merinda. Whoever the fuck she was.
Like she heard me, she rumbled in my head, “Yours. To shield. To protect. Berry. Not Merinda. Not anymore.”
My throat grew tight at that, because I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe it so badly.
And maybe seeing through her eyes, having that connection reestablished confirmed that truth. Why would I be given this gift if we weren’t bound to one another?
Maybe Merinda was here for one reason only—to make up for being a shitty mom by protecting the one woman who could make her sons’ lives better?
Regardless, now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. Not when I was witnessing the carnage for myself, which was a nightmare I’d never forget.
It was like something from a nature program, a documentary that David Attenborough should be narrating, but these weren’t animals with the instincts of beasts. These were human.
And that made it infinitely more terrifying.
I was blind to the world around me as I stared out into the sea of blood and bones, torn flesh and viscera that had my she-wolf longing to leap into the action. Knight gurgled in my arms, grounding me in a sense, but I was still torn between the balcony and the totem circle.
When Berry whipped around, I saw Eli—larger than anyone else, even Austin and Ethan, who were massive but just a tad smaller—with several hyenas clinging onto him like ivy, with their teeth digging into his flesh to hook into him, while another tried to attack him from the front, and I screamed with fright at the sight, because he couldn’t sustain that…could he?
He moved, uncaring that he was carrying dead weight, but the way blood spurted from his wounds made me wish I had healing capabilities. But, Kali Sara, if I could wish for anything, it would be for the means of stopping this.
A dream had saved Lara.
Somehow, my dream and her reality had entangled.
Was I dreaming now?
I wished I was.
But the scents toying with the air told me I wasn’t.
This was the real world, and no magical bow and arrow were going to stop this.
Eli roared his rage, jerking forward and then back, jolting some of the horrendous creatures into letting go, but as he twisted around, lashing out with his claws, slicing throats, making arcs of crimson rain down around him, Berry moved.
“No!” I screamed, just as she howled, a howl that felt as though it was keyed into my very being. Like when someone was trying to tune a piano. We made music together of the worst variety.
She darted through the crowds and focused on a woman.
I squinted at the sight of her, my fear and concern coalescing into stunned shock as I recognized her.
The same caramel skin, the same espresso hair. We were walking mugs of coffee, all of the Krasowski sisters had been, but her Klisowski—our mother’s side—was more prevalent in her, with her skin that was just a shade darker, her hair had some toffee notes to it, buttery highlights that augmented her high cheekbones. She had our mother’s eyes and our father’s nose, but what I couldn’t understand was her presence.