Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,27

in this grid.

The bottom of the circular quarry was a lake. And this was to our massive advantage. The grid entry point was into the water. From the lake base, tiers rose up steep and fast for one hundred and fifty metres like an amphitheatre for giants. The result was a vertical height nearly three times the height of sandstone.

The Luthers had never taken Iron from us.

I couldn’t lose this grid today, or I’d lose standing with the stewards in a big way.

“Andie?”

Focus. That’s what I had to do.

But how could I after what I read last night?

He was bitten in Timber two weeks ago. By one of them. At first, he didn’t think anything of it, especially when the new moon came and went. But last week, he started to feel different.

An aching body. Changes in his voice. Fatigue.

Panic cloyed my throat.

I didn’t say anything, but sometimes, if I mention telling others, he gets angry and his eyes go dark.

I’d read her mounting terror as Murphy displayed more and more signs of an imminent shift. Anger. Outbursts. Growls and snarls.

The last entry helped me figure out much of the rest.

We’re leaving. We can’t tell a soul. Herc won’t understand. He’ll cast us out.

The Luthers hate my family. No one will help us. We need to go.

Murphy is leaving on a delivery tomorrow. I’ll leave the day after while Herc’s in meetings. Nothing could part me from this valley but Murphy.

I’ll hide these journals with the hope that one day we’ll return to our home. One day, when the game is over.

Brother. Savannah. And my little niece, Andie.

I love you all so much.

I fear you all so much.

My heart is breaking.

Goodbye.

She’d said goodbye to me, so she didn’t intend to steal me at that point. So what changed?

Someone shook my shoulder roughly.

Jerking, I looked into Rhona’s eyes. “What?”

“Where are you? I’ve been calling your name.”

I’m turning into a Luther. “Sorry, I’m trying to think whether we missed anything.”

She scrutinised me. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Maybe?”

Rhona grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know,” I retorted sharply. “I will.”

Her brows shot up. “Alright, keep your hair on.”

“Sorry, just tired. What can I help you with?”

She released my arm. “Came to tell you that everyone is prepared, and they completed the new manoeuvres without issue.”

“Thank you. How’s the training going?”

She hummed. “Good. Really good. But it doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough.”

Gripping her hand, I squeezed. “You’re helping more than you know. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

“It’s just—”

“Andie,” Wade hollered. “Speech!”

The chant was taken up on the muddy shore of the lake. I sucked in a breath at the assault on my ears.

My really sensitive ears.

Tears pricked my eyes. Something was happening to my body. I was becoming something I hated.

The new moon passed. I thought I was safe.

Sascha said biting didn’t make werewolves.

Rhona would never forgive me for my part in Herc’s death, and the stewards wouldn’t trust me if they knew about the mating call with Sascha. But a werewolf leader?

I might not understand so much about Ragna’s decisions, but I understood why she ran instead of staying.

Hate ran deep. And it would turn on me. Without doubt.

I couldn’t even tell Wade.

No one.

Mum always dated her journals, and I spent the hours before dawn figuring out what phase of the moon Murphy was bitten during. Waning Gibbous. Just after the full moon. They left before he actually changed. The speck of desperate hope in my heart wanted to believe that meant nothing ever happened.

But then why didn’t they return?

No. Murphy changed alright. Then he came back to explain everything to Herc.

And Herc killed him.

I’d reasoned that my father wouldn’t hurt a human, but I’d seen first-hand he had no qualms about killing Luthers.

I climbed atop a rock with Billy’s help.

Eager faces stared up at me. One thousand of them.

I was an imposter.

A fraud.

A letdown.

I had to leave them. And they’d never know why.

From Murphy’s timeline, new werewolves didn’t shift at the new moon when they had the least power. I felt stupid for missing it.

The sun gave Luthers their power.

The full moon would be my last day as a human.

“Stewards,” I said, pitching my voice higher. “Naatira Thana said something on the cusp of a battle in this grid one hundred years ago, and during my readings on tribe history, her words have stuck with me. I say them for you now. Flow fast water, flow down valleys and roads. Flood everything,