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The entire Moon Chosen series in one complete package!
Twelve kidnapped women, a strange curse, and dark, sensual cravings entwine the strange island on the lake.
Sophia is torn from her home and shoved into a dark world of intrigue and sensual desire that finds her blood-bound to a handsome but cold young man. Her only thought is to escape, but as she learns more about the island and its inhabitants she realizes she may be too deep into the rabbit-hole to ever flee from the wolves
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Copyright
Author’s Note
Moon Chosen #1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Moon Chosen #2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Moon Chosen #3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Moon Chosen #4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Moon Chosen #5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Moon Chosen #6
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Moon Chosen #7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Sneak Peek: The Alpha Mated Series
A Small Favor
When’s the Next Book?
Series by Mac Flynn
About Mac Flynn
Moon Chosen Box Set (Werewolf Shifter Romance). Copyright © 2019 by Mac Flynn.
Published by Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, disseminated, or transmitted in any form or by any or for any use, including recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author and/or artist. The only except ions shirt excerpts or the cover image in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel or on the cover are either products of the author’s or artist’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or artist.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for joining me on a journey through my imagination. If you’re looking for romance and adventure with a guaranteed Happily Ever After, then you’ve come to the right place. My books contain paranormal plotting and fantastical action, and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.
* * *
You can keep in touch with me by joining my newsletter or checking out my website for the latest updates.
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Thank you for giving my book a chance, and Happy Reading!
- Mac Flynn
I awoke to a place that was dark, filthy, and crowded.
My confused, fuzzy mind tried to comprehend what was the matter. This wasn’t my small, dank apartment in my rough neighborhood, nor was it the large department store in which I worked. No, this was somewhere else, somewhere horrible and frightening.
I tried to sit up, but I grew lightheaded and swayed. My shoulder knocked into the leg of another person.
“Watch it!” a woman’s voice hissed.
“She didn’t mean to,” another voice spoke up. Again, it was a woman who spoke.
I forced my eyes open and beheld a dark, cramped holding car much like a boxcar, but half the size. There were slats near the top to allow for ventilation and some light from the dark night sky beyond the little prison. Benches sat two feet off the dirty floor and were on three sides of the rectangular space. The fourth side, one of the ones that comprised the short end of the car, appeared to be made of two metal doors that swung outward. I lay on the dirty ground at the far end opposite the doors and in front of one of the benches.
On the benches and the floor sat a dozen women counting myself. In the dim light I glimpsed their wide, frightened eyes. Their ages ranged from the mid teens to early thirties, and their clothes were as different as their ages. Some wore jeans and shirts, others were clothed in dress pants and blouses. Some wore glasses, and others didn’t. A few were beautiful, some were plain like me, but none were what I’d called unattractive.
I tried to shift my legs, but there came a metallic scraping sound and something arrested my movements. I glanced down at my ankles and saw I was shackled. My wrists were likewise attached to one another, but at least they were locked in front of me. I ground my teeth together and shook the wooziness out of my head.
“Where. . .where am I?” I asked the women.
“Hell,” a nearby woman quipped. I recognized her voice as the one I’d angered. She had long, dark brown hair and narrow, dark eyes.
“You’re not making things better for any of us saying that, Carey,” a woman near her scolded her. That was the second woman I’d heard earlier.
“Why should I care about everyone else? I don’t know any of you. All we’ve done is give our first names,” Carey snapped.
I tried to stand, but the holding car suddenly jumped as though it hit a bump. I tipped over and fell into the arms of the friendly woman. “Easy there. The stuff they gave you is just wearing off,” she told me.
“‘Stuff?’” I repeated.
The woman smiled. “You’re really out of it, aren’t you? Do you remember your first name?”
“What does it matter? They’re probably taking us somewhere where they can kill us all,” Carey argued.
The woman who held me glared at Carey. “It matters to put names with faces just in case we need to help each other.” She returned her attention to me and squeezed me between herself and a young girl of sixteen. “I’m Briana, but you can call me Bree. What’s yours?”
I clutched my aching head in my hand and scrunched my eyes shut. “Sophia, but where are we?” I persisted.
Bree shrugged. “In this boxcar driving somewhere. It’s been like that for a few hours. Ever since the first of us woke up.”
I swept my eyes over the long, haggard faces of the others. “How’d we get here?”
“Probably the same way you did. What do you last remember?” Bree asked me.
I furrowed my brow and grimaced. “I. . .I remember having a drink after work, and this guy comes up and offers to buy me one. He-” My eyes widened when I recalled what happened next. “He put something in my drink! He drugged me and pulled me outside, and then. . .and then-”
Bree nodded. “And then you woke up here. That’s pretty much the same story everybody else told. Well, most everybody.” She leaned back and looked at the young woman beside me. My right-side companion was small and thin with short hair and a shy face. I realized the girl’s shoulders shook, and the soft sound of crying reached my ears. She was bent forward and her face was in her manacled hands.
I tried to wrap my arm around her shoulders, but my shackles constrained me. I had to settle with setting a hand on her arm. “You okay?” I whispered.
“Don’t mind her. She’s been balling since she woke up,” Carey spoke up.
Bree whipped her head to Carey and glared at her. “You’d be crying your eyes out, too, if you were stolen off the street going home after school,” she snapped.
I leaned forward and squeezed her arm. “What’s your name?” I asked her.
She raised her head and revealed tear-streaked cheeks and a cute, but young, face. “L-Lillian,” she replied.
I smiled. “That’s a pretty name. I’m Sophia.”
Lillian wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks and straightened a little. “That’s a nice name, too,” she told me.
“I could just barf,” Carey spoke up.
“Don’t. Those slats up there aren’t that great at getting air down here,” Bree pointed out.
I stood and leaned my back against the metal wall to steady myself against bumps. I inspected the slats. They stood eight feet off the ground, and a thin screen covered their six-inch openings. My desperate mind conjured up a desperate plan.
“I think some of us can fit through there if the others give them a boost,” I suggested.
Carey looked me over and snorted. “You’d better not be considering you for the top.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. I wasn’t slim. My hips were wide, my belly flabby, and my breasts were too big for this escape. I was plump, and plump wouldn’t get me out of this terrifying ordeal. The rest of me, my long dark-brown hair and frumpy clothes, suited me, but still wouldn’t help.
“I’m not, but Lillian and a few of the others might be able to fit through,” I insisted.
My bold idea caught the attention of the other car occupants. They raised their heads and looked at one another, sizing each other up for possible escape.
“Right. And what will they do when they squeeze out? Get squished by truck wheels?” Carey retorted.
“They can find help,” Bree spoke up. She rose to her feet shoulder to shoulder with me and smiled at me. “It’s not a bad plan, and it’s a hell of a lot better than staying here to see what’s at the end of this ugly rainbow.”
Unfortunately, we didn’t get a chance to try out my crazy scheme. Our momentum slowed as someone applied the brakes to the truck. The car rocked to and fro, and Bree and I fell back into our seats. The truck parked and the engine was shut off. We inside the car held our breath, but voices came from in front and on the sides of our little prison. Male voices.
“How many you manage to dig up this time?” a gruff voice asked someone.
“A full dozen, just as you ordered,” another, meeker voice replied.
“And they better not be ugly or I’ll make you uglier,” the first voice warned the other man.
“Of course not, sir. They’re all very pretty, healthy young ladies.” The voices moved to the rear of the car.
Another even crazier idea came to my mind. I glanced at Bree and saw her eyes followed the voices like mine. I jerked my head towards the rear of the truck. My girth couldn’t help me for my first plan, but it was an asset for my second. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I whispered.
“I’ll get the right door, you get the left,” she replied.
We shuffled towards the exit just as we heard a metal bar removed from the doors. “I’ll be the judge of what’s pretty and what’s-” The man didn’t get to finish his sentence before the doors swung open.
Bree and I flung ourselves into the unknown. That turned out to be the two talkers at the head of a half dozen other, hairy men.
“Yeehaw!” Bree yelled as we dove into their midst.
Our surprise attack did the trick. We crashed into the men, and they dropped like bowling pins before a bowling ball. Bree and I bit, clawed, and kicked at our captors. They couldn’t get a grasp on our flopping legs and swinging arms.
The other women rushed out after us, but rather than help they sprinted off in all directions. Their shackled legs didn’t get them far because the expiration date on Bree and my tentative distraction expired. The men managed to snatch the chains that connected our manacled wrists and pull us off our kicking feet. They lifted us off the ground and gave time for their brethren to stand.
One of the men, a large, burly-looking fellow with close-set eyes and greasy black hair, pointed at our fleeing companions. “Get them back here and on the boat!” he ordered them.
For the first time I got a view of where we were, and was confused. Our little group and holding truck sat at the edge of a forest filled with tall, ancient pine trees. Thick brush obscured the trunks and disallowed travel between the trees. The tops of the trees stretched into the night sky and obscured much of the clear, starlit ceiling. Nothing moved in the shadows, and the only noises were of the women screaming as they were recaptured. Our female companions were dragged or carried to the front of the truck.
The burly man marched up to Bree and me, and glared at us with his narrowed eyes. “Dumb bitches. Thought you could just get away like that, huh?” He snapped his finger in front of Bree’s face, and she cringed away from him.
“Leave her alone,” I ordered him.
The man turned his ugly eyes on me, and a sly, lecherous grin slipped onto his wet lips. He grabbed my chin between his fingers and chuckled. The sound sent chills down my spine, and his breath made me gag. “You’ve got some spirit here, huh? Well, your mate will break you of that.” He stepped back and jerked his head over his shoulder to the front of the truck. “Take them with the rest of them.”
A muddy dirt road behind the truck showed where we had traveled, and a large boat in front showed how much farther we had to go. The boat sat at the end of a long wooden dock whose planks were half-rotten with age and neglect. The dock stretched out into the waters of a large lake. It was impossible to tell how large was the body of water because of the fog that covered most of its opposite shores. Its shores were filled with large rocks, and trees crowded in behind the rocks. The branches of submerged trees stuck out of the water as though pleading for help from a wet demise. In the distance, silhouetted by the light of a pale moon, I could see the shadow of a large island.
The boat was the size of a small yacht and of the general shape, but with all the extravagance torn away. The belly of the beast was a mess of peeling paint and lake life. The windows, what few I could see, were grimy and cracked. There was a crooked railing on the deck, and ropes hung off the sides in haphazard fashion. There were no life boats, and the whole thing smelled of seaweed and diesel.
There were two planks onto the boat. The higher one led onto the deck, and another pointed down to a tall hatch where lay the cargo hold. We were shoved and carried across the lower plank into the bowels of the decrepit vessel. It was a dark, dank hold smaller than the boxcar and without windows or artificial light. I don’t know how our captors could see in such darkness, but they had no trouble lining us up along the wall. They slammed our rears and backs against the walls, and left us. The opening closed and the light completely vanished.
“Any more bright ideas?” Carey quipped.
“Yeah. Don’t give up hope,” I retorted.
I heard someone shout above deck, and the boat rocked and moved forward as we continued on our terrifying journey to the unknown.
I heard a sniffle from the wall opposite me. “Lillian, you okay?” I whispered. The oppressive darkness demanded quiet voices.
“I. . .I want to go home,” she whimpered.
I pushed off the wall and fell forward onto my knees. I couldn’t see where I was going, but Lillian’s sniffles meant I didn’t have to. My knees warned me of splinters and loose nails, but I ignored its complaints and shuffled across the planks and over to Lillian. I leaned my head gently against hers.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I asked her.
I felt her shake her head. “N-no.”
“So what do we do now?” Bree spoke up. There was silence among our small, shivering group. “Sophie?”
I leaned away from Lillian and frowned. “What?”
“What do we do?”
“How should I know?”
“Because you’ve got more spunk than the rest of us. Our only plan’s been for just sitting here and waiting to see what’s going to happen,” Bree pointed out.
I pursed my lips together and shrugged. “Yeah, well, much good it did us,” I quipped.
“We’re not there yet,” she countered.
“You guys are idiots,” Carey spoke up.
“Thinking of something is better than trying nothing,” Bree shot back.
“Did you even take a look at those guys? They’re huge, and they’re not going to just let us stroll off this boat and back home,” she argued.
A heavy foot rapped the ceiling overhead. “Shut up in there!” came the voice of our lead captor.
Carey resumed her argument, but in a quieter voice. “See? They’re even listening now. We don’t have a chance against them, so the best thing to do is shut up and take it.”
I sighed. “She’s right.”
“Come on, don’t give up on me now,” Bree pleaded.
“We’re on a boat, and our hands and feet are tied. That means we can’t swim, and we can’t beat those guys with just our teeth,” I pointed out.
I heard Bree growl. “So we just wait here and see what happens?”
Lillian whimpered beside me. “And we stick together,” I added.
“Good luck with that. . .” Carey mumbled.
The mood over our little group was gloomy. The only interruption to our silence was a stifled sniffle or two from our fellow captives. I sat in the middle of the floor and felt the waves of the lake rock beneath our boat. Above us tramped the heavy boots of our captors like jailers marching in step to an oppressive beat.
All I could think about was the burly man’s cold eyes, and the strange, dark island in the distance. I never doubted that was our destination. What better place to take a group of kidnapped women than a deserted island? Perhaps they would sell us to slave traders, or have their way with us and toss our lifeless bodies beyond the rocks and into the deep depths of the lake. I shuddered. Best not to think about that.
After a long time, maybe a half hour, maybe two hours, the speed of the boat slowed. The footsteps moved to the side of the boat and I heard shouts. My fellow captives coiled into themselves. The herd mentality overtook me and I, too, cringed. My one anchor of courage was Lillian. She leaned against me and shivered. I couldn’t show my fear. Not when I had to give courage to this scared young girl.
“We’ll stick together no matter what,” I promised her.
Her reply was a slight slackening of her quivering. The voices above us grew louder and the boat knocked into something firm. The boots clamored down their plank, and in a moment our door swung open. The burly man from before stepped inside and his men followed him.
“Take them single-file to the holding cells,” he ordered them.
The holding cells. Such a name didn’t dampen the terror that quaked in our hearts. The other women screamed and pleaded as they were taken one at a time through the tall hatch.
“Please let me go!”
“I won’t tell anybody!”
Their pleas fell on deaf ears. I was tossed over the shoulder of one of these foul-smelling men and carried outside and up a plank. The boat was parked on a new pier. This one was in better condition with new, freshly sealed boards. There was another boat at the dock. That one was smaller than the cargo one and painted completely black with fresh paint. It had two large motors on the back and its pointed bow spoke of speed.
The men carried us down the pier to the shore. I twisted and glanced over my shoulder. The tall cliffs of the dark island loomed above us. I could see specks of light on the far right side of the island, but the rising sun blotted out most of them. Ahead of us at the end of the dock was a dirt path that wound its way up the rocky front of the island. Squat pine trees crowded the trail, and on either side of the path were small, round holders in which burned candles. The top of the path was hidden from my view by a ledge.
At the end of the trail we women were dropped onto our feet and forced to march up the hill. Without our hands for balance we stumbled and fell. The men pulled us up by our collars and pushed us along. I could see Bree and Lillian ahead of me. Lillian stumbled more than the others and she shrank whenever her man grabbed her and pulled her to her feet.
We reached the top of the hill fifteen minutes later. The path flattened for ten yards before it ended at a stone building set into the rocky mountain. The thick steel door was opened and revealed a long, wide hallway that had been carved into the hill. The rough walls were a mixture of primitive concrete and stone, and the floors were uneven. Torches hung from the right-hand wall and lit the way, and between the lights were smaller doors. There were tiny openings in the upper half of the doors that were covered with sliding slats of wood. Metal bars lay over the center and acted as primitive locks.
A new group of men greeted us. They were dressed in cloaks of fine, green-colored silk and wore bowled helmets on their heads. Thick pants covered their legs, and they wore leather boots on their feet. Their faces were clean-cut. They had swarthy faces like those who herded us and their hair was long, but tied behind their backs.
The barbarian men pushed us inside and the new men sneered at our captors. One of the men stepped forward. His helmet sported a round yellow circle on the front.
“How many?” he asked the burly man.
“A dozen, just like was ordered,” the burly man replied.
The circle man glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod to his men. They opened the doors to the cells and I saw there was exactly a dozen rooms. The barbarians pushed us forward, and Lillian, exhausted and scared, cried out in fear and fell. The burly man grabbed her hair and pulled her up, but her tired, shackled legs couldn’t gather enough energy to help her stand.
“On your feet!” he growled.
I don’t know what happened. Maybe I was too damned tired of all this torture, or maybe I was just too damned tired to care. Either way I broke from my beast man, leapt forward and jumped onto the man’s back. I swung my arms over his head and yanked them back so my manacle chain pressed against his throat. Then I leaned back and pulled my arms against me.
The effect was to cut off the man’s air supply. He dropped Lillian’s hair and grabbed my chain. My weak strength was no match for his. He flung me over his head and I landed hard on my back. The air was knocked out of me, and before I could recover a shadow fell over me. It was the burly man. He tore a wooden club wrapped in leather from his belt.
He pulled back the club to bring it down on me. “I don’t care what the count needs do be. This is the last time I deal with you,” he growled.
“What’s going on here?” a voice questioned. It was a clear, firm voice that commanded attention. The burly man hesitated. A man stepped from the new group. He was tall with black hair and dark eyes. On his helmet was another round yellow circle, and his cloak was pinned with the same symbol. He was thinner than the others, but still had long hair. His sharp eyes swept over the scene and his gaze stopped on the burly man. He still had his arm raised over me. “Well?”
The burly man lowered his arm and glared at the new man. “I was teaching one of these women how to respect the men,” he explained.
“That’s for their mate to perform, not you,” the new man bit back.
The burly man nodded at me. “This girl is trouble. She’s already tried to escape once.”
“That still doesn’t give you the right to discipline her,” the cloaked man shot back. His eyes fell on me. “Stand up.”
I sat up and frowned at him. “Where the hell are we?” I asked him.
“Those are questions to be asked later. Now stand and enter your cell,” he ordered me.
“No.” I stood and firmly planted my feet on the uneven cobblestones. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me and everybody else what the hell we’re doing here and when we can go home.”
“Very well,” the man replied. He turned to the first helmeted one. His underling nodded and strode over to me. He swung me over his shoulder and carried me into the nearest cell.
“Let me down!” I screamed.
The man obeyed my orders to the letter when he dropped me onto a bed of prickly straw. He exited the cell and shut the door behind me. I sat up and heard the other women cry out. Their cries were followed by more shut doors. The slats in the doors were opened, but from my position I couldn’t see anyone beyond them.
“You will remain here until tomorrow night,” came the voice of the lead ‘clean’ party. “Then you will be part of the Choosing, and will be given in marriage to a fitting husband.”
“Like hell we will!” I heard Bree shout.
“Hell or heaven, it will be so,” the man argued. “The blood chooses the best mate for you. If he won’t suit you then no one, man or werewolf, will do. Now get some rest. You have new lives waiting for you tomorrow night.”
The slat was closed on my door and the rest, and the men marched down the rocky tunnel. I heard boots leave in the opposite direction, the one through which we’d entered, and all was silence.
“Fuck,” I heard Bree mutter.
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Carey quipped.
“Shut up,” Bree growled.
“Come on, guys. Now’s not the time to fight,” I called from my cell. “Maybe we can find a way out.”
I sat up and looked around my small prison. It was a seven by five rectangular room with stone walls and the wooden door. The ceiling was seven feet above me. All the walls were solidly built. I couldn’t even see a rat hole, not that there was much light to see by. The only source was from the torches, and they created only a glimmer that shone beneath the door.
“I’m not seeing anything. What little I can see,” Bree shouted to me.
“Why don’t you two girl scouts just give up?” Carey insisted. “We’re not getting out of these cells until they take us to get picked or whatever it was.”
“Chosen,” Bree corrected her.
“Whatever. All it means is their selling us as slaves to some fat, balding, rich guy who will have his way with us,” Carey replied.
“Sophia?” Lillian’s quiet voice interrupted us.
That sounded like the cell next to mine. I shuffled over to the wall and placed my hands on the cold stones. “Yeah, Lillian?”
“Are they. . .will they really do that?”
I leaned my forehead against the rocks and sighed. “I don’t know, but I do know that whatever happens we all have to try to escape. No matter where we go, we have to keep trying.”
“Never give up, never surrender? Please, that sounds so stupid,” Carey retorted.
“Not as stupid as your giving up,” Bree argued.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see who’s stupid tomorrow. In the meantime I’m going to get my beauty’s sleep. If there are rich men waiting to buy us than I’m going to make sure I get sold to the richest,” she quipped. Her voice fell silent.
“Sophie, we’d better think of something fast tomorrow when they open these doors,” Bree told me.
“We’ll all try to, but right now I think Carey’s right. We need to get some strength back or it won’t matter what we think of,” I suggested.
“All right. Sleep well, if you can,” Bree replied.
I lay my back down on the pile of hay and winced when the dry stalks poked me in the back. “Yeah, if I can. . .” I muttered.
My thoughts wandered to what the man had told us. Marriage, mates, werewolves. It all sounded so ridiculous, so insane. I wondered if we’d been trapped by a colony of syphilis-laden men who intended to have one last thrall before they died of the disease.
I pursed my lips and rolled onto my side. My active imagination was darkly influenced by my dreary surroundings. I needed sleep, rest, and a bite to eat. Maybe in a few hours I would think of something.
It turned out that being kidnapped and dragged to a god-forsaken island had an exhausting effect on the body, or perhaps there was something more than hay in our beds. I lay my head on the scratchy straw and fell immediately to sleep.
What awoke me was the march of boots. The feet vibrated through the floor and into my head. I opened my eyes and sat up. Around me were the same four stone walls, and beyond the door was the march of the boots. The metal bar on my door slid aside and the entrance opened along with those of the other girls. One of the cloaked men stood on the other side, and behind him I saw more of his companions pull my fellow captives down the hall in the direction of the hill.
He swept inside and knelt in from of me. In his hand was a key, and he soon released me from my manacles. My wrists and ankles were bruised and rubbed raw by the confines. Once freed, the man grabbed my arm and with one clean yank he pulled me off the straw and into the hallway. We were near the end of the group that marched forward to a large door at the end of the passage. I was relieved to see Lillian ahead of me, and that she had strength enough to walk on her own. Through the door was a winding stone stairway that wrapped around a column of chiseled rock. The stairs led up and down. We were dragged upward over countless steps. I grew dizzy with the winding steps and was relieved when we reached a flat landing. The stairs kept going, but we were marched onto a wide stone hall. This hall, too, was lit with torches, but there were far more than in the lower passage.
The new hallway led to the left and right, and at both ends it joined other passages that ran in perpendicular directions. Far down to our right and left I glimpsed pane-glass windows set in arched borders. The view showed a bright full moon in the dark night sky.
A pair of large wooden doors sat on the opposite wall to us. The sounds of revelry drifted through the doors. There was laughter and talk, and even the clatter of mugs against one another as people drank a toast. Bright, cheerful music produced by flutes and violins mingled with the voices. I noticed the lieutenant of the cloaks was at the head of our little group. He strode up to the doors and knocked loudly on them.
The music and voices died quickly. The doors opened into the room, and I saw it was a banquet hall that lay beyond the entrance. We were marched in one at a time and lined up beside each other with our captors behind us. We were a dirty group of quivering, frightened women set before a room full of men.
I glanced behind us and saw two dozen long wooden tables with benches for seats. To our right were heavy silk curtains dyed red. They partially hid large stone balconies that looked out on the night sky. I couldn’t see what lay beneath the wooden railing. On the bench seats were men, and only men, who also wore cloaks, but of finer quality than even the men who held us. They looked on us with curiosity and, in some cases, an immodest interest.
Unfortunately, at the far back of the room sat the men from the truck and ship. They were as filthy as ever, more so in comparison to the cleaner folk in front of them. The burly one sneered at us, and he directed his particular hatred at me.
I faced forward and gazed upon a strange sight. Ten feet in front of us stood a wide, short platform. The podium was covered in a thick layer of soft cloth like oriental rugs. On the podium sat three chairs. The center chair, with its wide arms and tall, pointed back, was like a throne, and on that throne sat a man of about sixty. His hair was graying, but his gray eyes were still keen. He sat erect and over his shoulders was draped a large fur coat. On his head was a garland of branches from an oak tree.
On his right was a smaller chair, but identical to his in appearance. A woman of roughly forty sat in it. She had long blond hair that was adorned with a garland of lilac branches. They still held some of their purple blossoms on their tips. She wore a dress of shimmering silver and sat straight, but her soft face was more welcoming than the hard, wizened one of the man beside her.
On the man’s left was a simple chair of wood, and in that chair sat a young, handsome man with long black hair that was tied behind his back. He was muscular, clean-shaven and had the same gray eyes as the man beside him. The young man had an indifferent expression on his face that marred his natural beauty.
On the far side of the platform, beside the young man, stood the leader of the cloaked men. His eyes watched the room and one hand lay on the base of a protruding sword hilt.
The woman looked over us with a smile on her lips, but that faded when she glanced across the throned man at the other, younger man. Her smile faded and a sad look swept over her face.
We stood in an empty area between the benches and the platform. The men behind us whispered until the older man stood and held up his hand.
“We are gathered here to perform the Choosing where any man of age may place his blood in the Choosing bowl and see if any of these women are worthy of you.” He turned his attention to us. “My fair ladies, you are privileged to have been brought here-”
“Against our will,” Bree spoke up.
The man’s thick, bushy eyebrows crashed down. “You will learn what we have to offer, for we are not mere men. We are lycan, or what you would call werewolves.” I wasn’t the only woman to shrink back at his pronouncement. This was the same bullshit crazy talk as last night.
“You’re crazy,” I spoke up.
A wisp of a smile slipped onto his lips. “I assure you we are not, but know that we will not harm you.”
I snorted. “Like we’re going to believe a bunch of psychotic, kidnapping monsters.”
A deathly silence arose from the audience. The old man stiffened and pursed his lips. “We are not like you would see in the movies. We don’t become mindless beasts on every full moon, and we don’t hunt prey unless threatened. We are as civilized as any in the human realm.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of dating sites?” I bit back.
“We do what we must to continue our race, and then only sparingly, but I will not argue the point with you any longer. You’ll see for yourselves what manner of man or monster we are once the Choosing is finished.” He signaled to a pair of men nearby, and one of them brought forth a bowl with a cloth over the top. The other one held a eight-inch long needle in his hands. The old man swept his hand over the room. “Anyone who wishes to join in the Choosing must submit their arm for the bloodletting.” He then resumed his seat.
Dozens of men stood and navigated through the tables to the bowl. Even the cloaked man beside the younger, seated one joined the line. Most men passed around us without stopping, but a few paused and studied us like we were cattle put up for auction. One curious man got too close to Bree. She lunged forward and snapped her teeth at him before her movement was arrested by her jailer. The man stumbled back and the others burst into laughter.
“Don’t touch the merchandise!” one of the men jeered. That made the men laugh louder than before.
I noticed the woman on the smaller throne frowned. She leaned to her left and touched the man’s arm. He pursed his lips and stood.
“Quiet!” the older man yelled over the sounds of amusement. “Stop showing yourselves as fools and give some dignity to this ceremony!”
The men quieted and each one stepped into line in front of the bowl. Each man rolled up his sleeve and held it over the bowl. The man with the needle stabbed the bottom of the arm, and a prick of blood dropped into the bowl. This was repeated for all of the men until there were no more in line.
The old man turned to the younger one by his side. “Will you not partake, my son?” The young man’s frown deepened and he shook his head. A flash of anger swept over the older man’s face, and he turned away from his son. He stepped off the podium and up to the pair who held the bowl between them. The leader grasped the edge of the bowl with one hand and swept his other hand over the contents. “We have all who wish for a bride. Now which bride should begin the Choosing?”
“The loud-mouthed one!” the burly man yelled from the back of the room. The room erupted in laughter.
The old man held up his hand and there was silence. His eyes fell on me and he gestured with his hand. “Come here.”
I pursed my lips and buried my feet into the floor, but the man who guarded me shoved my back. I stumbled forward and he led me over to the bowl. The old man turned to the man with the needle, and he produced a small cup. Their leader dipped the cup into the concoction and held it out to me.
“Drink, and choose,” he told me.
I pressed my arms against my sides and glared at him. “Go fuck yourself,” I snapped.
The old man frowned and looked past me at my guard. My arms were yanked behind me and my back I was pulled against his chest so I couldn’t move. The old man stepped forward and grabbed my chin. He forced open my mouth and tipped the contents of the cup into me. It spilled down my chin and throat, and I choked on the vile, rust-flavored drink.
Then I knew pain. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. My whole body was awash in a fire I couldn’t hope to douse. My skin crawled and shivered, and the heat swelled inside me until I thought I would be consumed. I threw my head back and screamed, and felt the man release my arms. I fell onto my knees and slammed my hands onto the floor. My fingers and palms left cracks in the rocks. I hunched over and gasped for air.
The pain sped through me like a wild forest fire. The flames focused on one spot on the upper part of my arm. I clapped my hand over the searing flesh and could feel the heat bubble just under the surface. A faint glow appeared beneath my hand and it felt as though an invisible pen was etching something deep into my flesh.
“See what house it is,” the old man ordered.
The man behind me knelt and grabbed my hand. He wrenched it from my arm and pulled my flaming arm up so the old man could view what was there. My vision was blurry from the pain, but I could see as the old man leaned down. His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. His voice came out in a soft, stunned whisper.
“My house.”
“Speak up, Lord Greenwood!” one of the spectators pleaded.
The old man straightened and looked over the crowd. “She has been chosen to join my house.”
A stunned silence swept over the audience. The young man in the plain chair jumped to his feet. The woman, too, stood, and moved to stand beside him. She grasped his arm and quelled some of the anger in his face.
Lord Greenwood raised his hands above his head and smiled. “She has been chosen for my house, and as I am too old then the duty must fall to my only son-”
“I object!” the young man argued. His eyes swept over the room. “My blood wasn’t placed in the bowl, you all saw that. There has to be some sort of sorcery at work here.”
The old man whipped his head to him. “Whatever was done, the Choosing has chosen you a mate.”
“I refuse her, and your stupid tradition,” the young man growled.
Lord Greenwood stood to his full, tall height and his hands balled into fists at his sides. “You will do as tradition demands!”
The woman beside the young man released him and clapped her hands. “That is enough. Take the young woman to spare quarters and the matter will be settled later. For now we must get these other girls through the ceremony before they catch their death of cold in those filthy clothes.”
The old man frowned, but gave a nod to someone behind me. I didn’t have the strength to fight when two men grabbed my arms and dragged me towards the door.
“Treat her with more respect. She is one of us now,” the woman commanded them.
The men bowed their heads. “Yes, My Lady,” one of them replied.
One of the men scooped me into his arms and the other held open the door for us. We strode into the long passage and turned to the right. My hazy mind couldn’t follow where we walked, but I did notice when the rock walls were replaced with ones made of white sheet rock. The floor, too, changed to hardwood, and the torches became light bulbs covered in clear white glass. The doors were still thick wooden portals, but they were now stained a ruddy red color.
The men reached one of the many doors and carried me inside. The room was furnished with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a door to one side where lay the bathroom. They set me on the bed and left me.
It was several minutes before I could gather my strength enough to sit up. My head spun and my arm ached, but the fire inside me was extinguished. I grabbed my arm and looked at the burned spot. There, etched into my skin by some invisible, heated scalpel, was a small emblem of a moon. The details were so exquisite that I could see the rabbit with the ball of rice. I brushed my hand over the spot and winced when my fingers stung my flesh with heat.
I dropped my arm and looked around at my new prison. The comfort didn’t impress me. I focused all my thoughts on two things: escape from the room and helping the others. I didn’t know if I could get them out of this strange maze of modernity and medieval-ism, but I had to try.
I slipped my noisy shoes off, slid off the bed and stumbled to the door. I’d only covered half the distance when the door swung open. One of the guards stood in the doorway.
“Get back on the bed,” he growled.
“Make me,” I snapped.
He stalked towards me, but I surprised him with a shoe attack. They both hit him square in the forehead and was enough distraction for me to dodge around him and through the open door. I raced down the hall with the guard in hot pursuit. The wood floors were well-shined which gave me an advantage. His feet pounded along the boards, but mine slid.
The area in which I found myself was a honeycomb of hallways. The passage was intersected at intervals by perpendicular halls, and those were connected to more halls. That meant a lot of corners. I grabbed the wall of one of the corners and slid into the new passage. The man wasn’t so sharp on the corners, and he slammed into the walls more than once.
“Stop!” he shouted.
As if. I raced down the new hall only long enough to catch the next corner which lay thirty yards down the passage. Then I rinsed and repeated. Unfortunately, all my efforts didn’t give me a foot more distance between us, and the guard actually started to gain on me. I needed a place to hide. There were the rooms, but I couldn’t get a door open and closed fast enough to hide where I’d gone.
There were tall alcoves with statues and busts on pedestals inside them. Though I wasn’t small, I wasn’t so large that I couldn’t squeeze behind one of the larger statues. I held my breath, and a moment later the guard swept past me and down the hall. He stopped at the next intersection and whipped his head left and right. The guard lifted his head and sniffed the air. He whipped his head around and his eyes stared directly at where I stood.
I cringed behind the statues as he marched back to me and stood before the alcove. “Come out. I know you’re there. I can smell you,” he ordered me.
“Then smell this,” I snapped. I pushed hard against the back of the statue. It tipped forward and the guard put both his hands on the statue to keep it from toppling on him.
I raced around the statue and retraced my steps. At the first corner I whipped around and collided into a soft chest. I flailed and pushed against my new captor, but a pair of delicate hands grabbed my shoulders and held me still.
“I won’t hurt you,” a woman’s voice spoke to me.
I paused in my struggles and looked up into the smiling face of the strange woman from the banquet room. There wasn’t enough time to ascertain her sincerity before the sounds of the guard’s boots rushed up behind me. He skidded to a stop and I glanced over my shoulder in time to see his eyes widen. The guard bowed at the waist.
“My Lady Greenwood,” he murmured.
“It’s all right, I will take her,” the lady told him.
He raised his head and frowned. “But-”
“You may return to the banquet hall with an easy mind. I will accept any responsibility for what trouble she might cause,” the lady promised.
The man pursed his lips, but gave a nod. “As you wish, My Lady.” He strode past us and soon disappeared around one of the myriad of corners.
The woman returned her attention to me and released my arms. I jumped back and glared at her. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. You’re just the rest of the monsters wanting to keep us here,” I growled at her.
Her smile widened. “Do I look like a monster?”
I had to admit she didn’t. Her blue eyes were soft and full of gentleness, and there was a teasing quality in her smile that made me want to smile in return. She had her long, pale hands clasped in front of her and was patient as I studied her.
I leaned back and frowned. “I don’t know, do you?”
“No more than you,” she replied.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not a monster.”
She tilted her head to one side and her eyes studied my face. “Are you so sure?”
I didn’t understand her words, but my heart skipped a couple of beats. I wasn’t too familiar with werewolf folklore, but my thoughts lingered on the bowl of blood from which I’d been forced to drink. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned her.
The woman strode past me and stopped ten yards beyond where I stood. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me. “Come with me and I will tell you anything you wish to know.”
I took a step away from her. “How do I know this isn’t a trap to get me back into a room?”
“Would I save you from that guard only to lock you away myself?” she pointed out.
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know, would you?”
The woman chuckled. “No, and I give you my word that this isn’t a trap.”
“And after we talk, then what?” I asked her.
She half-turned from me and her smile faltered. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Then you will decide your future.”
Part of me told me to run away from this strange, beautiful woman, but a larger part insisted I could trust her. I walked up to her and looked her in the eyes. “All right, I’ll come, but no funny business.”
Her full smile returned and she bowed her head. “Then follow me.”
Lady Greenwood led me through the maze of halls and to another winding stone staircase that looked out of place in the modern portion of this strange, huge building. We walked down the stairs twenty feet to the first lower level, though the steps continued deeper the bowels of the hill. We stepped out into a new hallway, and I sidled up beside her.
“Mind telling me exactly what this place is?” I questioned her.
She shook her head. “Not at all. This is a part of the Old Den. The part we just left, where you were taken, is a part of the New Den.”
“‘Den?’ Like a wolf den?” I asked her.
The corners of her lips twitched. “Yes, precisely that.” She turned slightly towards me and her eyes looked me over. “You didn’t believe my husband when he told you we were werewolves, did you?”
I snorted. “Why should I believe anybody who tells me that?”
“Because it’s true,” she replied.
I raised an eyebrow and gave a little more room between us. “So you’re telling me he wasn’t lying?”
“Correct.”
“Uh-huh. And what’s a bunch of werewolves doing in a-” I waved my hand at the walls “-place like this?”
“Surviving.”
I didn’t have time to ask her for an elaboration before we rounded a corner and found ourselves beneath an arch. Before us was a large, semi-wild garden. Thick, wild vines climbed the stone walls that stood on either side of us, and their long trains blanketed the ground above their roots. A stone path lay among wild ferns and branched out in two directions in front of a central fountain. The fountain was two-tiered, with the larger pool on the bottom. Water ran over the top bowl and gently splashed into its lower brethren. Lilly-pads floated atop the water, and there was a perfection reflection of the sky in the clear pool. Atop the fountain was a statue of a seated wolf. Its head was tilted back and it appeared to howl at the moon.
The stone paths wrapped around the fountain and reunited on the other side. The single trail wound its way through a small forest of willow and oak trees until it disappeared around a bend. Stone benches and small bushes lined the path, and I saw there were purple lilacs like those that adorned Lady Greenwood’s head.
Moonlight streamed down from the clear sky and wrapped us in its cold embrace. I cringed when the fire in my right arm was reignited where lay the new tattoo. I clutched the strange image and turned away from the light. The pain subsided.
The woman stepped out into the garden and turned to me. Her blond hair turned to silver beneath the moonlight, and she appeared to glow with an unearthly light. She held out a hand and smiled at me. “Don’t fight it.”
“Fight what?” I returned.
“Your new nature,” she told me.
“New nature? What the hell are you talking about?” I growled.
“You’re a werewolf now, like the rest of us,” she revealed.
I scowled at her and stepped back into the darkness of the hall. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to believe that bullshit,” I spat back.
She took a step towards me with her hand still held out to me. “Please. Trust me.”
“You’ve taken me for a long enough walk. I want answers. Now,” I demanded.
Lady Greenwood dropped her hand, but her smile never faltered. “I see. You will take that path. That’s just as well.”
“The only path I’m taking is the one out of here,” I bit back. I glanced down both ends of the hall, but didn’t see another exit. “Just as soon as you tell me where it is.”
“That is a question I won’t answer,” she replied.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, then tell me where this ‘Den’ is.”
“It is on Wolf Island.”
“Of course it is. Where’s Wolf Island?”
“If you seek escape, the nearest human settlement is a hundred miles off through thick woods and rough roads,” she warned me.
I frowned. “That’s for me to decide. Where were all the other girls taken?”
“Each was given a husband who best suited them and they were taken to his house,” she explained.
Damn it. We were separated. “Where are these houses? On the island?” I guessed.
She nodded. “Yes, and on other islands on the lake. Our pack is quite large.”
I waved off the last bit of info. “All I want to know is how to make it a dozen people less. Now, how do I get to one of the houses? The one with the youngest girl.” Lillian would be my first rescue.
Lady Greenwood closed her eyes and shook her head. “I won’t help you to separate them from their husbands.”
I stepped back so I stood completely in the hallway. “Then I guess I’ll have to do it on my own.”
I turned and ran to the left where we’d come. My nose collided into the firm chest of someone who was a head taller than me. I fell back onto my rear and looked up into the frowning face of the young man from the banquet hall; Lady Greenwood’s son, and my husband.
He gave me a derisive look and turned to his mother. His voice was firm and clear, and there was a tense edge to it. “What are you doing here?” he questioned her.
The depths of her eyes showed amusement. “Merely showing your betrothed her new home,” she told him.
One corner of his lips curled up in a sneer. “I have no betrothed.”
Lady Greenwood nodded at me. “She begs to differ.”
I struggled to my feet and stumbled away from him. “No, she doesn’t,” I retorted.
Lady Greenwood ignored me and returned her attention to her son. She stepped up to him and set a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was a ghost of a whisper as she gazed into his stern face. “Whatever put the idea into your father’s head, don’t blame your mate for his actions.”
He scowled and shrugged off her hand. “He has attached a human female to me against both our wills, and yet you agree with this?”
She smiled and shook her head. “You know me better than that, my son.”
“Then you agree with his decision to shackle me to a worthless human?” he growled.
For the first time I saw a look of anger pass over the lady’s face. She stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her. “You forget that I, too, was once a human female, or does your mother repulse you so much?”
The man’s face fell and he bowed his head to her. “I’m sorry. I forgot myself.”
She nodded to me. “Then at least remember your mate. She stands there in those filthy clothes while you complain about her past when her future is so cloudy to her. Teach her, train her, and, perhaps, learn to love her.” Lady Greenwood turned and swept down the stone path.
The young man watched her leave until she was out of sight. He sighed and hung his head. Now was my chance. I tiptoed backwards. My path led me along an unknown hall, but it led me away from him.
“You are headed the wrong way,” the man spoke up. He hadn’t so much as flickered his eyes at me, but he did now. “Follow me.” He turned his back to me and strode down the hall.
I made a break for it in the opposite direction. My bare feet pounded the rock floor worn smooth by countless years of wear. I pumped my arms and kicked my legs forward. My eyes zoomed in on the nearest corner. If I could just reach that.
A wind blew past me and I rammed into something hard. Again I fell to the ground, and again when I looked up there stood my new tormentor, the young Greenwood.
I glared up at him. “How’d you do that?” I questioned him.
“Follow me and I will tell you,” he replied.
I snorted. “You sound like your mom.”
His reply was to lean down and grab the front of my shirt. He pulled me to my feet, spun me around and pushed me down the hall. “The room is this way, now move it.”
I glared at him over my shoulder. “How’d I get stuck with you?” I growled.
“My sentiments are the same,” he quipped.
I led the way up the stairs to the floor above us and meant to get off on the first landing, but the young man grabbed my arm and yanked me up the stairs. “We go higher,” he ordered me.
I tried to wrench my arm from his hold, but it was like a vice grip. “Are you always this bossy to kidnapped girls, or is this your first time?” I snapped.
“First time,” he quipped as he pulled me up the stairs.
There was another twenty-foot flight and the stairs stopped at the next landing. He led me by the arm down the hall and I glimpsed the modern portion of the building. Unfortunately, he turned us onto a side hallway and led us deep into the strange, hive-like building. This floor had more windows and a cool breeze blew through the drafty passages. I shivered and rubbed myself with my free arm.
“Why aren’t we going to the New Den?” I asked him.
“Because my suite resides in the old one,” he told me.
“Not inclined to indoor plumbing?” I quipped.
