The Crystal Moon Curse: Book 5: TAKEN

Chapter 4. Wolves

KYRA

You will never run from me again.

A dark figure looms over me. The overpowering, reeking stench of hate and rage shakes me to my core as a large booted foot rises above me and with one ferocious kick, crashes down on my shin, snapping the bone like a toothpick.

I jolt upright in my bed screaming, reaching for my leg and sobbing with relief as I find it unbroken and the nightmare fading.

Only the tingle of phantom pain shooting down my left leg reminds me that the nightmare was once a very real experience.

Tears and sweat run unchecked down my face as I haul myself up from my bed wincing at the soft throb in my not quite healed ribs.

Holding them carefully, I walk to my bedroom window, struggling for air, sweat dripping down my body making my pajamas stick uncomfortably against my skin.

I yank the curtains apart and slide the pane open, breathing deep with relief as the fresh forest air comes rolling in down the hill behind our house.

Closing my eyes I lean against the window frame as the cool night air washes away the vestiges of the nightmare.

It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamed of him. Cain.

I shiver at the very thought of his name, pushing him down into the darkness where his memory usually stays.

It makes sense that after a day like today, he has found a way to creep out of the recesses of my memories. Nothing like a lost child in the woods to trigger my own horrors.

I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand, freezing as my nose suddenly picks up a foreign scent in the breeze. I squint into the dark and the forest beyond.

The sky is dim with the sliver of the waxing moon above casting so little light on the dark forest below. I hone in on the scent, holding back a gasp as I spot a pair of bright gold eyes staring back at me from the edge of the treeline.

Wolf eyes, matching the unmistakable scent. No ordinary wolf. Werewolf.

It is a scent I have not breathed in many years but the unmistakable werewolf marker is fixed in my memory, just as the nightmares that carry the memory.

The terror it brings sends me reeling from the window crashing straight into Udyr’s arms.

“Werewolf. Outside,” I gasp a warning. He spins me out of the room pushing me down the hall. The tension in his muscles seeps into the air and sets me more on edge.

“I know. There’s more than one. Your uncle and brother are already outside dealing with them.” He says, just as Uncle Borra’s fierce growl renders the air followed by a sharp and distinct wolf howl.

I shiver as Udyr shoves me into his bedroom. The howl outside reaches deep into my psyche drawing my wolf out.

The call is unmistakable and my wolf surfaces. Whoever is outside is calling me down.

“Stay here and away from the windows,” Udyr growls walking over to make sure they are locked before closing the heavy drapes with a fierceness that threatens to rip them.

I grab the sleeve of his shirt as he turns to leave the room.

“What do they want?”

“I don’t know Kyra, but I’ll find out. Just stay here.”

He locks the door behind him as he leaves and I sit on his rocker after grabbing a throw blanket from his closet.

A year ago I would have crawled into his bed and covered myself in his heavy blankets, but when I turned eighteen, almost overnight, my wolf became oversensitive to the powerful scent of the male bears in my clan.