Silvia POV The moon is almost full, reminding me of my promise to Esme. A ceremony. Tomorrow night at Wolf Moon. The cool light filters through the dense needles of the pine trees. The leaves sway and sigh in a breeze that brings little comfort. Everything is wrong. I look around me and see that I'm not the only one discomfited. All around me wolves, paw at the ground and whine. Beside me, Fulvio (or rather, Oro) and Graydon (I never got his wolf's name), stare ahead, out past the trees. The corners of their lips curl to reveal their canines and their nostrils flare wide. Okay, Fer, I mindlink my wolf, You're up. I close my eyes and grit my teeth against the pain of the transformation. And then it's done and everything smells even more wrong with Fer's sharp senses. I remember the forest smells being full of life. Damp earth that smelled rich with earthworms after the rain. Or the bitter tang of sticky sap. The sharp tickle of pine needles or the sweet bite of the drying pine
Vuko POV That was pretty much it. After Silvia--or rather Fer--brought Abir down with her iron, the werewolves who had chosen to follow him abruptly switched allegiance. Abir's wound was not fatal but it would cripple him. It's pretty hard to fix a shredded tendon--not even magic can manage that. The fighting outside also subsided. The werewolves who had been imprisoned in the silver cage had been weakened by their proximity to the toxic metal and by their exposure to the elements and lack of food and water. But they were really, really angry. They made short shrift of the ambushers. In fact, most of them had raking clawmarks along their hindquarters which tells you everything you need to know about how the fight went. Later, we would all see what Silvia had done with the silver cage. The enormous silver throne she had made for Queen Rose lay where it had fallen over on the training ground like some slain creature of myth. I have not left Silvia's side since she came into the pac
Silvio POV You would think that a Wolf Moon Ceremony involving the wolves of the Wildlands should take place in the Wildlands? It does not. I watched Vuko take care of it all. Right by his side of course. But everything felt different now. I knew without him saying anything that the Packhouse had been corrupted. I didn't then have the details--he showed us that horror later. But I didn't need them. It wasn't so much that I trusted him. Would you trust yourself? Trust is not even relevant. It's like we are one mind. Two bodies though--let's not forget that. It's hard to forget that with Vuko's musk putting Fer on high alert all.the.damn.time. In fact I cannot let her out at all. And I know Vuko is having the same struggle with his wolf. Patience. The Barren is of course no less Barren. But it is not unfriendly. Darius and Esme are waiting when we cross. It is as if the dreaming place becomes a living passage lined by torch-bearing dreamers robed in white. They stand silent, impas
Silvia POV Cook's diner is transformed. I never ever could have imagined, when I was working her, trudging through hours long shifts and holding my breath at Cook's atrocious cooking, when I was cleaning up squashed fries and half-eaten burgers and Goddess alone knows what else was part of the muck left on the floors and seats and tables by lazy customers ... that it could also be this. The glass windows ripple and glow like the sea at night. Above us ... sky. The moon is at her zenith and the her light showers down on us. I feel Fer just beneath my skin and with her, the iron. It feels like tides, moving and shifting within me. What does it want? I feel the packs' eyes on me. We promised Esme the ceremony. And we are here. Vuko POV Silvia turns to me and now she holds the pendant in her hands. Her fingers find the groove where the leather separates. They trace the curlicues of her own script. The rhyme. She looks at me and holds my eyes as she breathes out the lines.
Silvia POV When I come to in Vuko's arms, the iron is gone. I don't know how I know that. It feels like my bones are lighter, hollow even. Just for an instant, before Vuko's warmth and his eyes and his strength catch me and hold me safe, I feel ... alone. What happened? I sit up and look around. Dawn's light breaks mauve and lilac through the night sky and the moon has moved from her zenith. What is different? "Look," says Seersha. She is standing at the front of the pack, Didi's arms around her. She points out through the glass windows of this strange diner that has for the moment become a sacred place. Outside, the city is suffused with a golden light that is more than dawn's rays catching the outlines of buildings and apartments. It's magic! The city is glowing with magic! Just then Tidiane bursts in. The métamorphe is out of breath and sopping wet. "Silvia! Vuko!" he says, "What did you do? What in the name of all the gods is going on?" "Tidiane," I say. "You're wet." It's
I twist in the seat, pulling against the straps that bind me, hissing in pain as the threads of silver sear my skin. I snarl and bare my teeth at the driver and his mate in the front of the car. They only stare forward, they show no emotion at all.Familiars, I realise, I have been left to the care of bloodless, brainless Familiars. I fling myself against the straps, howling my rage and frustration. If only I could set my wolf free. Fer would know what to do. But the silver will kill her. My Fer, she is all I have left.I slump back in the seat, trying to see out the darkened windows of the car. Through the windscreen I can make out the mountains of the Wildlands looming black against the gold and magenta of the Wolf Moon sky. On either side of the car, the outlines of forest pines whoosh past in blurs of bristly bark and spiky spruce needles.No one came to say goodbye. Not one member of my family. Not one friend. My last view of my own mother was of her slende
Silvia POVI yawn as I lean on the the diner counter. Cook bangs down the plates in the open hatch behind me."Burgers," he says, then slams the hatch shut as soon as I pick up the plates. He's off for a smoke and a few shots of rum. After a year at this Diner I knows his habits but I don''t know his name. Nor do I care. There have been too many Cooks that I've worked for over the past four years.I grab the plates and slow-walk over to the table of teenage boys. The burgers are overcooked and stink of old grease.The boys ogle me as I bring them the plates. I hate the pink uniform. I pull it down, it rides up. Repeat over a full eight-hour shift. I look like a pornographic maid. I cut my hair short and spiked it up like a punk, pierced my nose and eyebrow and painted my nails black to compensate. But the cheap fabric clings like a second skin no matter what I do. It helps with the tips but most nights the few dollars extra I get don't se
Sylvia POVI'm thinking of the moon and how it will feel to run through the moonlight, keeping pace with the others like me--the ones they call Rogue. We never speak. We don't have to. They suffer as I do when it's full moon.The park is silent as I cross it, every leaf and blade of grass coated with the goddess's golden paint. A solitary owl hoots and I sense the tremors within brush and hedge as small creatures seek shelter.The boy takes me by surprise and he shouldn't. IHe jumps out in front of me with a yell. It's the lanky boy with the floppy black hair and pimply face from the diner. The one who acts like the others' Alpha. I sense his humans step out of the shadows. It's like the saddest pack in the world. I decide to name him Alpha-boy.I berate myself for not paying attention. Because now Fer is on high alert and ready for a full transformation. Chill, I mindlink her, This doesn't need to be a big thing. Transf