Blood on the Moon

Rose

How was I to know?

How was I to know I’d find myself sitting in a dusty cabin, left unloved and untouched for years, in the middle of rogue territory, waiting for a man? How was I to know that man would be a werewolf, a mated Alpha?

If the Night God looks after His Night Children, is He watching now? What would He think of this ill-fated pairing between myself and his nemesis’ moon-born descendants?

Are those stories even true? And if they are, could the Gods blame me? How was I to know.

“Besides,” I whisper as I stand, walking out of the cabin into the midday air, taking a deep breath, and soaking in the sun. “Looks like he’s not coming, anyways.”

I look over my shoulder at the cabin, smiling. It’s beautiful. Quaint.

You can tell it was built by hand by its original owners, the logs cut by hand and stacked with bits of moss in between to create insulation. Now ivy grows up the sides, taking over the rich wood stain like an insect in a spider’s web. Inescapable, the ivy has consumed even the shingled roof.

I approach the wall by the door, this one nearly completely covered in the overgrown plant, and I brush my fingertips on top of one of its leaves. I know this species isn’t poisonous; I have lived in a woodland area my whole life, so I’ve made it my business to understand plant species.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I gasp, jumping slightly as I turn around, my eyes wide as I watch Asher approach me, smiling.

“We used to try to cut the ivy off because the logs are gorgeous, but we decided to stop,” he says, leaning against the wall on his forearm. “It was just too persistent.”

“And now the house is covered,” I reply, looking at the roof.

His eyes shine with his bright smile, a small huff of a laugh resounding in his chest. “Yeah, the cabin didn’t stand a chance.”

“I can relate,” I whisper.

“What?” He asks, arching his brow. “Sorry, the wind is a little loud.”

“Oh, nothing,” I answer, biting my lip. “I said let’s go inside.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, opening the door for me. “Have you been waiting for a while?”

“No,” I lie.

“Good, I’d hate to keep a lady waiting.”

I giggle. “Wouldn’t have been your fault if I were waiting. It’s not like we agreed on a specific time.”

“Still.”

He pulls out what looks to be a handmade chair, the one I was sitting in for fifteen minutes while I waited before I stepped outside, and gestures for me to sit. I graciously accept his offer, and he pushes in the seat for me before taking the one on my right.

“So,” he begins. “This is…” He trails off.

“Awkward?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice shaking slightly as he laughs nervously. “I don’t have many friends.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, indicating that he does know. “I guess I don’t have much time to socialize, being Alpha and all.”

“Aren’t most Alphas very close to their Beta and Gamma?”

“I don’t have either of those,” he answers quickly, changing the subject. “What about you? Who was that guy in the meeting with us? I don’t think I ever caught his name.”

“Victor,” I reply, letting the subject go. “He’s my right-hand man and closest friend.”

“Interesting,” he whispers, his eyes glimmering slightly.

I wonder if that’s jealousy?

I pause. “What about Genevieve’s sister?” He cringes when he hears her name. “Margaery? Are you close with her?”

“She and I are okay,” he answers, his voice higher than usual. “She’s the closest thing our pack has to a Beta, so we work together.”

“Interesting,” I repeat, mocking him slightly to lighten the mood.

He chuckles.

“So,” I begin, leaning my elbow on the table and placing my temple on my palm as I stare at him. “What is there to do in this neck of the woods?”

“There is a pond nearby that my siblings and I would play in all the time,” he begins, his eyes lighting up. “Our whole family would go and bring toy boats we made and pretend to race them. There are long willow trees that we’d swing off into the lake and see who could make the biggest splash. My brothers and I would always gang up on my sisters.”

“Meanies!” I interject, giggling.

“I know, I know. Sexist bullshit,” he says, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But my sisters got us back big time, always. They’d team up and get us away from the crowd, kind of like hunting a herd animal, and then they’d strike.” He claps his hand dramatically. “Boom! Jumping on your back like a fucking spider-monkey and smashing your face in the mud, rubbing in it real good, or they’d do those wet-willies and plenty of other disgusting stuff.”

“How many siblings do you have in total?” I ask.

“Four brothers, two sisters. All younger than me. My sister, Marabelle, is only a year younger than me, so we’re the closest. The twins, Cassiopeia and Landon, are a little over a year younger than her. Three years after is my brother Carter, then two years after him are the second set of twins, Tobias and Jaime.”

“Wow,” I marvel. “That’s incredible. Your parents must have their hands full.”

“Oh, yeah,” he replies, nodding vigorously. “My house was chaotic growing up. Insane, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“I love that you love your family so much,” I admire. “And I’m sure they love you with just as much ferocity as you do them.”

“As much as my siblings annoy the shit out of me, I’d do anything for them,” he whispers, nodding, his emotion pouring out of him. “Anything. My parents, too. My mom became pregnant with me when they were eighteen, newly mated, without a pot to piss in. But they didn’t care, and I never knew we were poor until I got older. It made no difference to me.”

“You were rich with love,” I reply, holding back tears. “That’s what counts in a family more than money.”

My lip trembles as I glance away.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t even think about that. Family must be a hard subject for a vampire. Are they…” He trails off.

“Dead?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

My breath hitches in my throat as I open my mouth, prepared to tell him the truth. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To be seen for who I am by someone. Maybe even loved despite or because of it? I have built stone walls around myself, mainly because my mother taught me how by having the same ones guarding her heart. I don't know how to let anyone in or if I should because I'm terrified of what they may think. Would they be scared if they knew how different I am from normal vampires? Would they turn me in? Would they attempt to use me for my power?

My mother always said the world and the creatures in it are evil. "They'll screw you over the first chance they get," she used to say. "So don't give them the chance."

But his ivy pull is strong, his eyes bearing into what little bit of a soul I may have left as he waits expectantly, full of sympathy, full of understanding. His gaze wraps around my fortress heart, pulling me closer to him, and I want to spill. I want to pour my guts out to him, divulge every little detail. The isolation, the confusion, being different, and wondering if I’ll be hunted for it someday.

Tell him a family may be possible for me. A family like the one he described.

The one I never had, my mother too cold and distant to understand my need for friends and community. A need for laughter and memories, even if she provided for every material need I ever had.

The finest clothes, the finest blood: But nobody to share it with. No siblings to fight with or ponds to explore.

But with Asher, I can feel the force, the ivy, pulling me toward him. He could provide me with a sense of family. Safety, belonging, consistency. All the things I crave but have never had.

If I tell him the truth. A truth I’ve hidden from everyone else in my life, held tightly in my vaulted heart.

But he may know the passcode, and if I let him in, I can see it now clear as day, the life we may have together. A fantasy that could be real.

If I tell the truth about what I am.

“When I was a kid-”

“Ah!” He grunts, hissing as he clutches his neck, his nails digging into the table.

I’m jerked away from my dreamland, tossed back into reality as he shakes his head, squinting his eyes shut.

“Shit, sorry,” he groans, removing his hand to reveal his mark, pulsing bright red. “It stings like a bitch.”

“Does that mean?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows, reminding myself of the stark reality that Asher has a mate. She’s already his family.

“That she’s cheating?” He finishes. “Yeah, it does.”

“Asher, if you need to confront her, don’t worry about leaving me here. I’m so sorry; I can’t believe she’s doing that!”

“There’s no point in me talking to her,” he replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s been doing this on and off for years, and every time I confront her, she acts like I’m crazy, making the whole thing up. I’ve never caught her in the act, but my mark does burn. You can see it, can’t you?”

“Yes,” I confirm, watching as it glows angrily. “It’s not in your head.” I pause, my heart clenching. “Does she make you feel that way? That you’re crazy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s called gaslighting, Asher,” I warn gently. “That’s not okay.”

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you reject her?” I ask. “If she’s always cheating on you and won’t even take responsibility for it!”

“It’s complicated, Rose,” he sighs, waving me off. “I’d rather not talk about it. Besides, you were about to share with me after I’ve been talking this whole time and then went into hysterics over the mark.”

“What?” I cry in disbelief. “Your reaction wasn’t hysteri-”

“Either way,” he says with conviction, shutting the conversation down. “I want to hear about you and your life, too. Sorry, I interrupted you.”

“No need to feel sorry,” I whisper, taken aback. What is going on with him? Why does he allow himself to be treated this way by her?

And why would she cheat when she’s mated with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on? The kindest, too? A man who is devoted to family and would make an incredible leader, partner, and father.

Where does she get off thinking she can treat him this way?

And why does he defend her?

“You were saying something about when you were a kid,” he urges, his voice more lighthearted and sweet as he takes a genuine interest in my life.

I let out a breath, keeping my face still.

Maybe it’s best to keep the truth about me a secret? I was silly to think I should tell him the truth, given he’s loyal to Genevive even if he shouldn’t be.

It was stupid of me to wander into a dreamland where we run off into the sunset together.

That’ll never happen, not in this lifetime, not in reality.

As tightly as his ivy is wrapped around me, I resist, pulling away. I need to protect myself from the inevitable heartbreak. I need to realize he’ll never love me, not how I’d like him to.

I can’t let him in.