Blood on the Moon

Rose

“Have you read this shit?” Victor exclaims as he rushes through my door.

“The fact that you don’t knock anymore isn’t lost on me,” I reply as he throws Evander’s Statement of Neutrality in front of me. “You printed a copy?” I ask.

“Yes, so we can frame it!”

I laugh, lifting the paper and answering his original question, “Yes, I read it.”

“I’m guessing Asher already told you about the part where Margaery is Evander’s mate.”

“Yes, he found out from her last night while with me. I didn’t realize Evander was going to publish this, though. It’s a brilliant move.”

“Makes Gen look like a monster. Denying her sister the right to be with her mate while instigating a war with an Alpha who wants no part in it and is willing to compromise.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if her known allies start dropping like flies,” I say. “I expect we’ll be receiving some phone calls soon.”

“And Evander,” he adds, sitting on the edge of my desk. “I just wonder what Gen’s reaction to it will be.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, my heart wrenching. What if she hurts Asher? What if she kills him?

I’m sure Asher would defend himself; he wouldn’t lie down and take it any longer. But, if she truly is enhanced like they say she is, would he be strong enough? Would others come to his aid? And, even if they did, would they be able to save him?

“I’m sorry,” Victor sighs, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sure Asher is okay. He knows how to handle her; he has been doing it for a long time.”

“She’s more erratic now, from what he’s said. Unpredictable. She’s a rabid dog.”

“You’ll feel it if he’s in danger, Rose,” Victor eases. “You have a mate bond; if he’s in danger, you’ll rush to save him in seconds. At that point, it wouldn’t matter if Gen knows. So, take a deep breath. It’ll be okay.”

“You’re right,” I reply, feeling slightly better. “Hopefully, this statement moves things along as far as them getting more political support. That’s all they need before I can challenge her.”

“Challenge her?” Victor asks, and I mentally slap myself, cringing.

I forgot to tell him that I agreed to be her challenger.

“Well,” I start, my voice high-pitched.

“You can’t be serious, Rose.”

“Listen, they said that she’s got superpowers. They'll be slaughtered if they send anyone else in to challenge her. She’s enhancing her army, too, which means she’s dangerous. A threat to all who have crossed her, including our Clan.”

“But you’re risking your life! If she is enhanced, what makes you think you can beat her?”

I give him an “are you serious” look, pursing my lips, and he tilts his head to the side, nodding. “Alright, I guess you have a point. I should’ve guessed there was something off about you before you told me since you’re freakishly strong and fast.”

“It’s more than you’ve seen,” I admit. “I hold back to keep up appearances, only doing what’s necessary to assert my dominance.”

“My God,” Victor says with a chuckle, sucking in air sharply. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“Hence why I know I’m right in challenging her,” I reply. “She needs to be eliminated, and I’m the only one who can do it. If she’s not, she may amass so much power and influence that it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“You’ve convinced me,” he relents, plopping down on the couch, his face in the cushions, his voice muffled. “As foolish as I think it is, for the record!”

“Duly noted,” I say, ruffling his hair. “But I know what I’m doing.”

Asher

Genevieve’s shrieks and clamoring haven’t ceased all night and into the morning. Her voice must be raw, the room wrecked. I heard her topple the dress and tear trim from the wall, prying the nails out.

Only more confirmation that something is different about her.

I’ve stayed in the house, too scared to leave because of what she might do if she doesn’t smell me here anymore. Margaery is doing the same, sheltering in the basement. It’s a miracle Gen was too caught up in her anger that she didn’t notice Margaery’s absence last night, but Marg made it quick. She was only gone for an hour at most, which is for the best.

I’m assuming Gen has read the Statement of Neutrality that Evander published this morning at seven o’clock on the dot. I heard the notification ping from her phone upstairs, followed by silence.

Then chaos. I can tell her wolf is rising to the surface increasingly, growls and loud roars shaking the walls. I think she might’ve shifted, too, because I heard a wolf's familiar panting and claws tearing through the wall.

I’m too nervous to move a muscle. Any noise I make could set her off. If I breathe wrong, she might hear it and use it as an excuse to use me as her punching bag next. I’m shocked Margaery escaped with only a small bruise on her cheekbone last night.

I am even more shocked that she hasn’t already chosen to take her emotions out on me—just another thing I don’t understand about her erratic behavior.

She used to be so focused on control. Control of me, her pack, and even herself. She is a brilliant, cunning woman, which is why she was able to manipulate me so easily. Or, I should say, she was.

It’s as if she’s been becoming increasingly more and more impulsive and intelligent over the last few months, starting with accusing Rose of violating our treaty with them. But even that wasn’t so insane. There was a reason she did it. She wanted an excuse to assert her dominance over Rose, knowing that she’s a fairly new Clan Leader, so her fear hasn’t been secured yet.

She used to be calculating, taking at least some time to consider her moves and words. Now, it’s as if she doesn’t think at all. It’s as if her wolf has completely taken over, and Empusa is vastly more evil than her human counterpart.

BANG!

I jolt, hearing the door slam open, followed by footsteps, loud footsteps. Footsteps grow closer and closer as she descends the stairs, walking into the kitchen, stopping only when she sees me.

I wouldn’t dare say anything, still as a statue, as if I’m face to face with a wild bear. I don’t want to provoke it.

“Did you read what they’re saying about me?” She growls, her eyes the strange amber-brown color the soldier described.

I swallow, my mouth dry. Should I answer or stay quiet?

“Speak!” She commands, in my face, in two long steps. “Speak!”

“Y-Yes!” I cry, raising my hands. “I saw it.”

“How?” She grumbles, her tone alarmingly soft.

Margaery showed me, but I don’t want to put any of the heat on her. Even speaking her name could make Gen run down those stairs to attack her.

“One of your assistants stopped by. I don’t know his name. I’ve never met him before. But he came over to see if you had read it yet, and when I asked him what he was talking about, he showed me.”

“Do you believe the evil things he says? That he’s completely innocent in instigating this war and that I am cruelly keeping my sister from him? As if he’s worthy of being her mate?”

“Of-Of course not,” I reply, knowing that now is not the time to be verbally combative with her. I like my head right where it is, thank you very much. Sometimes, it is best to tame the beast rather than attack it.

She slaps me in the face twice, her nails sharp as they scrape my cheek, and she watches my expression closely. I breathe through the pain, knowing I have to keep my expression stoic. She’s testing me, trying to get a rise out of me so I can give her an excuse to pounce like a bear padding at the prey playing dead.

So I keep my composure, my hands glued to the arms of the chair.

She stares for a second longer, studying my face for any indication of a challenge. Any give that I am against her.

She grabs the cup I was drinking from the table and smashes it on the ground, the ceramic pieces scattering against the floor. She shrieks into my ear, her voice shrill and piercing my eardrum, causing my ear to ring.

I wince only slightly but keep my hands clenched around the arms.

Can’t we fight back? Let’s end this now. Fight her!

Now is not the time, Cato. We cannot beat her. We need to wait.

“Aren’t you going to fight back?” She goads, her saliva slapping my cheek when I turn it after she slaps me again. “Where is the attitude you’ve had for weeks?”

I don’t answer, choosing this as the time to remain silent. Anything I say or do will be used against me, so it’s best to say and do nothing. Let her get it out.

“I’ll slash your throat with a piece of this cup!” She threatens, on her hands and knees, as she searches the ground for a suitable piece.

My heart races. This is the moment. Like one in the Choose Your Adventure video games I used to play with my siblings as a kid. The choice that changes the story. The point where one of your characters can die or make a mistake so horrible it’ll disappoint you for the rest of the game.

This is that choice, except I’m playing with my own life.

Left click for speak, right click for don’t speak. Make your choice in ten seconds; the clock is ticking.

“Evander is whose neck you should be slashing.”

She stops moving, craning her head to look over her shoulder.

“What?”

“You’re right. He’s not good enough to be with Margaery. We both care about her, even if we have our differences; that is one thing we have in common,” I continue. “And Alpha Evander is not worthy of being her mate, not when he is enemies of our pack.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she sputters, rising to her feet, the ceramic pieces forgotten. “He must die. He must, he must!”

Her eyes dart back and forth, her gaze downturned toward her feet as she exits the room, rushing up the stairs, the door closing behind her.

I loosen my grip on the chair and release the air in my lungs, my bladder full and in need of relief as I catch my breath.

Looks like I made the right choice. I’m breathing, after all.

Let’s just hope I didn’t fuck up the rest of the game.