Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 6
"Noah Alvah. He–"
A door slams open from afar. The disturbance echoes down the hallway to our cells before the clamber of feet eclipses the noise.
I scramble over to Keenan and clutch at his arm through the cell bars. "What's happening? What's going on?"
"I don't know," he replies gruffly. "It's going to be all right. Stay strong, okay? Be brave like you were before."
More lights flicker to life above us as the footsteps near. His words do little to pacify my ballooning fear.
"Keenan?" My voice is ragged as a stocky woman in military lace-up boots comes strutting in with three beefy men behind her.
"Hello, Keenan. Long time, no see."
Keenan's muscles twitch beneath my grip. "Amara," he replies without any inflection.
"Carrie thought it best if you get reacquainted with the ring," she announces, a lewd smile painted on her face as she sweeps her gaze over his body. "Noah agreed. What better way to gauge the Adolphus pack's strength than with one of its highest-ranking members?"
One of the men unlock Keenan's cell and holds open the door as the other two retrieve him. My frantic attempt to keep Keenan out of their grasps is completely useless. My hands are dislodged from his arm with a mighty shove.
"Keenan!"
He doesn't struggle nearly as much as I did, instead, I catch his dark caramel eyes peering back at me with stony resolve.
"Stay strong, Luna," he instructs, only to earn a fist in the side that makes him pitch forward at the waist.
"Don't worry... he might come back." Amara offers us a satisfied smile then winks at Jax. "You’re next, sorcerer."
Amara walks after the men, their movements echoing in the cellar until the upstairs door shuts with a loud bang. My heart trembles with fearful anticipation. I can barely catch my breath as I push myself back up and clutch the cell bars for support. The ache in my body intensifies as my muscles tense.
"Jax?" My body trembles. "Jax, what do we do?"
The sorcerer is pale. Both hands rest behind his head as he takes in breath after breath, his eyes unmoving from the hallway where the wolves disappeared from.
"Jax?"
"We wait," he manages to get out, though his voice is clotted with emotion. "Just like we waited for you. That's all we can do here. We wait, and we save our strength. Do you understand, Luna?"
I nod my head, even though the air in the room now feels oppressive as if it is squeezing in on us. A gentle cry breaks free from my mouth as I rest my forehead against one of the bars.
"I understand," I say breathlessly.
"We have to... we have to save our strength. Both physically and mentally. We–"
The upstairs door opens again, but without the flare from before. Jax forces himself to stand and brushes off some dirt collected on his long coat. He peers down the hallway, eyes narrowing and growing distant, but his words are directed at me when he speaks next.
"Whatever happens, Luna, know that I think of you as more than a friend." Jax turns his hazel eyes to me. Love and regret turn his face into a hollow shell. My heart swells and cracks, my own profession ready at the cusp of my mouth. "You're family."
The words vanish.
The crack in my heart cleaves in two. He does not register my crestfallen expression, or perhaps he regards it as something else, for he forges on as if it matters not.
"And in my family, we have one rule: Family first. Always. Do you understand?"
"I–"
"Jax, my man, how long has it been? Last time I saw you, you fucked over the entire clan with your little disruption during our trade with the Trinity Coven."
"Disruption?" Jax sounds offended, but his face looks anything but. "That's a bit unfair, don't you think? My aim was for turmoil and chaos, which I believe I achieved seeing as old Gregor and Stevenson bit the dust by the end of it."
The man stiffens briefly, but then a gaudy laugh erupts from him. "Damn, man. You're about to be eaten alive and spit back out, just so we can fuck you up all over again. You might not want to run your mouth so much."
Jax gives the man an eerie smile. "Where's the fun in that?"
The man returns Jax's smile with a devilish smirk and goes to open his cell door.
"No helping hands to assist in my detainment?" Jax questions, his gaze drifting down the hallway as he remains in the corner of his cell.
"Nah, man. I don't need it." He jerks his thumb to his back, where a quarterstaff rests thanks to some leather straps anchored around his shoulders. "I got everything I need should you decide to get unruly."
"Touché," Jax utters and walks forward when the man gestures for him to exit with a sweep of his arm. "Nice to see you again, Cedric."
"Better put a move on it, Jax. You know how much Ferris hates it when you're late."
"I remember." Jax tips his head to me as the two walk away, leaving me to stare at their departure in muted despair. How can he be so calm? A sob crawls up my throat and wrenches itself from my body. Left alone to my dread and anguish, I do not hear the approach of another until it sounds too close for my liking. I whip my head up to view the new intruder, much to my neck's disdain.
"Who are you?" I ask, scooting myself to the far back of the cell, my body groaning at every inch gained. The man regards me solemnly and opens the door without a word. "Wait–please! Don't!"
The corners of his mouth sway downward as he enters my cell and pulls a black cloth bag from his back pocket. "I won't have to hurt you if you come quietly," he tells me. My head waves from side-to-side as he steps closer.
"Please," I beg. "I have to wait here for my friends."
The man's lips thin. "I'm just following orders." He extends the bag to me. "Put it over your head."
I hesitate. Every nerve in my body is on high alert as I stare at the bag. Then I think of Keenan and Jax's exit. Save your strength. Hand shaking, I take the bag and put it over my head.
Chapter 4
My compliance earns gentle handling, though I’m once again hefted over a shoulder. Through scent and hearing, I’m aware of our passage through the same upstairs venue as before. I don’t dare peek, as several voices call out to me en route, their words unkind.
I stifle a sigh of displeasure, curbing my unease as I grow irritated with the bag cast over my head. It’s itchy and uncomfortable to breathe in, but at least it hides my tears.
It also blocks the harsh wind that cyclones around us as we step out into the elements. An old flame stirs in the pit of my stomach as I inhale the crisp, cold air sailing around us. But to my disappointment, there is no trace of nature for me to connect to otherwise. There are no flowers or shrubbery to whisper in my ears. There is no communication from the earth to attend to its needs. Nothing. The flame vanishes. Damn this collar. Damn them all.
A nasty gust blasts into us. It rides up my winter coat and chills my skin. The man grunts as he sways and missteps. I buckle forward and down his back an inch with the motion and let out a squeak of objection.
"Sorry." He issues the apology without sarcasm or an ounce of false sincerity. I almost reel in shock and wind up slipping farther down his back. He walks on without fail, not bothering to right me even as I begin to squirm in his hold. "Seriously?" He grumbles.
"This position is uncomfortable," I gripe and continue to wiggle in his hold for a better placement. My neck aches from its odd position to keep the blood from rushing to my head and to lessen the pinch of the metal. To my astonishment, he stops and slips me from his shoulder.
My knees buckle at the impact, but at least I'm able to keep my feet under me. The cold air swirls around my front and I stand frozen in it for a belated second. Should I run? Tear this blasted bag from my—
"Oh!" Hands grip my shoulders and twist me around, only to land on my back and push me forward.
"Let's go," the man orders sharply. "Don't think of trying anything stupid and don't take off your hood. Noah doesn't want you to see where you're going."
I cross my arms over my chest, sticking my hands under my armpits for added warmth as he forces us on.
"Where are we going?" I ask, striving to gain a deeper understanding of my surroundings with my cultivator senses. Nothing.
"No talking."
I grind my molars as aggravation and disappointment eat away at me. His hand nudges me, jostling me forward faster. My spine straightens against the palm he keeps flat on my back.
"At least tell me if it will be much longer," I request, my voice strained. "Please."
My toes smack into something hard and rooted into the ground. I pitch forward with a shout, swinging my arms out in large circles to counterbalance the direction I hurl toward. But the man is swift. His hand grips my coat and yanks me back. I give another high-pitched cry, gasping for breath at the movement.
"Hey!"
"Calm down," he retorts. "I was just trying to help."
A flare of anger glues me to the spot. "If you wanted to help you would help my friends and I leave this awful place."
I should expect the rough shove at my back for my momentary sass—he is a Wselfwulf after all—but I don't. Though I manage not to topple to the ground, I do take three stumbling steps forward and smack face-first into a burly tree trunk.
"Shit!" The man curses and rights me. I whirl around, blind, but wound tight with rage. I lash out with my hands in the direction of his voice, smacking at the man’s stony body.
"I hate you!" I yell at him as he snags my wrists.
"I'm sorry, all right?" he hisses back. "Just, be quiet, okay? Shh."
His lackluster apology only fans my fire. I open my mouth, a scream so bright and mighty poised at the back of my mouth that I'm sure I could rouse the dead if I so wished, but he is ready. A palm slaps over my mouth. Due to the sheer size of his hand and the fabric of the hood, he smothers not only my mouth but my nose too.
"Don't. If they hear you, they'll do things to you to make sure you can't talk again. Things involving broken jaws and burned tongues. I know you might not believe me, but I don't want that for you, honestly. So please, be quiet. I apologize for my rough behavior. My temper got the best of me... I don't want to be in this situation either."
His hand slips from my mouth in the process of his many excuses, and I waste no time in whipping the hood from my head and tossing it to the ground. The man grimaces as he examines the fierce scowl I send from behind my chaotic hair.
"Then why are you aiding them? Why did you push me?" My inquisition is accompanied by a pointed finger. The tight contortion of his features relaxes, but not before checking to see if we are alone.
"I have no choice," he whispers to me as the wind howls through the trees. "The alphas’ commands hold me to their will just as much as this subjugation collar holds your strange magic at bay. I'm not strong enough to act against their will. Just as you're not powerful enough to break free from your subjugation." He scans the forest again, then spares me a pleading look. "Please, put this back on. I need to take you to the Greenery. I promise I'll be gentler in my handling."
I survey the area with dread. The night air is punctuated with beams of light from light posts in the distance, but we lie far within the thicket of the trees and coated in darkness. This could be our chance at escape if I can just convince this man to our cause.
"Please," I implore, shaking my head. "Please help me and my friends—"
His green eyes fill with remorse, and as he shakes his head, long black pieces of hair descend to hang around his face. My plea dies frozen on my tongue. "How can I help you, if I can't even help myself?" Heated hands aim to cup my own but redirect to cradle my cheek. "Please put it back on. We're not too far away."
I sniffle but do as I'm told. This time around, he hoists me up to rest lower on his shoulder so that I do not hang upside down.
"What's your name?"
He doesn't answer right away. "My name is Deval. For both our sake, it would be best to pretend as if we aren't so... familiar. There’s no need to tell me your name. You're Lunaria. The key to our war's end."
"I'm not," I object. "I'm just... me. All I want is to go home. My true home." As I exhale, my body sinks into his hold. The aches and pains riddling my body give weak protest, but the worst of my afflictions run across my head and back from my tumble to the cellar. "I don't understand your violence or this war. It's pointless to me. Why can your two packs not reside separately as you please."
The shrug of his shoulder digs into the underside of my ribs, but the discomfort is minor.
"No war is easy to understand, but ours is a much simpler affair than it seems. It is one alpha challenging another. Winner takes all." Deval's voice is dark and husky. "Hold on, we need to go up."
The jostling that ensues is not nearly as bad as I expect it to be. Deval keeps his tempo slow as we rise. Light begins to saturate the fabric over my head, and anticipation floods my veins.
"Why are you taking me to the Greenery?"
My soft-spoken words are covered by the rustling of branches. I say them once more, my words carrying over the wind's accompaniment.
"You'll see." His words are clipped. "Hold on."
We take the next corner at a gait that makes my head spin. I moan my dissent. "Slower, please," I beg.
"We're late."
He lengthens his stride.
Fortunately, there are no more stairs. Deval's feet make solid thunks against whatever avenue we make our way across, along with creaks and whines. Wherever we are now, the wind's callous touch does not reach us as before, even though it still howls. I shiver and lean into Deval's hold. Not missing a beat, he readjusts his arm to drape over a larger expanse of my legs. The small kindness makes my bottom lip quiver and hope rekindle brighter in my chest.
"Remember to behave inside. You'll be monitored."
I almost don't pick up on the small fission of warning, uttered as it is against my side, but upon digesting it my pulse doubles. A noise sounds from behind me, followed by a swift click. A rush of pleasantly warm air announces our final destination: The Greenery.
"What took you so long?" A feminine voice chides. "Get in." We enter without further ado. As the door suctions closed on the tails of the wind, I relinquish a breath of relief.
"We're here, aren't we? Don't be so concerned Eva."
The bag is yanked from my head. I blink in rapid succession at the sudden exposure to the room's brightness, raise a hand to block it, and let my eyes adjust.
The female huffs. "Don't you tell me what to do, Dev. Any suspicious activity is punishable—"
"There's nothing suspicious about my actions. I grabbed the fairy. Brought her here. End of story."
The two practically snarl at one another, so I take the opportunity to consider the girl. She is younger than Deval, much younger. She looks to be sixteen, around the age of Kimberly Moon—the Trinity Coven's most trusted seer. The second detail I notice is that the two are related.
Though their eyes are the same shade of jasmine pearl tea leaves—a delicately woven pattern of evergreens and hints of yellow—it is their noses that mark their kinship. The distinct slope and length mirror one another perfectly. The effect is a handsome complement to Deval and distracts from his unkempt beard; on Eva, it is too big. With her arms crossed over her chest, I spy a black stain across the back of her hand. It is reminiscent of a musical note.
The girl softens. "I don't want you to have to go in the ring again, or worse... the pit. Just remember what dad always said—"
"Head down. Mouth shut. Blend into the background. I will never forget it, Eva," Deval finishes. He scans the room, and once satisfied, he quickly leans over and kisses her forehead. "Take her in. Watch everything."
Her face scrunches into a poignant grimace. "Deval." Her utterance speaks plainly of her apprehension but put upon the receiving end of an impressive puppy dog pout from Deval, she crumbles. "Fine, but this is the last time, Deval. Our family can't afford your penchant for extracurricular activities."
The sibling’s frown at one another meaningfully, but before Deval can inch in the last word, another woman appears. She's chomping on a piece of gum and lets her sights linger between the three of us.
"Is there a problem here?" Her hickory eyes are close-set and narrow, and when they flick back to me, they thin to slits. "What the fuck happened to her face, Mangal?"
Deval squares his chest and goes stony-faced in front of the woman. She gives him a withering sneer that makes me shrink back.
"Well?" She persists.
"I fell," I blurt out.
The woman stops chewing her gum and levels her contempt at me. "Excuse you? You fell?"
I nod vigorously. "I was trying to get comfortable, and I accidentally fell down his back and on my face." The woman is unconvinced, as are the siblings. I gulp. "Then he laughed at me."
The woman cracks a smile at Deval. "Why'd you let her fall, Mangal? Too heavy for you?"
"No better way to learn a lesson than through pain and suffering."
"Well, well, well, someone's finally getting their shit together. That's what I like to hear!" The woman's pretty pink lips broaden their smile. "Who knows, we might make a wolf out of you yet, Mangal. Now, get out of here. Apparently, fairy babysitting is a strictly female task. Let's go little Mangal, take her to the others."
I'm ushered away with a forceful hand between my shoulder blades, but not before I have a chance to deliver a desperate look to Deval. He misses it as his back is to our group.
"Move it," Eva hisses, driving me forward with surprising strength. I do as I'm told. The humid and overheated air makes my skin prickle as true warmth starts to return to my body. I'm hustled through tropical ferns, their fan-like foliage brushing across my cheeks and arms. Far from being an annoyance as the grumbling women indicate, I take great pleasure in their passing caresses.
