The Ruined Luna

Nineteen

Fear, icy and potent settled deep into my chest as we ran. The scents of the others were thick, their apprehension leaving trail through the heavily wooded forest I could have followed blind.

As soon as we heard voices, I smelled it. The same nauseating scent of cloves, sweat, and rotting blood. It was bewildering how eerily similar it was to back then. Only this time I wasn't weak, wasn't so pathetically human. This time, I'd rip Michael to pieces.

Kyrian, Avery, Tripp, Rita, and a short brawny man I didn't know were already in the clearing when Britta and I broke the tree line. The body I could just barely begin to see poking out of the tall reedy grass.

"Britta?" Avery asked, his hard gaze going between his mate and me.

"Do we know who it is?" she touched his arm briefly before turning her attention to Kyrian.

"Carmen." The stout man replied gruffly, his expression going steely. "They ripped her throat out."

Britta's hands flew to her mouth. "No!"

I tilted my head, rolling his words around in my mind. 'They?'

I sniffed again, drawing the breath deeper into my lungs, searching passed Michael's and corpse's overwhelming odors. Tar, asphalt, bleach, pepper corns. Imbedded in them a second wolf's unsavory scent emerged. Yeah, he was right. Michael'd had someone with him, but the fragrance wasn't fami00liar to me.

Kyrian, who'd been watching me closely, glowered as I finished my silent assessment.

"It's him, isn't it?"

I swallowed down my trepidation as the group's attention swung to me, then nodded. "He was here, but I don't recognize the male who'd been with him." I shuddered involuntarily. Michael was somewhere nearby, and he knew I was with this pack. My stomach twisted.

The stranger's bushy mustache twitched. "You can tell the second was male?"

I thought about the scents I'd picked up. "I believe so." There'd been nothing even faintly feminine about them.

He grunted. "Good nose."

Rita's eyes spat fire. "Should she really be here, sir? She's the reason Carmen's dead."

Hurt and fury scorched me. "Say the word, and I'll be gone before lunch."

Before I could hope, or worry, that they'd finally see what having me around would bring to their families, Kyrian snarled at her. "Get her out of here Jeff!"

The busy mustache man cast a long, considering look in my direction before nodding. "Come on Rita."

"Sir! Alpha Kyrian!"

"Let's go, Rita." Jeff muttered almost kindly, giving her a light push to get her moving.

If looks could kill, I would have been six feet under at the black, baleful glower Rita shot me as she passed.

My wolf's hackles rose. Her snarl was so loud and demanding it surprised me when my lip curled away from my own teeth and the sound reverberated out of my own throat. Rita wanted a piece of us? One more step and we'd rip out a hamstring.

Rita flinched away and exposed her throat.

You could have heard a pin drop with how silent that clearing went, not even the birds or crickets daring to make a sound.

"Holy shit." Tripp sucked in an awed breath.

"How?" Britta sibilated; her expression pinched.

Kyrian dropped his hand into his palm and rubbed his eyes. "What fucking else."