0 comments/ 2332 views/ 6 favorites Lunar Dream Ch. 01 By: sensanin Hey, This is a book for me. No reason other than that. I wanted to write it, and continue with these characters to understand why I started writing. It's not edited because I didn't want to have it edited. If you find errors, well, you find 'em. If you don't like the story, well you don't like it. -S *** The week flew by until the morning of the battle day rose hot and oppressive over the horizon. Veronica and Ivory lay in their bed, holding each other. Neither slept a wink the night before, too keyed up for the battle that would take place in less than 24 hours. "Make a wish, Sheba," my mother whispered into my ear. Her lips touched the crescent shape briefly, warm, before pulling back. I looked around the ballroom, filled to the brim with family, friends, and pack. Above stairs, leaning over the railing of the second floor were yet more of them, witnesses to the second I blew out the large numbered 18 candle sticks. I closed my eyes, and wished for fire and love. A great passion like the mated pairs in my pack, and my own parents, the king and queen of Oscella. I wished for a romance that would sweep me off my feet. My father, Demir, would have liked to keep me a child a while longer, but I knew I was ready. Eighteen and the world was at my fingertips, just one wish to set everything in motion. I blew out the candle sticks, the smell of burned wicks, heated wax, and overly sweet cake greeted my heightened smell. The cheer from my guests nearly deafened my sensitive ears. I smiled and stepped back from the towering mass of blue fondant and sugar spun flowers, heels clicking on the gray and black marbled floor. I was instantly engulfed in one hug after another, each person wishing me the best. Friends and pack, I hugged back fiercely with unchecked strength, while I maintained a loose grasp and a charming smile for the humans who came to wish me well. I was equal parts wolf and princess, keeping both sides of my duel nature perfectly in check at all times. But as I moved around the room and smiled and chatted with people who hadn't yet seen me, I wanted to erase that balance, live for a moment without the tight control. Maybe one day, I mentally sighed. The first string of the orchestra my parents hired let me know the dancing would soon ensue. While everyone turned their gaze to the musicians, I slipped out a side door and wandered down the steps to the rose garden. The room had been sweltering, the scents from the wolves and humans overwhelming. Not to mention the noise. Clean roses with a trace of last night's rain washed away the ballroom scent and cleansed me. I walked for a time, heels clicking a staccato against the brick walkway. "Eighteen," I said aloud, feeling so much older. I'd start college in the fall. A small, private college located in the heart of Keller, the city a mile from the Lunar Castle. I'd live on campus, a drastic change from the forests and huge stone structure I'd grown up with, but I wanted a change. And if I was honest, I wanted something away from my parents and pack. Maybe then I'd find the love I craved. "Jozlyn?" a voice asked from the shadows. I jumped and pressed a hand to my chest. My senses zoned in on the voice, eyes trying to see past the shrubbery to the person lurking there. There was no scent I could detect, no sound, which was probably the reason I hadn't heard the man. "Who are you?" I growled warningly. "Show yourself." "You're not Jozlyn." I narrowed my eyes, and widened my stance defensively. "What do you want with my mother?" There were always attacks on the queen and king's life, even on my own life. Guards accompanied us everywhere they went, pack members who had decided to stay with their alphas. Others of the pack had spread out across the country, seeing no need to stay in the castle when the war with Nyyrikki finished. I hadn't been alive at the time, so I had no memory of the event. The man stepped from the shadows, taller than the bushes that hid him with the build of a hunter. I almost kicked myself, feeling absolutely stupid. He was a god, probably one of Tabiti's friends. The forest goddess had introduced her wolves to many others of her kind, ones thought to be legends. Gods had the ability to mask themselves completely, and it was no wonder I hadn't scented him. I relaxed, alert still, but not defensive. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Tabiti invited a guest." The man stiffened. "She didn't. I came to—" he stopped. "You are her daughter?" I nodded, confused as to why the god was here. I didn't get a dangerous vibe from him, but I also didn't know him. "My name is Sheba." He stepped forward, completely out of the shadows and into the light thrown off from the ballroom. I swallowed my gasp, and forced my rising blush down. The god who stood in front of me was indeed tall and powerfully built, but there was more, a ruggedness to him. His skin was tea brown and his hair black as midnight, but it was his eyes that entranced. A vibrant shade of gold that contrasted sharply with his darker appearance. The warm shade did nothing to soften the angular planes of his face, the stubborn tilt of his jaw, and the dark slashes of his brows. He was not a being to trifle with. "Nar," he returned, gauging my reaction. "It is your birthday?" "How could you tell?" He nodded to the cone paper hat atop my head with the bold printed BIRTHDAY GIRL across it. I blushed, and then pinched myself to stop it. "Oh, forgot about that." "You look like your mother," he commented, "but your hair is lighter." I fingered a ginger curl before brushing it back and smoothing my hands down my sapphire dress. "I get that a lot. Mom's looks, dad's temperament." He nodded sharply and tucked his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. Silence reigned before he broke it. "I should get going." "Wait!" I cried out, rushing to him and nearly bowling him over. "Um, stay. Join the party." He sliced his head to the side in negation. "I can smell her." "Who?" His lips thinned, before he visibly forced the muscles to soften. Nar reached down and let his fingers trail through the ends of my hair, short nails running over my shoulder. "I thought she would have a son," he said quietly. I leaned into the caress, feeling warm and . . . something else I couldn't understand. "A lot of people thought so, but here I am." Nar leaned down so his lips touched the shell of my ear. I felt small, dwarfed by his size even at five eleven in three inch heels. The god didn't touch me, except for the fingers still trapped in my curls and the lips on my ear. "Happy birthday, Sheba." I melted at the tone, warm and inviting, directly contrasting the coolness I'd seen in his expression. I reached up, needing to touch the god, know him. Cold air greeted my fingertips, and my eyes opened to see a rosebush were Nar should have been. "Sheba!" my mother called from the open doorway I'd slipped out from. I searched around, looking for the mysterious god whose only attribute I knew was his name. Nar. It sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure why. God, did I want to know why. Know everything about the man. Something fluttered near my heart, lust maybe? I grinned stupidly, foolishly. I couldn't want a god, I needed to find a mate. He must be a god of love or something because wolves didn't mate with gods, didn't desire what they could never have. "Sheba!" my mother called again. "Coming," I yelled back. Turning on my heel, I took a step and stopped. Had the world just shook? I held still, wondering if there was an earthquake. Then it did it again, thumping my heart against my ribcage. Pain shot through my body, and I arched wildly before falling to my knees. Sweat misted my skin as the beating continued, growing stronger with every second. I cried out, collapsing completely. My body felt like it was being torn in two. I scrapped my nails against the brick walkway, smelling blood, salt, and flowers. Three more thumps and the pain blinded me, robbed me of my senses. I thought my mother and father rushed to me, but I couldn't be sure. I was simply one giant string being strum by invisible fingers again and again. Then it stopped, grew eerily silent. I waited for the next painful thump, but it never came. Instead, it was replaced by a male voice that was as deep as mine was high. It rumbled through me like a storm, "I. Am. Back." Lunar Dream Ch. 02 Hey, This is a book for me. No reason other than that. I wanted to write it, and continue with these characters to understand why I started writing. It's not edited because I didn't want to have it edited. If you find errors, well, you find 'em. If you don't like the story, well you don't like it. -S *** I woke with a clear image of fierce green eyes filled with sorrow and heartache. My fingers went to my neck, feeling the skin. It was instinctive. Where am I? A distant memory of being carried by strong arms washed over me. A gentle voice filled with power saying, "Demir, she will be alright. She is just overwhelmed because of the party." Raven and Tabiti had carried me back to my room, leaving my parents to deal with the party. An event that—if the thumbing coming up through my floor boards and the shaking of my cotton sheets was any indication—was still going on. I looked down, happy to see myself fully dressed and in perfect health. I twisted this way and that, trying to find a bruise or a gaping wound, anything but my memory as an explanation for the pain. It had been real, and it couldn't have disappeared without a trace. But smooth, freckled skin was the only thing I saw. My body didn't feel any different than it had in the garden. Well, my ardor had cooled considerably, but that was about it. A knock reverberated along the bedroom door. "Sheba. It's Nick." Nicholas Robbins, my Uncle Matt and Aunt Kayla's son. I didn't hesitate in my reply to the beta wolf, "Come on in." The cream sheets were tangled around my legs and I kicked them away as I swung my feet over the bed and padded to the couch on the other end of the room where my parents had carelessly thrown my heels. I'd practiced for weeks to walk a straight line in the three inch stilettoes and had finally accomplished it last week. They looked gorgeous, made me feel hot, and hurt like I was walking through a field of needles with every step. The door swung open on a creak before shutting with a click. Nick stood by the door waiting politely for me to invite him the rest of the way in. All the betas did it since I was the alphas daughter. My father had made it clear that all the males—especially the young, unattached ones—treat me with respect or they would be treating some serious wounds. I waved my hand at the couch. "Have a seat, Nick. My parents told you to check on me." He answered the statement like a question. "You know it." "Freaked out?" He shrugged and flopped on the couch. "No worse than usual." When I was eight and had gotten my first splinter, my father had demanded his second go and buy a variety of tweezers. Only the best for his little princess. When my mom had finally come back and seen my splintered finger, she's casually pulled it out with her nails, put a Band-Aid on it, and told me to go play again. My father was the extreme, and my mother was the relaxed of the pair. Yet in stressful situations, my mother was the one who freaked out while my father was cool as a cucumber. The pair met in the middle when it came to life or death instances, donning cool and calm mantles of authority. "Want to tell me what happened, Bee?" Nick slid in easily. "Nope." I still stood in front of the shoes, debating slipping them back on. "Leave them off." 
I sighed and tapped my foot. "But I like them." "Like what?" Nick asked. I turned to him and tilted my head. "The shoes. I want to wear them." He gave me a funny look and shrugged. "Then were 'em. No one's stopping you." I frowned and turned fully, arms akimbo. "But you just said—" "Nothing," the voice rumbled again, harsh like it was burned by decades old whiskey. I don't know why I ever confused it with Nick's smooth vodka tones. His was soulful, but not deep. "I spoke, silly child." My hackles rose and my eyes raced around my room. Was he handing behind the fireplace, in the secret passage behind the floor to ceiling book case with the first edition Moby Dick without a hint of dust like its cousins? Under my canopy bed, covered by the sweeping amethyst bed skirt? There wasn't much else: an ancient wardrobe taller and wider than me, the purple velvet chaise Nick lounged on, and a few scattering knickknacks that weren't big enough to house a man of his size—err, the size the voice seemed to evoke. I pictured six feet six inches, muscled to the tips of his fingers and toes, swathed in darkness. Rich and cultured, the sort of man stupid women went after, smart women fell in love with, and cocky bitches died by. "A wonderful complement, Sheba." My blood went cold. I'd been looking at Nick when he spoke, hoping he was as alert and wary as me. He wasn't. Arm thrown over the back of the chaise, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, eyes half lidded, looking at me curiously. Lips turned up in a small smile. His pose said he hadn't heard a damn thing, and that nothing was wrong. "Come now," the voice chided, "it only took me a minute to understand what happened. Surely, you can do so with three. Daughter of alphas, chosen by a goddess, pretty little princess. Were you birthed with no gifts? Or only the useless ones?" "Shut the fuck up!" I snapped, scanning the room again. Hoping there was a dark figure behind the cream curtains, on the clearly displayed balcony, or in the high rafter. Anywhere that was visible. "I didn't say anything, Bee," Nick said slowly. He rose with the careful movements and inherent grace. "Something going on I should know about?" "Think, child." This was not happening. There was too much in my life as it was. As the man—if I could even call the voice such a paltry word. Man was Nick. Not . . . him—had pointed out. I was a werewolf and a princess. As much as I hated to do it, I turned inward, covered my ears with my hands and concentrated all that I was on myself. "Who are you?" I didn't speak aloud. If the voice didn't respond then I'd know he could read my mind, and vampires weren't yet out of the realm of reality for me. There was a spark somewhere inside of me, like a flame igniting as the voice responded. "Nyyrikki. God of the hunt." Holy shit. I had a god inside me.