The lunas pack, p.1
The Luna's Pack, page 1
The Luna's Pack
LM Lissette
Copyright © 2022 LM Lissette
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Sarah Ritcher
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
About The Author
For my daughter, may she find the purity of true love.
And also for those out there that dream of a love that will overcome all.
Chapter 1
The cafe is shrouded in darkness as the sun begins its slow climb to start the day. My cup of bitter coffee lost its warmth a while ago, yet I’m still cradling it like we’re friends. I gaze at the walls decorated with framed photos and clippings. On the wall, just beyond the counter, hang some framed clippings of old newspapers. A more senior man smiles and waves as he gets out of a car. The heading above the picture says ‘The President Has Died’. That was 36 years ago. Twelve years before I was born. Where I live was called the United States, and we had a President. A whole lot of good that did us.
They called it the War of Worlds, only it was just our world. Militias rose and grew in numbers so fast that they overthrew nearly all of the governments. Countries began destroying all the war machines they could get their hands on when the militias started bombing one another. In an attempt for peace, the militias met in neutral territory and agreed to ban electricity. They said they needed to remove power from every entity, so they literally removed power. I wonder if they were as stupid as they sounded. When I was a little girl, I used to ask about how things were then, but now I don’t care.
I’m exhausted. It was a long night, but the horses made it to the buyer, and I’m still alive. I wish I could focus on that, but I can’t stop obsessing about the unknown.
“Need some more?” A familiar voice pulls me out of oblivion with a jolt. “Coffee, Darya.” Rosalee is standing right in front of me, across the counter. She smiles and taps on her tin coffee pot. “You’re about a million miles away, girl. What’s eating at you?”
I look up at her. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Maybe I need to lay down for a while.” I push my cup toward her and rub my eyes.
As she looks down at the table, she tops off my cup and sees my grandmother’s ratty notebook under my hand. I pull it under the counter and slip it into the pocket along my thigh. “I don’t know why your father gave that to you,” she says with a frown. “Your mother would have had a fit if she were still alive.”
My father found the notebook after my grandmother died. It details quite a bit of our family history. The strangest fact was that the gender of the children flopped with every generation. The men had little girls, and the women had little boys. If there were multiple children, only one was able to have a family of their own. Because of this, Rosalee could not have children, but she is the only family I have left, and I try to be grateful for her. I’m unsure if she feels the same way about me.
“She was your sister, Rosalee. Are you sure you don’t know anything about this?” Truthfully, I’ve always felt like she is hiding things from me. I have nagged her about our family for years. According to my grandmother’s notebook, all women who marry into my bloodline die giving birth. Rosalee says it’s just a coincidence, but it would explain why she and I grew up without a mother.
She shoves my cup back at me rather abruptly, and some spills onto the counter. “She was my half-sister, Darya. She got all of her crazy from her mother,” she sighs. “I have told you so many times that it’s nothing but nonsense.”
“But there’s another language in here, Rosalee,” I spit out as if it’s a factual statement toward its validity. We have this argument frequently. I’m not even sure why I bother at this point. Rosalee continues to look down at the counter as she wipes up the spilled coffee, shaking her head and frowning. Sighing, I change the subject, “Rosalee…my mother. What was my mother like?”
My question brings her back around as she smiles broadly and leans on the counter. “Your mother was kind and gentle,” she says. She reaches out, pushing the hair away from my eyes, and hooks it behind my ear. “She had beautiful long brown hair like you, but she always wore it in a braid.” She tugs the end of my hair with a smirk. I twist it out of her hand and flip it back behind my shoulder.
“Did she know what would happen?” I ask. She frowns and raises her eyebrow at me, so I rephrase the question for her. “Did she know that she would die?”
“Darya, we’re not doing this. Your mother was beautiful and sweet, and she was so very excited about you.” She slaps her rag on the counter. “She would’ve been an amazing mother.” She nods, nearly snorting at me, and I suddenly feel horrible for making her angry again.
I frown at her. “I’m sorry.”
She nods again, straightening out her gray-haired bun and dabbing the sweat on her wrinkled brow. “Good. Now I have something I think you’ll want to see.”
She curls her finger, beckoning me to follow her. Directing me down the dark hallway to the back door, she walks around the counter. The only thing behind the cafe is her house.
“Rosalee, I’ve seen your house,” I grumble, unimpressed.
“Hush, child,” she scolds. “A stranger rode into town today.”
“Oh, goodie,” I say sarcastically.
I have never been interested in her gossip, and I’m not really in the mood for it now. I’m too tired even to hide my irritation at this point. I sigh and roll my eyes just in time for her to turn around and see me do it.
She scoffs. “This is not about the stranger, Darya. It’s what he rode in on.” She flashes a crooked smile and opens the back door.
My eyes land on the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen when I step out onto the porch. Tied to Stanley’s hitching post is a large, black Friesian mare. Rosalee’s husband is pounding nails into her massive hooves to secure her shoes. Her head is down, her chin resting on the post, and she is nearly asleep. She’s clearly no stranger to hard work.
Rosalee raises her eyebrow and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t an officer.”
I can’t take my eyes off of the mare. “A civilian rode in on her?” I’ve never stolen from a civilian. I lean down on the railing, staring at her. She’d fetch a high price in the city.
“A rather nice-looking young man.”
“Polite, too,” Stanley chimes in with a wink as he stretches out his back.
“But does he have a rear end as nice as the one on her?” I ask with a grin.
Stanley shakes his head and returns to work, knowing I only say things like that to push Rosalee’s buttons. I can’t help but laugh at Rosalee’s shocked face.
She slaps my shoulder. “Why would I be looking there?” She clicks her tongue in disgust. “He had a nice face, kind even, and nice hair. Although, like you, he could use a haircut.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” I wrinkle my nose and wink at her. Rosalee tries to be old-fashioned, but it’s not my style. She wants me to find a husband and have kids, but I’m a wanderer. I haven’t found anywhere I want to stay or feel like I belong.
Rosalee frowns, showing all her years in the wrinkles around her eyes. “I wish you would settle down and stop running off. One of these days, you’re gonna get caught, and I don’t want to think about what they’ll do to you.”
Reaching out for her shoulder, I flash her my cocky grin. “They haven’t caught me yet.”
As my words come out, there is a loud crash inside the cafe. Rosalee raises her eyebrow at the back door as I reach for the handle. I pull the door open and peek inside. Not seeing anything, I open it wide for Rosalee and follow her inside. I attempt to close the door quietly behind me, but just as it’s nearly closed, Rosalee grabs my shirt and pulls me. The door slams shut in my hand. She shoves me into a closet beside us and gently pulls the door shut.
My head knocks into a box of old linens as I land on all fours. I push myself up off the floor and look around. The boxes are stacked high, but I remember there are no windows here, so the door is my only way out. I haven’t been in this closet since I was a kid. When I worked for Rosalee as a little girl, I used to hide here when the soldiers came into town. Rosalee said the militia’s men were inappropriate to little girls. I speak their language as an adult and can hold my own against them now.
I can’t hear anything, so I creep over to the door and crack it open. With my ear against the crack, I can make out some of what Rosalee is saying.
“I’m not sure why you’d think I’d know where she is,” Rosalee says.
There is some shuffling. “I don’t have time for you, old woman,” a gruff voice growls. “Where’s Darya?”
Well, shit. I rack my brain, looking for anything to help me out of this mess.
“Commander, I can assure you -.” Something stops her from finishing that sentence. There’s a shuffling on the floor in the cafe, and I swing the closet door open. A resounding slap travels down the hallway. I start walking down the hall, but my anger takes over as I near the cafe. I jog past some militia soldiers and shove one against the wall. When my eyes land on the Commander, his back is facing me.
“I’m right here, asshole,” I yell at the Commander with a growl. He turns toward me, surprised, as I hit a dead run. There’s a chair close enough that I jump on it and launch myself at him. My weight is behind my fist as it slams into the side of the Commander’s face, knocking him back into a table. It breaks under his weight. The thud of his body hitting the floor is oddly satisfying.
By some miracle, I land on my feet and use the momentum to launch myself at him again. He puts his arms up to block me, but someone grabs me by my hair before I can get near him. The soldier twists my hair in his hand until he has complete control over me. He stretches his arm out so I can’t hit him. I smile and wrinkle my nose as I swing a boot at his kneecap. He yanks down on my hair and bends me backward, rendering me nearly helpless.
“Darya,” the Commander says through his teeth, “I am so damn tired of you making me bleed.” He climbs out of the table debris and brushes off his uniform. His olive skin does little to hide the bruising that is developing beside his eye. One of his men hands him a rag to mop up the blood. “You are gonna regret it this time.”
Looking over his bleeding eye, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “No,” I chuckle, “I don’t think I will.”
A look of pure, unadulterated hate flashes across his face. “Get her out of here.”
The soldier that has my hair slings me around toward the door. The other men scramble to get out of the way as he shoves me through the doorway. He throws me down in the middle of the street onto my hands and knees. I move quickly to get back on my feet, but when I turn back toward the cafe, the Commander is already in front of me. He catches me firmly by the throat and looks down at me.
Truthfully, I’m pretty short. It’s never really bothered me until now. I can tell the Commander feels a sense of power, being able to tower over me as he does.
He leans down and puts his cheek against mine. “Where are my horses, woman?” He smells like he hasn’t touched soap in quite a while, and the moonshine does little to disguise his bad breath.
“I’m going to need you to be more specific. Which horses?” I instantly regret saying that as his hand closes on my throat. His eyes travel over my body and stay a little too long on my chest. I smile. “They aren’t in my shirt.”
He relaxes his hand and smiles. “We’re gonna check, you know, just to make sure.” He laughs. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”
He licks his lips and steps into me so that we’re nearly chest-to-chest when something behind me catches his eye. The Commander pushes against my throat, causing me to step back. I suddenly turn into old news as he groans with a sly grin. As quickly as he was on me, he now slings me out of his way. He snaps his fingers and points to me without actually looking in my direction. His men approach me but stay at a distance, eyeing me apprehensively.
The Commander marches through the crowd, stopping at a man I’ve never seen before. His features are handsome, with smooth cheekbones and the scruff's shadow on his face compliments him well. His hair is as black as night, falling over his ears and touching his eyes. As he moves to fold his arms across his chest, every muscle flexes beautifully. I let my eyes wander over his body, and my lower lip pulls between my teeth.
“Dax,” the Commander slips the name through his teeth, dripping with disdain.
“Anthony,” the stranger says calmly. “How are the kids?” His tone is light, as though he’s talking to a friend while he looks plainly at the Commander. They both stand a few inches taller than most of the crowd.
“I wouldn’t know,” the Commander complains. “Been chasing this damn horse thief up and down the mountains for nearly a year now.” He jams a thumb back in my direction. “Hasn’t left much time for family life, ya know.”
The stranger’s eyes shift behind the Commander and lock onto me. His gaze travels up my body in a way that has my blood rushing to my cheeks. When he reaches my eyes, my breath catches in my throat. Something on the back of my neck starts to burn as if I’ve been stung by a bee. I reach my hand up to feel the burning skin or swat away the bug, but my hand stops and falls back against my side. I look down at my arm, confused, and can’t even convince the other to try to move.
“Looks like you probably should’ve just stayed home, Anthony.” The stranger points to his eye and laughs at the Commander. He’s only taken his eyes off me for a moment but is now back studying me. I know I have to be showing my panic all over my face. I have a burning pain on the back of my neck, and my arms will not investigate it. If the stranger notices, he’s not showing any sign that he cares.
The Commander scoffs. “She’s feisty.”
Now would be the perfect time for me to get out of here. The Commander is distracted by this man, who is obviously more interesting than I am. I look around for an escape route and notice my feet moving. First, my arms won’t move, and now my feet are moving independently. My breathing becomes short and shallow as I hyperventilate. I flick my eyes in the direction my feet are taking me and see the stranger still staring at me. I’m trying to get away from them, and my feet are just wandering in their direction. And what is with this Dax guy? I’m losing my damn mind.
Dax shakes his head ever so slightly, and my feet stop. He reaches up for his neck and stops just short of touching it. Dax balls his fist up and jams his hand back down by his side. He winks in my direction as if that should have some powerful, calming effect on me. He leaves his eyes trained on me but returns to his conversation with the Commander.
“Don’t suppose you could just forget about seeing me today?” Dax cracks a grin, but it is unclear who he’s flashing that at since he’s still looking at me. Every time he speaks, there is an unmistakable flutter in my stomach. His blue eyes seem to dance in the sun. My neck sears just a little more, and I suck air through my teeth from the pain.
“Now you know that bounty is just a little bit too high to watch you walk away, Dax.” The Commander snaps his fingers, and more soldiers emerge from the crowd with rope to bind Dax. They cautiously approach him with their ropes held out as if they anticipate trouble from him.
Annoyed, Dax flicks his eyes at the men before shifting them back toward me. He puts his hands out, wrists together. “I guess you have to try at least, right?” He winks at me again. Or maybe he was winking at the Commander. Right now, I don’t give a damn.
The burning on my neck intensifies to the point that my vision blurs. I hold my hands out but lose my balance as the ground begins to spin. I stumble slightly to the side without anything to grab onto to steady myself. I look up to see if Dax is still looking at me. With the spinning, I can’t focus, and everything fades to black as if I’ve closed my eyes. My knees buckle under me as I hear a shrill whistle. I should have hit the ground, but something grabbed me before I passed out.
Chapter 2
In the darkness, voices begin to materialize over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. There are multiple voices, but none of them I’d consider familiar. The only one I recognize belongs to Dax. The others belong to women who seem to be arguing with each other. I decide to leave my eyes closed and pretend I’m still unconscious. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.
