Gray Moon Rising: Seasons of the Moon (22 page)

BOOK: Gray Moon Rising: Seasons of the Moon
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Eleanor shoved him off of her, and Seth saw cold calculation flit through her eyes—two werewolves, one gun, not enough bullets—for a half second before she jumped.

She didn’t go for Rylie or Abel. She grabbed Seth and smashed the shotgun into his gut.

Both wolves froze. Their golden gazes were unsettlingly calm.

The fight raged on below them, even as everything on top of the pillar went completely still with tension. Seth couldn’t tell who was winning anymore. There were bodies scattered across the ground—some wolf, some human. He had a hard time focusing enough to count when there was a gun in his stomach. He flushed with heat.

“Get down, Abel,” Eleanor ordered.

It looked like it pained the big wolf to obey her. He slowly backed off the rocks. The parting clouds let silvery moonlight spill across the top of the mountain, like the moon itself wanted to see what was happening.

Then his mother nodded to Rylie.

“Change back.”

It was a ridiculous order. She couldn’t do that. Nobody could—not even Bekah and Levi. As soon as the moon rose, werewolves were stuck until sunrise.

Rylie’s luminous gold eyes met Seth’s. He saw the possibilities in them. More than that, he saw the humanity.

She was in control.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

A shudder ran through her body.

The change back was slow, and almost beautiful. Fingers emerged from paws. A girl’s face formed beneath the frightening veneer of the wolf’s. She straightened as her fur fell away, and stood straight-backed and proud in front of Eleanor.

One by one, the hunters and werewolves struggling stopped moving to stare, as if Rylie had thrown her arms over her head and started screaming. Yet there was gravity to her silence. A werewolf, human on the full moon—impossible. But she had done it for Seth.

“You see?” the older woman panted, jamming her gun harder into Seth’s side. “I told you she’s the Alpha!”

“Just let him go,” Rylie said.

“Walk to the top. Do it. Go on! Call your gods down, and tell them to save you!”

She turned to obey. Seth watched her retreating back with dismay. There was no way it could end well—there would be no gods waiting to intervene. Eleanor would shoot her, or she would shoot him, but someone was going to die.

The clouds parted as Rylie walked to the top of the peak, her bare feet melting the ice as she passed. The moisture on her skin steamed.

A swollen silver moon loomed overhead. It was so huge that it looked like Rylie could reach out with her fingers and brush its surface. Stars scattered in the black patches of the sky, peeking through even the tiniest gap in the clouds. It was like they were watching to see what would happen.

“Call them!” Eleanor shouted.

The fighting stilled as Rylie lifted her arms to the moon, opening her body to its rays. Her eyes fell closed.

Seth broke free of his mother, scrambling up the rocks. “Rylie! Don’t do it!”

A flash of pain erupted in his skull. He landed face-first on the stone, and his vision swam. It wasn’t until he rolled over and saw his mother holding a rifle with his blood on the metal that he realized she had rammed it into the back of his head.

It was all he could do to roll over and watch as Rylie moved to the very edge of the rocks. She smiled down at him. Her eyes weren’t gold anymore. They were filled with the silver of the moon.

“Sorry, Seth,” she whispered.

And then she jumped. Her body vanished over the side.

Silence filled the air.

The surviving hunters exchanged looks. The werewolves seemed rooted to where they stood.

“What happened?” Yasir asked. It looked like he had won his fight against Jakob. The other hunter was unconscious at his feet. “Where did she go?”

Eleanor walked carefully up to the highest pillar on the peak. As soon as she left Seth’s side, the shaggy brown wolf that was Abel joined him again, standing protectively over his body. He smelled even worse as an animal than as a human, and that was saying a lot.

She glanced at the moon before looking down to search for Rylie.

“Well?” Stripes asked.

“I don’t believe it,” Eleanor said.

A pale hand shot over the side of the ledge, caught Eleanor’s ankle, and jerked her over the side.

Seth’s mother screamed as she fell.

The sound cut off with a
crunch
.

Seth felt sick and dizzy and horrified and relieved all at once. Emotion swamped him. He reached up to grab a fistful of Abel’s fur to steady himself, and he thought there might have been pain in his brother’s reflective eyes.

Slowly, Rylie pulled herself on top of the rocks, and stood on trembling legs—human legs—to look at everyone else. With the moon at her back, her white-gold hair looked like it was aflame with moonlight. Her eyes were still silver, and they were filled with new knowledge. Whatever happened when she faced the moon and stepped over the side had changed her.

She opened her arms again, but it was to the wolves instead of the sky. “I’m supposed to tell you all something. Something important.” She faltered. “But you won’t understand like this, will you? You guys should change.”

Abel groaned beside him. Seth heard snaps and pops, and realized with a dull shock that his brother was shapeshifting.

One by one, every werewolf changed back into human form. Their bodies jerked. Their spines cracked. Humans emerged where animals had been a moment before. Even Bekah and Levi, who turned out to be sitting near Yasir, resumed their human forms.

When it ended, everyone stood up and looked at each other in confusion, blinking like they had woken up from a very, very heavy sleep.

“What the hell just happened?” Abel asked when he realized he was naked on top of a mountain.

“Holy mother of God,” whispered one of the hunters.

“Okay. Here’s the message,” Rylie said. She didn’t yell, but her voice carried over the air anyway. “They said they’re sorry. This was never meant to be a curse. But human nature’s a tricky thing, and when you try to stick animal souls in with human ones, it gets confusing. So they’re sorry. It was a mistake, and they… um, they said they love us.” She gave a small, shy smile. “Sorry. That’s all I got out of it.” She faced the hunters. “Now put down your guns.”

Nobody moved. Yasir raised his voice. “You heard the girl. Put down your guns!”

The hunters finally obeyed.

Seth staggered to his feet, and Rylie made her way down the pillars to stand with him and Abel. Everyone kept staring, like they weren’t sure what to do without being told. Rylie’s skin burned with heat when Seth hugged her. “What was that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I went up there, and it was like… like the moon talked to me. And when I climbed back up, it showed me how to make everyone human again. I think it’s just for the night, but… it’s over. For now.” She bit her bottom lip. “Do I sound crazy?”

“Yes,” Seth said.

Abel grabbed Rylie’s hand. “What did they look like? What did they sound like?” he asked urgently. “I mean, my God, what does it mean?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I told you everything I’ve got.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry about Eleanor.”

“Don’t,” he said. His eyes were filled with anger, but not at her. “Never, ever be sorry about that.”

Yasir climbed up onto the rocks. They all tensed, but he didn’t attack.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he asked Seth.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, I know what command would tell me,” Yasir said. “They would tell me to shoot all the werewolves anyway.”

“Command also put my mom in charge,” Seth said.

“Yeah. There’s that. But our primary mission is to protect humans, and I don’t see any werewolves here. Do you?”

They turned to look over the peak of the mountain bathed in moonlight. There weren’t as many bodies as Seth originally thought, but there were still too many. The fight had been short and brutal. Three hunters had died. So had a half-dozen werewolves. But the dead wolves were the only animals in sight. Everyone else was very, very human.

Rylie reached out to touch Yasir’s arm. He jerked away from her with wide eyes, and she dropped her hand.

“Look… we’re all that’s left here. Me and Abel and Levi and Bekah… and those guys.” She nodded to the naked people among the hunters. “We are the last of all the werewolves. And that’s how it should be—I don’t want any more. But we don’t deserve to die.”

“I can’t let you run free,” he said.

“We have a sanctuary. A place where everyone can learn to be safe and controlled. Let us take everyone home. Nobody else should die.” Rylie gave him that look—that one that was so pleading and pathetic that Seth would have done almost anything to make it stop. Yasir didn’t look like he was immune to it, either. He wavered under her gaze. “Let us go home.”

He faced his men. “Move out! Go back to camp!” Yasir glanced at Seth. “Just so you know, you’re not invited to join the Union anymore.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

Yasir jumped down, and the hunters slowly cleared out, leaving nothing on the top of Gray Mountain but a very full moon and a dozen very human werewolves.

E
PILOGUE

Home Sweet Home

The drive back to the
Gresham ranch didn’t feel nearly as long as the drive away had been.

Every window in the Chevelle was rolled down, and a warm summer wind whipped through the car, carrying the fresh aroma of soil and growing wheat. Rylie was curled up under Seth’s arm in the backseat, gazing out at the long stretches of empty fields through her hair as it blew in her face. It had been so long since she had smelled cows and other livestock and the distinct strains of pollen that meant
home
.

She tipped her head back to look at Seth. He was gazing out at the farms, too, and he looked as happy as she felt.

He must have felt her gaze, because he glanced down at her. His crooked smile grew. “What are you looking at?”

“Scruffy face,” she said, reaching up to rub his chin. “You look like a hobo.”

“Oh yeah?
You
look like a hobo.”

Neither of them cared that it was the worst retort ever. He bent down to kiss her. “You people are sick,” Abel called from the driver’s seat.

“Then don’t look at us.”

“I can hear the lip noises. It’s nasty.”

Rylie threw an empty wrapper at his head. “You cannot hear that!”

“Can too. Super hearing. And you guys suck face like vacuum cleaners.”

Seth rolled his eyes and unbuckled to lean over the front seat and increase the volume on the radio. Abel tried to elbow him in the face, but missed. “There. Fixed it for you.”

“Hey! Don’t touch the radio! Driver’s privilege!”

They responded by kissing very loudly. Abel groaned and made a big deal about it, but it was pretty half-hearted. None of them could seem to stop smiling.

Rylie couldn’t think of anything to make the day more perfect except seeing the sign for the Gresham ranch looming ahead of them on the road. She thought that her swelling heart might explode out of her chest. The gray van following them a few car lengths back took the same turnoff they did.

When they met Scott the morning after the moon, they were surprised to find that Stephanie had somehow obtained an old school bus, which was more than enough to transport the surviving wolves to the sanctuary. Nobody argued about getting in once Rylie instructed them to do it, and Stephanie would soon have the survivors under the supervision of the coven.

Rylie had almost joined them, but when Abel found the Chevelle abandoned by Eleanor further down the highway, they decided there was somewhere else they would much rather go.

Dislodging herself from Seth, Rylie leaned out the open window to drink in the familiar sights of the ranch. Not much had changed since she left, aside from the fact that there were no more cattle or goats in the pasture. It was kind of better that way. Smelling the livestock had always made her too hungry.

Gwyn had taken good care of the orchards and garden, though. There were tiny apples growing on the trees. It looked like the lettuce was already coming in.

And when the vehicles pulled around the back of the house, Rylie found Aunt Gwyneth sitting outside the back door. Her silvery hair was twisted into two thick braids, she wore a loose button-up shirt, and her face was shadowed by a cowboy hat.

She saw the Chevelle. Her mouth fell open. She ripped her hat off.

Rylie didn’t even wait for Abel to park.

Throwing open the door, she leaped out. “Aunt Gwyneth!” she yelled, launching herself up the hill.

Gwyn didn’t have any words to speak. She gripped her niece tightly in her arms, and Rylie squeezed back, doing her very best to keep from crushing her. Her aunt smelled
right
. She was rhubarb pie and steak and garden soil and fertilizer. She was the grass in the field and the sun in the sky.

She was family. She was pack. She was
home
.

Rylie gripped her like she would never let go, but she did have to, eventually. But Gwyn only held her at arm’s length. Her aunt’s cheeks were shining, and Rylie had left a big wet patch on her shoulder.

“I have so much to tell you,” Rylie said. “Oh my gosh, so much has happened, I don’t know where to start—I’m so sorry, Gwyn—”

“I don’t give a half a damn about your apologies.” She sounded gruff, but her eyes gave her away. “Look at you! You’ve gotten all skinny. Have they been feeding you? I’m going to have a talk with those boys.”

“They have taken very, very good care of me,” she said with a quavering smile. It lasted about a second before she started crying again, and she had to hug Gwyn some more.

“Hey, don’t forget about the rest of us,” Seth said, putting a hand on Rylie’s shoulder. She backed up a little. He picked Gwyn up off her feet and tried to swing her around.

She pushed him away. “You’ll break my back, son.” But Rylie could tell she was pleased.

Abel lurked a few feet away, staring at his feet.

“Nice to see you, ma’am,” he said.

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