Page 11 of The Huntress and the Blood Moon (The Huntress #1)

T he wolves come in the middle of the night.

Carmen wakes to a strange scratching sound, like something’s grinding down a path that creates a lot of resistance. She’ll later see it’s from claw marks in the trees all around their tent—a mark of territory.

Of ownership.

“Lacie,” she whispers, pushing against Lacie’s shoulder until her eyes open and peer up at her in the darkness. “Something’s out there.”

Lacie sits up and looks toward the zip-closed door of their tent. Both of them listen intently until they hear the sound again. “Is it a bear?” she whispers.

“In the desert?” Carmen asks.

“Maybe coyotes?”

A low growl comes from behind them as the scratching persists in front. “There’s more than one,” Carmen says, keeping her voice low. “Do you have your knife with you?”

Lacie nods, pushing the blankets aside and reaching into the dark corner of the tent.

Carmen does the same, her fingers wrapping around the familiar eight-inch blade she’d tucked beneath her pillow before they went to sleep.

She looks back at Lacie and presses her finger to her lips before carefully moving toward the front of the tent.

She has no doubt that whatever is out there knows the tent isn’t empty, that they can smell her and Lacie in here, but she wants to try to use the element of surprise and attack first.

A few strides on her hands and knees brings her to the closed flap.

She pinches the zipper between her fingers, but just as she starts to tug it down there’s a crash behind her, shaking the entire tent with the force of it.

Whipping her head around, she locks eyes with a massive wolf that’s torn through the canvas, its dark fur standing tall around the scruff of its neck and down the length of its long back.

Carmen screams when she realizes its maw is clamped down tight around Lacie’s shoulder, causing blood to flow freely down her arm.

It begins to back up out of the tent, pulling Lacie with it.

“No,” Carmen shouts, launching herself at them both. She wields her knife out in front of her, jabbing it toward the wolf’s face. Its growl grows louder as it moves quicker, pulling Lacie all the way out of the tent and disappearing from view. “Let her go!”

“Carmen!” Lacie cries out.

Carmen curses, shoving herself through the torn hole of the tent. But the wolf keeps Lacie just out of reach. “Drop her!” she yells, frantic. “Drop her right now!”

A chuffing sound reverberates from the wolf’s throat, as if it's laughing .

She dives forward again, blade swinging, and manages to nick it across the cheek just as a second wolf stalks out of the darkness, much bigger than the first. Its fur is lighter, a copper tinge shining beneath the full moon.

Its eyes narrow on her, teeth bared. She watches in horror as it stands on its haunches, its menacing face shifting from that of a wolf to one of a man.

His red hair reaches his bare shoulders, his eyes an icy blue.

“Put the blade down, or she dies,” the creature— werewolf —says through a wicked sneer.

Carmen drops the knife without hesitation.

“Let her go,” she begs. “Please, you can have anything you want but let her go .” The wolf who has Lacie pinned must clamp its jaw harder around her shoulder because she lets out a squeal of pain.

Carmen’s heart hammers hard in her chest, her throat constricting with a level of panic she’s never ever felt before.

“Hmm,” the man in front of her hums, a cocky grin curling from his terrible mouth. Even in the darkness she can see his teeth are yellow, his skin dirty. “I’m afraid we can’t just let her go . . . it would go against direct orders,” he says.

“What orders?”

“Order to send a message, of course. You’re lucky that’s all it is.”

Carmen glares at him. “Then say whatever you need to say and let her go,” she orders, “or I’ll skin you both alive and sell your hides for pennies.”

The male chuckles. “This isn’t the kind of message that can be delivered with words. Not effectively, anyway.”

“Then what?” Carmen asks, exasperated. She drops her gaze to where Lacie’s sprawled out on the ground, still gripped tight by the first wolf, and sees that she’s crying. Her blood flows heavier now, her skin and shirt around the wolf’s mouth near-black with the mess of it.

Lacie watches Carmen intently as tears stream down her face, her lips moving to round out the words, I love you.

Carmen throws her a hard look, as if to say, None of that.

“It’s a message that can only be delivered through pain, I’m afraid,” the male says, drawing Carmen’s attention back. He looks at his companion and nods before shifting back into his wolf form and stalking toward her.

Carmen takes a step back. She’s unarmed, unable to defend herself or Lacie with anything but her anger and fists. But the wolf doesn’t pounce. He doesn’t growl or show his teeth—he simply watches her, taking one step forward for every backward step she takes.

She realizes much too late that the wolf is herding her away from Lacie, growing the distance between her and the other wolf. When the wolf in front of her lets out a dark bark—a command—the wolf holding Lacie growls.

And then rips away the flesh from Lacie’s neck.

Lacie screams out a bloodcurdling cry that feels like a dagger to Carmen’s heart.

“NO!” Carmen shouts, launching to close the distance between them. The wolf in front of her pounces to stop her, swiping his sharp nails at her thigh, claws sinking deep into her skin. But his fight to hold her back is half-assed—he knows the damage has already been done.

Carmen tears herself away from his grasp and runs to Lacie, falling to her knees where she lies on the ground. The dark wolf moves away, leaving Carmen to look at her wounds, at the jagged shreds of flesh and tissue in ruins along Lacie’s neck and shoulder.

There’s so much blood . . . it’s everywhere.

Carmen tries to stop it from flowing out of Lacie’s body, tries to press her hands down around the crude marks of teeth. Lacie whimpers in pain. “Carmen,” she says, panicked. “How bad is it?”

“You’re going to be fine,” Carmen promises her. But there’s already a lick of doubt curling inside her gut—she’s losing way too much blood.

“That looks pretty bad.”

Carmen whips around to find the copper wolf has half-shifted back into his human form. “Fuck you!” Carmen shouts. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

He smirks. “You can try. But before you do, make sure Warren knows this is what happens when he sets out to kill our family. Tit for tat, and all that.” He gives her another crude smile before shifting himself back fully into his wolf form, and he and the dark one race off into the night.

Carmen turns back to Lacie, finding her face pale and eyes dull. “Lacie, hold on, okay? I’m going to get you some help . . . we just have to make it to the car. I’m going to carry you, okay?”

“I love you,” Lacie says through a rush of breath before coughing as blood fills her mouth. “I love you so much, Carmen.”

“No!” Carmen shouts, grabbing hold of her chin. “Absolutely fucking not, Lacie, don’t you dare think you can just leave me like this.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Lacie continues, ignoring Carmen’s pleas. Her lips curve in a small smile. “You’re the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever known.”

“Lacie! No!”

“There’s a ring I’ve been saving for—” She flinches, swallowing roughly as more blood pools in her mouth. “I was going to find the perfect moment. To make you mine for good.”

Tears fill Carmen’s eyes as she wipes blood away from her chin and cheek. “I am yours for good, Lacie. I’ve been yours since the day we met and will be yours for the rest of this life and the next.”

Lacie smiles, eyes closing. Her breaths are shallow, and she starts to pant to get more oxygen. Carmen knows the internal bleeding is only getting worse by the minute, and they’re so far from the nearest city . . .

“Tell my dad I’m sorry,” she gurgles through another rush of blood. “Tell him it’s not his fault. Make sure he knows this isn’t his fault.”

“I’ll tell him,” Carmen says, voice breaking. “Lacie, please don’t leave me,” she begs through watery tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

Lacie strains to reach her hand out, to cup her palm around Carmen’s cheek. “You’ll never be alone, Carmen. Never.”

Carmen watches in horror as her hand drops to her side, her eyes growing distant. Lacie rattles out one last gurgling breath, and then goes completely still.

Carmen feels her entire body shudder with the most excruciating pain she’s ever felt.

It’s like her heart is ripped clean out of her chest, her soul utterly shredded.

She doubles over, pressing her forehead to Lacie’s warm chest, and sobs for what feels like hours, until her eyes grow dry and there’s nothing left to expel.

As the sun begins to rise in the east, Carmen sits back up and stares down at her dead lover, wondering how her body can be right here, right here beneath her hands, and yet .

. . and yet she’s just gone. She wonders what happens when you die, when your soul leaves your body and crosses over the veil to whatever place souls go.

Is Lacie already there? Is she truly free from the pain of this place?

Carmen can’t stand to think of her being alone someplace in the dark, tucked inside a rip in the world with no way back to her. She definitely can’t stand to think about what comes next on this side of the living, on having to figure out how to eat or sleep or breathe without her.

The idea comes to her quickly.

She looks up and spots her blade on the ground where she dropped it, glinting in the morning light. It takes a great deal of effort, but she manages to crawl to it. To grip it tight in her hand. And then she moves back to Lacie’s side, curling herself around her body.

“I love you,” she whispers into her ear, pressing a kiss to her cooling cheek. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”

She lifts the knife to her own neck, closing her eyes and steeling herself for the pain. But just as she’s about to press in and pull, to rip the knife’s blade clean through her own throat, something overcomes her, a sweep of shimmering light flooding all around her.

Carmen opens her eyes to find not just the light of dawn in the sky, but a cloud of sparkling dust, of tiny, glowing particles of gold and silver and colors she’s never even seen before lighting up the space where their bodies lay.

The dust swarms around her, overcomes her, humming against her skin.

Goosebumps explode along her flesh from the top of her head all the way down to her toes as the light seems to nuzzle her. Comfort her.

Her eyes fill with tears. “Lacie,” she breathes out. “Is that you?”

Tendrils of light move to float in front of her before curling around that hand still clutching the knife. Her hand relaxes, the knife dropping onto the hard dirt beneath her. It curls around her once more, flowing against her skin and through her hair.

And then it shoots toward the sky.

Leaving Carmen alone again.