The Unforgiving Moon

15.

We had been running for a night and a day when we arrived at the sunburned village. I had started tiring fast, but Lotta seemed unnerved and her wolf grew restless whenever we'd stop for too long.

She had anticipated our arrival when she left, and two pairs of black clothing were hidden just outside the forest that lined Spitta. My heart fluttered and wrenched at the thought that she had only ever meant to come back here with me–and me alone.

My skin burned when the fabric grazed it, and my body longed to rest, to heal. But my mind screamed to leave, to run away, to leave this forsaken place and to save myself. You will die here, a small voice warned me.

But I chose to ignore it and to stay with her. Because even if I couldn't help Aven, I could help her. My friend needed me.

She is not your friend, that voice hissed, like a snake curling around my mind and constricting my thoughts. She has brought you here to deliver you to evil.

But I shoved the thoughts aside. She couldn't be like him, could she? She couldn't be working with them, with the murderers of her second half, of part of her soul?

Yet, she had stayed away for so long. She had killed two of her pack members to get to me. She had left me there to rot and all alone. Yes, she has, that voice whispered and repeated.

But then I looked at her–and I saw home. I saw my friend. She couldn't possibly be like Jerr, she could not hurt me in that way.

So I chose to trust her, like she had done to me. Fool, that voice echoed, but the sound soon died and disappeared.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, as we were lying low behind a bush. The town life was there in the distance–almost close enough for me to see it.

We'd been careful in the forest, not to run into any of the guarding wolves. And as soon as we had passed the borders of Fire Moon grounds, Lotta had started masking us.

But she was tiring fast.

"Can't we rest, first?" I inquired, my voice small and fragile, as if one gust of wind that was just too hard could shatter it and send it to the ends of the world. "We're both tired and weak."

Lotta vigorously shook her head. "Time is a luxury we do not have, now. Right after the battle, Beckett was acting normal–for his doing, anyway. But a few days ago he's radically changed. And I can't help but think it has something to do with Aven."

My ears pricked when I detected a small tremble in her voice. I had never seen Lotta scared, I realized. I gulped. "What do you mean?" My voice was even more brittle than before.

She pursed her lips before she answered. "I don't know," she said. "He's been more... unhinged. I mean, he's always been blood-thirsty; the man's batshit crazy, but a few days ago he went on a killing spree in the town. He killed entire families–children, Sari. Just because some of the men had been overheard talking about some weird rumor about Sariranyasa coming back to punish them."

I shivered as the sight of it flashed before my eyes–and I could not look away. Though I knew Beckett had never been above killing children. He had done it before, when females lost their babes so no Death Moon wolflings would be born into his pack.

Lotta seemed to read my mind, to recognize the hesitation on my face. "You didn't see him, Sari. It's like he's lost control. And he's so paranoid. I've been trying to spy on him, to get any useful information about his plans, or where he's holding Aven, but the man shares nothing with anyone. Sometimes I don't even think Wise Moon wolves could get anything out of him."