Capture (Book 1 in the Wolfen Brethren Series)

The Moons Call

This is edited but there may still be some mistakes.

Neema was drifting in a dark dream of nothingness when a tingle down her spine caused her to shoot up in bed. Wiping the grogginess from her dreary eyes, she immediately knew something was not quite right on this cold night. The air was as still as it was every night, well as still as she could sense from underground. Nevertheless, the hair on the back of her neck stood up as a warning. Shuffling around in her bed, she first checked to make sure her younger brother and sister were fine before she investigated what had awoken her.

The two children lay curled in a ball on the small bed in the corner of the room, their small huffs of breath assured her that they were okay. Their little bodies clinging to one another like vines.

When she was sure they were still deep in their sleep she climbed out of her warm covers and headed over to them. Staring at their innocence brought an overwhelming feeling of love and longing. She wished she could see them this way more often, so oblivious to the hardships of life but it was too late. Her brother was already skittish and her sister barely spoke a comprehensible word, the two children had been scarred by this world long before they could even understand it. Neema had tried to protect them but what good could one female, who was barely a woman, do for two angels in a world shrouded in darkness. They had been dealt a cruel hand, but so had all humans.

Stroking their rough curly hair and smoothing her fingers across their dry skin, she committed them to memory. She would forever remember them like this, every time she saw Caillum stare blankly back at her or whenever Jana stuttered on a word she couldn't form, frustration clouding her lovely brown eyes. Neema would remember how beautiful and untainted they were in sleep.

Kissing their little brows, Neema looked at them one last time before she began a quick perusal of their room. Everything was as it should be but still Neema felt a niggling at the back of her mind, something was not quite right and she would not be able to rest until she knew what it was. Anybody else would have dismissed the wave of unease that washed over her upon awakening and in the past so would she, but she had learnt harsh life lessons. Lessons that taught her that by ignoring her instincts she would be welcoming anarchy and death.

It was only a matter of time until they were found.

Walking over to the door Neema popped her head out into the corridor and analysed the dimly lit hallway. Although she was merely a young human woman her light brown eyes scanned the room with the practice of a trained wolf. Her ears perked in an attempt to detect any uncommon sounds. The night wind whistled its silent tune and yet Neema felt her unease grow to new heights.

Her feet glided across the harsh floors of her home as she began a steady stroll out of her room. The corridors were winding, long and narrow and the walls were cobbled and rocky, indented with small stones and large ones alike. Loping down the corridor, she trailed her hands across the walls, feeling the rough stones graze her callused hands as she made her rounds through her home. The familiar pebbles scraped across her knuckles as she made her way through the maze of corridors.

The air became frosty as she drew closer to the mouth of the cave, the close space began to expand as she reached the old iron stairs that signaled the entrance to the village.

The small stoned ceilings extended outwards and upwards towards the earth above them. The tunnel like corridors branched out into a large area that was framed by the centerpiece of the rustic stairs. The bronze, rickety stairs spiralled up towards a stone alcove that was lit by the pale moon light that filtered through bars in the ceiling.

Stepping into the lighted room Neema began a slow climb up the stairs, her pace increasing as she travelled up. The higher she climbed the more steps she skipped as a sense of urgency she did not feel before began to kick in. Her bare feet clambered along the cold metal as her arms gripped the banister for support. Her hand slid along the sharp metal as she pulled her self up the steeply winded stairs. When she reached the top of the rocky alcove, she stopped for a short moment. Forcing air back into her lungs before she could move onto the next obstacle. Breath huffing from her mouth she pushed her long brittle hair away from her face, her bony fingers clutched her chest as she tried to regulate her breathing.