The Blood Moon

Curse

"How much further?" I asked as yet another branch snagged my hair.

"Like I said, the alpha is waiting outside of the vampire's territory." Heather didn't provide any additional information and seemed unconcerned about the rough terrain both my bare feet and swollen ankle were crossing. At least the forest by Moonshade had a trail.

I grumbled my displeasure, but despite my desire to turn around and call the whole thing off, I kept up with the wolf's brisk pace. I'd made it that far, I figured I might as well see it through.

At least that's how my past self felt. My present self could only groan at my failure to read the room and get the hell out of there.

"Just over here," my guide said, her voice eager and her body snapping with electric energy. "This way, this way!"

"I'm coming," I said with a slight whine as my ankle throbbed with displeasure. "Unlike you, I'm not gifted with inhuman endurance."

Again, she didn't answer my retort and so I sighed with exhaustion and lumbered my way through the woods to a small patch of grass where the forest's canopy had failed to guard the undergrowth from the nurturing embrace of the sun. Once clear of the trees, I took a deep breath and glanced around for my guide wolf and the alpha that had summoned me.

At first I didn't notice anything — which when you're expecting something, can be quite an alarming observation.

"Heather?" I called out to the night, my stance hunching with the instinctual alarm that was taking command of my nervous system. "Where did you go? Where's the alpha?"

I spun around, looking for a hint of humanity in the dark trees. The moon was low and the sun still had a few hours before it would peek over the mountains. I had no light, no guide, no bearing on my surroundings. I'd already forgotten the direction I had arrived in. The darkness closed in, wrapping me tight within its blanket. I felt the fear rising in me. The anxiety spurned on by my fatigue and strained emotions. Breathing became short and quick. I kept spinning and spinning.

"Anchor yourself," guided Hen.

"Don't worry," I responded. "I'm not popping out again. I know I survived this, I know that I'm here with you."

Then, the spinning stopped and the pain surged.

My past cried out as my wounded ankle found another obstacle to send my body careening to the ground. The impact shot through my lower back and my teeth clenched against the pain. Tears bubbled up, not due from the extent of the injury, but from the sheer exhaustion. Everything hurt. Everything rejected my commands to move and react. Everything cried out for a single touch of comfort. However, when my hands sought the ground to push myself back up, my fingers didn't find curls of grass or the abrasive bark of roots. Instead, I found a hairy leg, that felt unnaturally cool to the touch.

Surprise jolted my nerves and commanded my body up off the ground. However, my ankle could only withstand so much and I stumbled shortly after finding myself aloft. Clinging to a nearby tree for support, I gained my bearings before looking down and screaming out into the night.

Dressed in a cloak similar to Ryan and Heather's, a man who appeared to be in his late forties lay sprawled out on the ground with half of his torso reclined against the base of a neighboring tree. His belt had been undone so that the front of his thick, muscular body was exposed to the night air. Had I only noticed the stiff, hard member between his legs, I would have assumed the frozen expression on his face was from one trapped in blissful ecstasy. However, the deep gouges in his chest — ringed with burnt, peeling flesh, and painted with dry blood — told me that the wide stretch of his mouth and upward direction of his blood shot eyes, was brought on by a more torturous pain.