20

Dawn

I couldn't look at him.

The violence shocked me; the pure hatred glinting in Hayden's eyes shook me to my centre. I had never witnessed him act so crazily, so maniacally.

He was wild.

He was an animal.

I still had no clear understanding of what had taken place, only the memory of waking up to a booming voice and an unfamiliar hand on my face, with eyes that didn't belong to my mate staring down at me before shifting to the other figure in the room. Confused, I shuffled away from Dylan and tried to make sense of what was happening.

Did Dylan try something? Why is Hayden all the way over there?

"What's going on?" was all I wanted to know in my sleepy state. With the anger clearly written on Hayden's face, I knew that I wouldn't be getting a clear answer from him. He was distracted by his madness, but I saw his piercing scowl directed at Dylan in response to my question. I guess it was all I needed. Trusting Hayden's judgement and piecing together a probable scenario in my mind, I turned to Dylan wearing a similar expression to Hayden's.

It all happened so fast.

Flashing before my eyes, Hayden slammed Dylan against the wall, ignoring all of Dylan's pleas and snapping at him. I sprang to my feet. I could see the fangs slipping through his lips, the claws protruding from his knuckles. Hayden's judgement had gone haywire. I had to do something: I couldn't watch my mate murder his own best friend.

"Hayden!, don't!" I called. And I regretted it instantly.

A terrifying roar ripped from Hayden's jaws, and I watched in horror as his claws dashed through his skin and headed straight for Dylan's throat. My instant reaction was to look away, so I did so with a petrified cry.

It was met with silence.

Peeking up, I noticed that Hayden had stepped away from his friend, who was shorter than Hayden and unsurprisingly shaky. Hayden moved further back from Dylan; I moved further back from Hayden. All my mind could think about was getting away, escaping. I heard Hayden growl something at Dylan, but his voice was muffled by my pounding heartbeat. The next thing I knew, the front door was slamming and there was no sign of Dylan. I was alone with an animal.

"Are you okay, Dawn?" Hayden spoke softly. I couldn't reply, simply inched away from him further, my face frozen in fear and my hands visibly shaking, poised midair.

"Dawn," he whined. It was a plea.

But I couldn't see past his black eyes that still shone in the dimness.

His hand touched my arm and I jumped a mile high, stumbling slightly as I edged backwards still. His hurt and regret was a pained expression clear on his face. As his eyes faded back to their usual hazel shade, I relaxed slightly. I remained terrified, though.

If I irritate him, will he do that to me? If we argue, will he slaughter me like he was about to with Dylan?

But my subconscious knew he wouldn't. He would never hurt me. Just now, with Dylan, he was protecting me. He hadn't actually hurt his friend, he'd exercised self-control and let him leave. That was enough for me.

I smoothed my hair, took a deep breath and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Yeah," I nodded, shooting him a small smile. "I'm okay."

"Good. Come here." I sped over to him and inhaled his relaxing scent— his embrace was like cuddling up in warm, fresh towels after an ice bath.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he murmured into my hair, and I shook my head in response.

"I was just a little shocked, that's all. I—I've never seen you act that way."

He gripped me tighter, "I will do whatever I need to when it comes to you." His voice was a low, threatening growl.

"Did you need to do that to Dylan?" My voice was quiet and small.

"Yes," he snarled. "He tried to kiss you in your sleep."

I gawked. "What?"

"The little bastard was stroking your face and leaning in while I was in the kitchen."

"Why would he do that?"

Hayden's eyes narrowed and his whole demeanour became hateful. "He has an infatuation with you. Just like the little fuck I held over the staircase."

My jaw dropped, "Matthew?"

"I don't give a fuck what his name is. He serves everything he got."

"Hayden," I said in disbelief, "Matthew does not have an infatuation with me."

His gaze penetrated mine and he raised a daring eyebrow. "Matthew is a little shit who is desperate to get between your legs. And the fucker is pretty public about it, too."

I almost laughed. "Nobody but you, likes me, Hayden—not Matthew, not anyone at school. I've never been approached by a boy that way. He probably wasn't even talking about me."

"You think?" he growled. "Dawn, three quarters of the guys in our village are after you. And the other quarter are either too old or gay."

I stared at him like he was a lunatic. "You're crazy. Just because you're after me doesn't mean that all the other guys are too. You're just possessive and protective."

"That's it," Hayden suddenly boomed, and grabbed my ass, hoisting me up so my legs in instinctively clung on to his waist. "You're coming with me."

"What— Hayden!" I resisted, trying to escape his hold on me. "Where are we going?"

"Laptop," he responded without a beat, speeding up the stairs and into our bedroom. He quickly dropped me on the bed and stepped over to our desk, before returning with his laptop. Once I could properly see the screen, he accessed his Facebook and, with a few clicks, we were looking at a picture of Marcus, Matthew, Ryan and me from a month ago. We had all been to dinner with Marcus' parents— my Uncle Louis and his wife, Jessie —for my uncle's birthday.

I frowned, "I didn't know Matthew put that picture up."

"That's because you don't have Facebook, babygirl." I rolled my eyes.

Hayden smiled satisfactorily as he pointed the screen in my direction more, the mouse pointer flicking across the Facebook page. "Here we go. Comments."

My eyes almost popped out of my skull when I saw what Matthew's friends and Matthew himself had written.

Mike Everson: Fuck look at her tits! She hot af

Matthew Lewer: Mike Everson ikr she looked fuckin buff last night

Jack Fray: Lol boys everyone wanna nail Dawn ur lucky af Matt

Matthew Lewer: Jack Fray Mate Id bang th fuckin shit outta her

"Those disgusting bastards," I spat, reading comment after comment about my 'bangin tits'.

"Tell me about it." Hayden's voice dripped with disdain, his eyes still glued to the screen.

I grabbed his hand and shut the laptop, facing him. "It's okay, Hayden. I'm yours."

His black eyes ran over my face and his voice became low. "Mine," he growled, before claiming me with his lips.

>>

"Hey Mum," I greeted warmly the next morning. Deciding to spend some time with my family, I'd left Hayden to train and walked across the road to my parents'.

"Hey sweetheart, do you want a cup of tea? How is everything?"

"No thanks, Mum," I declined as we sank into the seats at the kitchen table. "And everything's good. We're all just a little nervous— on edge."

Her hands enveloped my own comfortingly. "It's going to be fine, honey. There's something I have to tell you, though, your gra—"

A knock sounded at the door, and Mum shot me weird look before getting up to swing the door open.

"Marla, I've missed you so much," a voice said. Mum, with her back to me, leaned forward and I saw a pair of wrinkly hands closing in around her back to hug her.

"Mum," my mum sniffled. My jaw dropped. Was Grandma here? The same woman I hadn't seen for ten years? The same woman Sid had never even met, only heard about and was shown pictures of?

"Is she here?" the voice said quietly. I watched Mum's hair bounce as she nodded in reply.

And then Mum moved out of the way, and behind her came a woman— an old woman —with wrinkly white cheeks dappled with red spots; baggy floral clothes; a large fabric handbag; an excited expression and her famous bronze key necklace hanging around her neck.

"Dawn?" she said, her tone high and questioning, her voice laced with a dry-throat coarseness that came with old age. I stood up.

"Grandma?" I questioned, but I knew the answer. This was the missing figure in my life, the woman that had always been a mystery, a woman with a strange past and an even stranger present.

"Oh," she breathed out, tears welling in her eyes. "You're so grown up." Her arms reached out as I flew into them, inhaling my grandmother's familiar sugary apple scent.

"Hi, Grandma," I whispered. "It's been ten years."

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry. I should've been here, bringing you up."

I sniffled. "It's okay." I couldn't stay mad at my grandma; the memories of her playing with me and making me brownies on demand rushed back to me. I remembered how she used to read to me, how she would encourage me to draw everything because everything had a secret side. She used to tell me that nothing was fully exposed, that there was always a side to an object that an artist could expose or warp to send a message, that there was a secret beauty to everything. She had been a perfect role model for the three years I spent with her constantly by my side, until she left to resume her travelling.

Grandma pulled away from me and held me at arm's length. "You are such a beautiful young woman." She turned to Mum, who was watching us with a happy smile. "Absolutely gorgeous, Marla. Completely and utterly gorgeous." I knew that she wasn't just complementing me on how I looked; she was praising Mum for raising me well.

"Let's sit down, I'll put the kettle on again," Mum grinned, motioning towards the kitchen table, at which Grandma and I plonked down.

"How was Italy?" I asked as Mum scurried off the the other side of the kitchen.

Grandma grinned, "It was fantastic. I've always had a soft spot for pasta." She then leant forward and lowered her voice so Mum couldn't hear. "And I found it."

"Found what?" I whispered.

She grabbed for the key hanging at her neck and held it up, it's brassy surface glinting in the light. "What this unlocks."

"What does it unlock, Grandma?" I urged.

"Your grandfather's secret palace."

I wanted to scoff, to tell her that it wasn't real, but the excitement in her eyes stopped me. How could I tell her that what she's been searching for is a figment of her imagination? "Where? In Italy?"

She nodded. "In Valchiusella, near the temples of Damanhur. It's beautiful Dawn, you'd love it. It's obviously dusty and neglected inside, but when I move in I'll clear that right up."

I frowned. "When you move in?"

"I have to," she smiled sadly. "I've been looking for it for so long."

"Grandma..." I hated to say it, but I had to. "Does this 'secret palace' even exist? Isn't it just made up?"

"I'm just going to find that box for you, Mum, I'll be right back," Mum suddenly cut in, but neither of us acknowledged her as she left the room.

Grandma looked appalled. "You've been talking to your mother," she said grimly, shaking her head. "She never believed me. Never. But it is real, Dawn, it's real and I know that with all my heart. It was the palace for the King of Wolf Shifters— your grandfather. And when he died, he left it to me. Don't think I don't know about the boy, your mate— I can see that he's already marked you."

I gasped, but kept my mouth shut.

"You have royal blood in you, Dawn— that's part of the reason the Moon Goddess chose you. You are a leader for the Wolf Shifter kind, you are a role model."

"I'm no leader," I managed to get out incredulously.

"You are, you are a Luna now. You may not be a queen to the Wolf Shifters— they don't need that, they need equality, and they need to be ruled by the Goddess alone —but you are the strongest of our kind yet."

"Grandma... I don't know what to do. I don't know if I can be Luna... I don't know if I can handle this stupid upcoming battle. I mean, we don't even know if the Prophecy will come true," I said, laughing humourlessly.

She leaned forward, "Oh, it will, Dawn, I can tell you that."

"Here it is, Mum!" my mother suddenly announced as she bustled into the room with Grandma's wooden box in hand.

Grandma looked up at her and smiled happily, her eyes crinkling as her wrinkles flexed. "Thank you so much, sweetie. I owe you a favour." Mum handed her the box and turned back to the kitchen counter. "Oh, no need for the tea, Marla. Now that I have my box, I should be going. But I won't be travelling for a while now, so I'll come back again soon— perhaps next week."

Mum spun around and frowned, helping Grandma to the door. "Oh... Um, okay. I'll see you soon, Mum. Love you," she said.

"I love you both very much," Grandma said, standing in the doorway. "I'll come back, don't you worry. I still need to meet my other granddaughter— and I need to see my troublesome little grandson again... although I suppose he isn't so little anymore."

"Bye, Grandma," I called. "I love you."