Lifesong (18 page)

The members of the pack took turns scanning the paper, stepping back once they were ready.

“Now all we need is our melody,” Tucker said, nodding in Luna’s direction.

Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. I couldn’t stand to watch and pressed a hand into each of their scruffs. Luna began to hum, and soon, the other wolves began to howl. Falling into the melody, I sang the words, my voice joined by many others.

On my perch, a ridge of white, I watch the sky, as it fills with light.

From where I am, I see the world fall, Our home, our haven, isn’t one at all.

We walk on pins and needles, as the world lies awake, Pins and needles, Pins and needles

We walk on pins and needles…

My voice trailed off, and I held back a cry when pain stabbed at my chest. Gasping for breath, I gripped at my wolves, unable to hear them and hoping they were still there. No one answered, and for a long moment, I feared the Earth had swallowed us whole. But then I heard it, a faint melody carried on the wind.

Something touched my cheek. Warm. Covered in fur.

“Emma, open your eyes.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Emma

Time stopped then. It was hard to say how long I sat there with my eyes closed after Tucker asked me to open them. Each time I gathered enough courage, the fear of what I might see crept in. Was it really Tucker I’d heard? Maybe I’d imagined it.

And what about Luna? I could feel both of them to either side of me, so either we’d all survived, or we were all dead. I strained to hear something, anything but my beating heart.

Someone—Luna, I thought—nuzzled under my chin. “Why have you not opened your eyes?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I grabbed at her neck fur. “I’m afraid of what I might see.”

Tucker rumbled, shifting his weight to my left. “You’ll have to open them eventually.”

“I know.” My throat was tight. “I’m not ready.”

“Ready?”

“What for?” Luna asked.

“For this to end.”
For your memories to end.
That was all this was, after all—just my memories of them. As soon as I opened my eyes, they’d be gone. They’d be a dream, a story…a…

“Open your eyes,” they urged, pulling away from me.

My heart cried out for them to stay with me, but they didn’t hear it. Resting the palms of my hands on the ground, I drew in a ragged breath.

I took another, slower than before. Was the air thinner? It almost felt as if it were lighter—clean, even.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ground. My hands were still human, but the Earth beneath them had changed. There were still pine needles and snow, but peeking through the natural debris were fresh blades of grass.

I lifted my gaze, scanning the area in front of me, my eyes tracing the outlines belonging to Tucker, Luna and the other wolves. I swallowed and struggled to fight down the nausea as it surged into the back of my throat.

Tucker cocked his head, tail wagging behind him. “Well?”

“Are we dead?”

The wolves laughed at that.

“No, we are not dead,” Luna replied, bumping her head against Tucker’s shoulder.

“How?” It was all I could manage without tripping over my own tongue.

“Why are we all still alive?” Luna asked for me.

I nodded. Luna shrugged.

“It could be because you’re our alpha,” Tucker mused aloud. “Or because you share a bond with the entire pack.”

“Or that you fell in love with two guardians instead of just one,” Luna added. “Funny thing about life is that it’s unpredictable. We can only control our own actions. Everything else is up to fate.”

“Are you still…you?”
Can you still shift?

“Of course we are!”

“So you’re still guardians?”

“You mean, can we shift?” Tucker chimed in, shifting as he did. “Looks like.”

“Does this please you?” Luna padded up beside me before shifting to take me in her arms.

“It does.” I threw my arms around her neck, kissing her on the lips.

The rest of the pack closed in around us, their noses and fur brushing against my legs.

“Looks like the Earth gave us a second chance at life.” Tucker coiled an arm around my waist.

Luna broke our kiss and smiled. “And what do you plan to do with this second life of yours?”

“Love every minute of it.” I hugged them both. “And everyone in it.”

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Bonded

Erin Lark

Excerpt

Chapter One

A chill wind bit at Tara’s face as she descended from the shadowed plane into her lesser human form. The world had changed since her departure nearly a month before—her safe haven of a home had burnt down during her absence. Heat brushed her cheeks, and she forced back her anxiety. The home had very little meaning to her. By now, she’d learned not to get too attached to this world or the material possessions most humans tried to collect.

She raised her eyes to a moonless sky, envisioning the new moon and the power it held behind her xaran curse. Tara bit her tongue—she knew better than to second-guess the decisions of the Divine.
You need to play your part just like everyone else.

She clicked her tongue. It didn’t matter if her being human now kept balance between both planes. The shift always made her uneasy, especially when she was left inside her weaker form. Even so, she’d be stuck here another month, so it was best if she got used to it.

Rousing herself from behind the charred supports of her home, Tara inhaled the scents of alcohol, raw sewage, car exhaust fumes and a long winter’s night. She coughed around the unappetising fragrance, wondering if it was too late to go back—to fall into darkness for another month.

Her lack of a home wasn’t what troubled her, and clothes could easily be replaced—but none had ever seemed to fit her as well as her furred, xaran skin.
Damn this plane and its foolish human creatures.
She spat into the snow at her feet. Although her xaran spirit remained, her appearance cloned those she so readily mocked. She was on their plane now, stuck in her human form with all its attached weaknesses.

Such was the xaran curse—one month of a human’s frail life to every month served under the Divine. Supposedly, it was to retain some form of balance between the shadowed plane and the one connected to everyone else on Earth. It didn’t help that, each time she shifted, she returned a month later than when she left, which usually meant different circumstances.
A lot can change in a month.

Tara growled under her breath and bit her lower lip as she inspected her scant articles of clothing—not nearly enough to keep her warm during the last days of winter. She’d have to get indoors and hope no one took notice of her short blouse, knee-length skirt and fierce, feline-like eyes.
Just keep your head down and mind your own,
she chided herself. Making eye contact with another human usually translated as a formal invitation for conversation and company. She wasn’t interested in either one.

Rolling her shoulders back, Tara straightened her blue blouse and buttoned up the front. Her nipples hardened from the cold, causing the thin fabric to tighten around them. She wouldn’t need to make eye contact at all, not when it came to her lacking a bra and having such a pale complexion.

Tara pulled her raven-black hair from under the back of her shirt, brushing the few flakes of snow from it. The corners of her mouth curled as she imagined her hair looking much like her xaran skin, black as night speckled with dark brown and white flecks. She purred at the memory of the warmth of her xaran skin and everything it entailed.
Put those thoughts out of your mind. Get somewhere warm if you hope to return to that plane again.

Stepping out of her crumpled home, Tara turned left, picking up her pace as she headed for the local bar. Even if she didn’t want the company, the bar was a lot better than standing out in the cold. And that was all this was about—survival.

Tara pressed through the doors to the bar, delighting in the warm air as it blew against her face. Goose bumps emerged all over her body, reacting to the changing temperature and the man staring at her from the far end of the room. Tara averted her eyes and made for the bar, gingerly perching on one of the stools when she got there.

She raised her eyes to the barkeep, inspecting him from under her long eyelashes.

“Tara.” The barkeep beamed, leaning over the bar to greet her. “Haven’t seen you for a time.”

“Evening, brother,” Tara said smoothly.

“Is the night serving you well?”

Tara eyed her blouse, then looked back at him. “You tell me.”

“Ah, I see what you mean.” His eyes grew distant. “I assume you visited your home before you came here.”

“What’s left of it, yes. What happened?”

“Electrical fire.” He cleared his throat. “We have some spare clothes for you in the back, should you need to change into something warm.”

“Thank you, Illistar, but I’ll manage for now,” Tara purred, smiling at the other xaran. “I didn’t see you at the Awakening earlier this evening. Everything all right?”

The barkeep’s eyes widened and he leaned in closer. “The Divine, is she not pleased?”

“She didn’t say. I only ask out of concern for an old friend. Did you not embrace the change?”

Illistar shook his head, gesturing to the space around them. “Someone’s got to look after them,” he explained, referring to his patrons. “Besides, you know I’ve never been one for the shift.”

He was lying of course. He craved it—looked forward to it. Illistar had always shifted at the same time she did. The bar was owned by two of the xaran, each one watching it one month at a time. Last month would’ve been Skyler’s turn to look after it, but, if he had, she couldn’t understand why Illistar hadn’t joined her along with the others.

“How did you do it?” Tara asked, placing her elbows on the edge of the counter.

“Keep from changing?”

Tara nodded gently.

“By keeping my distance from the other xaran.” Illistar ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, his blue eyes reflecting the bar’s dim lighting. “I had to close the bar for a day or two.”

Tara nodded. She knew their ability to shift and jump planes depended solely on their sexual desires. By removing temptation, Illistar must have been able to keep from shifting.

“You look well for missing a month,” Tara said.

More than well, in fact. Tara crossed her legs, ignoring the fact that she and Illistar had shared a few moments of their own during the cycle before last. He was older than most of the other xaran. Tara breathed in his earthy scent, her eyes feeding on his well-formed biceps—the same ones he’d used to claim her as his bonded mate.

Only on the other plane.
The relationship she and Illistar shared within the shadowed realm was out of necessity. A bonded pair was stronger than those without a mate. Healthier. It was rare to see an adult xaran without a mate, but that didn’t mean they loved one another.

“It takes time to look this good, I assure you,” Illistar purred, breaking Tara from her thoughts. “So, what will it be?”

“You know what I like,” Tara said, placing her hand under her chin. “I’m mostly in here to get warm.”

Illistar nodded, his eyes moving from her frame to someone standing behind her. “May I help you?”

Tara turned her head away from the man brushing against her right side. He ordered his drinks and left.

“You sure you don’t want to get out of those clothes of yours?” Illistar teased, handing her a small soda.

“That depends.” Tara smiled at him. “Would you join me?”

“Mmm, your scent is rather appetising this evening.”

Tara’s body tensed, her brown eyes falling to her lap. Her body pulsed under his gaze—his attraction. Illistar knew as well as she did that the xaran were sexually driven during the new moon. And he’d likely take advantage of the fact if she let him. It would take time for her body to cool down.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Illistar warned, his voice firm. “Not with the new moon still upon us.”

“The humans don’t know.”

“No, but I do. It’s risky, Tara. And the xaran in this room don’t need to smell your sexual urges to come on to you. Any lass that comes through that door is fair game to them.”

“And you know as well as I do that the new moon makes one feral. Let them try, Illistar. I guarantee anyone that does will feel it in the morning.”

Illistar nodded at that and went to turn away. “Enjoy your drink.”

He gave Tara a final, warning glance.
Finish your drink, gather your clothes and leave.
Tara knew her closeness bothered him. Even though this was his month to remain on the plane with the humans, that didn’t mean the new moon wouldn’t affect him. After not seeing Illistar at the last Awakening, she was certain he wouldn’t be able to resist his urges this time around. It would be best for them both if she took care of herself and left before the night was through.

Tara eyed her drink, plucking a single red cherry from her Coke. She sucked on it before squeezing it against the roof of her mouth. She might not have liked being human, but they sure had a way with food. Tara savoured the tangy, sweet juices as they slithered down her throat.

She was about to take a sip from her glass when she caught the whiff of another’s scent. Someone was looking at her, and not just anyone. It was the man she’d seen staring at her when she’d first walked in the door. The same man who’d smiled at her when she’d sat down.

She didn’t need to glance back in his direction to know he was studying her smaller form. She was the only female in the room. Tara grimaced, and she sniffed the air, taking in the human’s scent—and his sexual desire upon it.
He’s drunk,
Tara assured herself.
You’re just a piece of meat to him.
Meat or not, his undivided attention intrigued her.