A Crimson Fate (Veil of Moonlight #1)

1. Brinley

Chapter 1

Brinley

B rinley twirled around with her arms spread wide and her head tilted up to the sky. Smoke from the nearby fire danced through the air, mirroring the jubilation taking place under the twinkling stars. The drumbeat quickened, and she moved to match the pace. Locking her eyes on her favorite constellation high above, she kept the dizziness away.

A calloused hand grabbed hers, and Brinley stopped just long enough to meet André’s warm gaze before he twirled her around once more. She laughed with her best friend, taking in this moment. Around them, people danced and ate and hummed along to the wordless melody floating along the cool night breeze. She was so grateful her grandmother had given in to her request. After days of traveling and being detoured through the countryside on their way to Créll, she’d seen the solstice celebration taking place and begged to stop for the night. Her grandmother wanted to continue on to the next village, but Brinley had been persistent enough.

Turning, she spotted the woman sitting on one of the logs around the firepit.

“Happy Solstice, Grandmère!” Brinley said as she approached, bending to embrace her. “Thank you for letting us celebrate here.”

It was far more fun than the night she’d anticipated—sitting in an inn, playing cards with André and some of the other guards until she went to sleep, maybe sneaking one of their flasks away from them.

“Happy birthday, my dear.” Her grandmother smiled, but there was something in her gaze and posture that told Brinley she wasn’t as glad to be here. “You can have just a little bit longer, then we need to get some rest. We’re leaving at dawn.”

Brinley nodded but kept quiet. She reminded herself that after today, everything would be better. For years, she’d stayed away, hiding in a similar small village to the west, where people avoided her or treated her like a pariah. But finally, she was heading home. In just a few days, they would be in the capital. She would be back at the castle.

Facing the party again, she grinned. This town felt different than the one she’d left behind. These villagers had welcomed them with open arms and invited them to join in their celebration. Brinley spotted André sipping on a pint of ale as he talked with one of the guards. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she also wanted to have fun with her friend. Before she could make a decision, he glanced her way, his dark eyes meeting hers in the flickering light of the fire and lanterns surrounding them. He beckoned her with a waving hand, gave his drink over to the other man, and then guided her toward a table laden with food.

As she ate a small pastry, André asked, “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

She swallowed the sweet. “Very much.”

“Good. You deserve it.” He grabbed a macaron from a tray. “Especially with all the hard work you’ll be put through soon.”

“Yes, my tutor is quite harsh. I can only imagine how difficult he’s going to be now that I’m to learn magic.” She gave him a pointed look. Though, in truth she was excited. A sorcière couldn’t start their training until they reached their twenty-first birthday, and while most families didn’t strictly follow this rule, her grandmother did. She’d been adamant that Brinley waited. But now, it was time.

André only shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows, maybe he’ll take it easy on you the first week as you get reacquainted with court life.”

She chuckled. “Doubtful.”

He winked, making her laugh a little harder. When Brinley moved to West Trillor, her grandmother had sent her own apprentice to accompany her. He was nearly a decade older, and he’d learned directly under her grandmother most of his life. They were practically family at this point. As a powerful and extremely intelligent wizard, he served as both Brinley’s personal guard and tutor, but he’d also become her closest friend. Her only friend if she were honest.

“Dance with me?” She held out a hand. “Or would you prefer to ask that guard you were flirting with before?”

André shook his head and rolled his eyes, even as he took her proffered hand. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you honestly think I’d abandon you tonight of all nights?” There was a hint of hurt in his voice as he led her back to the dancing crowd around the fire. Unlike the balls she’d attended before leaving the castle in Créll all those years ago, there weren’t any steps to follow here. Men and women danced freely, moving to the music how they wished. There was something so liberating about it.

André twirled her around, then dipped her backward. When he pulled her upright, Brinley moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Her short frame fit perfectly against his taller one. “No. I know you wouldn’t.”

He held her for just a few more seconds before whispering, “Your grandmother can see us. If I don’t let go soon, she’s going to make assumptions, and then she won’t let me tutor or guard you any longer.”

Grinning, Brinley pulled away but then froze. The hair at the nape of her neck stood on end, and she turned around, looking into the dark forest. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and listened.

Beyond the drums and the singing, beyond the crackling fire and laughing children, something stirred in the shadows.

“Brinley, what is it?” Concern laced André’s hushed words.

A twig snapped in the distance, and her eyes shot open. “Something’s coming.”

At her side, with one hand on her back, he stiffened. He faced the trees for a long moment before grabbing Brinley by the hand and dragging her away from the edge of the clearing.

“DeLoup!” he yelled over the celebration. Wolves. “Run!”

Chaos ensued. Parents swept up their children, racing toward the nearest homes. Shutters were sealed, and doors were locked.

These villages were well used to wolf attacks and knew what to do. Many homes in this region had cellars with steel doors for this very purpose. The cruel shifters held no mercy, not caring if they destroyed innocent families, so people took every precaution possible.

“Take the princess inside!” her grandmother shouted as she neared Brinley and André. She didn’t look at them, instead staring into the shadowed forest beyond the fire pit, her hands flexing at her sides as she prepared to fight off the monsters.

Brinley’s eyes landed on her grandmother—her only living relative. Because the wolves had taken everyone else. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

The woman nodded to André, who didn’t hesitate to pull Brinley up and over his shoulder. She yelled and beat at his back, but she was no match for the large man. Her grandmother followed at a slower pace. Guards formed a barrier around the queen, but Brinley knew they were no match for the beasts prowling the night if outnumbered.

As if on cue, the screaming started.

André burst through the entrance of a nearby home, but Brinley couldn’t focus on anything other than the shifters ripping through the village. Her bare feet hit the cold wooden slats of the floor as André lowered her.

“To the basement. Now.” He led her by the elbow to the stairwell.

A loud crash sounded outside, followed by shattering glass and more wailing. Brinley’s eyes burned. The DeLoup were slaughtering her people. Possibly her grandmother.

“Why was there no warning?” she whispered as they made their way down into the cellar.

André turned on a gas lantern. “I don’t know.”

She barely heard the words, lost in thought. For nearly a century, Les Sorcières and the DeLoup had been at war. But the attacks had slowed during her grandmother’s reign, to the point where the witches, wizards, and wolf shifters coexisted in a fragile peace throughout the queendom. Even so, Brinley’s people had learned to be cautious. There were still pockets of unrest, wolves who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—let go of the past and continued to kill witches and humans alike. Not only did many homes have these shelters, but villages kept diligent watch around set perimeters. When the DeLoup inevitably arrived, bells went off, alarming the people with enough time for them to get behind the steel-reinforced doors.

Except this time, there was no alarm. Nothing had warned them.

Standing with one hand on the door, ready to slam it shut should the beasts make it inside the home, André shook his head. He’d lost his family to the wolves too—an orphan like her. It was what initially bonded them back when he was merely her grandmother’s student, despite their age difference.

Brinley inched closer. She knew he was waiting for the queen or any other stragglers before shutting the door. He would wait as long as possible.

A crash echoed above them, and Brinley jumped. André closed the door most of the way, watching the top of the stairs. They waited one beat, then another. When no one appeared, he looked around the room. He grabbed a sword from one of the hanging sheaths on the wall. His magic would protect them, but he always insisted it was better to be armed and prepared too. She followed suit, taking one of the shorter daggers and stepping up beside him. He’d trained her with blades as much as knowledge over the years.

Meeting her gaze, he whispered, “Stay here. Watch the stairs and be ready to close this the second you see one of them.”

Brinley shook her head, tears brimming her eyes. “Please don’t go.”

He pulled her close to kiss the top of her head. “I have to see if it’s one of our people. They could be hurt.”

“You could get hurt if you go.” She would say anything to get him to stay, this man who’d become her brother in all the ways that mattered. “Please don’t leave me.”

A thud sounded on the floor above them.

“You know I have to,” André said. His healing magic could make all the difference. “No matter what you hear, stay in this room. Promise me.”

She swallowed past the tightness threatening to cut off her breathing, knowing he couldn’t just sit by if someone was suffering. “I promise.”

With that, he crept out of the room and up the stairs. Brinley took his spot, placing one hand on the steel door as he disappeared from sight.

After a long, quiet moment, she heard shuffling. The distinct sound of a growl made her heart race. They were inside.

She gripped the dagger tighter, willing it not to slip from her sweaty palm. The sounds of fighting broke out, but it ended too soon. Tears rolled down Brinley’s cheeks as the house fell silent once more.

Then, footsteps neared the stairs. Human footsteps.

Hope bloomed through her. Maybe André had won. He was powerful and could easily take out one wolf if that was all there was—even two or three, probably.

When a tall unfamiliar figure came into view, her blood turned to ice. The dagger dropped as she grabbed for the door with both hands. She wrenched it shut, but she wasn’t fast enough.

The man shoved against it before she could slide the bolt in place, flinging her onto the floor. She grabbed the dagger and scrambled away until she met the wall behind her.

With a snarl, the man moved toward her at a leisurely pace. She stood, holding the blade out with a shaky hand.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?”

Fear clawed its way through her entire being. “I demand you leave at once.”

“And a feisty one at that,” he said, closing in on her. “I think I’ll have some fun with you before you join the rest of your people’s ashes.”

Brinley clenched her jaw, trying not to let him know just how much his words affected her. When he reached for her, she sliced across his arm.

He glanced down at the dripping blood and then back up at her. Irritation filled his eyes. Quicker than humanly possible, he gripped her wrist and twisted.

She screamed, letting go of the weapon.

The man pinned her against the wall. Pain throbbed through her wrist. She had no doubt it was broken. He leaned in as his other hand went to her throat, not quite cutting off her air yet but showing her his strength. “Or maybe I’ll just rip you to shreds right now.”

His grip tightened, and true terror filled her. She used her free hand to try to pry his fingers off of her neck, but he didn’t budge. She kicked and scratched, doing anything she could to get away. Or at least draw breath into her lungs.

“What’s this?” a deep voice said from the doorway.

The man who held her looked over his shoulder. “Found another one hiding, sir.”

The formal tone surprised her. He’d been so slimy mere seconds ago. When the other man neared, she realized why. He practically oozed power that only came from being an alpha.

“Who are you? Where’s?—”

“Let her breathe,” the newcomer commanded.

The first DeLoup immediately loosened his hold, as if he couldn’t resist the order, and she coughed, sucking in air.

In the lantern’s dim glow, the alpha’s piercing blue eyes met hers. Brinley gasped, and he flinched slightly. It was so minimal, she thought maybe she’d imagined it.

“Not this one,” he said.

“Sir?”

The man grabbed her captor’s shoulder and pulled him away from her. She slumped against the wall, cradling her injured arm to her chest. Wondering if she could get it quickly enough, she glanced down at the fallen dagger.

“It won’t do you any good,” the new man said, drawing her attention back up to find him staring at her.

“Sir, I didn’t think you would mind,” the creepy one said. “We’re going to kill her anyway, right?”

The alpha stepped between them, his eyes never leaving hers. Pure power radiated from him. He stopped just in front of her, towering over her. Her stomach lurched. With his sharp jaw covered in stubble and a thin shirt straining over his broad chest, he would have taken her breath away even if she didn’t know the truth.

That a vicious beast lingered within him just beneath the skin.

“Not this one,” the DeLoup alpha said. “She’s coming with us.”