Nocturne: A Claire de Lune Novel - Softcover

Chapter One

CLAIRE’S HUMAN FORM offered no protection from the chill in the moonlit clearing. She shivered as the early-October breeze licked at her arms and cheeks. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared across the circle, wishing her mother would hurry up and start the ceremony.

A tangled pile of branches waited in the center of the pack. Marie kneeled down in front of it and leaned in, the mist of her breath kissing the outermost tips of the twigs.

Claire’s mother closed her eyes, focusing. The graceful lines of her body tensed for an instant, and then it was over. The fire ignited with a roar, pulled into existence by the force of Marie’s will.

The light and heat spread through the clearing, changing the texture of the air. The forest crackled with power—it was as though the fire had woven threads of lightning, tying the members of the pack together, linking them to something larger than themselves. As the flames grew, the feeling intensified, humming along Claire’s skin, whispering to her about the things she could do.

Begging her to become a wolf.

The pack stood in a circle around the fire, all of them silent. Waiting. The flames leapt before them, the trees towered behind them, and the full moon shone down from above. Everything was ready for their transformation. Marie raised her arms, and with her voice full of the authority that came with being the pack’s Alpha, she began to chant.

She called each of their names, and Claire shifted from foot to foot, aching for the warmth of her fur. As she edged closer to the fire, Claire noticed Judith staring at her. She quickly turned her attention back to her mother but kept Judith in her peripheral vision. From her spot next to Marie, Judith regarded Claire with narrowed, judging eyes.

Claire forced herself not to raise a what’s-your-problem eyebrow and kept her attention trained on her mother. The chant was almost over, anyway. Anticipation tugged at Claire as Marie called her name. This was only her second full moon ceremony since she’d completed her transformation, but every second she spent in the woods—every time she looked at the moon hanging in the sky like an ever-changing jewel—she loved it more.

There were no secrets in the woods the way there were in her human life. There was just the pack. And the ceremonies.

And the hunt.

Marie lowered her arms.

“And now it is time. You may transform.”

The words hung in the air, tantalizing as a ripe apple. Claire forgot about Judith. She forgot about everything but the unbelievable joy of slipping out of her human form and changing into her wolf self. Paws appeared where her hands and feet had been, and her skin gave way to thick gray fur. Claire’s teeth grew sharp, and she felt the sudden, familiar heaviness of her tail.

The instant she changed, her senses sharpened. She could see the individual twigs high up in the trees. Could hear the rustling of something small—a mouse, maybe, or a chipmunk—in the undergrowth. And the smells ... It was almost painful at first, how many things she could smell when she transformed. In her wolf form she could tell that there were four kinds of wood in the ceremonial fire tonight and she could smell the sweet, sighing scent of the autumn leaves dying on the trees above her.

And she could smell pain—the sharp, unbearable scent of pain. It startled Claire, and when she heard a worried whimper coming from Katherine, one of the other Beta wolves, she knew she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the odor. The scent was coming from Victoria, who sat on the forest floor, paws splayed awkwardly, panting hard. After Claire, she was the youngest wolf in the pack, but she was groaning like an old woman.

Sorry, she huffed, in the nonverbal language they shared in their true forms. The more pregnant I get, the harder it is to change. I’ll be okay in a second.

She hadn’t been pregnant that long, and Claire was horrified by how fast her belly had grown. Werewolf pregnancies didn’t last as long as human ones, which made having a baby especially difficult, because it was so hard on the human part of the woman. Claire had seen it—the terrible way Victoria’s skin had stretched, how the sudden change in her shape and weight had made her hips hurt so much that she could barely walk.

Beatrice, Victoria’s mother, walked over and sat next to her, leaning against her flank like she was propping Victoria up.

Marie, can you hunt without us?

Victoria staggered to her feet, her belly swaying underneath her, dragging her spine into a bowl-shaped curve.

No, no, no! I’m okay. I can go. She licked at her muzzle anxiously.

You reek of pain. You will stay here. And your mother will stay with you. The four of us can complete the hunt on our own.

The weight of Marie’s command made Victoria sink back down onto the ground. She looked relieved and disappointed in equal measures. Beatrice just looked relieved.

Marie turned to Judith, Katherine, and Claire. Let’s go.

Without waiting for a response, Marie trotted off into the woods, her ears pricked forward and her nose high, searching for prey. The other three wolves followed. Claire kept to the back of the pack, since she was the newest wolf. She didn’t mind—there was more to do at the back of the hunt than stuck in the middle, anyway. While Marie tracked in front, Claire kept her senses trained behind them, searching for an animal that might not have been able to find a good enough hiding place. Judith and Katherine loped along in between.

It was hard work, running along with the hunt. Marie set a punishing pace and expected the rest of them to keep up. Claire had taken to jogging in her human form, to make sure that she was in shape. She’d die of embarrassment if she was gasping for breath the way Katherine was. If Marie had taught her anything, it was that being a werewolf was a privilege, a life-and-death-risking double identity, and Claire had every intention of living up to that.

Behind her, there was a single, soft noise in the forest. The sound of a step.

A misstep, more like.

Claire whirled around, her head lowered and her shoulders hunched, sniffing the air frantically. The odor was not quite like deer—it smelled muskier. The animal part of her brain supplied the answer at once.

Moose.

Claire gave a soft yip. Her mother pulled up short and circled around, nearly colliding with Judith and Katherine, who scrambled to get out of the way.

Marie pressed close to Claire, her nose quivering.

Judith stared over Marie’s shoulder at Claire, her lips drawn back ever so slightly, showing her sharp, pale teeth. It was a dominant move—almost an accusation. Everything in Judith’s posture told Claire she should have stayed at the back of the line, kept her mouth shut, and let one of the senior wolves find the moose.

Before she could stop herself, Claire rolled her eyes. Judith took a warning step forward.

Marie’s soft yip froze Claire and Judith in their tracks. Whether she hadn’t noticed what was going on or she was just ignoring it, Claire couldn’t tell. Either way, her mother’s tail waved approvingly.

Excellent. Well-spotted, chÉrie.

The praise made Claire shiver. The anticipation of sacrificing a moose—even if it was a young one—zinged through her. The other two wolves shifted behind them, silent as the shadows themselves. Marie turned and acknowledged them with a look.

Claire, you circle around with Judith, and Katherine and I will cut off the path. The order was given noiselessly, all eye flicks and twists of her ears.

The wolves didn’t waste any time. Judith and Claire ignored each other completely as they streaked through the trees toward the doomed animal.

In a matter of moments, the quiet of the forest was broken by the moose’s panicked bellow. And then it was over. They dragged the heavy, lifeless moose back to the clearing, in preparation for the feast.

Later, when the moose had been disposed of and their whiskers were clean again, the wolves ringed the fire once more. Claire hated this part—squeezing back into her human skin after the freedom of being a wolf. It was like slipping into a scratchy set of bedsheets. She got used to it quickly enough, but she dreaded the initial, prickly discomfort.

And Claire still wasn’t used to going through the full moon ceremony without Zahlia. Zahlia had been dead for two months, and though they were not allowed to speak of her—even to say her name—the ragged hole she had left in the pack sent a shudder through Claire every time she passed too close to the memory.

After all, Zahlia had been her friend. Before Claire had found out that Zahlia was murdering humans. Before her “friend” had set up Claire’s mother for capture. Attacked Claire’s boyfriend. Turned on Claire.

Before Claire completely disappeared into the black hole of the Zahlia nightmare, Marie gave the signal and the wolves transformed. As much as she wanted to stay in her lupine form, her mother’s command had to be obeyed. With a sigh, Claire slipped back into her human skin.

Victoria stood next to her, dressed, but with her distorted stomach uncovered. The hem of her shirt had twisted, and she struggled to yank it over her stretched belly. Embarrassed, Claire averted her eyes.

“Damn it!” The curse was quiet enough, but Claire could hear the tears in Victoria’s voice.

“It’s okay,” Katherine soothed. “It’ll be over soon enough. They say that the end is always the hardest part. Just think—probably only one more full moon to go, and then you’ll be a mother. Oh, I’m so jealous. I always wanted a little baby to squeeze and hug.”

Claire squirmed.

Marie cleared her t...