Chapter 2

Remus

By the time I drove to the house, the moon shone in the dark sky like a beacon of light, and it pissed me off that my existence revolved around a lunar calendar. What was the point of being immortal when I became a goddamn mutt every 29.5 days? I was especially aggrieved tonight since I knew my transformation would be worse due to the blood moon.

I double-checked that my gates were still closed before removing my clothes. I left them on the staircase bannister and made my way into the basement. When I had my basement designed, it was double the size of the house. I’d asked the architects to ensure the concrete was extra thick. The room I locked myself in had a reinforced steel door with a number pad security lock and a traditional key.

The room was bare except for the silver chains. I kept them to remind me of how far I’d come. They were dull and tarnished now, but they held me in place until I no longer needed them. I still remember the pain of having them rub on my skin. They left marks around my neck, wrists and ankles. I closed the door with more vigour than intended before I locked the door and hung the key on the chain out of the small space on the door.

The thin chain was strong but delicate enough for my wolf not to get to it. My failsafe key was built into the room under a thin layer of plaster. Nothing had gone wrong in the 18 years I’d been using the room, but tonight felt wrong. I shook my head. It was probably superstition since it was Halloween.

Why should I fear a bullshit Celtic festival?

I lay on the hardwood floor as I looked out of the tiny window close to the ceiling to watch the moon. It wouldn't be long until I saw it darken. The worst of the blood moon effect would be over from minutes to a maximum of an hour.

I began to take deep breaths as the familiar sensations started pulling and tugging my bones in various directions. I grimaced as the ligaments and tendons in my back did the same. The sound of cracking and stretching surrounded me. The thick dark grey hair was on my hands and arms, and my fingers were still changing. My claws were still lengthening when I swivelled onto my belly and closed my eyes as I gave into the wolf for a smooth transition.

It was never good to fight it.

Within seconds, the change was complete, and I was on my feet, pacing the small room. The constant growl vibrated around my chest, and I snarled each time I came close to the window. The door to the window.

Door, window, door, window, door, window, door, window.

Again and again and again.

The scent of the night air tempting me, the shining door blocking me.

Again and again and again.

Door to window.

My ears twitched up and became firm. I peered out of the window before I put my snout against the bars to focus on the sounds as I tasted the air with my tongue.

Fighting. Shouting.

The rage built up in me, and I began to claw at the window.

Anger. Screams. Violence. Human flesh—blood.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

The drool formed in my mouth and began to dribble out.

Hunger.