Maikoda: Power of the Moon (Blue Moon Trilogy Book 2) Read Free Page B

watched, her body seemingly floating as the big gray wolf from her dreams reared up. The moon hung inordinately low in the sky and the wolf’s howl was plaintive, almost mournful. She held her breath as he raised his head and howled again, then paused as something caught his ears. 
                  A sudden wind swept through the trees and moved over the grass to where the wolf stood, the sound eerily similar to the wolf’s howling. He listened, ears cocked as the wind stole across the flat plains. Again he howled as the wind returned his missive, until a huge gust almost bowled him over. 
                  He howled no more and walked away, head held high, to a copse of trees and in mere moments a man emerged, auburn hair wild and untamed, hazel eyes flashing fire. He looked up at the moon and glared at it even as he soaked up its essence, his expression almost feral before he strode naked and proud toward smoke curling up from nearby trees. He was a magnificent creature; his steps sure as he walked, his back held straight. 
                  Reaching the village, he scouted the layout, his eyes on a beautiful young woman drawing water on the outskirts. Layla tried to shout a warning, but found that she was unable to render a sound; instead she was only able to watch as the man stalked the unknown woman. He got closer and closer, his expression and movements more and more predatory.
                  She breathed a sigh as the woman stopped her chore and cocked her head as if she sensed she was being watched, but then went back to her buckets. Her long hair was pulled back from her face revealing high cheekbones and dark olive skin. Suddenly the young woman stopped again. She dropped the buckets to help the man who had suddenly appeared near her. He was covered in blood, four long gashes in his side that looked as if they were caused by the claws of an animal. 
                  Layla looked around for the big gray wolf in alarm; the wolf hadn’t seemed so dangerous; he seemed to have a sort of intelligence which had almost endeared him to her. The man reached the young woman and collapsed as she raised the alarm. Immediately, young men from the village appeared and helped her carry the bleeding man to her family home. The man held onto the young woman’s hands, his auburn hair hiding his face.
                  The scenery in front of her changed and Layla blinked in confusion. They were in the same village, but the trees seemed larger, fuller, and greener. The dark of night had given way to the bright of morning. All around her, the natives were preparing for the day and laughter bubbled up from their throats. The young woman emerged from a nearby home. Not the same one she had helped to carry the bleeding man into, but a smaller, cozier structure. 
                  This home lay on the outer boundary of the site, protected by trees on one side and the village on the other. Now, the woman’s stomach protruded from her body and stretched the simple dress she wore as she held a hand protectively against it. A colorful bracelet adorned her arm; the gems braided into it shining in the light.
                  Her head turned towards the house and the man emerged. He wore a similar bracelet and a pair of pants made from the same material as the woman’s dress. She smiled widely and he embraced her, then paused and looked up at the moon. It was big and full and even in the daylight, shone almost as brightly as the sun. 
                  He cocked his head thoughtfully and then looked up directly at Layla, his hazel eyes sad. Hania. The word floated on the wind as they left his lips. He shook his head, almost in disbelief, and then went to join the woman. 
                  Emotions ripped through Layla; it was almost as if he had truly seen her. She wanted to ask him what the word meant. Hania. She had never heard