Midnight Vow

Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Also By Acknowledgments About the Author Text and cover design Copyright © 2023 Becky Moynihan All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. And resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Published by Broken Books www.beckymoynihan.com No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher. Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9883737-0-4 Cover design by Becky Moynihan Cover model by Ravven www.depositphotos.com Be wild. Be free. 1 Sneaking out the back door in the dead of night wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. Then again, I wasn’t exactly known for my brilliant ideas. But tonight, of all nights, should have kept me indoors. Tonight, I was the most vulnerable. Most weak. With a soft click, I secured the door’s lock. Not that it mattered. Not when I was on the wrong side of the door. Lock yourself in the cellar, Nora. Don’t come out until dawn, Nora. It’s for your own protection, Nora. Nora. Nora, are you listening? NORA! Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was breaking the number one rule. The rule that had kept me alive for twenty-two years. Even during my time away at college, I’d obeyed the single most important rule: Don’t go out at night on a full moon. I knew what would happen if I did. Knew firsthand the consequences should I be caught. But I’d finally found someone to help me with my little problem. A legit someone. I wasn’t chasing after a wild dream this time. This was real. My family—my pack—would understand. Would support my brave venture. Right? Wrong. They’d lock me in the cellar for the rest of my life if they knew what I was attempting to do. Best to keep my plans to myself. That way, no one would feel compelled to rat me out to Alpha Hendrix. He’d just about had enough of me and my hairbrained schemes. Nora, are you trying to put me in an early grave? he’d say, then delegate me to some menial job as punishment. If I had to dispose of deer guts one more time, I’d pull my hair out. The pack should be cleaning up their own messes, thank you very much. I was tiptoeing around the side of my parent’s old white farmhouse, yards away from my yellow rustbucket pickup in the driveaway, when a shrill alarm went off—the one I’d accidentally set out of habit. Cursing, I reached into the front pocket of my duffel bag and ripped out my screeching phone. With a swift tap, silence descended once again. Except for my heart. It pounded out of control, louder than the crickets singing in the long grass. I stood stock-still. Waiting. Hoping against hope that no one had heard. Several seconds passed and I started to breathe easier. Until my ears picked up a sound. A howl. All the hair raised on my body. The eerie noise shivered through the pine and maple trees backing the thirty-acre property. Followed by another. And another. “Crap,” I hissed, and bolted for my truck. My bag slapped against my thigh as I ran the short distance. Frantically unlocking the door, I wrenched it open and dove inside. Once the door was firmly shut behind me, I scrambled to start the ignition. A pathetic wheeze filled the interior. “Please, baby, please,” I begged the old Ford pickup and tried again. “I promise I’ll change your oil this week.” Another wheeze. “New brake pads? I know you’ve been wanting those.” Wheeze. “Come on!” I shouted, banging the wheel. She started with a sputtering cough. “Yes, yes, yes!” I crowed and flicked on the headlights. When the beams caught on a pair of glowing yellow eyes near the treeline, I bit back a scream. Time stood still as the eyes simply stared at me. Unmoving. Unblinking. Slowly, ever so slowly, I put the car in reverse. The eyes winked out. My heart jumped into my throat and I stomped on the gas, gunning backward down the dirt driveway. My poor truck clanked and groaned over the rough path, the headlights fishtailing every which way. I frantically searched for the eyes again, but they could be anywhere. Anywhere. I was nearly to the road when something huge rammed into the truck. I screamed for real this time as metal creaked and shuddered under the impact. Yanking the wheel, I plowed right into the mailbox before switching gears and stomping on the gas. The truck lurched forward and I cleared the drive, shooting down the road at breakneck speed. Only then did I dare to glance in the rearview mirror. To watch as the pair of yellow eyes gradually faded from view. I spent the next several minutes calming my racing heart and fighting off the need to laugh. Not that anything was funny. Not even a little bit. Laughter was just my natural response to stressful situations. There’s something wrong with you, Nora, but there’s nothing we can do to help. Laugh. Stay away from the other pack members, Nora, or they might lose control of their instincts and kill you. Laugh. When you graduate college, you must come back home. It’s for your own protection. Laugh. Laugh. LAUGH. I should be crying. Bawling my eyes out right now. Screaming. A member of my pack had just tried to kill me. After all these years, I