1. Mireille

The bunker is so much better than before. That's what they tell me anyway.

Except I am fascinated by the past. I want to experience the true heat of a shifter. Trapped underground every sensation multiplies by a hundred. Uncontrollable lust. To feel waves of desire so intense the only answer is to willingly walk into a room not knowing whose hands or lips will be the one to ease the burn. 

How is that even possible? Surely you bump or accidentally roll onto another couple? 

Maybe it wasn’t really ever that dark and anonymous. I couldn’t imagine how my long silvery hair or green eyes wouldn’t be visible, even if only for a second. I tried to ask my mother, Luna Elvie once, but she simply blushed. 

“Those days are the past. We have things under control now,” she smiled sweetly, stroking my hand. “It was a necessity back then. It wasn’t love. Wolves are powerful, demanding spirits.”

“But isn’t it what us shifters are meant to feel?” I challenge, a rare occasion for me.

My mother’s face tightened, “I promise, you are lucky not to experience such a feeling.”

I’m pretty sure she was lying. Regardless, as the Alpha’s daughter I’m off-limits. A life spent semi-underground is not what men my age want to sign up for. So, I drink a powerful tea that kills the natural cravings of the underground heats. Leaving me numb and bored.

The Light is almost a monastery. Tucked away in the far north it’s pilgrims stay all summer to watch the miracles of the Moon Goddess. Then remain underground, encased within metres of snow and ice for the winter. Repeat until the end of time.

Ducking my shy frame into their suite I ask, again, “Are you totally sure you want me to take over the Ceremony tonight?”

“Mireille,” my father urged, his rarely used voice forcing me to pay attention. He looked like a guardian angel with his white hair and blue eyes. “It's your time.”

“But why me? Other people have lived here all their lives too!”

What I really mean is, what if the Moon Goddess refuses to cast the healing light down tonight? Tonight is supposed to be my big night in the spotlight. I'm terrified of failing everyone.  

To stand in the stone courtyard of The Light and command the Moon Goddess to heal the injured and sick gathered is a huge responsibility. This is the last Ceremony of the year, snow already inches thick on the ground. The Freeze is imminent. 

Twenty-five years since my parents first took over this old fortress, pilgrims still arrive every month of summer. Scars, broken bones and the pains of old age can be removed under the beam of light.

I’ve grown up with a double life. During the summer months I live with sunshine and crisp blue skies. Cragged black mountains blanket the horizon. The grey fortress buzzes with life, our community welcoming every visitor. The balmy summer nights are long and merry.

However, we are constantly preparing for winter. Metres of lethal ice and snow are coming. The Freeze. Then we live underground in a beige and gold padded world. The wildly ravenous sexual urges of before have been well and truly calmed, replaced with meditation spaces and chimes. 

It doesn’t stop me from imagining.

However, there is a new disease among our nation. It attacks quickly, like leprosy. Bruises and bleeding, unconsciousness then death. Hence why we have gained the grizzled, red-bearded Howen and his daughter Hope amongst our numbers for this year's Freeze. 

They made a desperate drive up here, but just failed to make it in time. As the others rejoiced in being healed from their ailments he cursed the sky with clenched fists. 

Then great heaving sobs wracked his muscular body. Howen’s white shirt was soaked in dark, claret pain as he pressed her greying body to his chest. His fiery-haired daughter, Hope shifted and fled, her fox-coloured wolf fleeing the fortress, howling away into the night. 

"Mireille, go find her!' my father had snapped trying to quieten the panic in the courtyard.

Shifting, I found her miles away. Naked, shifted back screaming in fury at a series of black rocks. I’m not prepared for this. I’ve only ever celebrated life and healing. 

They returned weeks later, along with a scruffy blonde-haired local named Ryan. Suffering from broken ribs, he explained that across the country how a plague was wreaking havoc. 

Most families were shutting up and hiding away, the infected driving towards The Light were dying before making it. Our scouts verified Ryan’s statement. For the first time in my life I look at the ragged outcrop of mountains in the distance and feel fear. 

Hope, still wracked with grief, found her mate. At the last full moon Ryan claimed her. The beam faded as we all watched their bond click into place as he grabbed her to him with a ferocity that made me feel like voyeur. I remain alone. Unwanted and waiting for my life to begin.  

As evening falls, I stand atop the fortress walls trying to spot any latecomers on the horizon. We have only a few hours before the Full Moon. Thankfully tonight’s pilgrims appear to be fairly low drama. Some wounded from fights, some suffering arthritis. 

Maybe I can perform this Ceremony and not fail everyone. The dark doubts that choke my dreams will be proven wrong.

“This more your usual crowd then, people with minor grumbles and old age?” Hope muttered bitterly, her arms across her chest. Wrapped in a long black fur coat her long red hair fluttered out into the breeze like a warning flag.

“They’re people in enough pain to make this journey,” I replied, feeling defensive. “They wouldn’t come if they weren’t in torment.”

“You sure?  They don’t even do the wolf run after to honour the Goddess,” Hope sniffed with derision.

“My family always does it even if the pilgrims don’t.” I corrected her before launching my own attack. “Where’s Ryan? Isn't he leaving tonight?”

Hope huffed, adjusting her gloves and fidgeting. “He still won’t change his mind. He’s staying above ground. Leaving me here.”

We stood in silence watching the preparations below. Huge flood lights lit the place, dazzling our eyes. Black shadows crossed the world beyond the fortress as the pilgrims sipped drinks and talked in the courtyard below.

“I guess claustrophobia is a real thing. It’s really not for everyone being underground. Even with all the amenities, it still messes with your head. I’ve seen people really struggle with it.”

“You’d be mad not to find it fucking awful, I get it,” Hope scoffed, studying the scurrying Arlen and Sol. The pack Beta’s, forever bald with soulful, dark eyes. They were preparing the snow-dusted ground for the Ceremony, scattering dried purple Monk's Pepper flowers and hauling a wooden pulpit into place. 

Hope stood fiddling her coat. “I don’t want to do it either. But I can’t leave my father, I really thought Ryan would stay with me, you know. Like a mate should.”

“Spring will come and he’ll be there, waiting for you I’m sure,” I reassure, not that I have a clue about the mate bond myself. 

Yet to even kiss a man, I am the last person the beautifully freckled Hope should be approaching for relationship advice. “He has a plan for while you are apart?”

“Yes, he told me he is going to be getting all that organised, ready for us to start a life together after the Freeze. But to leave when we've only had a few weeks together as mates just…stings.”

“You’re looking after your father while he grieves, he’s preparing for your future.”

"You really do know nothing about relationships Mireille, I wanted him to choose me. Like a mate should,” she pouted. A fact I had no comeback for.

The grieving Howen had been offered sanctuary at The Light. He knew my parents from the olden days and was a fascinating character. He had been under the light twice and remained mute. Nothing the Goddess could do would make him speak. Not even losing the love of his life. 

Though his body was clear of scars, his face bore lines of pain. Wrinkled crags that made him look twenty years older than my father. Bright green eyes buried within sagging skin and wild, roughly braided locks of red hair. 

Hope refused to leave him. In her words, if she had to endure one winter in a shitty underground asylum in order to take him home in spring she would do it.

Frustrated with the button Hope turned around, shielding her eyes from the glare of the lights. “I just thought the mate bond meant...hang on, someone’s coming?” she exclaimed. I span around to spy a truck making its way along the snowy track. 

“They’ve got an hour, I had better tell my parents, catch up after yeah?”

Hope nodded, her face creased in thought. “See you later,” before I clipped my way down the stone steps, leaving her standing on her own, staring into the night. 

I only get a few metres away before I hear the squealing of tyres, shouts and the sickening sound of punches flying as Hope flies past me, a whirlwind of red hair “Ryan!”

.