Moonlight Desire: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 1)

by K. R. Alexander

  Andrew laughed. “They can’t catch me.”

  I had to smile at that, remembering seeing him sit in a tree that morning. Even in fur he must be no heavyweight like Kage, Jed, and Isaac.

  “All right, gingerbread man,” I said. “Up to you.”

  “Is it?” He pressed himself upward on one hand, moving toward my face.

  I pushed him back. “And to me. Don’t get carried away.”

  “One kiss? A trial? You could do a lot worse. Those barbarians know nothing about pleasing females. It’s all finding a mate to them. Like I said, I know humans.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Careful, Andrew. If you know women so well you should know that boasting about legions of experience is not necessarily a good move either.”

  “Did I say legions? More like … enough practical world knowledge to be an experience you’ll never forget.” He tried to sit up again, reaching to touch my face, lips parted.

  If I didn’t have Isaac and Zar, even the others, on my mind—both my own misgivings and genuinely being concerned for Andrew’s later safety—I’d have let him. Never mind staying detached.

  Of course I was being played. Still … if the player’s good enough sometimes it doesn’t matter. At least not on vacation.

  He let me shove him to the grass, smiling. “Mind letting me in on a secret?”

  “I guess that depends what it is.” I took another drink.

  “What is it you fancy so much about Isaac? Is it the beard? Because just give me a few days…”

  “I don’t fancy Isaac.” But I blushed, dammit, and instantly regretted defensiveness.

  Andrew lifted his eyebrows in delicate mockery. “Surely not.”

  “All right,” I said. “He’s decent to me. He’s mature and not pushy.”

  “You don’t like pushy?” He cocked his head. “Because I’m seeing just the opposite. Was it the gift?” He looked at the necklace—or at my breasts. Hard to tell with the sunglasses. “And what about the skin virgin, lady hair? Perhaps the poetry? Writing songs for you?”

  “Zar? He hasn’t been spouting poetry.”

  “Oh—” Andrew chuckled. “You just give him time.”

  “Although, now that you mention it, he has also been decent to me. And not pawing me.” I added pointedly.

  Andrew scoffed. “You’re too kind. Think there’s anything clever about a chap who jerks off before he starts a conversation with a tantalizing female? Forget Zar. I’m the only one here worth bothering about, our mountain wolf aside. The rest of them… Kage is busy, of course. Jason doesn’t care so he doesn’t count. Jed is a stranger and a proper bastard. And I mean a proper bastard even by human standards. You’d have to be really thick to fall for him. And we’ve already discussed his yearling brother. That only leaves Isaac and myself. So that’s why I asked about him.”

  “What do you mean by ‘stranger’?”

  Speaking of compulsions: curiosity nailing me again.

  “A wolf spending most of his time in fur,” Andrew said. “Becoming estranged from life in skin with his pack. I hadn’t seen Jed in skin for such a long stretch since he was a yearling.” He stroked my leg, turning in again to glide his tongue over my knee. “It’ll be why Diana sent him. She’d rather see reform than see him go the same way as his father.” He kissed my kneecap. “How do you have skin like fresh cream? The magic touch?”

  I’d spent a whole afternoon at 88 in the Pearl District before the trip, since I’d thought I would be on the beach. Waxing, face mask, spa, whole deal. Obviously, I wasn’t about to tell Andrew that.

  “Just my natural healthy glow,” I said. “Why is being a stranger so terrible that it requires reform?”

  “The first one’s free, darling. After that…” Kissing my leg.

  “I’m not paying you to answer questions—in any way, shape, or form. I was just asking.”

  “You’d pay if you had an inkling of the truths I could tell, oh noble Cassiopeia. You’d be begging me to be the teacher, offering anything. ‘Please, Andrew, please, you sexy beast, tell me all you know about … Isaac, and ravish me till sunrise.’ But—” He sighed. “You don’t have any idea what you’re missing so we can’t expect you to start begging yet.”

  “Yet?” I tried for my, Oh, please, patronizing stare, but I was fighting a grin. His American accent had been flawless.

  “Yet,” Andrew repeated firmly. He licked my knee again, then stood. “May I escort you down to the beach?”

  I missed the pressure against my hip. I also wished almost painfully that I could ask him for everything he knew about Isaac. All of them. All their secrets. All of his own.

  Slippery slope; don’t get too attached; curiosity killed the witch; and all that.

  “Please don’t,” I said. “But I do want to walk down there since we’re here.”

  He nodded, starting away.

  “Andrew!”

  He looked around.

  “My phone, please.” I held out my hand.

  One corner of his mouth turned up. He pulled my phone in the blue case from a pocket in the cargo shorts and tossed it to me. As I caught it, he blew me a kiss, then strode away.

  No one tried to push him off a cliff or otherwise attack Andrew during our sightseeing. Though he kept a good distance between himself and the others all afternoon. Except for Jason—as chummy with Jason as ever.

  When we got ice cream later—which they still ate quickly but not insanely—those two even tried one another’s flavors, caramel for Andrew and strawberry for Jason.

  Watching them reminded me that Andrew had said something odd about Jason. And Kage. I wished I’d used my allotted question for that.

  Best to ask Zar, or Jason himself. Everything was free with them.

  After the ice cream, then a few pizzas because the sandwiches had been insufficient, we had to return to camp and drop most of the pack off before making our way to tea.

  Chapter 18

  Kage let Isaac drive without him. First, though, I had to point out what a short distance it was, how we couldn’t all go barging in on this old woman, asked his permission politely to take the Jeep, and kissed his cheek when he mumbled agreement.

  One hurdle out of the way.

  I was afraid to take Zar along because of the whole old lady/tea/manners thing. He might know druids and the kindred and his own people. Not this. Andrew seemed a more likely choice. Yet I could not stomach the idea of being alone in the Jeep with Isaac and Andrew for over an hour round-trip. Kage and Jed never even crossed my mind as options.

  So it was Isaac, Jason, and myself to tea. While we were in the car going over I forgot to ask Jason what Andrew had meant. Maybe something I should ask in private anyway? Kage busy? And Jason didn’t care? Not what either of them had been acting like.

  Instead, I talked with them about druids. What I knew of druids and how surprised I was to learn that our hostess was the last in the area. Then Isaac asked about my work, leading me to talking of my own graduation and Portland school districts and my impending career. Usually I’m much more comfortable being the one asking questions.

  The trip flew past before I could ask Isaac about his own work.

  And what about not asking questions and keeping this impersonal?

  Screw that. What’s the harm?

  Are you sure? Someone could get hurt. You’re here to offer help, then move on.

  Move on. Exactly. We’ll part ways tomorrow. No one’s going to be emotionally damaged just because you get to know each other better or ask what the word kir means.

  Maybe not that word. I was pretty sure it was rude.

  But I would like to know what they meant about “core” and what their lives were like in the pack, and to learn a little Lucannis. I spoke some college French. How cool would it be to speak some wolf language?

  Weighing these arguments crowded my brain while I had to navigate to our destination. By the time we got there, I still didn’t have answers.

  Ellasandr
a lived in a whitewashed cottage on a bluff on the way into a village not far from Saint Nectan’s Glen. The modest space and winding, narrow drive to reach it were more than made up for by views that took my breath away—even after the day on the Cornish coast.

  The sun remained well above the horizon in an endless blue sky without a hint of cloud. The ocean, below cliffs that jutted up from it, was rich royal blue and turquoise shades. If not for the lashing wind, I’d have asked if we could take our tea out back in her garden. But that element was also intense, almost blinding.

  Instead, Ellasandra had the door open and I knocked on the frame, calling a hello while Isaac and Jason waited respectfully back from me without having to be told.

  “Come in. Is that you from the glen?” Her reedy voice sounded from across the cottage.

  “It’s us,” I called. “Cassia, Isaac, and Jason. Thank you so much for the invitation, Ellasandra.”

  “Thank you for finding me, dear. Come sit down in the kitchen. I’m sorry I don’t have a proper parlor, and my hands are full.”

  “No worries. Your home is beautiful. This setting…”

  The stone floor was dusty to the point of debris blown inside, so I didn’t bother to remove my shoes, but walked slowly in to find the kitchen at the back overlooking that view. She had a window open here as well and I was glad I’d thought to zip the hoodie on over my blouse. The cottage was chilly with all that sea air, despite the day.

  “Look at that,” I said, stepping into the kitchen. “Stunning. Have you lived here long?”

  “All my life.” Ellasandra looked up from a floured counter where she was kneading out dough to cut for a baking tray.

  “No…”

  “I have indeed.” She smiled at me. There was flour on her nose. “I was born in this very house.”

  “Are you serious? Your own personal corner of the world?”

  Ellasandra laughed. “No one can claim a share of the world any more than of nature. But I like to think I’m borrowing. Anyway, my father was from London so I’ll always be an ‘incomer’ to proper Cornish folk. An emmet, as they say. Leave it abroad,” she added in a raised voice again to reach the others. “That is to say, leave the door open. Our brother the west wind is feeling playful today and I love the company.”

  I grinned. Another sister of the wind. “Me too. I hope you’re not going to a lot of trouble just for us. Can I help?”

  “No, no, sit down, dear, and ask your friends in.” Gesturing with her chin to the ancient wood table in the corner with two built-in benches and two chairs. On one wall of this corner were more wide windows looking out to sea. “The moment I heard your voice this morning I thought, ‘That young lady needs a proper cream tea.’ I usually do a bit of baking early in the week anyway, and I bet you’ve never had tea in a real English cottage over the sea before, have you?”

  “I’m glad my accent gave me away. But, really—”

  “No trouble. Have a seat and I’ll just get these in the oven.”

  I beamed at Jason as he stepped into the room, wishing I had Melanie there to grab her hand in lieu of a happy dance. She would understand. I squeezed his anyway and gestured to the benches to sit. Isaac took a chair that he could shove out for his long legs. I pushed Jason to slide into the bench with his back to the glass so I could sit and gaze out the window.

  Ellasandra greeted them as they came in, asking us all what kind of tea we would take.

  The kitchen was also white, old in every bone—low ceiling, windows too small for the view, stone floor, exposed beams that had been whitewashed over, tiny oven and great, deep sink. Even with the eat-in part, the room could not have been more than twelve feet across on the longest side and it seemed we filled the little space like sardines.

  With currant and orange scones in the oven, our hostess set out cucumber sandwich quarters and chocolate “biscuits.” Tea, jam, and clotted cream followed to the table with little china plates for each.

  I could hardly believe it, completely forgetting why we were here. It was such a cliché, yet so perfect, I kept thanking Ellasandra for the lovely spread while she chuckled appreciatively.

  Jason was slow to take anything, even after Ellasandra invited us to tuck in, herself pouring boiling water into a china pot for the table.

  He watched Isaac, who gave him a glance. Isaac demonstrated eating one of the finger sandwiches in five delicate bites—more than I was taking on mine—then added one of the cookies to his plate, but didn’t start on it. Jason imitated him. I doubted they cared much for the sandwiches, though cream cheese probably helped.

  Even though I was certain Ellasandra knew exactly what they were, I appreciated the effort they made.

  We talked about the glen, the waterfall, and Cornwall in general until Ellasandra settled with us, hot scones in a basket on the table, ready for the jam and clotted cream to melt into them and ooze over fluffy edges. Even though it embarrassed me to do it, I explained I had to take a picture of the table to send to my American sister who’d married an Englishman.

  “I was visiting her in Brighton when this whole thing started,” I elaborated, and was reminded there was a “thing” that had “started” and I’d better attend to it.

  Ellasandra prompted me at this comment.

  With a little feedback from Jason and Isaac, I filled her in on what Diana had said.

  “The starting point we have,” I finished, “are druids. I saw druids at standing stones on a cliff when I scried and Diana said your people had also lost someone recently. I’m glad we found you since it sounds like you may be even more rare than shifters these days.”

  “True druids are indeed scarce.” She nodded her white head gently, holding her tea mug in both veined hands, now clean of flour and dough. “Only a few scattered around the South of England and a full, though small, order up north. I wondered how you’d managed it. You must be a gifted seer.”

  “I don’t know about that. If they had my grandmother helping we’d already have this case solved. She died years ago.”

  Ellasandra reached over to squeeze my hand at this and, to my amazement, I felt a lump in my throat. “That doesn’t mean she’s not still helping you, dear.”

  “I know.”

  She patted my hand. “For our part, I can tell you it’s the same.”

  We all looked at her.

  “How you described yours,” she said. “Bled out bodies? Eyes, clothes? It’s the same for us. But we’ve only lost two, one just this month. If they are meaning to go after both, they’re only now starting with us. As I said, we are very few. It is perhaps most worrying, most telling, that whoever is doing this is able not only to find your people but mine.” She paused and took a slow breath.

  It crossed my mind how scary this must be for her and I reached to return the favor of pressing her hand. She held onto mine.

  “Now … what help is that to you?” She looked up, sadly gazing from one of us to the next. “I’ve been thinking all day, is there a way we could put this information together and follow a path? Is there a way nature and spirit will guide us to answers if we find the right door? Everything you’ve said encourages me to think my one idea may indeed be a valid one.” Another breath. “Though I hesitate to mention it.”

  She looked from Isaac to Jason and dropped her gaze.

  “Please,” I said. “If you know something, if you have any ideas at all. The wolves asked me. And my magic brought me druids. This has to be right. You think you may know who it could be?”

  She licked her thin lips, eyes sad, and, yes, a little scared. “Have you questioned the wolves in London?”

  Isaac frowned.

  Jason sat back. “There are no wolves in London.”

  Ellasandra looked him in the eye. “Are you sure about that?”

  Chapter 19

  “You think wolves could be doing this?”

  Silence in the Jeep—aside from that horrible diesel engine.

  “You couldn’t have said t
hat?” I looked from Isaac beside me to Jason in the back seat.

  Jason seemed deeply interested in the countryside out the window.

  “It’s not that we think wolves are responsible—” Isaac started.

  “But you do think it could be a possibility?”

  Jason muttered something in the back.

  “What?” I asked.

  “How could there be wolves in London?” Jason asked.

  I shook my head. “What is going on? The druids think there are wolves in London and you”—looking to Isaac—“say you don’t know about that but, yes, the cooperative had considered that wolves could be the murderers? Now she’s speculating urban werewolves may be trying to kill you off, going for druids also because city wolves hate what they represent, you already wondered if it could be an inside job, and no one bothered to mention this to the one person you asked for help? Is that right? Because you’re making me feel crazy.”

  “Let’s … just wait until we get back to the others,” Isaac said. “Jason and I may not be the best to fill you in on that.”

  “I don’t know anything about it,” Jason said quickly. “I’ve never even heard of wolves in London and I don’t know the Beech Pack either. Jed’s the one who knows them.”

  The Beech Pack opted to forgo…

  “The pack that left your cooperative?”

  Silence.

  Isaac said, “Diana didn’t like anyone sniffing toward our kin. Not with everyone so reactionary lately. She’s right. However … it’s true they have isolated themselves from other wolves and…”

  “And none of them have snuffed it,” Jason said suddenly, now sounding angry. “Diana doesn’t want infighting. She says we’re all wolves, all in this together. But it’s rubbish. We can’t help infighting. We’ve been forced to live crammed together. We can’t get out and start our own packs because there’s nowhere to go. That’s why we’re at each other’s throats. Kage and Jed are just one example. Our silvers are afraid to face the idea that the Beech Pack could be killing off the rest of us because they won’t admit that the lives of wolves as our forebears knew them are over. But the Beech Pack knows it. Could be they’ve decided to put an end to the unnatural way we’re living, destroy the South Coast packs as quietly as they can.”