Moon Claimed: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 2)

by Kelly St Clare

  Wade muttered, “Did you just fart? Your face went weird.”

  I wished that was all it was. “What do you suggest? That I tell everyone the truth?”

  Part of me believed Rhona wouldn’t tell everyone what happened. That now a few days had past, she’d see more clearly. Or at the very least, I believed that she loved the tribe more than she hated me. Unsettling them with another leadership change wasn’t in their best interest.

  Wade blew out a breath. “You’re the game mastermind, not me, but I say we save that for worst-case scenario.”

  I flopped back again, tired beyond reason. I’d refused to let my wolf in whatsoever for three days. Exhausting couldn’t describe the feeling of shutting her out. It was like someone had opened a plug and I was draining in a steady torrent.

  She’d put me in danger. She’d humiliated me in front of my enemies—and Sascha and Greyson.

  She wasn’t on my side

  Incorrect.

  I growled low.

  “Do you make that sound during sex?”

  Oh my god. I cleared my throat. “Only during the really good stuff.”

  “That would be a massive turn off for me. As we both could have assumed.”

  He was working so hard to make me happy. “Glad to hear it.”

  “What’s our plan then?”

  “Fighting back is to stand against her. I don’t want to fight with my sister. I can’t. And I won’t tell more lies to get myself out of the hole I dug. I’ll just handle whatever new tactic she tries in the moment and try to talk sense to her.”

  “What about when stewards notice she’s not Team Andie?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll deal with that too.”

  My phone rang, and Wade snatched it up.

  “Unknown, huh?” He slid me a shit-eating grin, light dancing in his grey eyes. “This is Andie’s phone. Oh, Sascha. Hey, boo. No, she’s in bed with me right now. Could you call back? We’re kind of busy.”

  I grabbed the phone, trying and failing to glare at him. “Sascha.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Greyson. None of your business. Why are you calling?”

  “We arranged to meet for a Luther lesson.”

  I brushed my hair back. “Right. I forgot.”

  “Is everything okay, mate?”

  “Don’t call me that. Does it have to be tonight?”

  “I have a commitment tomorrow that’s come up.”

  I listened intently to his gravel-ridden voice for the truth but couldn’t pick it out from his voice alone. I was so deathly tired. “Where and when?”

  “I’m free for the rest of the evening. How about the manor?”

  “Very funny,” I said a beat too late.

  “Ask Wade for directions to Broderick Falls. We close the road there to tourists at sundown. We’ll be alone. I’ll see you in thirty?”

  The sooner I went, the sooner I’d be in bed. “Got it.”

  Hanging up, I flipped the phone in my palm. “Where’s Broderick Falls?”

  Wade’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to the falls where teen pregnancies occur and the back seats of cars are never the same? What on earth are you meeting there for?”

  It spoke for my tiredness that I nearly mentioned Luther lessons. “Sascha and I need to discuss the remaining meets.” Bastard picked that spot to put Wade in his place.

  His eyes were round. “All the better to bite you with, little bird. Will another meet happen tonight?”

  “Dunno. Probably not.” I dragged a heavy jacket out of my closet, selecting dark jeans.

  “Don’t bother with underwear just in case,” he said. “It disappears at Broderick Falls anyway.”

  This was just a meet up for Luther lessons.

  None of that would happen.

  Again.

  16

  Shoving both hands in my jacket pockets, I followed the path to the falls. Did he mean for us to meet at the falls or back where I left Ella F?

  I couldn’t detect his scent. A curious spice mixture reached me instead. Very faint. Whatever it was from, the animal was far away. Even faint, the scent made me want to sneeze.

  Enemy.

  I ignored my wolf. She’d broken her silence earlier, and it seemed there was no return to blissful quiet. She’d made several comments on the way here.

  Ahead, water pounded against rock, and behind me, a car pulled up to where I’d parked. Circling, the car left again, probably put off by the gate reading Closed.

  A predator pounded from the east through the trees. The weight and tread of the four-legged gait were recognisable.

  Greyson.

  I craned my head to see the entire plunge waterfall. Beautiful. I’d never seen a waterfall in real life before. Well, Queen’s Way had a waterfall that was about one metre high and dry half the year. And there was a three-step cascade into the Deception Valley town, I supposed, but this looked like a real waterfall.

  My first waterfall and I felt separate from the beauty before me. I could appreciate how the mossy oasis might have seeped into my heart once.

  A growl filled the clearing.

  Glancing back, I cocked an eye at the dark brown wolf. “Greyson. In a mood tonight?”

  I’m sure he had some retort, but we could only mind-speak in wolf form.

  Hmm, actually. This was the ideal chance to confirm a theory.

  Releasing some of my forest calm, my fingernails shot out into lethal claws, fangs sliding down either end of my chin. My vision sharpened and my hearing range burst outward to five times the radius, my smell stronger still. A trickle of energy returned to me, like dipping a foot into a hot bath.

  I’d always found it weird that Sascha spoke of personal issues in the hearing of his pack, but with the sheer range of a Luther’s senses, there probably wasn’t another option. It would be impossible to drive twenty minutes away each time a person wanted to have a private conversation. Even the idea of lying to another Luther was ridiculous. Ugh, suddenly, my whole infiltrate The Dens ploy was laughable. They’d have known the minute I re-entered the casino.

  You couldn’t drive? I thought hard at the wolf.

  His answer filled my head. We never drive if we can run, mate.

  Pulling back my forest calm, I shoved my wolf away, trying to conceal my triumph. Wolves could mind-speak in a partial shift.

  Facing the waterfall again, I focused there instead of on the cracks and pops behind me.

  “You’re happy with yourself? Why?” Sascha’s smooth voice washed over me.

  “You know, driving has its perks. Mainly that you’d be wearing clothes right now.”

  “I didn’t think nudity bothered you,” he said, walking toward me in his birthday suit. “Or is it just my nudity that makes you squirm?”

  He had to use that word in particular.

  Turning, I fixed my eyes on his mocking face. “What are you teaching me today?”

  He stopped before me. “Why do you smell like sorrow and stress?”

  “I told Rhona the truth of what happened during the capture meet. And about the meets and what it means. She’s not happy.”

  Dang it, I couldn’t help glancing down. He was a work of art, for shit’s sake. Hard abs were the bridge between wide shoulders and hips that were built to fulfil all types of fantasies. There was no other word for his powerful physique than gorgeous, and I couldn’t help but notice this beauty didn’t feel distant and cold like the waterfall at my back.

  “I’ve waited a long time for you to look at me like a woman looks at a man,” Sascha said softly.

  I politely returned my attention to the guy’s face. “I appreciate nice bodies.”

  “Nice bodies or just mine?”

  He could smell a lie. “I’ve always appreciated men’s bodies. I have the power to look but not touch.”

  “Can you think of another man after what we shared?” He stalked closer. “It’s been impossible for me to look at another woman since I first saw you
. After tasting you, it’s like women no longer exist.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you? That you’ve magically been told to want me and so you do? If you were really attracted to me, then you would have been after Rhona long before I arrived.”

  His mouth crooked, and I tilted my head back, challenge in my gaze.

  “Rhona smells like cut grass—”

  “I love that smell,” I shot in.

  “—that’s been in the compost heap for three weeks.”

  My mouth snapped shut. That didn’t sound so pleasant.

  “You—” Sascha wrapped his hands around my upper arms. “—do not. Your actions tell me that you have a beautiful mind and heart as well as an exquisite body. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

  Someone was counting their chickens before they’d hatched, but his slightly baffled tone made my stomach feel strange. “What do I smell like?”

  He placed his mouth next to my ear. I swayed into him, feeling some of my exhaustion seep away.

  “Like vanilla and oranges.” His words warmed my insides. “Like liquorice and pumpkin spice.”

  All food. Typical.

  Giving up, I rested my cheek against his chest. I just needed a little zap of energy after the last few days.

  “And me?” he asked.

  The word compost lingered on my lips, but if I insulted him, this contact would end, and I needed it. “Pine. Sweat. Musk. River water.”

  He hummed and the pine and river water scents intertwined.

  “Are you happy right now?” I murmured.

  “Yes.”

  Huh. “What does it mean when a scent pulses?” The description didn’t jive with my human notions, but it was the best way to describe Rhona’s sudden shift in scent during the head team meeting three days prior.

  He pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply. We were bodily pressed against each other now. “Shock, perhaps.”

  Shock would suit what happened. I was certain Rhona had realised in that moment that the head team weren’t at her beck and call.

  “If something smells rotten, is it a lie?”

  “No,” he answered, and I wrinkled my nose as his pine smell decayed.

  Lie.

  I shifted on the spot, worming closer. “I’ll take that as a yes. Are you the only person who has four smells? Apart from Rhona, everyone else I’ve sniffed only has one.”

  Like Wade’s salted caramel or the animal who smelled like spice.

  “Sometimes family members will have two—or even three scents if you’re very close. Lovers can have two after a while. To my knowledge, only mates share four.”

  Interesting.

  “Magic voodoo,” I murmured.

  “The mating call drives my wolf and me through the meets, but it does not make me like you, nor make you like me. That’s why there are seven meets, so we can determine the other’s worthiness. Like an arranged marriage, respect is something that comes if both sides are willing. The mating call is simply nature telling us that we are compatible for producing children. Nature isn’t concerned with how we feel about doing that. Anything more, love and trust… respect… is up to us—if we should wish it.”

  Then what was this feeling right now? I stiffened.

  “An initial attraction to you and an undeniable drive to move through the seven meets is the only part triggered by the mating call,” he continued. “The rest is all me and all you.” Sascha’s hands moved. “My hands sit perfectly at the curve of your hips.” His breath hitched. “My hands nearly circle your waist. Breasts I’ll never stop paying homage to except for the rest of your body tearing at my attention. Fuck, if you were mine, I’d never get anything done.”

  Warmth pooled between my legs, and my chest rose.

  Now was the time to step away.

  Sascha pulled me firm against his body.

  I looked up.

  “The slope of your neck when you submit,” he growled low, “the angle of your jaw when you don’t. Your lips, beautiful wolf. Made for kissing.”

  Logically, I knew a waterfall was pouring in a torrent at our back, but I could only hear the beat of his heart and mine. I could only smell the new way our scents tangled together.

  “Sascha—”

  “Nature does not care about such things,” he said in a ragged voice. “Nature is not romantic. It is cold and clinical. None of what I’ve just described is necessary for the job that nature wants us to fulfil. My attraction grows of my own accord, as does my respect for your mind, and my awe of your heart.”

  This was too much. “It’s pointless.”

  Why doesn’t he hate me?

  I’d worked against him from almost the first moment. This thing between us was doomed.

  With all my strength, I stepped back. “Okay. Just. Let’s cool it.”

  Sascha’s jaw clenched. “You feel it too. We wouldn’t feel this connection if you’d already decided against me. We wouldn’t feel better when we touched. You wouldn’t have felt a small version of the heat after scenting me for the first time. Even though you denied me, your mind and body must accept me on some level. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have needed that gratification.”

  What? Was that true?

  I took another step back. “I don’t feel where you are at all times though. If I was really into this, then I’d have that.”

  “You weren’t a wolf until recently. That could have altered things. Regardless, part of you finds me acceptable. That’s enough for me.”

  I snarled at the slight decaying pine scent. He wanted all of me. “I’ve done nothing but push you away. Openly. To your pack and to you. Why haven’t you decided against me?”

  I couldn’t put more distance between us without going for a swim.

  Sascha crowded me against the ledge but didn’t touch me again.

  “You wouldn’t push so hard if you didn’t feel something. I’d rather work with love, but if love can become hate, then hate can do the reverse too. And the words Greyson once said to you are right, little bird.”

  This was too much. I pressed a hand against my cheek. “I don’t remember.”

  “If the world wasn’t between us, we’d already be in each other’s arms. Our situation keeps us apart.”

  I couldn’t say if that was true or not, but he was right about the world between us.

  It was like a bucket of water over my heat. “Exactly. One of us loses Grids in the end. This doesn’t have a happy ending. So why bother?”

  He gripped my hand and gently tugged it away from my cheek. “Is that why you’re holding back? You’re trying so hard it kills me to watch. Always trying so hard, little bird, for everyone but yourself.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I glared at him.

  “Trying hard for your mother. Trying hard for your father. Trying hard for your sister and tribe. At which point have you tried hard for yourself?”

  I set my jaw.

  “I’ll tell you, shall I?” he whispered, gaze settling on my lips. “It was when you played at The Dens. Before you knew what I was.”

  There should be too many elements to our combined smell to make it appealing, but the aroma made me dizzy. He said nature gave us the urge to go through the meets. That it didn’t make us like each other or feel more than initial attraction. So our scent made my mouth water because of me.

  This wouldn’t be happening if part of me didn’t accept him. Sascha had said as much, and I’d smelled the truth in his words.

  He was right.

  And how did I switch that off? I wasn’t aware of when it started.

  For fuck’s sake.

  My lashes lowered as I studied his lips. I’d felt them between my legs, but we’d never kissed. Not once.

  A wrinkle formed between my brows. “Don’t you find it strange that we’ve never kissed?”

  “It’s one of the meets—usually, the next.” He tensed.

  It was? Did I miss that?

  He had such a full bottom lip. “M
ay as well get it over with then.”

  Sascha moved back, and I was doused with cold water, literally, as I felt the spray of the waterfall on my back.

  I stared at him, heart hammering. “What is it?”

  “Not tonight. Tonight is about teaching you how to manage your wolf—though you greatly impressed my pack with your show of control last night. That’s no easy task. Some wolves never manage a partial shift.”

  That’s what they were gasping and muttering about. I inhaled. “Why does that make you sad?”

  He glanced back in surprise. “Well done.”

  I waited, trying to shove back disappointment that his lips weren’t on mine.

  “The answer to that can wait for another time.”

  He was usually so open with me. “If you won’t tell me that, let’s get the kissing meet over with.”

  “No,” he said brusquely, striding back down the rocky path.

  I marched after him. “Why? It’s a quick kiss. We’ll get it over with and only have two meets left. You wanted this.”

  His river water scent intensified once more, and when he halted, I studied his ass.

  Sue me.

  “I’ve dreamed of finding my mate for a lifetime,” Sascha spoke, his back to me. “Since I found you, you’ve slipped through my fingers time and again. Nothing has turned out like my dreams at all—in fact, my nights are spent tossing in terror wondering what could befall you without me there. I could kiss you now, little bird. I could cave to the pressure building around us and claim you in all ways on a whim.” He sighed heavily. “It is, perhaps, just a kiss. And I am, perhaps, just a fool. But I want one part of my dreams to be true. When I kiss you because no one else exists for me any longer, I want you to kiss me back just the same.”

  Wordless, I couldn’t reply as the Luther half turned.

  His cheeks reddened, and he dropped his gaze. “You’re exhausted. Let’s do this another time. Maybe you could stay behind after the meeting on Sunday?”

  His words bounced back and forward between my ears. What did all that mean?

  That there was lovin’ talk.

  “Sure?” I croaked.

  “Okay. Goodnight.” Sascha, still red-faced, shifted into Greyson, who sent me a long look before leaving.