MARKED BY THE MOON BOOK ONE
KESTRA PINGREE
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 Kestra Pingree
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
This is a work of fiction.
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Summary
She’s smitten by a wolf.
Gwendolyn Laney was just an ordinary park ranger until the day she was bitten by a wolf, a wolf that can turn into a hot as sin man.
There’s some kind of magic drawing her to him. Maybe someone more sensible would be worried, but not Gwen.
She knows she belongs with him.
He can’t have a human.
Nickolas Sipe is the Alpha of Blue Pack. He has a duty to all of his wolves, and that duty means keeping humans away.
Humans have no place in the pack. They’re the ones to blame for wolf shifter misfortunes.
It doesn’t matter that she gets him wild with a simple look. This human can’t be the one for him.
Fated Mates. Forever Love.
Table of Contents
Copyright
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
Epilogue
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CHAPTER 1
A RIFLE SOUNDED IN the distance. Gwendolyn Laney had just gone inside the cabin she was stationed at to take lunch, but it seemed the park ranger would have to take a rain check on that. The national park she helped protect was a no hunting zone. Hearing a rifle was a very bad sign. She didn’t get to eat any food, but even if she had, she wouldn’t have taken off her pistol, which was holstered on her belt. She was ready to go in a flash like the serious ranger she was.
She flung the cabin door open and slammed it closed again as she took off at full speed into the surrounding forest. She wasn’t sure which direction to go until another shot rang out, causing birds to scatter from the trees in a chorus of alarmed tweets. She went for the most concentrated area of fluttering birds, keeping her eyes open for any other signs she might find. It seemed the poachers were close, though.
Blue spruces whirred by her as she pushed her legs as hard as she possibly could. She was so focused on her speed she almost missed the movement in the brush to her left. She dug her heels into the dry and decaying plant matter beneath her. She had her hand ready to grab her pistol, expecting to see the ones responsible for shooting emerge any second. Cautiously, she crept closer to the shadowed figure looming in the blue spruces.
“Come out with your hands up,” she said. “This is a no hunting zone.”
She waited for a few seconds. Feeling impatient, she was about to take action when the figure came forward. It wasn’t a poacher. It wasn’t even a human. It was a large wolf with blue-gray fur that matched the surrounding forest. And it was bleeding.
Alarmed, Gwen lowered her gun—as if that would make a difference to a wounded animal. This wolf was in bad shape. Blood was seeping from his stomach, probably where he’d been hit by a bullet. That wasn’t the only wound on him, though. She saw various other injuries, bloody as well, dying most of his coat a darker shade and dying the white of his fur red. He looked like he had been in a fight before these poachers got a shot at him. Other wolves most likely. He was a male and had probably been caught in a power struggle.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Gwen said, keeping her gun lowered at her side but refusing to holster it in case the poachers revealed themselves. She was certain they would. This wolf had to be the animal they were hunting down. She needed to be ready.
The wolf’s lips curled up, baring white teeth that seemed too bright in the dusky light of the forest. Though he showed aggression, the look in his piercing yellow eyes was beseeching. At least to Gwen, it was.
She inched closer to the staggering creature. He seemed to be drawn to her, placing one paw in front of the other, trying to reach her. Before he could, and before she could reach him, he collapsed. Gwen wanted to inspect his wounds, but then she heard the rustling of brush nearby. She readied her gun.
“He went that way!” a man shouted.
Sure enough, two men dressed in camo leaped out of the brush.
“Lower your weapons,” Gwen threatened with her gun trained on them. The poachers were armed with rifles, but unlike her, they didn’t have them pointed and ready. They were slung over their shoulders to get them out of the way. The wolf must have given them quite the chase. They were winded too; their breaths were the one sound that could be heard in the silence.
Gwen knew she wasn’t in the best situation, considering they both had guns and she was only one person with one gun, but that didn’t stop her. She was confident in her abilities and certain she’d be able to take them both down if she needed to, but she wasn’t trigger happy. She wouldn’t start shooting unless she had to. She hoped these men wouldn’t try anything, but the way their hands lingered at their rifles didn’t bode well.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Gwen said, staring them down with eyes unflinching and a steady hand. “I said put your hands up.”
Her commanding presence gave them pause. They slowly lifted their hands into the air. Gwen needed to call this in. She made to grab her radio with one hand as she continued holding her pistol with the other. It wasn’t ideal, but she couldn’t hold these guys at gunpoint forever. There was a wolf that needed her help. Unfortunately, it was just the sort of distraction the poachers were waiting for. One readied his rifle quicker than Gwen was anticipating possible. She managed to fire her pistol first, hitting the guy in the arm and causing his shot to go awry. The wound didn’t slow him down. He and his partner ran. Gwen reacted too late and lost them in the cover of the blue spruces.
“Goddamnit,” she muttered under her breath as she left the injured and dying wolf behind to chase after the poachers who had shot him. She would be back for him later, but right now the best thing she could do was to stop these poachers. If she didn’t, they might circle back and finish what they had started. She wasn’t going to let that happen. She was going to save that wolf. It was her duty. She was a park ranger, and every creature in Blue Forest was under her protection.
She knew Blue Forest well because she was stationed at a cabin rather deep inside of the forest, where she didn’t even have Internet connection—though she was lucky enough to have running water and a generator. It was where she liked to be best. The forest was her home. Because she knew her home, she knew the men were running right for the Twin River. She would stop them there—or so she thought. The poachers were prepared for a quick getaway.
There was a sinking feeling in her gut as the blue spruces started to thin, and the sound of rushing water bombarded her ears. She could see the poachers on a raft in the rapids. They were speeding down the frothing white water, and one had a rifle pointed right at her. She dove to the ground as he shot off a round. She lifted her head and positioned her elbows on the ground as she
held up her pistol and lined up her sight, taking a shot of her own. The poacher shooting at her collapsed back into the raft, clutching his shoulder. She had hit both of them now. But it wasn’t enough. The river had already taken them too far away. Another shot would’ve been pointless because she wouldn’t have landed another hit. Trying to catch them on foot would be just as futile.
“Shit,” she cursed. She grabbed her radio. “Gwen to dispatch. Poachers riding the Twin River. Not sure where they’ll get off. Moving fast. Need backup. Over.”
“Roger that. Sending backup. Over,” Ted, the only guy Gwen seemed to talk to out here, replied.
Gwen wasn’t satisfied, but she did all she could about the poachers. Hopefully, two of her comrades would be able to grab a couple ATVs and ride down the two trails by the river and catch the law breakers because she had something else she needed to do. Right now, there was a wolf that needed her.
She holstered her pistol and ran back to where she left the wolf. When she arrived and didn’t see him, she began to question herself. But she was sure this was the place. She searched the ground, the discarded pine needles, and leaves. Then she found blood. There was a conspicuous trail of it leading away from the area.
“Stop moving,” she pleaded under her breath. “I want to help you.” She had always had a soft spot for animals—wolves especially. That was why she became a park ranger at Blue Forest. For the wolves. She was going to do everything in her power to save him.
The blood was easy to follow because the wolf’s wounds were so bad. He didn’t make it far from where she had left him. He had collapsed on the ground again, panting heavily, the uneven rise and fall of his bloody coat showing just how labored his breathing was. He lifted his head high enough to turn it and glance at her behind him. He growled.
“It’s only me,” she said in a soothing voice as she inched closer, not the least bit afraid. “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore.”
As if the wolf understood her words, he whined in response, the hard look in his eyes and his curled-up lip settling into a neutral expression. His ears drooped, lying flat against his skull as he turned his face forward again, away from her. He rested his head in his paws.
Gwen carefully shuffled around him. She caught sight of his large pink tongue hanging out of his mouth as he continued to pant relentlessly. He was losing too much blood. The bites he had were bad enough, but he would have recovered from them. It was that bullet wound to his stomach that was doing him in. But he was still fighting and regal in this awful state. He looked like the kind of wolf that was alpha of a pack, or maybe an outcast. Gwen had never seen a wolf so large. She couldn’t help but wonder what happened before the poachers got to him.
She inched closer to him. He didn’t show any aggression, so she moved even closer until eventually she knelt down at his side. She outstretched her hand and rested it on his bloodied coat, trying to make sense of his wounds, trying to think of what she could do. There had to be something. If they were at her cabin, she would have had medical supplies. She could run there and bring supplies back. She ran several scenarios through her head, all of her hope, but she knew the truth. That bullet wound was too severe, and there was nothing she could do for him, even if she ran back to the cabin. He would be dead by the time she got back. That was how quickly he was fading.
Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the beautiful creature dying. She knew nature could be cruel, but she also knew this wolf would’ve made it if not for those poachers. Because of them, he was done. It was unfair.
“I’m so sorry,” she said weakly. She placed her hand on his head, trying to comfort him in the only way she could think. The wolf closed his eyes under her touch. “If there was any way I could help you, I would. I’d do anything.” She moved even closer, wrapping her arms gently around his huge neck, offering him an embrace. She knew he was a wild animal, but she couldn’t stop herself. She felt something for this wolf, an attachment. She had always had a certain attachment to nature, wolves especially, and there was something about this wolf dying that broke her heart in the same way it must have felt to lose a best friend.
The wolf’s breathing slowed, and Gwen cried. She didn’t want this.
She was so consumed in her grief, that she didn’t realize when his breathing picked up again. She failed to act when he stirred underneath her, rising and twisting.
Then he bit her right hand.
Shocked, she flinched away from the wolf, holding her hand to her chest. She didn’t know why she was surprised—he was a goddamn wild animal—but she was. It was just a bite, not a good thing by any means, but it shouldn’t have affected her immediately. Her vision started going fuzzy as if his teeth were poisoned. She looked down at the blood dripping from her hand and onto her khaki ranger pants. It was a bad bite to be sure, but she couldn’t figure out why she was on the verge of passing out, like every ounce of energy in her body was being drained away. She had dealt with these kinds of wounds before. How was this one any different?
Her eyelids were heavy, but she forced them open to see the wolf stand again as if he had caught his second wind. He staggered at first. Then he began walking at a steady pace. It was like his wounds suddenly weren’t a big deal.
“Wait,” Gwen said weakly, holding out a hand to the wolf as if he would listen to her, as if he would come back and explain what was happening to her.
Her vision pulsed in and out, light and dark. The world was a blur when it was there, otherwise, she was seeing only black. It was like the strobing lights at a club. She was dropping into darkness and out into a washed-out world, back and forth at a psychedelic pace.
She grunted as she got to her feet, staggering like she had been the one to get shot and torn apart by other wolves. She held her right hand to her chest, trying to ease the burning pain she felt, and trying to ignore the hot blood that trickled down her hand. She knew this forest, and that was the only way she was able to make it back to her cabin with her vision failing her. Her legs were about to give up on her, but she made it to the porch. Her fingers slipped on the doorknob, but she tried again and was able to open the door the second time. She couldn’t bring herself to close the door behind her because she could hardly breathe. She was going to crumple onto the floor. She wasn’t even going to make it to the couch.
One last shuddering breath was all she managed before her body hit the wooden floor.
CHAPTER 2
RED WAS THE COLOR that kept flashing across his vision. So much blood. He had to fend off those stupid Storm Wolves who had ambushed him in the woods. They tore him up pretty good, but he made them pay dearly. He, the Alpha of Blue Pack, Nickolas Sipe, made sure to dish out better than he got. He killed. He didn’t wound. Not when things got to this point. Even with all his bravery and skill, luck was against him today. Starting last night actually.
The bastard wolves that attacked him were just trying to waste his time, and he did a lot of running instead of fighting. When the cowards finally turned to face him, he took care of things rather quickly. Perhaps he could’ve outrun them, but there were six of them and one of him. They kept him circled and corralled him like a fucking cow. They took turns nipping at his heels, always running away before he could strike them—though he still managed to bring down a few before they became even more cautious and harder to catch. Their formation was effective in making him waste his time. Perhaps, if they were stronger, they would have eventually been able to wear him down and kill him, but they weren’t that good. Their first goal was to keep him from finding his sister, and it worked. They even led him to some poachers. He didn’t know if that was part of their plan. Judging by the way they scattered, he expected not.
He got shot.
Nick stumbled, feeling woozy. His sense of direction was off. He knew he needed to get back to his home, Moonwatch. He needed to gather some Blue Wolves together and save his sister from the Storm Wolves who kidnapped her. It seemed like something that might be feasible n
ow. A moment ago, he thought he was as good as dead. The fiery pain that he had been enduring for what felt like hours was beginning to cease like he was all of a sudden healing from a fatal bullet wound. He felt confused and disoriented. Some park ranger, some woman with a tantalizing smell, had come up to him, and he bit her, right? He couldn’t remember. He was lost between delirium and the reality of what had happened.
His ears twitched at the sound of radio fuzz. There was a man’s voice on the other end asking for Gwen, telling her to respond. Then the ranger wasn’t a hallucination?
Gwen. The name echoed in his head, and he knew he wouldn’t forget it—although he didn’t know why.
Nick walked to the radio without stumbling, his strength continuing to return at a steady rate. He put his nose to the radio, feeling the cold metal and hearing the static loud in his ears. It felt real. That meant Gwen was real too. Her scent, a scent not unlike the forest but so much sweeter, was imprinted on his mind. He snorted, lifted his head, and continued walking forward.
His stomach started to throb, each step a bloody and painful reminder of the bullet lodged in his flesh. It seemed his wounds were healing, but no amount of healing was going to take care of the bullet. He needed to get it out first. It was going to hinder him unless he did. He shook his head and brought his nose to the ground, smelling out the woman. Her scent was easy for him to pick up. It was a unique smell. Maybe it reminded him of the sweet-smelling pines or maybe flowers. The more he tried to compare it to something, the more he couldn’t compare it at all. It was a scent that prickled at his nose with pleasure. He had never smelled anything like it. The strange part was that her scent was undeniably human. He had never cared much for the human scent. This wasn’t the work of some perfume either. Odd. It was also odd that he was so sure of her scent. He was delirious when she came to “help” him, but he somehow memorized her scent.
Her Brave Wolf (Marked By The Moon Book 1) Page 1
