Her Brave Wolf (Marked By The Moon Book 1)

by Kestra Pingree

  He took labored breaths with each step as he followed her scent. He made steady progress, and he probably could’ve moved faster, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He was lucky to be alive after all the stupidity. Some Alpha he was. And why did he bite that woman? Why did he ever let her get so close? He didn’t bite her because he was angry or trying to warn her off. He felt like she could help him for some inexplicable reason—or no reason at all. It was only a feeling.

  Something about her felt safe.

  His wolf knew she would save him. The decision to bite her was a snap decision made by a bit of hidden instinct and knowledge he couldn’t explain. But it worked. It was after he bit Gwen the pain started receding. Slowly, but receding nonetheless. He knew he was alive because of her, and he needed to make good use of his second chance. He needed to get the bullet out of his stomach and pay Ivan Barstow a visit. The Alpha of Storm Pack had his sister, and Nick couldn’t bear the thought of the slimy cock sucker anywhere near his sister. He was going to kill Ivan and any members of his pack who would dare get in his way.

  Last night Nick went into Blue Forest to get some fresh air. He knew Willow was gone, but he wasn’t worried, and he hadn’t gone looking for her. She often snuck out at night to go to a neighboring town called Tinsdelle. She liked to mingle with the humans there. The males specifically. Nick pretended not to see it. He didn’t understand it either, but he never stopped her from going because there were no other wolves their age. Not since Casey Hunt ran away, disgraced his parents, the pack, and left Willow heartbroken. Going out was how Willow had learned to cope with him leaving her on the night Casey was supposed to claim her and become her mate.

  Last night things were different, though.

  His sister never went through Blue Forest to get to Tinsdelle. That would have been out of her way since the forest was west of Moonwatch and Tinsdelle was east, but he caught her scent on his run last night. Immediately, he knew something was wrong because her scent was mixed with the scent of wolves from Storm Pack. The scents blended together into something sour and malicious. That was when Nick was ambushed.

  He knew the reason behind Ivan’s actions, kidnapping Willow and the ambush, but it didn’t make him any less angry. Ivan had given Nick an offer. He wanted Willow as his mate to try to “save the Wolf” since Casey had bailed on all wolf shifters six years ago and never came back, but Nick would never force his sister to mate with someone she didn’t love. Not after what happened with Casey. As Alpha, he had the right to pick mates for all of his wolves. He and Willow were currently the only real candidates, but as far as he was concerned, Willow was off the table. He told Ivan no. Ivan didn’t like that. All Nick had to do was put the pieces together and the story was quite simple. Ivan kidnapped Willow because he wanted what he couldn’t have, and now Nick would kill him for it.

  Nick’s left paw began to itch like he had a mosquito bite. He ignored the sensation and focused on moving. He needed to get tweezers or something to dig the bullet out of his stomach. He wasn’t too keen on using his fingers, though he supposed he’d have to if Gwen the Park Ranger wasn’t stationed nearby like he thought. He tried weighing his options. With the rate he was healing, he would have probably been fine digging the bullet out with his fingers if he shifted. The woman, Gwen, was dangerous to get involved with any further, and yet his legs kept pulling him toward her scent. It was in his and Willow’s best interest if he took care of the bullet wound. He couldn’t save his sister if he died.

  The trees began to clear out, and Nick saw a cabin, a ranger station. Gwen’s scent was coming from the modest wood building. But the door was wide open, which Nick found strange. He continued forward, but he did so with caution. There were other smells he could pick out, but they were old, faint. Only the woman’s was fresh. None of the old scents smelled like the poachers either. At least he didn’t have them to worry about.

  Going up the porch steps to the cabin almost made his legs give out from underneath him, but he held himself together. It was that damn bullet wound making him woozy. Good thing he would be rid of it soon. He peeked around the open door to check inside the cabin and saw a pair of boots, legs, torso, a head, and a ranger hat that had rolled away. This was the woman who saved his life. The same one whose scent burned his nose in the most exquisitely stimulating way. But he couldn’t enjoy it at the moment. Gwen was sprawled out in an uncomfortable position on the ground as if she had passed out. The sight made his heart beat a little faster.

  He sniffed the air one more time, seeking out foul play. Nothing seemed out of place other than the woman unconscious on the wood floor.

  He trotted up to her and sniffed around her. Her long dark hair held in a ponytail was plastered on her face. Nick did his best to move her hair out of her face. Even with his nose touching her sun-tanned skin, she didn’t stir. She was breathing peacefully now without her hair getting in the way. The erratic beat of his heart mellowed out. He stepped over to her right hand. The bite he gave her was no longer bleeding. It almost looked like a scab. Or maybe a scar. It was morphing right before his eyes. As he took in the spectacle, his left paw began itching again. When he put his nose to her hand to try and understand what was happening, his paw itched even worse. He retreated away from her and bent down to his left paw, biting at it. It was then he noticed the fur on his left paw was discolored. It wasn’t a strange thing considering he was covered in blood, but it wasn’t that sort of discoloration. His normally blue-gray fur on the top of his paw had a bright pearly sheen in a defined crescent shape.

  He tried to ignore the strange sensation and change of color as he closed his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to take care of that bullet. That meant he needed to shift, which would probably be the most painful part of all of this because his body would alter and inevitably move the bullet around, possibly burying the thing deeper inside of his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath and willed his body to change. This was about as pleasant as he anticipated it being. He grunted in his pain, and he ground his teeth together. Once he was standing upright, he took in a few deep breaths to ease the searing flames in his stomach.

  He quickly took stock of the bites the fucking Storm Wolves had given him. They didn’t look good, but they looked much better than they were. He was healing faster than usual. Much faster.

  His left hand continued itching, so he looked at it again. His skin was an odd pearly sheen in the shape of a crescent—a lot like how the Moon looked last night—on the back of his hand. He looked down at the woman whose hand he had bitten and saw that her skin mirrored his.

  Nick had accessed something. There was something between him and this woman, some sort of magical reaction or connection, and he wasn’t happy about it.

  He had never seen anything like this before, but it reminded him of the old stories Julie Hunt, the history keeper in his pack, held on to, like the history keepers before her. When Nick was a pup, he believed her stories, but as he grew into adulthood, he had begun to think of them as fairytales. Everyone else did. Now it was only the history keeper and his sister who believed in those old tales of ancient magic, of Moon-based magic. The same Moon that blessed them to be what they were. The same Moon that blessed them with the Wolf. He knew the stories, but he had no faith in them.

  The Moon’s blessing was fading, and all wolves in Blue Pack knew it. All packs he had any communication with, which were few, knew it too. Perhaps other shifters were having problems as well, but he wouldn’t have known. Wolves kept to themselves and only knew tales of other supernatural beings. And now wolves were disappearing. The Moon’s magic was disappearing. There was no point in having hope in the old stories.

  Until now perhaps.

  He was worried about what this meant. If the old stories were true, he and this human woman now shared a sigil created by Lunas, the power of the Moon. They were bound into some kind of contract. He tried to remember the stories the history keeper had told him about Lunas and Lunas Sigil
s, but that was the best he could come up with at the moment. He would have to ask Julie about it later.

  The sight of the woman sprawled out on the floor without any sign of waking up was making him uneasy. It bothered him. The longer she stayed like that, the more it bothered him. He couldn’t stand leaving her like that for a moment longer.

  He bent down, meaning to only pick her up and place her on the couch, but her scent overpowered him the closer he got to her. His whole body was hot as his hands touched her as if she was directly pouring that intense heat into him—even though there was no way she could have with how cold her skin was.

  Ignoring the contradictory feelings, he lifted her up effortlessly. She was on the taller end, lean and muscular. Very athletic. She didn’t have those classic feminine curves his sister had, but damn was she hot. She was just his type, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. His dick agreed. The moment he held her securely in his arms and had her close to his chest, the heat in his skin grew worse. He quickly placed her on the couch and tried to ignore his growing erection. Putting her down was the last thing he wanted to do, but this was fucking insane.

  He ran a hand through his hair and tried to ease the chaotic feelings she dredged up inside of him. Whatever was happening to him, it was much more than a physical attraction. He wanted to stand guard and protect her. He wanted to baby her and coax her awake. The attraction was undeniable, but it was the least of his concerns when compared to these other feelings. He had a possessive thought in his mind that bothered him the most. This woman is mine. He felt it very adamantly. It was an undisputed truth. She belonged to him, and no one could tell him otherwise.

  He shook his head, irritated by the irrational thoughts and feelings. He had heard of things like this from the history keeper—but never with a human. He shot those thoughts down. No way was he going to think about this shit right now.

  Completely naked and not giving a damn, he forced himself away from the woman. He searched the cabin and found the bathroom. It looked like the park ranger had running water at least, though he doubted she had an Internet connection or cell phone reception. He looked through the cabinets until he found some painkillers that called his name. Then he found what he was really looking for: tweezers. There were plenty of other things he could use too, alcohol to clean the wound, thread to stitch it, and gauze to dress it. But first, he needed to get the bullet out.

  He set to work, downed a couple of the painkillers, and then grabbed the tweezers. He plunged them inside of his wound, expertly and carefully, not ruining his flesh any more than he had to. It was painful, but it was nothing compared to the pain he had withstood earlier. He gritted his teeth as he dug inside of the bloody hole, found where the bullet was lodged in his stomach, gripped the tweezers around the metal, and pulled it out of his flesh. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding once the bullet was out. It seemed he was lucky in one way. The bullet had smashed inside of itself, so he didn’t have to go digging for any fragments.

  He sighed and dropped the smashed metal into a garbage can. The skin on his left hand began itching again, terribly. At the same time, he could see his bullet wound healing. It was like the itching and super healing went hand in hand. He cleaned the wound next, but it was healing fast enough he decided not to bother stitching himself up. He had a sinking suspicion that this rapid healing had something to do with the Lunas Sigil he shared with that woman.

  When he blinked, he saw her through the darkness of his eyelids. He got hot and bothered all over again just remembering her pretty face and lean body. His cock was being a fucking nuisance. What was wrong with him?

  He wanted to check on her. He wanted to wake her up. But he couldn’t. He needed to save his sister. He was bare-ass naked. He was a wolf. She was a human.

  But she’s mine.

  Nick was so lost in thought he failed to hear the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A gasp broke through the noise in his head, and he stiffened in response.

  Slowly, he turned around to face the woman behind him. She was awake, okay. The knowledge sent relief flooding through him. His eyes rested on hers, a deep brown, almost black. It felt like she could see inside of him with those gorgeous eyes. He wanted her for his own. He needed to claim her so others would know what he already knew. But that was instinct talking. He knew he couldn’t claim this woman he just met. This human woman. He was losing his mind.

  Neither of them blinked, trapped in each other’s gaze.

  Gwen moved her mouth like she was trying to say something, but no sound came out. That was when Nick came back to his senses. He grabbed a towel and covered himself quickly. It seemed like the right thing to do. Humans felt differently about nudity than shifters, at least wolves, for obvious reasons perhaps, but the last thing he wanted to do was give her a bad impression of himself—but he didn’t know why that fucking mattered. He was hopeless. He was ashamed. She was a human. She was a human. He should have cared about that fact, that difference, but for some reason, he was finding it harder and harder to. He wanted her.

  Gwen. His woman. Nick couldn’t believe his own thoughts.

  He needed to leave. Now.

  “Sorry,” he said, scrambling to get things all sorted out. “Ran into a little trouble in the woods. Saw your cabin and thought I could get cleaned up. I tried to wake you up, but you were passed out on the couch.”

  He shifted forward, but the woman didn’t step away from the door. He could’ve easily shoved past her, but he couldn’t bring himself to. His cock was throbbing against the dumb towel wrapped around his waist as Gwen’s eyes traveled down from his face to his torso and rested on his stomach. He wondered if she glimpsed how turned on he was. He wondered if she cared. He couldn’t smell her arousal, but she had just woken up from having passed out. She was reacting to this whole thing normally—with shock. His own reaction was what was ridiculous.

  His breath hitched when she brought her gaze back up to his. Her gaze alone was enough to erase his mind. Her eyes widened, and then she took a step forward. Despite his desperate need to move forward and meet her, he somehow managed to take a step back.

  ”Let me see your wounds,” she said.

  She closed the distance between them without any hesitation. She was not afraid of him. That much he knew. He thought he could smell something like excitement or wonder. She was curious about him. Her scent was back to burning his nose with how close she was. He swore he could smell her arousal because of how her scent seemed to grow even sweeter. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking.

  He shouldn’t have let her get any closer, but his body planted itself in place as if his feet were growing roots. He didn’t have the will to move. He tried to tell himself that he needed to leave, that he needed to save his sister, but it didn’t help. His body wouldn’t obey him. Gwen placed her fingers gently on some of the bites scarring his waist. Her touch was soothing, her skin was warm. Everywhere she touched him made the tension in his body fade away. He couldn’t feel any pain with her so close—except for that annoying itching in his left hand.

  Her fingers slid onto his hard and muscled stomach, stopping near the bullet wound that no longer looked like a fresh bullet wound. It was raw, but it had shrunk, healing with each passing moment. When she gingerly touched the skin around the wound, she pulled back suddenly. She gripped her right hand, the one that wore a sigil that matched his, and the pearly Moon Mark seemed to glow. It was a harsh glare in his eyes. Nick felt dizzy. He backed up into the counter. His hands rested on the ceramic sink as he leaned back, trying to steady himself.

  “You’re the wolf,” she said. Then she shook her head. “That’s crazy!”

  She inspected him warily, keeping a safer distance between them. She looked over his entire body head to toe. She had a clear view of him except for the fucking towel poorly hiding his raging boner. He found himself wishing it wasn’t there. He wanted her to see all of him. Those feelings grew more insistent when he
smelled it. This time he knew he did. Her arousal. She was pleased with his body, and for some reason that felt fucking great. His wolf was practically howling for joy inside of his chest, begging him to make a move, to act on this. She wanted to see him as much as he wanted to show her.

  He didn’t have time for this.

  He needed to leave. He needed to save his sister. This woman was a park ranger, a human, and there could never be anything like this between them. He was the Alpha of Blue Pack. His life and his duty were to his wolves.

  “It really is you,” the woman said. “It has to be. You have the same eyes. I mean I guess they are a little different, but I can see the yellow.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick said in a rush as he slid around her, hugging the wall while attempting to bypass her and get out of the bathroom without touching her.

  She let him move around her without making a move of her own. She even let him go so far as to get behind her, so the way out of the bathroom was a clear shot. Then she tried to reach out to him. He bolted. He dropped the towel so it wouldn’t hinder him, ran through the cabin, out the open front door he never closed, and into the forest. He didn’t have time to placate this ranger. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had tried to convince her he wasn’t a wolf. She could think or believe whatever she wanted because she would never see him again after today. All he had to do was make sure not to shift in front of her. That would hopefully encourage her to put all of this behind her. He was never going to see her again. The thought filled his chest with a heaviness like cement smothering his lungs and his heart. He ignored it.

  He ran, certain he would lose her in no time, but when he glanced over his shoulder, the ranger was there running after him. She was fast for a human. It helped she had long legs, but she was really pushing herself, relentless in her pursuit of him. He had to actually try to lose her. Part of him was impressed while the other part of him was annoyed. He picked up his speed. The added exertion made him aware of the wound in his stomach. It would have been best if he could allow himself some time to heal, but he didn’t have that luxury.