Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Her lashes, thick and dark, fluttered, hiding those expressive brown eyes from his view. Was she as taken with him as he was with her? Did she feel the pull? A pulse quivered in her throat, and he wanted nothing more than to lean closer and press his lips to the soft flesh. To feel her heart race beneath his tongue seconds before he sank his fangs into the delectable flesh.

  As she moved, sending the locks of her dark hair tumbling down her back, a heavier concentration of her scent wafted through the air, and he realized instantly, painfully, why he had been drawn to her.

  She was his damn mate.

  His lion leapt at the chains he’d careful cultivated over the years. Holy, hell, he thought. This was what his father had told him about. The sudden, uncontrollable urge to rip off his clothing and claim his mate.

  His mate.

  The words and their meaning sent a surge of heat though his body—straight to his dick.

  “Come, we will talk in here.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her along behind him. He knew his words were slurred, unclear but that couldn’t be helped. His fangs had started to distend, making speech difficult.

  He wondered if the kiss he wanted so desperately to give her would be worth the slap she was sure to give him for taking such a privilege. Her gaze met his and the air around him filled with the scent of her attraction. His nostrils flared. If he was not mistaken, she would soon be fertile.

  A fertile mate.

  That thought brought him back to reality with a hard snap. Just what the hell he didn’t need at the moment. What the hell did he think he was doing? There was too much danger surrounding his pride at the moment to even think about bringing his mate into the fold.

  For the last month, a group of humans—The Group—had been terrorizing the tourists and even attacking shifters if they caught them in their animal form alone on the mountain.

  He turned and led her to a room off the side of the main entrance. This hotel was designed to mimic hunting lodges of old—with every convenience known to modern man. The room where he led them was no less rich and decadent, exactly as he had envisioned it when the idea had first taken hold. Ten years ago, the government had handed shifters the most dangerous and inhospitable region of the states, hoping, like other people they had driven to near extinction with the same tactics, that the number of shifters would dwindle to nothing.

  What they had not realized was shifters would actually thrive away from the mainstream of human population. This hotel was just one of many that he and others had built in this remote area. Built to accommodate the men and women who found shifters fascinating, if not ultimately frightening.

  As they walked over the threshold of the room, she stumbled. Instantly, his hand tightened around her arm, pulling her against him. Her warm, feminine body pressed tightly to his, and an inescapable arousal surged through him.

  He did not let go. Could not let go.

  She did not step away either. A good sign, his lion whispered.

  His head tipped down of its own violation as he sought more of her scent. He felt his cock harden even more and shifted away before she had more than a brief impression of his arousal. No matter how tempting, he could not give into the lust—and mating desire—that flowed in his blood. There was too much at stake for him to lose his focus now.

  Not even for a mate.

  He stepped back, but not before groaning silently at the sight of her slightly parted mouth. Her delicious-looking pink tongue was just barely visible. Oh, how he wanted to feel that part of her flicking over him, over and over again.

  Like his, her eyes were going dark and unfocused with desire. He knew the animal within him was calling to her and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Her sweet innocence was a danger to them all. His cat snarled, rejecting the logic of the man. To the lion, nothing was more important than his mate.

  “Please have a seat.”

  The strange feeling that had suddenly overtaken Sally disappeared at the sound of the man’s dark voice. Now, just the flush of arousal lingered within her. On command, she dropped down to one of the large leather chairs he indicated. It was next to a large stone fireplace, where a small fire was burning. She could imagine the guests of the hotel surrounding it at night as the snow fell heavily outside.

  A man had followed them from the check-in counter and waited at the doorway. Bachar stopped and spoke to him for a moment before joining her and taking the seat opposite hers. Immediately the room seemed to shrink in size. The man was powerfully built, and she wondered what type of shifter he was. It would make sense that he was a wolf, given their location. But that wasn’t the impression she was getting from him. He was somehow fiercer, a larger predator come to life.

  “I am Bachar. How may I be of service?” He was over six feet of honed muscle dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a thick sweater. A perfect addition to the hotel’s atmosphere. She wondered how many women booked a room here just to get a glimpse of him.

  Square jaw, full chiseled lips, and brown eyes that held flecks of gold shaded by a pair of heavy brows. His hair was a dark brown that, in the flicker of the firelight also had hues of gold and fell recklessly over one eye and down the back of his neck.

  He was a dangerous-looking male, and everything inside Sally screamed at her to turn around and run until there was a safe distance between them. Like the two thousand miles back home.

  “I think my brother may be in your territory.”

  “Is he here with a tour group?”

  “Um, not exactly. He ran away from home.”

  “And you think he is on this mountain?” His eyes were sharply focused on her face, and she tried to breathe normally. She knew shifters could scent deceit and tried to even out her breathing. She wasn’t lying. Just not revealing the entire truth. At least just yet.

  “How old is your brother?”

  “Sixteen.” She twisted the strap of the backpack she carried between her hands, the action betraying her nervousness.

  The woman’s voice wobbled only a little as she spoke and Bachar was impressed. She had come into shifter territory looking for a person who had entered that territory without permission. Yes, tourists were allowed and even welcomed. It was how shifters made their money. But others who tried to hide their presence was another matter entirely.

  “He is an adult.”

  “No, he isn’t.” She shook her head furiously. “He is still a child.”

  “Not in the shifter world.” He watched as she tried to hide the expression on her face. Trying, without much success to hide the fact that she was lying to him about something. As he sat there not saying anything, her distress rose, and his animal took over, offering her reassurance. “We do not harm the young.”

  “I know.” She met his gaze, and he was pleased to see that she wasn’t afraid of him. Intimidated a little, but not afraid.

  “Are you in charge of the boy?”

  She nodded her head, the movement causing her hair to fall around her face. It was such beautiful hair. A thousand shades of brown, it made him itch to tangle his fingers into the silky mass and hold her head still as he devoured her mouth with his.

  “Yes. Our parents are dead.”

  “I am sorry.” He bowed his head to show his sympathy.

  “Thank you.”

  The man from earlier appeared, this time carrying a huge tray. He sat it on the table between the chairs, taking a post on the right side of Bachar.

  “I thought you might be hungry after your long car trip.” He indicated the plates filled with breakfast pastries and the pot of what smelled like hot chocolate. It looked delicious, and she was hungry.

  Oh, yeah, the small voice inside her taunted her, but breakfast isn’t all you’re hungry for, is it? You want to climb him like a tree and see how those luscious lips taste. Feel the strength of his hands on your body as he pounds inside you, making you beg for release.

  “How did you know I drove here?”

  One of his dark brows rose
at the suspicion in her voice. “What other way is there into my territory?”

  Well, he had her there. Although she was certain she’d heard a helicopter earlier as she’d driven up the steep mountainside. No doubt the shifters had some type of air transportation being so far away from any major city. It was probably reserved for their special guests. Guests, she thought with a frown, who wore high-heeled shoes and short skirts in the middle of winter.

  Another short space of silent and then he asked, “Would you mind pouring me a cup?”

  He leaned back against the chair, waiting. She hesitated only a moment before complying with his request—or should she say order. She doubted he’d ever made a request. What choice did she have? This man was the key to finding her brother, so she supposed she needed to be nice to him. Channeling the lessons she learned by reading Miss Manners as a teen, she took a deep breath and tried to erase the image of her hurdling the white ceramic pot at his chauvinist head.

  Leaning forward, she used her right hand to lift the pot. It was so heavy, she had to use her other hand to steady it. She appreciated the larger than normal cups the hotel had provided as it made it much easier to fill them. Once she had filled two of the mugs, she lifted one and handed it to the man who held her and her brother’s future in his large hands. She took hers and cupped her hands around it, savoring the warmth. The hotel was large and spacious and somewhat drafty. Looking at the two men before her, she remembered that a shifter’s body temperature ran higher than humans. Seeing them perfectly comfortable in their sweaters, she thought that might be true. Despite the warm coat she was wearing and the heat from the fire, she was still cold.

  Or maybe she was just tired. It had been a grueling two days on the road and before that she’d been on the verge of exhaustion. Between her brother and her job, there had simply been no time for rest. For living.

  Maybe that explained her unusual reaction to the man. She hadn’t a date in…well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date.

  Taking a sip, she savored the sweetness of her drink. It was the perfect balance of milk and chocolate. She watched as Bachar took a large swallow of his, the muscles in his throat fascinating her. She was surprised he would enjoy such a drink. He looked more like a black coffee drinker to her.

  Just to prove she was not completely enthralled by this stranger, she looked at the man standing so silently by his side. She made her voice as pleasant, okay, even downright sexy, as she could. Why? Because she wanted to wipe that superior look off Bachar’s face.

  “Would you care for some hot chocolate?”

  She was rewarded for her daring behavior by the stiffening of Bachar’s body when he realized his guard was looking her over.

  Bachar drained his mug and tried to tell himself that this woman with her round body and soft white skin was no different from any other woman. But his hand shook when he set his drink down, and his muscles tightened with the need to touch her.

  And he’d be damned if he’d sit here and watch as she made time with another shifter.

  “Khalas.” Bachar’s lineage did not originate in the middle-east, but he found using parts of the language stress relieving. He slammed the mug down on the table, glaring at the man who stood beside him. “You are not here to flirt with my men, Miss Wilder.”

  Sally took another sip of her hot chocolate. He thought that was flirting? She studied him before she spoke again. “Will you take me into the mountains?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bachar.” Tarek started to interrupt him, and Bachar knew exactly what he was about to say. There was no need for the woman to travel into shifter territory. If her brother had not already been found and taken into the care of a shifter, he no doubt would be as soon as Bachar put the word out. And he would now fall under Bachar’s direct protection so no harm would befall him until he was returned to his sister.

  “So, you will take me?”

  “Yes, I will find your brother.” Thankfully, humans couldn’t detect lies. Well, not exactly a lie, but certainly an untruth.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Miss Wilder. I’m not doing you a favor. The mountains, especially now, in the dead of winter, are a dangerous place to be. There are times when the temperature will drop below freezing, and it’s so cold it hurts to breathe. The snow will fall so fast and so furious that you won’t be able to see two inches in front of your face.” He leaned forward. “And let’s not forget about the animals. They’d just as soon eat you as look at you. You have entered shifter territory, Sally Wilder. You best tread lightly.”

  “Or what, a lion will eat me?”

  “No doubt.”

  For some reason, that comment didn’t have the desired effect he thought it would have on her. Instead of the smell of fear he’d expected, a wave of desire flooded the air. Had her thoughts turned naughty as his had done as soon as he’d said the words? He heard the soft grunt Tarek gave and couldn’t blame the wolf shifter. She smelled damn delicious.

  Mine, his inner lion roared, wanting to warn off the other male. Mine.

  She placed her drink on the table and leaned forward, a look of courage and determination in her beautiful brown eyes. “I don’t care. I need to find my brother.”

  He had to shutter his expression for fear of giving away his feelings. Feelings that he was determined to keep to himself. He could not take a mate now, especially not one who looked as soft and fluffy as the snow that had begun to fall outside. “I hope, Miss Wilder, you do not come to regret those words.”

  It took only an hour for Bachar to make their—or rather his—travel arrangements. She would go only so far up the mountain. When she met him at the door of the hotel as he’d instructed, he frowned, seeing the small backpack she carried. “Is that all of your luggage?”

  Sally gripped the shoulder strap in her hand and tilted her head up. “Yes, I have everything I need.”

  She didn’t want to confess that she’d panicked once she’d discovered her brother had run away. She’d barely thought to grab a change of clothing before she took off. The only other clothing she had was what she was wearing, including the completely inappropriate tennis shoes. They provided no warmth against the cold mountain temperature. Besides the clothing, the small bag contained toothpaste and a toothbrush along with some deodorant and a hairbrush. She prayed the man she was about to go traipsing into the mountains with was more prepared than she was.

  She had no idea what to expect. She assumed they would travel by car, but she also knew some of the area was completely inaccessible by anything other than foot. No doubt, shifters had no problem traversing the rough terrain in their animal forms. She, however, wasn’t so fortunate. All she had were two rounded legs that were weak from lack of any real exercise. She walked about a mile a day along a well-kept walking path near her home, but that was it. “Yes. I don’t need much.”

  Bachar stared at her with those dark eyes that made her tremble. After a moment, he motioned for the man who had stood guard beside him earlier. They stepped aside for a brief conversation. They kept looking back at her, and she had the horrible feeling they were discussing her in some very unflattering way. She straightened her spine, steeling her resolve. She could, and would do this. She had no other choice.

  Nick was all the family Sally had. As she had told Bachar, he was sixteen years old. What she hadn’t told the imposing man was that she had raised him single-handedly for nearly ten years. Ever since she was sixteen. She’d managed to keep the fact that their parents were deceased hidden from the authorities, afraid they would take him away from her. And once she discovered he was a shifter, she’d been even more terrified. She knew nothing about raising a teenaged boy, much less one that turned into a wolf.

  After another few moments, the two men stopped talking, and Bachar stepped forward. “We will leave now.”

  A valet delivered a large four-wheel drive vehicle, but Bachar made no effort to take her bag or open the do
or for her. He simply strode to the driver’s side to engage in conversation with yet another man. Sliding the strap from her shoulder and preparing to open the door herself, she wondered briefly if he was just an ass or was there something more. He carried with him that sense of power that she naturally associated with shifters. The one that said, I’m a big bad animal, and it is to your detriment if you mess with me. But his power seemed deeper, more ingrained. She had no doubt he was an alpha, but an alpha what? Whatever, or whoever, he was, he was definitely arrogant.

  As her hand reached for the handle of the back-passenger door, a strong masculine one reached for her bag. Without a word, he guided her to the front of the vehicle. He opened the door and waited for her to get inside. When she hesitated, he looked down at her, his gray eyes curious. “Do you require assistance?”

  “Yeah.” Sally rolled her eyes, his complete ignorance of the embarrassing situation she found herself in, overriding said embarrassment. “The seat is like three feet off the ground.”

  He looked over at Bachar as if seeking permission to help her and she gave another roll of her eyes. Could nothing be done without the great man’s approval?

  “Oh, never mind,” she said, trying to push him aside so she could get to the ‘oh shit’ handle. So what if her climb into the oversize vehicle wasn’t going to be all grace and beauty? Nothing about her was graceful or beautiful. She’d long ago accepted the fact that she was a plain, chubby girl with little to offer the male population.

  Just as she stepped on the running board, she felt a large hand cup her ass and lift her onto the seat. “What the hell?” She turned around immediately, sending a killing glare the other man’s way.