by Afton Locke
He let out a breath. “That was incredible.”
“It just gets better and better.” Or it could, if he stayed.
When the rest of the lake finally came into focus, she realized the party was still going on without them. But something drew her eyes to the road where several of the pack’s vehicles were parked. As if he sensed her sudden unease, Alan glanced in the same direction.
Two motorcycles pulled up. Tall, burly men dressed in black leather got off and stalked toward the party. More bikes arrived—a hornet’s nest of throbbing engines that drowned out the music—and parked farther away.
“I-it’s the Starwood pack,” she said, gasping. “What’s left of it. They must be here for revenge.”
“Holy orange pulp! They’ve got guns.” He squeezed her hand underwater. “Stay here. Duck and hold your breath if you have to. Promise?”
She nodded as her heart flopped in her chest like a hooked fish. Don’t let him die, she thought, wishing he’d left before now so he’d be safe. She didn’t want any of them to die. Her entire pack was here. Starwood must have heard about the party and known their defenses would be down.
Heaven help them all.
Chapter Eleven
Shelley clung to the reeds at the side of the lake. The male wolves of Moonlight pack shifted and circled the invaders. The guns in their hands made it clear they hadn’t come to talk. Her heart beat so fast she could barely breathe. The urge to shift yanked her muscles and ached in her bones, but she could navigate water better in human form.
Her focus attached to Alan. First, he pulled his father and Rita to the ground. Huddling, they shivered under the table. Luckily, the marauders fixed their attention on someone else. One of them aimed at his belly and tried to bowl him over.
Shelley blinked, unable to believe the festive barbecue had turned into a battlefield. Music still played in the background. The pig carcass, gruesome looking in the shadows, still smoked.
Shots fired and Brett went down. He writhed in agony, paws in the air. The sight of blood spilling on the ground pulled her into a shift she couldn’t control. Her pack needed her.
She jumped out of the water and stuck to the perimeter of the fighting. When one of the rival wolves went after Curtis, aiming for his jugular, a million thoughts flew through her mind. She remembered their relationship, imperfect but a comfort over the years without Alan.
A hair-raising howl filled the air, and the entire atmosphere seemed to explode as Alan jumped off one of the tables. At the same moment, one of the thugs aimed a gun at his chest, but he didn’t look, as if he saw no one but Curtis.
With a feral growl, he locked his jaws into the throat of Curtis’s attacker, bringing him down. And he didn’t stop there. Whipping his head from side to side, he tore out pieces of flesh. A pale windpipe, severed and bloody, dangled from the ripped patch of fur.
As soon as the attacker’s jaws released, Curtis rolled under a table. A flash filled the air as a shot fired. Alan lunged away, but not quite far enough. A red hole bloomed in his hindquarters as he sailed through the air.
A squeaky grunt spilled from his throat when his legs hit the ground, but he didn’t stop. Shelley dodged here and there with her belly low to the ground. She couldn’t keep her eyes off her mate. As soon as it was safe, she needed to tend to him.
To her surprise, he didn’t stop. With his back left leg practically dangling in its socket, he lunged toward the man with the gun, knocking him down with both forepaws. The gun fired once more, safely into the air this time.
Alan’s jaws worked again, making hamburger of that throat, too. She’d never seen such a vicious killing machine in her life. Prom night had been a tea party compared to this. She yelped when a club descended on his skull. That didn’t stop him, either.
Bloody spittle clung to his sharp, crooked fangs in long strings. The wild expression in his brown eyes asked, Who’s next? Her heart battered her ribcage. What if he turned on their pack as well? What if he was so out of control he didn’t know the difference? Her theory about kinship was about to be put to the biggest test yet.
He didn’t harm any Moonlight members. His heroics gave the rest of their pack an advantage. Soon, the invaders were surrounded and started retreating to their motorcycles, leaving several dead behind.
When they were finally gone, Shelley shifted to human so she could tend to the injured more easily.
“Oh my God!” Barbara cried, her jeans practically ripped to shreds. “If I’d known this would happen, I would have brought more needle and thread.”
Shelley raced to her mate’s side. He’d resumed human form again, too, gasping and gripping his bloody thigh. The rest of him bled so much she couldn’t tell where one wound began and the other ended.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” she cried, raining kisses above his cut lips.
He gazed up at her with chocolate-brown eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than that to kill me.”
She’d never forget those eyes—hard and opaque when he fixed them on his enemies, but warm and melted for her.
Curtis shifted to human form and gripped his hand. “Y-you saved my life. Thank you.”
“Of course I did,” Alan said. “We’re brothers.”
Shelley used a wadded-up napkin to help block the flow of blood from his thigh. Derek limped over, as patched and bloody as many others.
“You were amazing, Alan,” he said, squeezing his arm. “The best weapon we’ve got.”
“Hear, hear,” Rand seconded, holding up a fresh beer.
“My theory about kinship was right,” Shelley pointed out. “I’m always right, Derek. Remember that.”
He laughed. “I will. Tonight proved why each species has mutations. What might not fit into everyday life is exactly what’s needed in times of crisis.”
“All my life I’ve been trying to fight my instinct with logic.” Alan blinked at the moon. “I never dreamed being a freak could be a good thing.”
“It’s a really good thing,” Derek agreed, “but I wish we could avoid the violence between packs. We’re like gangs. We took down their leaders, so they came here for revenge.”
“Maybe integrating with other packs should be an option,” Shelley suggested.
“Peace sounds good to me, too.” Alan winced. “Bullets hurt.”
Derek gripped his shoulder. “As your Alpha, I’m ordering you to stay and rest for a few days before you fly home.”
Alan gazed into Shelley’s eyes. “I am home.” Then he raised himself up to his elbows and looked around. “Where’s Dad?”
She pushed him back down. “Rita walked him to the car. They’re safe.”
Thanks to her amazing mate, they all were and would be for a very long time.
Epilogue
Two weeks later, Alan parked in the Moonlight Diner parking lot. The sky was dark, but lights and music from his diner spilled outside. Yes, his. He’d turned in his rental car and bought a used pickup truck. He wouldn’t earn as much money slinging hash as he did as a computer programmer, but he had all the riches he needed here. Home.
Near the front door, a woman in a pink satin dress smiled at him. Her silky blonde hair had never looked more smooth and perfect.
Feeling like a high-school kid again, Alan stopped before her and cleared his throat. Then he pulled a heavy square of paper from the pocket of the black dress slacks he wore. What if she played the same joke on him? Impossible. Too much had happened.
“I received this invitation.” He held it out to her. “Did you send it?”
“I did,” she replied, love gleaming in her hazel eyes.
“Then these are for you.” He handed her a bouquet filled with orange blossoms.
Rita had helped him with it. Dad had even sprayed him down with enough cologne to kill a skunk. Everyone seemed determined to give him the perfect evening.
Shelley buried her nose in the flowers, inhaled, and sighed. His p
ants tightened below the belt. He’d never get tired of hearing her earthy sounds of pleasure.
“Shall we?” she asked, opening the door.
When they stepped inside, the lights dimmed. The tables were pushed near the walls and covered with white tablecloths and sparkly centerpieces. Streamers hung suspended from the ceiling fans. Some of the pack members, musical instruments in hand, stood on a makeshift stage near the kitchen door. The rest of them, dressed in formal attire, sat at the tables.
She drew him to the center of the room, placed one of his hands on her waist, and clasped his other one. The band launched into a romantic song popular in their high-school days. He’d come a long way from being the class freak.
“May I have this dance?” she asked.
“You may, and a whole lot more.” He pressed his palm into the small of her back, showing the world she was his.
Their bodies clung together, rotating across the floor. He inhaled her orange scent, her beauty, and her love. New memories painted over the painful ones from high school.
She ran her fingers across his bare scalp, sending delicious shivers down his legs. “No bandana tonight?”
“Not tonight,” he said, grinning at her. “Didn’t seem dressy enough.”
“Darn. I was looking forward to taking it off.”
He ran his lips across her earlobe, nipping and teasing. “I have plenty of other things you can take off later.”
“Promise?”
“Seriously, though. Thank you for this. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay,” she whispered. “Forever.”
He pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I took over the diner, didn’t I?”
“I know, but part of me is afraid something will happen and you’ll leave again.”
“Nothing is going to happen, Shelley,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “The next time we dance will be at our wedding.”
She stopped dancing. “I-is that a proposal?”
“You’re the psychic,” he said, flashing a grin at her. “You tell me.”
“Yes, Alan.” Her eyes glowed with unshed tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Everyone clapped, which sounded better to him than the music. He held her closer, pulling them back into the slow, romantic beat.
“I expect my wife to hand feed me an orange every day,” he said.
“I thought you hated oranges.”
“I don’t hate anything anymore,” he said quietly. “And I love oranges now. Almost as much as I love you.”
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Hot Moon Rising Book 1
Wolf Moon by Desiree Holt
Chapter One
The rain always depressed Alexa Martin, underscoring the isolation she lived with. Scant moments ago, she’d returned from running through the trees behind her house. Concealed by the darkness, she’d given in to the urge she’d been suppressing for two days. Now, in a fleece robe, with a towel wrapped around her head, she sat curled up on the window seat in her living room. Thick drops of liquid ran down the glass like tiny waterfalls. If only there was a way she could wash away the problems in her life and make it clean and free again.
Why did I think everything would be fine when I moved to Florida? Running from our clan’s alpha really didn’t change anything except to put distance between me and everything I’ve ever known.
“You know I cannot allow your relationship with a human,” the alpha had told her in his forbidding voice. “He will turn on you when he knows the truth. Worse yet, he could expose you and the rest of us. Is that what you want?”
He was right, damn him.
She had deliberately shape-shifted in front of Ray, hoping for acceptance, but she’d seen nothing but horror in his eyes.
“What are you?” Disgust had filled his voice. “Some kind of freak? No, get away from me,” he’d shouted when she moved toward him. “Do not touch me.”
“You should have listened to your elders,” the alpha told her afterward. “I have no objection to marriage, but only with our own kind. We must perpetuate our clan. Lance is ready and waiting to make you his wife.”
“I will never marry Lance, old man,” she told him with vehemence. “He may be handsome and powerful, but he is well-known for his cruelty.”
So, she ran as far as she could, tucking away in a hidden corner of the universe where she was sure the clan would never find her.
The slam of a car door drew her attention to the driveway separating her house from the one next to it.
Jesse’s home.
From where she sat, she could see Jesse Farrell’s lean, muscular body running through the rain to his porch.
One a.m.
She could set her clock by him.
His shift with the Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department ended at midnight. Unless paperwork kept him longer than usual, he’d stop for coffee and a hamburger on the way home. At one o’clock, he’d be pulling into the driveway. Alexa never failed to notice the fatigue that slowed his steps or the tension in his posture.
What bothered her the most were the feelings she was developing for him, feelings that went far beyond worries for his safety. She’d thought hiding away in this small Southern town was the answer to her problem. A top researcher, her website brought her many clients and allowed her to work from home.
Then I saw Jesse, and I was right in the fire again.
She found herself wandering out into her backyard when he was working in his, carrying a pitcher of iced tea or lemonade. From there, it was nothing more than a short step to inviting him to dinner. Or over to watch television on his nights off.
Fool! Stupid! Idiot!
Little by little, she found herself pulled more and more to him. At night, she dreamed about him in her bed. Naked. Hot. His big hands touching every part of her body. His hard shaft plunging into her. His sensual mouth devouring her. She would awaken in a state of high arousal, her nipples painful points, the pulse in her cunt throbbing, and liquid seeping onto her thighs.
The last thing I need is to fall in love with another human.
Love! The forbidden word.
Yet, she felt it barreling down on her like a steamroller, and she didn’t know how to get out of the way. She was lost, either way.
Alexa shivered.
Can it, girlfriend. You were in trouble the moment you first talked to him. Go make yourself a cup of tea. Chamomile. Nice and soothing. Something to stifle these feelings that are definitely going to get you in trouble.
Sighing, she unfolded herself from the seat and headed for the kitchen.
The sound of the doorbell startled Alexa. On tiptoe, she peered through the peephole. She was stunned to see Jesse on her porch, dripping wet and shifting from one foot to the other.
She yanked the door open. “What’s wrong? It’s pouring rain. Why aren’t you inside?”
“Can I come in, please?”
“Oh, sure. Come on.” Yes, bring your fantastic body into my house.
“Sorry to bother you. I left my key on the counter this morning.” He raked his wet hair back from his forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Jesse always carried his car keys separately.
“In case I’m ever attacked,” he’d explained, “I don’t want anyone having a key to my house. I can keep an extra one of yours, too, if you want.”
Another link to him she should avoid.
“I’ll get it,” she told him, “but come into the kitchen. You look like a drowned rat, and you must be freezing. At least get that wet shirt off and let me make you some coffee.”
“I’ll drip all over your place,” he protested.
“Tile floors are easy to mop.” She took his hand. “Come on. I’d feel terrible if you got pneumonia and I could have prevented it.”
In the kitchen, she flipped the switch on the c
offeemaker while he took off his shirt. Then she handed him a large towel from the stack in the laundry room.
“You look exhausted. Bad night?” Her heart pinched at the weary sight of him.
Jesse scrubbed a hand over his face. “Every night’s bad with the gangs. We’ve got a couple of new ones out there ramping up their so-called initiation requirements. That makes it pretty tense on the streets.”
He was a member of the sheriff’s gang task force, a thankless and dangerous job. On the night streets, he was a shadowy figure in jeans and T-shirt, looking to stop trouble before it started. Even in a county as small as Palmetto, gangs were a big problem, many of them migrating south from Tampa.
She’d taken to waiting up for him, knowing she’d be unable to rest until he was home safely. If only she could find a way to protect him. Well, there was one, if she transformed. But she had no idea how he’d feel about a giant wolf following him around the county.
She ran a critical eye over him, noting his soaked jeans, and pulled out another towel. “You’d better take off the rest of those clothes and let me put everything in the dryer. Coffee should be ready in a minute.”
“I’m all right, Alexa. Honest. The only thing I need is to get some sleep.”
How about in my bed?
“I told you. Go to sleep like that and you really will get sick.”
“Alexa, I….”
She grinned at him. “I finally have a chance to get you naked in my house. Don’t give me a hard time.”
Something primitive flashed in his eyes at her words, and the muscles of his face tautened. He took his wallet out of his jeans and flipped it onto the counter. Still holding her gaze, he undid the snap, lowered the zipper, and slid the wet denim down his legs, along with his boxers.
In seconds, he was unselfconsciously naked. Alexa’s face flushed. She quickly handed him the second towel and turned toward the laundry room. “I’ll go dump all this stuff in the dryer.”
