Fiery Moon

by Renee Jordan

  But he was no wolf. I sensed the imprint was one-sided. Did weretigers even imprint? Most cat shifters didn't.

  “I didn't expect to meet such a radiant wolf in the backcountry of Montana,” he said, his voice low.

  “Where else would you find one?” I asked.

  Hank snorted.

  I shot him a look, my eyes hard. When I looked up, the man was already knocking on Forrest's office door. I sighed and glared at Hank again. He gave me an innocent smile back. I tossed my blonde mane and stalked back to my desk as the tiger shifter entered Forrest's office.

  “Umm, Veronica,” Hank said. “The paper.”

  “Hmm,” I said, then realized I still held the note in my outstretched arm. “Oh, yes, sorry. Here. Take it.”

  Hank snatched it, muttering, “He's not that good looking.”

  “Wow,” Macy said as she strolled up to my desk. My fellow deputy sat on the edge of my desk and glanced at the closed door to Forrest's office. “Wow.”

  “I know,” I nodded then glanced at my friend. She was the only other female wolf shifter in the pack. Until I arrived, she had been the only woman. It explained why she dated Forrest. But he hadn't imprinted her or claimed her as a mate. “I almost imprinted on the tiger.”

  “No way,” she leaned over, a large smile on her round face framed by her brown curls. She had soft, blue eyes. She crossed her long legs, wearing the same dark-brown slacks I did, her eyes wide. “He's hot, but you don't want to mate a tiger.”

  “I don't know.” I squirmed. I was so hot between my thighs. Images of the tiger naked—his body a muscular, caramel delight for me to explore—burned in my thoughts. “Did you see him? Mmm, I think he's packing.”

  “There's more to a man than how big his cock is.”

  I gave her a sly look. “I've heard you sing Forrest's praise.”

  “Veronica,” she blushed. “Not so loud.”

  “Only Hank's listening.” I shot Hank another look. “Don't you need to close a brothel?”

  His smile soured. He stood up and barked for a few of the male deputies. They formed up around him, and they walked out as a minipack. Macy watched Hank go, shaking her head. “He's always watching me.”

  “The beta's just jealous that you're with Forrest.”

  “For now.” Macy bit her lip.

  “I thought things have been going great between you two.”

  “Six months...” Macy shook her head. “I'm not sure the imprint's ever going to form between us. He's an Alpha. If it was going to happen, it would have by now. I mean, it probably would have happened the moment he laid eyes on me.”

  “It can still happen,” I told her, patting her on the hand. “I mean, what are your options? You want to mate a beta?” I blanched. I would love to go for Forrest, but he had shown zero interest in me. And the other males in the pack were not mate material. Particularly Hank.

  “Better than going for a tiger.”

  I squeezed my thighs together. “But what a tiger he is. I mean...he's so yummy. That skin. I could lick every inch of his body.”

  “Veronica,” gasped Macy.

  “You are such an innocent maid,” I laughed. “And you're dating an Alpha. How is that possible?”

  “I believe in propriety. So does Forrest. It's why he hasn't looked twice at you.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Because I'm wild?”

  “Too wild. Forrest isn't looking for high maintenance in his mate.” Macy sighed. “Which should mean I'm perfect, but I'm not.”

  I gripped her hand, squeezing it. “Maybe if you get a little wild, and do a few kinky things in the bedroom, Forrest might be inclined to imprint you. Guys like a slut in the bedroom.”

  Her cheeks colored. “Veronica! You sound like Penny.”

  “It's why she's great to go drinking with,” I laughed, glad I had met the blonde waitress. “Come on. Maybe if you surrendered that ass to Forrest.”

  Her eyes widened. “You don't mean...anal?”

  “Guys love it. And you might, too.” I leaned in. “I let Ajax—”

  The door to Forrest's office opened, and our pack leader and the tiger shifter stepped out. Forrest was almost as tall as the tiger, but far broader in the shoulders. His face was tanned and weathered by the outdoors, giving him a rugged, handsome countenance. He folded his arms before him, hints of his barbwire tattoos peeking out the sleeves of his beige shirt.

  “Michael Donovan might be back in Moonrise.”

  Macy let out a growl.

  “I haven't heard of that one,” I whispered.

  “He's Fiona's brother. A real piece of shit,” she whispered back.

  Forrest's eyes snapped on us. I flushed and straightened my back. Then Forrest continued, motioning to the tiger, “Agent Chaudhri is—”

  “Shane's fine,” the tiger said, flashing a smile at me.

  My panties melted.

  “Fine,” grunted Forrest. “Shane is with the FBI. He's been hunting Michael for several months now. The coyote's fled Miami after a drug deal went bad. Shane thinks he's trying to hook-up with Fiona and lie low in Moonrise while the heat dies down. We all know the problems he caused last time he was in town.”

  Macy growled again. Who was this guy?

  “I need someone to liaison with Shane and coordinate the case,” Forrest continued, his eyes sweeping the room.

  Kiernan, a youthful werewolf, raised his hand.

  “I think the blonde will do nicely,” Shane said, his grin increasing. “She looks like she's up for it.”

  “I am,” I said, bounding to my feet. God, those eyes. The imprint swelled in me, but I kept it in check. Tigers may not make great mates, but I bet they made outstanding lovers. Until I found my mate, I could have plenty of fun with Shane.

  Macy shot me a warning look as I walked past her. I smiled back. I marched to Shane and held out my hand. “Veronica.”

  He took my hand, his shake firm, his fingers caressing. A flush ran up my arm. Damn, he was fine. I breathed in his spicy musk. Bold, fearless, and passionate. It was all in his scent. He stepped closer, inhaling.

  “Don't you smell...intoxicating,” he whispered. Then he turned to Forrest. “Yes, Veronica will do just fine.”

  Chapter Two

  The Present...

  “What has you all snarled up, Veronica?”

  I jumped, lifting my thoughts out of the past. Hank stood before me, my current partner since Macy took her leave of absence from the force to raise their child. He was a tall, lean werewolf, his hair fiery red and cut short. Unlike most gingers, he didn't have freckles across his face and somehow had a handsome cast to his features. Chin chiseled, nose strong. Without Forrest around, he wasn't a bad looking wolf.

  “Nothing,” I growled.

  He arched an eyebrow as he sat at his messy desk. He leaned back in his chair and kicked up his legs. “Doesn't smell like nothing. You're angry, hopeful, sad, joyful, and horny all at once. How is that possible?”

  “I'm a woman. I can feel more than one emotion at a time.”

  He grunted. “So can I.”

  “Hunger isn't an emotion, Hank.”

  “Sure it is,” he grinned. “It makes me sad when I'm hungry. And then I feel happy after I've eaten. Satiated.”

  I shook my head and glanced down at my phone, reading the words. “We should talk.” What could I even say to the asshole? He broke my damned heart three years ago, and now he was coming back? Because Michael Donovan, that piece of shit drug dealer, was in town.

  I thought he was in prison. That Shane had caught him when he fled to Santa Fe three years ago.

  “What is so special about your phone?”

  “Nothing, Hank.” I sighed. “I need to go.”

  “In the middle of a shift?”

  “Yes.” I bit my lip. “I have to talk to your wife.”

  “Yeah, I figured the way you smell. Macy should be home.”

  Macy was my first partner on the force. I was glad to be paired up
with the only other female in the pack. We became close. But even I was shocked when she ended up imprinting Hank. Macy was hung up on Forrest for a while, but the Alpha never wanted to imprint her, so they just dated for about a year before it all fizzled. Macy was devastated.

  And then Hank, who had the emotional growth of a wart on a pig's backside, swooped in and helped pick up the pieces. They imprinted and now were happily married. Six months back, Macy gave birth to their first child. I wasn't sure if she was ever coming back to the force, or if she was happy to just be a mommy to her little cub.

  I was so envious of her.

  “Think you can handle things with me gone?” I asked.

  “The station's not going to fall apart just because Veronica Taylor has left the building. We can run the department without you and Forrest. Right, Kiernan?”

  “What?” a ruddy-faced deputy asked, looking up from his report.

  “Exactly,” Hank nodded. “So get out of here. The way you smell, you couldn't do your job anyways.”

  My phone beeped again. I glanced at it. Shane. “Really need to talk. Flying in. Michael's back. We believe he's dangerous. Need your help to track him down.”

  I grit my teeth. Asshole probably thought he could bang me again. That I would be happy to jump into bed and let that beautiful, caramel body ravish me over and over and over. I could come so many times and—

  “There's that horny scent again. You are hormonal today, Veronica. You're not pregnant?”

  “Do I smell pregnant?” I fumed.

  “Well, no, but the way you go through men...” He trailed off as I glared at him. “I mean, you're a modern woman who enjoys herself, and there's nothing wrong with that, but accidents can happen.”

  “I'm not pregnant.”

  “You sure? Is that your doctor texting you?”

  “Hank, you are the dumbest wolf I have ever met. I do not know why Macy imprinted you.”

  “I imprinted her,” he said, puffing himself up, a wolfish glint in his eye. “And she didn't hesitate to accept it. She was eager for it.”

  “Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I'm out of here. Don't do anything stupid. And watch out if you encounter any of the Donovans. I think I know why they're back in town.”

  We had run them out of town a few months back. Fiona Donovan—Michael was her brother—ran the gang after he went on to bigger things in Florida. She cut a deal with Kotie's ex-boyfriend, an abusive dick, and her pack tried to take us on. Many of her coyotes were killed or captured, and the ones who escaped fled town.

  We hoped to never see them again.

  “Why?”

  “Michael Donovan's back.”

  Hank's expression changed. “Which means Agent Dickhead is coming to town.”

  I let out an angry growl. “Yes.”

  “Well, I guess that does explain your snarled scent. Get going.”

  I nodded and stepped away from my desk, my gun belt jingling. I marched through the station, giving Mark and Bobby Ray harsh glares. They both gave me a wide berth, their noses twitching as they caught my scent. I burst into the sunlight of Moonrise. It was a small town, beautiful. The Rocky Mountains rose over it, the hills covered in furry-green pine trees. The scent was mostly pure, stained by the light traffic driving through Moonrise.

  I climbed into my police cruiser and started up the engine. My phone chirped a third time. I growled, pulling it out of my pants pocket. From Shane again. “I'm landing in three hours at Missoula. Be there. It's important we talk. I need your help to find Michael. S.”

  Anger and lust surged through me. The imprint tangled through me. I was a werewolf. It was our nature to give ourself to one person, our mate, for life. Like Macy and Hank or Forrest and Kotie. Happy in monogamous bliss. Shane was my mate. He would always make my heart beat fast and my pussy dripping wet. I yearned for him even as I wanted to rip off his damned head.

  It made a snarl of everything. It was best when I didn't think of him at all.

  If I went to the airport, I knew we would fuck. I wouldn't be able to help myself. And he would be expecting it. He knew I was imprinted. For tigers, the imprint was nothing. They were too promiscuous, too polyamorous, to care about one person. It was a mistake for me to let the bond form between us. And I bet he expected me to be there, wet and eager to resume our relationship.

  To be his Moonrise fucktoy until he was ready to move on and leave me again.

  Fuck that.

  I flipped through my phone, my stomach twisting with guilt. Sleeping with someone who wasn't my mate always made me feel terrible. But I had my needs. And there was a certain thrill in cheating on Shane, in cuckolding him and rutting with another man.

  Bastard deserved it. I bet he fucked every woman he could. Fucking cats.

  I stopped at Ajax's number. I hadn't hooked up with him in a few weeks. He was a great lay, one of the miners that worked the Humpback. I sent him a quick text. “Horny. You free?”

  His text came back almost immediately. “Always. My place or yours?”

  “Yours. Five minutes.”

  He sent back a winky emoji. Talking with Macy was the smart plan, but fucking Ajax and showing up at the airport reeking of his scent would be far more satisfying. Shane had to understand that I wouldn't let him hurt me again. We were mates in name only.

  The guilt twisted my innards like saltwater taffy as I drove to Ajax's, just like it had the night I gave into my desires after Shane left me and answered Ajax's booty call. The first time I fucked another man after the imprint. It was three months after Shane left me. Three months where he had ignored me.

  Three months without getting laid.

  I had gone crazy with lust when I wasn't spitting with anger or crying my eyes out hoping Shane would come back. My old lovers kept texting me, wanting to hook up, to go drinking or dancing or to just fuck. And I wanted to have fun, but the guilt held me back. I fought my lusts, driving myself wild with frustration. I wasn't sleeping or eating.

  And then Ajax had texted me one night when I was drunk on cheap beer.

  And I told him to come over.

  It was glorious to be in Ajax's arms. I forgot all about Shane as I writhed beneath the miner's powerful body. We fucked the night away. I was insatiable, and Ajax had prowess. In the end, I lay in bed, satiated, my pussy aching from being taken so hard.

  And then the guilt had twisted me. Shane was the only man I should be with. That was what my instincts howled in me. What I did was wrong. Even though Shane had abandoned me, my inner wolf didn't understand that distinction.

  I felt so guilty, I even thought I smelled Shane as I lay in bed. His spicy, exotic musk.

  And that same guilt afflicted me with every booty call since, my wolf snarling, objecting to my desires. Ajax wasn't my mate, Shane was. It was even worse today since I knew I would see Shane. So I grit my teeth, clenched my hands on the steering wheel, and channeled my hatred for Shane to keep me driving to Ajax's.

  “Bastard never should have left me then,” I hissed beneath my breath as I turned. I hit the accelerator, the V8 engine in the cruiser roaring as I raced down the sleepy street. “Then I wouldn't be fucking every hunk I can. Ooh, yes. Shane deserved to meet me smelling of my booty call. Yes he did. Bastard. Three years and now that Michael was back in town he wants to talk.

  “Asshole!”

  I took the next turn, tires squealing. Then I raced down it, passing the houses. The road turned into gravel after twenty feet. The car's rear end swerved at the change in driving surface. Dust bloomed behind me. I took the final turn too fast, the car fishtailing, gravel flying.

  I snarled and hit the accelerator. Tires squealed. Gravel pinged into the undercarriage. And then my cruiser leaped down the road, blowing past the first two driveways before I braked and turned into Ajax's. He had a single-wide trailer parked on two acres of lawn, the grass overgrown. He sat on the covered porch, beer can in hand, a straw Stetson hat covering his head. He wore a jean vest leaving his impr
essive chest and bulky arms bare. Ajax was a big man, his flesh red-tanned by the sun. He had a dusty pair of cowboy boots thrust before him, his jeans worn and ripped.

  He made good money working in the tunnels of the Humpback, the union strong. And Moonrise was a cheap town. He had plans to build a big house on the property, though he had been talking about those plans the three years I had known him. He hadn't even broken ground for the foundation.

  But I did not care about his laziness right now. It was those strong arms, powerful muscles, and hard cock I cared about.

  He took a sip of his beer as I stepped out of the car. Then he set the can on the porch and stood up with a lazy grace for such a big man. He watched me, a hungry smile on his lips as I marched across his driveway, each step faster than the last, my pussy burning between my thighs.

  I needed to be fucked. That would show Shane and keep me out of his bed. I needed to satiate this itch before I drove all the way out to Missoula and picked up my asshole mate.

  I took the stairs up his porch in a single step, almost vaulting to the top, and then I was on Ajax before he could say anything. My arms were around his neck, pulling his stubbled lips down to mine. I kissed him hard, hungrily, claiming him as anger and lust swirled through me.

  Ajax didn't hesitate. His hands seized my ass through my uniform. Large, they gripped both cheeks easily. He squeezed, pulling me against him. Handcuffs jingled as they hung from my gun belt as I squirmed, our tongues fighting, caressing. His stubble rasped on my lips.

  So strong.

  I breathed in the scent of dust, denim, sweat, and leather. Manly scents. My nipples ached in my bra and my pussy grew hotter, wetter. I squirmed as the itch to be taken built within me. I tightened my arms on his neck, holding tight as I felt his cock swell in his jeans.

  Thick. Hard. It had to be in me.

  I broke the kiss. “Come,” I snarled, seizing his hand and yanking him after me to his screen door.

  “Yes, ma'am,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  I wrenched open his screen door and hauled him inside. I held onto his jean vest, kissing him as I walked backwards into his living room. Metal crunched beneath my boots—a discarded beer can. I didn't care. When we reached his couch, I shoved him back on it.