FMR

by SL

  were drifting in bliss when something slammed into her mind. Fear

  coiled inside her belly as her senses leapt to instant alert.

  "Derek?" she whispered, rolling to face his sleeping form on the

  bed beside her. "Derek, wake up!"

  "Huh? What?" He was groggy. She hated waking him, recalling

  how tired he'd been after an exhausting day, but her sithech-senses

  were being assaulted by something nearby ... something angry.

  Megan desperately tried to explain what she was sensing. "I don't

  know what it is, but it's a strong feeling, Derek, and a disturbing one."

  She watched Derek swing his legs over the edge of the bed and sit up,

  spearing a hand through his hair.

  "Did you see anything at the window?" he asked in a low voice as

  he rose, quietly padding over to the sheer curtains. Silhouetted by the

  moonlight, he peered out through the glass and then turned to face her.

  "No, but I feel it." She shook her head, crossing her arms over her

  chest. "What about you?"

  "I don't see anything outside, but, you're right, I sense something,

  too." He sighed. "I'm getting dressed and checking it out. You stay

  here."

  "Oh no!" Megan quickly got up from the bed. "I'm going, too!"

  "Megan." Derek's voice held a note of warning.

  "I think we should both check it out," she replied, tossing him a pair

  of jeans and a black t-shirt.

  He didn't protest out loud, but she could hear him clearly in her

  mind. You're one stubborn sithech , Megan McShaw!

  Me? Stubborn? I get it honestly. She grinned. It runs in my family.

  Derek chuckled, shaking his head as she quickly tugged on her

  jeans, a pullover sweater and sneakers. After tying back her hair from

  her face, she reached into the duffle bag she'd brought in earlier from

  the car. Clipping the cell phone to her belt loop, she dug deeper into

  the bag.

  "Aha!" she whispered.

  "What?"

  "Lucky for us, I put my tranquilizer pistol in the bag." She held up

  the gun in triumph. "I'm bringing it with us."

  * * * *

  Derek was already dressed, his hand on the doorknob. In the dim

  lighting of the cabin, he turned to her with an anxious expression on

  his face. That's a good idea. He nodded. Let's hope we won't need to

  use it.

  Unlatching the door, he gave a gentle push and, with a soft creak, it

  swung open. Nocturnal sounds drifted in on the autumn night breeze.

  Derek's eyes darted over the lawn. Without being in sithech-form he

  couldn't see anything, but he could definitely sense something was not

  right. An invisible menace was somewhere in the darkness, toying

  with their senses.

  Cautiously, he stepped out onto the porch with Megan close behind.

  He wished she would stay inside, but arguing with her was futile. The

  full moon filtered through tree branches, illuminating the wooded

  glade with a silvery glow.

  Derek thought about transforming to check things out. However,

  before he could, the sharp snap of twigs and the crunch of leaves drew

  his attention. A shadow was moving close from just beyond the trees.

  Not taking his eyes off the dark form, Derek gestured for Megan to

  stay put. "Who's out there? What do you want?" he shouted.

  "I've been looking for you," came a throaty growl from the

  shadows. The speaker moved into the clearing. It was MacDonald.

  Moonlight illuminated his burly shape against the darkness. "You and

  me, we've got a score to settle, Lee."

  Derek's gut tightened. His sithech-senses were telling him

  something was seriously wrong with MacDonald. Derek strained to

  see more clearly in the silvery light, then he saw the angry man's face

  was covered with fur, not facial hair. His eyes glowed green and his

  teeth were dangerously sharp and jagged in his mouth. It was like

  something out of an old Hollywood B-movie ... MacDonald was a

  werewolf!

  "Oh my god!" Megan gasped over his shoulder. She saw it, too,

  MacDonald's mutated transformation. "H-he's part wolf and part

  man!"

  "Get back into the cabin, Meg," Derek ordered, without taking his

  eyes off of MacDonald. "Call for help!"

  "Not before I tear you apart!" MacDonald snarled, running up to the

  porch with heavy, lumbering steps. He reached out with fur-covered

  hands, his claws glistening in the moonlight. The wolfman's features

  were contorted with ugly rage.

  Derek heard Megan let out a yelp. She shuffled back into the cabin

  and slammed the door shut. A ripple of relief coursed through him

  just before MacDonald lunged forward and attacked.

  Clenching his clawed fists, the half-wolf swung wildly. His blow

  knocked Derek off his feet and sent him sprawling onto the porch. An

  explosion of agony shot through Derek's jaw, followed by a wave of

  nausea. He shook his head, trying to clear the sensation, but

  MacDonald's claws dug into his shirt, jerking him up.

  Before he knew it, he was airborne and hit the leaf-covered ground

  away from the cabin door with a hard thud. Derek groaned, pain

  racking his body. MacDonald was swearing, his clawed fists

  pounding on the cabin door.

  "When I'm done with this little mutt, I'm coming back for you,

  bitch!" he snarled.

  MacDonald's threat burned into Derek, anger coiling up from deep

  inside him. Threatening him was one thing, but to threaten Megan

  was something entirely different.

  Despite his dizziness, Derek attempted to call forth the

  transformation. For the first time in his life, he wanted the beast to

  emerge. Sweat beaded his brow, but nothing happened. His body

  shook with anger and bittersweet adrenaline. "Leave Megan out of

  this, MacDonald," he hissed.

  MacDonald leaped off the porch, jerking Derek to his feet.

  McDonald's claws gripped tight into his forearms. The metallic scent

  of blood filled the air. His blood. Derek thrashed. "You son of a

  bitch!" he spat out as his foot landed a swift blow to MacDonald's

  nads.

  The wolfman howled with pain and fury, tossing Derek hard onto

  the ground. Curled up, Derek reached into the depths of his being,

  seeking out the beast within him. Oh please!

  A dark shadow loomed over him, blocking out the moonlight. "It

  figures she'd fall for a mutt like you, Lee!" Derek shot a sharp gaze to

  MacDonald as a smirk formed on his contorted face.

  A flash of foolish bravado flickered through Derek. "What's a

  matter, MacDonald? Are you jealous?" he taunted back with a wicked

  grin.

  "Why you – " MacDonald's clawed hands reached out.

  Derek gave a sharp inhale. A loud pop resounded over the

  wolfman's shoulder, followed by a zing that sliced the air. He gave a

  startled yelp and spun around.

  Derek saw the dart lodged between the big man's shoulder blades as

  MacDonald rushed angrily toward the cabin. Derek's gaze flickered

  to the porch. Megan stood there, brave in her stance, the tranquilizer

  pistol in her hands. She was lining up another shot when MacDonald

  barreled onto the porch.

  "Wat
ch out, Megan!" Derek shouted, but it was too late. Before

  she could squeeze off another shot, MacDonald lashed out, knocking

  the pistol from her hands. Derek helplessly watched as he took

  another swing. The wolfman hit Megan hard. She staggered back

  against the door with a loud crash, her limp body sliding down onto

  the porch.

  Frustration swelled inside him. Rage blurred Derek's vision as he

  felt the full moon's burning heat pumping through his veins. He

  tossed back his head, a raw howl escaping from his throat. The 'moon

  fever' swiftly overtook him, ripping the clothes from his body as the

  beast emerged.

  In sithech-form, Derek charged MacDonald. With a snarl, he leapt

  up, forcing the wolfman to the ground with a harsh thud. Hot waves

  of anger radiated in the air as the two bodies clashed, then tumbled

  over the leafy ground.

  MacDonald growled, clothes shredding, as he transformed fully

  into wolf form. He was a larger, black wolf, but the smaller, tawny

  animal was more aggressive. Finally, he pushed Derek off, sending

  him to the ground. The tawny wolf rolled onto all fours and shook

  leaves from his fur. He glanced over at Megan, still slumped on the

  pouch.

  She gave a low moan, opening her eyes and sat up, holding her

  head. I'm okay, Derek, she reassured him.

  Derek turned, adrenaline pumping through him, and narrowed his

  gaze at MacDonald. Attacking me's one thing, MacDonald. Attacking

  Megan, that's another. He conveyed with a harsh growl. I'm gonna

  sink my teeth into your –

  You gotta catch me first, mutt! The big, black wolf spun around,

  dashing off into the woods.

  No, Derek, don't! Megan desperately conveyed, but the 'moon

  fever' had overridden him. The tawny wolf snarled and raced off after

  MacDonald.

  He sped after the black wolf, his paws kicking up leaves in his

  wake. Anger coursed like liquid fire through his veins. Derek

  followed MacDonald's foul scent on the night breeze, barreling into

  the moonlit forest after him, hot on his trail.

  * * * *

  Megan scrambled to her feet and reached for her pistol. Ray and

  Bruce were on their way. But how soon would they arrive? She ran

  down the steps. In the distance, she heard the rustling sounds of

  MacDonald and Derek running through the woods, going deeper and

  deeper into the foliage.

  Clutching her pistol, she dashed off into the woods, following the

  distant echoes of the fighting wolves. If I 'turn wolf' now, I won't be

  able to use my pistol. Her heart raced in her chest. Hoping no one

  would get killed, she bravely ran deeper into the wooded glade after

  the two moonstruck wolves.

  As wolves, Derek and MacDonald were snapping and growling at

  each other. The whiteness of their jagged fangs glistened in the

  moonlight. Their furry bodies clashed together, rolling on the leaf-

  covered ground.

  Megan stopped, taking a stance and aimed her pistol. Frustration

  rippled through her as she attempted to distinguish which wolf was

  which in the tumbling mass of fur and teeth.

  "Derek!" she cried out. But it was futile. She sensed white-hot

  anger in the air as the two wolves continued to fight. Her gut

  clenched as she realized they might battle to the death.

  Even in the dim light of the moon, she recognized the pit, the

  gapping crater among the leaves. Derek, be careful! He didn't

  respond. Snarling, jaws snapping wildly, the wolves were teetering

  closer to its edge.

  The black wolf's pace was slowing. A sense of triumph flickered

  through her. She sighed with relief as the wolf pulled away from the

  fighting and retreated a few paces. He shook his head. The

  tranquilizer was working, but MacDonald's eyes glowed with evil

  intent.

  Megan aimed again, squeezing the trigger. Nothing. The gun was

  jammed. "Damn it!" she cursed, tossing the useless weapon aside.

  MacDonald was eyeing Derek. The tawny wolf held his ground. A

  deathly odor hung heavy in the air. The black wolf made his move.

  With a fierce growl, he leapt for the tawny wolf with his jaws opening

  wide.

  "Look out!" Megan shrieked in alarm. Derek jumped aside. The

  other wolf landed on the bed of leaves. Attempting to stop, he

  skidded, unable to get solid footing. MacDonald let out a yelp of

  surprise and toppled over the edge of the pit.

  Megan raced forward as the tawny wolf transformed back to Derek.

  He was heavily panting, his naked body drenched with sweat and

  blood. Together, they looked over the edge of the earthen crater.

  MacDonald's unconscious, naked body was sprawled out at the

  bottom on a cushion of leaves. Megan exhaled a sigh of relief. "I

  think he's okay. I don't sense anything broken." She turned away from

  the pit in disgust. "It serves him right. He was trying to kill you!"

  "I was worried he'd kill both of us. Between the dart and the fall,

  I'd say he's out cold for now." Derek shook his head. Moonlight

  twinkled in his amber eyes as he reached out, drawing her close. "So,

  are you okay, Meg? How's your head?"

  "I'm okay." She shrugged. "I grew up with two big brothers. I'm

  fairly tough."

  "You sure are." Derek grinned, his mood lightened a bit. "So what

  are we going to do with Sleeping Beauty there?" he inquired, glancing

  over at the pit.

  "I called Rhonda. Bruce and Ray should be here soon to take care

  of MacDonald," Megan sighed. "But I suggest we get back to the

  cabin and clean up before they arrive."

  "Sure. Besides, I don't think running around the woods in my

  birthday suit will impress your brother much." Derek winked.

  "No, it won't," she agreed. "But I think he'll be more interested in

  dragging MacDonald out of that hole."

  "So, what's he going to do about MacDonald? I mean, doesn't

  attacking another pack member go against your pack rules?" Derek's

  brows knitted together with genuine concern.

  "That's pack law and, yes, even though the 'moon fever' did have

  something to do with his 'turning wolf', that doesn't excuse his

  actions." A chill passed over her skin as Megan remembered. "But

  what happened tonight was so ... so bizarre. I've never seen any

  sithech turn into a werewolf before. That was downright scary!"

  Megan returned her gaze back to Derek. "But why did you go after

  him? He was literally a lunatic! MacDonald could have ... could have

  ... " Her voice trailed off as tears threatened in the corners of her eyes.

  "Sweetheart, I can take care of myself," Derek assured her as they

  walked slowly back toward the cabin. "Besides, nobody, especially

  an asshole like MacDonald, is going to attack my mate and get away

  with it. Nobody."

  "Mate? Did you say mate?" Megan's eyes widened with surprise.

  She could hardly believe her ears.

  "Well, yeah, I did." A slow grin spread over his face. "I was going

  to wait and ask you in the morning, after sunrise."

  "Ask me? Ask me what, Derek?" Megan voice quivered with

  emotion. Just a few yards
from the cabin they stopped, gazing into

  each other's eyes in the moonlight.

  Although he was still naked and dirty, Derek went down on one

  knee in front of her and smiled up at her. Tenderly, he took her hand.

  "Megan, I'm tired of living alone, without a pack. But most of all, I've

  been searching for someone to love me ... and my beast."

  "But you're not a beast, Derek, you're sithech. The blood of the

  wolf runs strong in you. I've sensed it from the moment we first met,"

  Megan assured him.

  "Have you also sensed that I'm in love with you?" he asked, his

  eyes glistening in the moonlight. "You're the one I've been searching

  for, Megan."

  Her heart skipped a beat. "Derek, do you really mean it?"

  He nodded, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Sweetheart,

  would you please be my sithech-mate?"

  A feeling swelled up inside her, washing over her senses,

  enveloping her heart. Her instincts were right. Derek Lee was her

  mate, only she'd been too worried the 'bad moon' had distorted her

  true feelings for him. Instead, the Samhain moon was revealing their

  true love for each other.

  Megan tugged at his hand, drawing him from his knees. She

  encircled her arms around his shoulders and drew him close.

  "Yes." She smiled up at him. True happiness reflected in his eyes.

  Derek leaned in, his lips brushing hers. However, she made the move

  first, capturing his mouth in a hot, spellbinding kiss.

  BOOK II

  FULL MOON FEVER

  CHAPTER 1

  "Damn it!" Jacqueline Hamilton snapped off the radio in

  frustration. She flexed her hands on the steering wheel of her

  Volkswagen Beetle, then cast a glance up to the early evening sky.

  Gray, puffy clouds loomed overhead and the moon was hiding. "Fine

  time for a wintry mix warning," she grumbled, depressing the

  accelerator. She had to reach Heather Grove for her assignment and

  avoid getting stuck in the oncoming weather.

  It was all her editor's fault, she concluded. "I swear, he's sending

  me out here on a wild goose chase!" But she'd wanted it bad. So bad,

  she could taste it. This was her big chance to prove herself as a

  competent, full-time columnist for The Inside-View magazine.

  "Jac, you have a good news-sense. You really know how to go

  after a story, no matter how strange it may seem." Frank Collins, her