Lonely Moon (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 2)

by M. Katherine Clark

  “Do you yield?” She asked softly.

  “An alpha never yields,” he replied. Locking one arm around her waist, he rolled so he pinned her beneath his body. Holding her arms above her head, pinning her hips between his legs, the heat of her body and scent of moonflower that clung to her hair, enticed him.

  Fire ignited in her eyes and he was struck by her beauty. Leaning down to kiss her, the moment his head was close, enough she raised hers and banged into his nose. His eyes watered as he felt the crack of bone. Backing off of her, he held his hand to his bloody face and watched her. She got up quickly and rushed him again. Grabbing him around his neck from behind, Mabh gripped him tightly.

  Instinct took over and Marrock half-phased and twisted. Mabh phased with him and was flung about him, but she held tight, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. Marrock twisted so hard that she swung around his body and they faced each other, his yellow eyes looking into hers.

  She used his body as leverage and pushed herself up, walking up his legs to his torso, up his chest until she swung her leg around his shoulders and held his arms back by her powerful legs. She twisted and the sheer weight knocked him down. She was over him in an instant, straddling him and holding his arms over his head. He was pinned. Successfully and completely pinned.

  She phased back to her human form and panted. “Do you yield, Alpha?”

  Marrock took a moment then phased as well and looked up into her dark eyes. He said nothing for a long time until, “Aye, Mabh,” he finally said softly. “I yield.”

  She lowered her face to his just above his lips. He felt her breath on the tender flesh and wished he could smell her scent again. Moonflower mixed with something else something spicier, something tart, something earthy. Lowering still, he almost felt her lips on his when she whispered; “Good.”

  Then standing, she was gone. Marrock blinked at the abrupt ending and still felt her weight and warmth on his body.

  Chapter

  Six

  Marrock had never been bested in sparring nor in battle. It was a new experience for him. There he was, flat on his back, nose broken and head hurting trying to make sense of it all.

  Surely he was dreaming. Marrock, son of Riok and alpha of the pack, could not have been beaten by a female. It was only after he felt the sting of his broken nose that he realized he was not dreaming and was in fact completely awake.

  He would never be able to show his face to his men again!

  “Methinks he is still trying to come to grips with it, Father,” he heard Weylyn say.

  “Get up, lad,” Kinnon’s voice was next. “’Tis naught but a scratch.” The teasing in his voice made Marrock laugh.

  “Aye, ‘tis naught but a scratch and yet my head aches,” he replied.

  “On your feet, Marrock,” Kinnon’s hand came into view. “A good swim is what you need. Go down to the river and wash yourself. It will help with the achy head.”

  Marrock took his uncle’s hand and stood. Hazy from the broken bone, he lost focus for a moment but Weylyn helped steady him with a hand on his back. He nodded his thanks.

  “Let me see,” Kinnon offered looking up at his nephew’s nose and without warning, he tweaked it. Marrock cried out as his eyes watered and fresh blood dripped out of his nose. “There, the bone will heal correctly. Mabh is a remarkable female.”

  “And beautiful,” Marrock muttered.

  “Aye she is that, lad,” his uncle slapped him on the back.

  “Uncle,” Marrock stepped closer. “Do you ken her parents? I wish to pay them a visit.”

  “Aye, her father was in your father’s guard; Conall,” Kinnon replied.

  “I thank you,” Marrock said. “I shall return later this day.”

  ***

  Marrock knocked at a cottage door, one of hundreds of cottages that he walked by nearly every day and yet he had never met Mabh before. About to step forward and knock again, an older man opened the door, his eyes widening.

  “Sire,” he bowed.

  “Conall,” Marrock smiled at him. “’Tis good to see you.”

  “And you, Sire,” Conall said. “What can I do for you?”

  “Who is it, Conall?” an older female voice called from behind the door.

  “’Tis the Alpha,” he replied simply.

  There was a clatter of a pot onto a table and Marrock winced. The female appeared at the door somewhat flushed and out of breath.

  “Sire,” she bowed.

  “Eara please, sire is so formal. ‘Tis Marrock,” Marrock replied.

  “Marrock,” she smiled. “Please come in. Open the door, Conall,” she said to her husband.

  Marrock smiled at the older couple in front of him and stepped over the threshold. A roaring fire was blazing in the fireplace and it warmed the cottage. Not needing heat, the wolves of his pack enjoyed the comforts he could give them and from the smells that filled the cottage the fire was more for cooking than heating.

  “To what do we owe this great honor, Alpha?” Eara asked. “Would you care to stay for dinner?”

  “Nay, I thank you,” Marrock said. “I actually have come to see your daughter.”

  “Our daughter, sire?” Eara asked surprised.

  “Aye, Mabh,” he replied.

  “Och, aye,” she answered. “She is our only daughter.”

  “I made her acquaintance earlier,” he unconsciously touched his broken nose still heavily bruised.

  “Of course,” Eara answered. “Mabh,” her mother called. “You have a visitor.”

  Marrock could not believe how his body was betraying him. His palms went sweaty and the back of his neck felt clammy. His stomach was in knots when he heard movement from the back of the cottage.

  “Och,” her voice went straight to his head like fine drink but he could not see her yet. “Alpha,” she stepped into the light and Marrock froze. Bowing, she looked up at him and her eyes narrowed. “What happened to your nose?”

  Seeing the laughter lining her eyes, he decided to play along and gently touched his aching nostrils.

  “Och, ‘tis naught but a scratch, an accident, I am sure,” he teased back.

  “I am sure you are right. Though it looks as if you were bested in the arena,” she said.

  “Nay,” he answered. “I was nae giving my all considering the opponent I was given. I did nae wish to injure them. I held back my true strength.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you yield?”

  “Ooh, an Alpha never yields, lass,” he winked slowly.

  She pursed her lips together and averted her eyes. When Marrock did not speak for a time, she looked back.

  “Is there a specific reason you called, sire?” she asked. Marrock merely shrugged. “Would you like to go for a walk?” She asked. He nodded. “Let me get my cape,” she replied and disappeared from view. Even though it was midsummer and the solstice was fast approaching, the night was chilly.

  Eventually his eyes trailed to Mabh’s parents. Their confusion gave him pause.

  “With your permission,” Marrock offered.

  They nodded. Mabh appeared again and Marrock hated the odd feelings that filled him when he saw her.

  “We will stay within the walls of the village,” Marrock said holding the door open for her. For a couple to leave the walls of the village meant they intended to mate.

  The moment the door closed, Conall looked at his mate.

  “Do you have any idea what is happened?” He asked.

  “I think our daughter has captured the Alpha’s attention,” she said.

  Chapter

  Seven

  Marrock thought a walk was a wonderful idea at the time she mentioned it. However, as they walked in complete silence, he did not know what to say. He had faced battles where the enemy outnumbered them ten to one. He had fought an onslaught of men daily in the arena. In each of those situations he knew exactly what to do and what was expected of him. His mind went blan
k as he felt her warmth beside him. His heart swelled with the slight sound that escaped her lips in a sigh. His body was heightened by the knowledge that they were alone and yet… he knew not what to say.

  Mabh stopped abruptly when they were in an uninhabited section of the village. Marrock turned to look at her.

  “Why did you visit us tonight?” She asked.

  He searched his mind to try and find something to say but the only thing that he could think to do was shrug like a surly child barely on the cusp of manhood. Half expecting exasperation, he was surprised to hear her melodious laugh. But his blood heated with anger, no one laughed at him.

  “Do I amuse you?” He demanded.

  “Nay no’ you, sire, your silence,” she answered waving him off. “I look at you and I see a man who intimidates everyone he meets, who can end wars simply by proclaiming his name and yet… you are dumb and mute in my presence. Why is that?”

  “I want to speak with you but there are two ways and I donnae ken which to choose,” he answered looking away.

  “Do you take offense to what I have said, Alpha?” she stepped forward her voice low. “’Tis the truth I donnae wish to offend you.”

  “I donnae like anyone laughing at me,” he replied.

  “I donnae laugh at you,” she answered. “I find you far too interesting.”

  His eyes turned back to her, and they locked. Seeing absolute truth reflected there, he whispered.

  “Where have ye been, lass?” he breathed. “Why have I nae seen you before?”

  “I returned from my aunt’s and uncle’s home across the loch when my brothers were killed in battle,” she answered.

  His brows furrowed at her words and the pain in her voice. Without thinking, he stepped closer and reached for her. She stepped into his embrace and rested her head on his chest.

  “I dinnae ken you had brothers, lass,” he whispered, his voice vibrating beneath her ear. “What were their names?

  “Ennit and Tirshain,” she replied her voice cracking. “They died in the last battle with the shape shifters.”

  “Ah, lass, I remember them well. They were some of the best warriors I have fought with,” he answered.

  “They always spoke fondly of you,” she replied. “I remember when I was a young lass, I would watch you three spar in training. Even then, I thought you were an excellent warrior.”

  “As are you,” Marrock said.

  She pulled back from him and looked up into his blue eyes. “I donnae desire to be sad this night, please, tell me what the two ways are that you wish to speak to me.”

  He looked so fierce before her and yet he was as gentle and confused as a new pup. He looked at her as she spoke, then as the silence lingered he turned away and looked up at the moon.

  “I should speak to you with my head but my heart is winning out,” he mumbled.

  “What does your head desire to say?” She asked.

  “It wants to ken how one slip of a girl learned to fight and to lock you up for besting me in sparring,” he said. “For I worry of my position in the clan with you.”

  “With me?” she replied. “Sire, I would never do anything to take your title. I am no alpha. I merely desired for you to see me. I donnae challenge you. I never could.”

  Looking back at her, Marrock read the sincerity in her eyes.

  “’Tis a new feeling for me, Mabh, you must nae be as affected as I am,” he answered.

  Mabh stared at him for a moment then took a single step forward and reached for his hand. Holding it in hers, she gazed up at him.

  “I am affected by your presence, Marrock,” she said and felt the shiver run up his spine. “I hardly ken these feelings inside me. But all I can admit to at this moment is that I much prefer pools of laughter than stormy seas.”

  His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked.

  “Your eyes,” she answered. “When you laugh ‘tis like a pool of crystal clear water, inviting, one that I desire to drown in.” He blinked. “But when you are angry or serious it changes to a stormy ocean at high tide. I much prefer the pools.”

  “What you are saying… ‘tis no’ right for you to speak to me or any male as such.”

  “Even one I bested in the arena?” She teased. “But go on, you were explaining what your head was telling you to say.”

  “Aye, I admit to being bested by you, Mabh,” he said. “As Alpha I am never beaten but you come along and…”

  “Careful, Alpha, that sounds more like your heart than your head,” she replied. He sighed and looked back up to the moon. “What does your heart want of you?” She said softly.

  There was a long pause before he spoke and when he did, he did not turn to look at her.

  “’Tis telling me no’ to care that I was defeated physically because the moment I saw you step forward, my heart was nae my own and I am afraid I will never get it back,” he whispered.

  “And is that a bad thing?” her voice was low and soft.

  “Nay, however,” he started.

  She held up a finger to his lips. “Nay, Marrock,” he shuddered again and she found she enjoyed making him quake when she said his name. She reached up and cupped his face. They stared at each other for a long time until her eyes went down to his lips. “Did you want to kiss me when we were sparring?” She asked.

  He could not speak. His breath had not left his throat since she had touched his face. She was looking at him expectantly, but he could not remember the question. Only when her eyes went back to his lips did he nod.

  “Why?” She asked.

  He shrugged. She smiled slightly and leaned up closer, their bodies touching. A hair’s breadth separated them.

  “Wrong answer,” she whispered and within a moment she was gone. He opened his eyes and blinked seeing her pull her cape around her shoulders as she walked back the way they came.

  He could not move. His head told him to run after her, sweep her into his arms and mate with her so no other male could claim her and his head was not telling him anything at the moment. It was as if she had wiped all thought from his mind. As he watched her retreat he was not even sure he remembered how to breathe.

  Mabh had long since disappeared from his view but he still stood there. Eventually his mind returned and he rushed after her reaching the cottage just in time to see her enter her parents’ home and close the door. She did not turn back to him but at least he kenned his mate was safe.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. Where on earth did that come from? He hadn’t spoken more than twenty words to the female and he had already claimed her as his mate? Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a huff and headed back to the keep. The thought of his pillow, a warmed cup of mead and one of his father’s treasured manuscripts was a ritual he had always enjoyed since his uncle, Kinnon, the pack’s teacher, had taught him to read and write.

  “There you are, Marrock,” Kinnon smiled as he entered the keep. “We did nae ken where you were. Join us, lad, there is plenty of food. Come.”

  “Nay, I thank you, uncle,” he answered. “I am no’ hungry. I desire to go to my rooms. How is Mother this evening?”

  “Still the same,” his Aunt Kyna replied. “But I ken she would love to see you, Marrock.”

  He nodded and thanked her. After wishing them goodnight, he went up the stairs to his mother’s chamber. Hesitating at the door, he clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. “Father, give me courage,” he whispered and without knocking, he went in.

  ***

  Marrock’s mother, Leah, sat in the chair beside the fireplace staring into the flames. Standing in the doorway, he remembered how she was when his father was alive; so vibrant, full of life and her playfully sarcastic remarks. Now, she looked so frail.

  “Mother?” He called softly. When she did not react, he pushed off the doorway and walked toward her. Crouching down in front of his mother, he gently pushed the hair off her forehead and stroked her cheek. She stayed as she was and he sighed, sat d
own, crossing his legs beneath him and started speaking. “Mother, ‘tis me. ‘Tis Marrock. Can you look at me?” His voice was soothing but still, she did nothing but stare into the fire. “I was in the arena today,” he started as he did every night telling her of his day. “I bested all the warriors who challenged me. Well, all but one. Can you believe it? A lass beat me in sparring. She is the most beautiful lass I have ever beheld. What do you think Father would say to that, hmm?” Slowly, her eyes turned to him and he smiled at her. “I think he would tell me to make her my lieutenant,” he continued. “Father always used to say you should keep the person who bested you close so you never forget how vulnerable you are, aye?”

  Slowly reaching toward him, her hand shook as she cupped his face. He nuzzled against her hand.

  “Riok?” She breathed. His brow furrowed as he answered.

  “Nay, Mama, ‘tis me… Marrock,” he said.

  “Riok,” she looked into his eyes. “You have come back to me.”

  “Nay Mama, ‘tis your son. ‘Tis Marrock,” he clarified.

  Her eyes shadowed and only then did Marrock realize that she was looking at the thing he had inherited from his father, his eyes.

  She was not looking at her son; all she saw were her husband’s blue eyes gazing back at her. Marrock took a deep breath.

  “Come, Leah,” he imitated his father’s voice. “Let us get you abed.”

  She closed her eyes slightly and nodded. Marrock picked his mother up and cradled her small form against him. He kissed her hair and laid her on her bed calling for the ladies that attended her.

  “Goodnight, Mama,” he whispered. Turning to leave, he felt her grab his hand.

  “Marrock,” she said softly, he turned to her.

  “Aye, Mama, ‘tis me,” he said bending down to her.

  “My dearest love,” she whispered. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

  With those words, she fell asleep still clutching his fingers. He took a deep breath and slowly removed his hand from her clutches, then turned when the females he had called for knocked on the door.