Blood Moon Magic

by Isobelle Carmichael

  I take in the decor; hardwood, exposed beams, and a fully stocked bar. The polished marble countertops are clean with pre-poured drinks waiting for us, and the rich red leather stools beckon tired legs to take a rest on them. Various banquet length tables, laden heavy with food, are spread sporadically around the room. The ambiance screams “wedding reception,” but I guess that is the point. The leather and microfiber couches we rented just for the occasion give the room more casual flair. It’s fucking perfect. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that the bitch also known as anxiety, who has taken residence deep within my soul, won’t rear her ugly head. I may know my place at the future head of this pack, but when she rises, I sometimes forget I even know my ABCs.

  Hello Goddess, or Elders, or whoever the fuck is in charge? Who does that? Who declares a wolf the most powerful member of their pack and then blesses them with anxiety?

  I take a deep breath and shake it off, grateful that I’m in charge of the final touches on the event because it will distract me. Once I’m confident that all the food is laid out and the drinks are poured, I signal to the bartender to pour a round of shots. As the very sexy, and very taken, shifter pours our drinks, I sneak away to the bathroom.

  Looking in the mirror, I can’t help but give my reflection a flirty smile. My dress is phenomenal, and I look amazing in it. The black sets off my bronze complexion. I flip the carbon black strands of my hair back over my shoulder and watch as they cascade down my back. After reapplying my red lipstick, I check myself out at all angles and decide I more than pass. I power walk out of the bathroom, loving the sound of my purple stilettos as they click on the hardwood. The shoes might be uncomfortable, but they add an extra four inches. Being only 5’3”, I need the extra boost.

  Okay, Abigail, let’s do this.

  I begin passing out the shots the bartender lined up for me and start a little impromptu speech.

  “Okay, ladies. In about five minutes, the first dragon males will arrive. Remember, we agreed to do this for the good of our pack. I know that this whole thing is a bit daunting, but at this point, it’s only a Claiming. Plus, I have it on good authority that some of them are quite handsome, and who doesn’t like a little eye candy?” I make eye contact with the women of my pack, smiling conspiratorially at them with my last words, and they laugh as the tension in the air is cut. I hold up my glass, “For the good of the pack.”

  At their echo of my words, I toss back the shot of whiskey and revel in the burn as it slides down my throat. I’m about to take another shot when the first of the dragons walk through the door.

  Holy Hell! It’s him, the one my wolf scented yesterday.

  I caught a brief glimpse of a tall head and dark chestnut hair as he walked across the parking lot yesterday, and now I can see his face. He’s at least 6’6” with deep hazel eyes that peek out from underneath long black lashes and rich golden skin. But my eyes are drawn to his lushly curved mouth that silently suggests I can do wicked things.

  He licks his lips, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a knowing grin. I clear my throat and remind myself that he’s not alone. The temperature of the room increases as the men begin to file through the doorway. It’s like a GQ model roll call, and I am so not ready for it.

  Thirty men in total are now inside. They span the bevy of every woman’s fantasy, and I am beginning to think my mother had the right idea if looks are the only qualification.

  The men line up and stare at my packmates, ready to begin. We start with only twelve of our females, so we’re vastly outnumbered, but I don’t feel unsafe, and I’m sure none of my packmates would disagree.

  What I do feel, on the other hand, is like my hormones have betrayed me. My wolf is prowling around under my skin, begging to be let out. She smells my mate here, and I am terrified. My heart starts beating rapidly, and wetness makes me slick with need as the Claiming hormones begin to overwhelm me. Embarrassment flushes my face when I realize I’ve locked eyes with the first man who entered and haven’t stopped staring at him.

  Clearing my throat awkwardly, I break eye contact and finally toss back my second shot of whiskey, praying they can’t smell my arousal. He steps forward and introduces himself.

  “Abigail, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Shaun Lancaster, son of Alpha Seamus of Clan Wyvern. I look forward to an enjoyable first meeting of our two clans, and hopefully many more to come,” he says while extending his hand.

  I hesitate for an instant, knowing the minute our hands meet, our destiny is set. Either my wolf will become joyous and Claim the man in question upon a simple handshake, or nothing will happen. Occasionally, with the stronger Claims, the old magic will surface and cause a partial shift making my eyes flash to that of my wolf. Any way you put it, it starts with a mere handshake.

  As his eyes glide over my body, my cheeks heat further in response. I send a silent thanks to the Goddess for my darker complexion as he clutches my outstretched hand. A jolt travels straight down to my clit as my wolf leaps for joy. My vision sharpens as my wolf takes over, giving me her sight.

  My wolf howls in my mind. Mine! And I acknowledge her Claim.

  I walk down the line continuing to shake hands with each man. Some are insanely gorgeous, and some are more plain, but they all look like they will make fine mates.

  My wolf perks up as I come up to a set of twins who introduce themselves to me as Kaden and Kaleb. They’re shorter than Shaun by several inches, standing at around 6’1” with light brown hair, rich tan skin, and steel grey eyes—one light grey, one dark, like a stormy night. They are mirror images of each other and devastatingly handsome. I catch their eyes and get the full force of their twin charm when they wink at me simultaneously with different eyes.

  Holy panty dropper. That should be illegal. How is a woman supposed to stay sane in the face of that kind of devastation?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, and shake their hands, magic zipping up my arm at the contact with each of them. My eyes shift again, and in that instant, they’re Claimed. The glowing eyes of their dragons greeting my wolf sets my heart racing.

  Next, I meet Marcus, roughly 6’3” with a bad boy grin, and gorgeous copper curls. His eyes are the most stunning shade of jade green set against a backdrop of pale skin sprinkled with delectable freckles. When he says hello, and I hear a touch of an Irish accent, I find myself anticipating the rush of magic that will come from our first touch, and my wolf literally sighs when it happens.

  Unfortunately for me, he seems unhappy with the Claiming and his eyes turn hard, boring into me until I have no choice but to pull away.

  I quickly keep things moving until I’m in front of a guy shorter than the rest at maybe 5’11”. He seems shy with thick-rimmed glasses and blue eyes brimming with intelligence and hunger.

  Hmm. Maybe not so shy after all.

  His soft blond hair and light blue eyes are set in a face that’s naturally tan from hours in the sun, betraying his love of outdoor activities.

  He grips my hand firmly and says, “Hello, Abby. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Justin, and I can’t wait to get to know you better.” This time when the zing of magic hits my system and shoots straight to my core, I’m nearly bowled over by the combination of my new mate’s scents.

  Well, hello, Claiming hormones. Nice to meet you!

  My wolf is rolling around and yipping, overwhelming me with the pleasure she feels. I’m stunned and can’t help but snap at her.

  Really, girl? I hiss at her, five? You just had to like five of them? What am I gonna do with five mates?

  As usual, she’s paying me no mind, and instead of snorting and yipping in response to me, a sound I’ve come to realize means she’s laughing at me pours out.

  I try to assure myself that it’s okay. Just because she’s Claimed these five males doesn’t mean she’ll choose to solidify the Claiming and Bond with all of them, but the chances are high.

  Holy Shit, my wolf has just decided that these men ar
e my mates.

  FUCK!

  After I greet the last dragon shifters, I move away and leave one of the other girls behind me to meet the men. With my turn over, the Claiming has officially begun.

  I sit down at a table to watch and think back on what my grandmother told me about this ceremony.

  “Remember this, Abigail, we’re shifters; our animals can scent a potential mate far better than our human sides can judge future partners. Well, for the most part. They’re not infallible. Nonetheless, if your wolf Claims a male, it is expected you will listen to your animal side and accept the Claim. You are so special, sweetheart. Stronger than any alpha I have seen in years, and I hope to be around to see who you Claim.”

  I smile at the memory. It’s bittersweet because she didn’t survive long enough to meet my mates. But while my grandmother was alive, she imparted so much wisdom that I should be more than ready to tackle this next task. My heart is racing as I watch my packmates greet each man, but fear cannot rule me right now.

  I wait for everyone to finish, knowing anything could happen during these minutes. Already the possessiveness of my wolf is taking over, but there is still a chance one of my packmates could Claim the same dragons as I did, and a choice must be made. Or even worse, the dragons I’ve Claimed can choose to reject my Claim outright, and based on the look on Marcus’s face, he might do just that.

  “Abby,” I hear my name and whip my head around to see Cheyenne’s warm brown eyes alight with amusement at me.

  “Chey,” I begin, but she interrupts.

  “Five, you saucy little minx? Couldn’t save any for the rest of us? You’re just gonna snap up five gorgeous dragons in the first few minutes and leave the leftovers to the rest of us?” she declares with mock indignance.

  I laugh as she quirks her brow at me, and I punch her lightly on the shoulder. “I would hardly call the remaining men leftovers,” I grab her hand, pulling her to the bar.

  “What are you doing?” she protests. “I have a mate to find. Let me go! Veronica is over there, and you know she’ll say her wolf has chosen ten just to one-up you and to spite everyone else. Plus, that Pierce guy looks delicious; I was crossing my fingers and toes when you shook his hand.”

  I stop in my tracks and stare at her.

  “Why haven’t you already met the guys? You were supposed to go right after me.” As a beta in power, and the smell of a future lieutenant, she should have gone next, as was her right.

  “Because,” she says with an eye roll. “Veronica, that’s why.”

  I’m torn between needing my bestie and doing my duty, but duty always wins. So I sigh before saying, “Meet me over at the bar once you’re done.”

  She gives me a concerned look and then struts over to the group of men, announcing her presence with her exaggerated southern drawl. “Well hello, darlins! I’m so very sorry Veronica over here has cornered y’all, but I’m here now. I’m Cheyenne, but you can call me Chey.”

  She puts a little extra wiggle in her walk, and she’s less than subtle as she steps in front of Veronica—who we all call Ronnie—and grabs Pierce’s hand. I watch her eyes shift and smirk at the look of rage on Ronnie’s face. Dropping his hand, she moves down the line and continues to shake hands. In the end, I see her turn to me and hold up three fingers.

  Well, well. Looks like I’m not the only one with a greedy wolf.

  Ronnie’s face gets redder, and her mouth drops open. I see her move through the line of men twice before stomping over to a group of two other women who had no luck. There are still six women left to go and several men who haven’t been Claimed. The odds are good for everyone. Finally, when they are all finished, there are two men and three women left with no matches.

  My packmates meet me at the bar for a mini-debrief.

  “I Claimed four,” Cara says, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are sparkling with excitement.

  Three women in total had no match, and two women only Claimed two dragons, but most Claimed three, as has been the norm in recent years.

  “Girl, did you miss the part where I Claimed five?” I declare, winking at her.

  I’m putting on a show for my girls, not letting them see my fear, but inside I am in fight-or-flight mode. They can’t see it, but my mind has booked a one-way ticket to Australia. I call on my alpha powers and ask for help to keep me from running to hide in a closet with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “Uh oh, I know that look,” I hear Chey say from beside me. “You’re thinking about running, aren’t you?”

  I try to control my wince, but I’m not sure if I succeed. “Not at all. I’m here for the duty and honor of my pack.”

  Sheesh, even I can hear how unbelievable that sounded.

  “Bullshit, Abby. You’re scared, but you can’t run from this relationship like you have every other one, and I know that pisses you off,” she says, pulling me in for a quick side hug.

  Leave it to my best friend to call me out on my cowardice.

  “I don’t need a therapy session, Chey. I just need to suck it up and get this over with,” I reason.

  “You’re gun shy, but it’s normal, and you can’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone knows about the epic love story your parents had before your father died, and loving someone that much only to lose them would terrify anyone,” she remarks, while squeezing me on the shoulder.

  I can feel tears burn my eyes. “It just seems so awful for her to be so alone, and with a Bonding, I’d be just as vulnerable. I can’t protect my heart anymore, and that’s what scares me.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “You can’t, but you can’t write them off before giving them a chance to show you it’s worth it. Just go over and say hi to the five gorgeous dragons waiting patiently for you, and I’ll do the same.”

  “You’ll leave my dragons alone,” I growl. My eyes widen at my sudden change in attitude and abrupt proclamation.

  “Oh my, my. Possessive already. Well, put your mind at ease, girly. I’m going to go talk to my dragons, you go talk to yours,” and with that, she saunters away.

  With no options left, I approach the table where my men are sitting together. My wolf claimed these five gorgeous shifters, and I owe it to myself and to her, to get to know them.

  Chapter Four

  Abby

  After taking my seat, I stare at the five men settled around me.

  “Okay, so this is how we’re going to do to this,” I declare, and lock eyes with a pair of hazel, twin shades of grey, green, and finally soft blue eyes.

  My heart is pounding far too loud, and my wolf is growling at me. Her wishes are clear, but I need her to calm the fuck down. We’re in a battle for control, and I am just barely maintaining the upper hand. Squeezing my thighs together, I focus my attention back on Shaun, ignoring the raised eyebrow he gives me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my head.

  “Well?” Shaun says and smiles at me with a grin more decadent than a hot caramel sundae.

  “Why don’t we start this off with a group date? We can meet at The Cadillac at 7 p.m.,” I say.

  “The ball is in your court, and we can do this however you’d like, but I would prefer to spend time with you alone first.” He licks his lips, and I follow his tongue as it darts in and out, barely suppressing my desire to suck it into my mouth and figure out if he tastes just a good as he looks.

  Holy hormones! This is going to be a problem.

  My pulse spikes and I quickly break eye contact, “I can understand that, but I would like the chance to get to know all of you equally, which means group dates. At least, in the beginning.

  And maybe a trip to the bathroom because I think I creamed my panties a little.

  I know I’m speaking in a rush, but I can’t bring myself to slow down, wanting to get all the words out. These men are doing a serious number on my mating urges. I thought I was prepared, but I was very wrong.

  Nope, nope, ALL the nopes. This is way more intense than I was expecting. Do not
fuck the pretty dragons, Abby. At least not until you can tell the twins apart.

  I glance at the men, staring them down. One by one they lower their eyes to the table. “So we’re in agreement then? A group date to start?”

  “Yes, Abby, a group date sounds fantastic,” a twin says, giving a slow wink that has my insides dancing.

  Oh, you little troublemaker!

  I seethe at my wolf, and as usual, all I can hear is her snort of laughter in my head. She is clearly enjoying herself.

  You are not helping you know!

  Mine!

  I roll my eyes, and then feel my cheeks flush for what feels like the hundredth time when I realize they’re all still staring at me. Five sets of hungry eyes are watching my every move. It’s intimidating, to say the least, but I am no damsel in distress.

  “Well, now that we’ve covered that part, we should move on to our next order of business, which means I need to speak privately with you, Shaun.” I get up from the table and move to the bar. I don’t ask him to follow me; I expect that he will do so.

  Shaun stands and comes towards me. The way he’s stalking forward would make a lesser woman than me retreat. Truly, if I didn’t know he was a dragon, I’d swear he was some kind of big cat. I know he’s trying to see who’s more dominant, and the alpha in me wants to put him in his place and settle that debate right now, but I rein her in, for the time being. I need to get to know these men and am in no mood to pull out a ruler. My continually swinging hormones are giving me a headache.

  I clear my throat, “We have three males and two females who weren’t selected by anyone. What do you want to do about it?” Biting my lip, I stare at his mouth again and go back to wondering what it would be like to kiss him. I realize he’s not speaking, just smiling down at me.