Blood Moon Magic

by Isobelle Carmichael

  He wiggles his tongue into my tight hole, and I cry out, grabbing his shoulders to brace myself as my knees threaten to give out. Grabbing my ass, he pulls me deeper, and sucks on my clit so hard it’s almost painful, but follows it up with maddeningly soft licks that extend the torture. When he releases one cheek to sink two fingers knuckle-deep into me, I begin to buck against him, riding against his hand with wanton abandonment. I keep going as he urges me to take my pleasure, and I do; his whispers send me spiraling out of control, and I cum hard against his hand.

  “Fuck, Kaleb, fuck!”

  “Just you wait for it, Abby; this is just a taste of what we have to look forward to and believe me, I can’t wait to sink my cock into you and bring you pleasure like this and more.”

  “Well, I’m not the only one who’s going to be getting pleasure, you know.”

  “Oh, I’m aware, and a bit embarrassed. Your first time might be short with me, but I’ll make it up to you, over, and over, and over again.” He growls the words into my ear as he pulls his fingers out of me. My pussy makes a wet sucking sound as it tries to keep his fingers deep in me, and I whimper.

  My wolf rises, urging me to finish the job—to take him and claim him. I can barely hold off the need to sink down onto his hard, proud cock. The need wraps around me squeezing me tight. I can see Kaleb’s face and know he’s fighting it, too. The more we touch, the harder is it to stop. I push him away from me forcefully and strip off the rest of my clothing. Looks like my wolf is getting her way because I need to shift.

  “I need a fucking run,” I exclaim and dart towards the door heading in the direction of my favorite trails without another thought.

  The scent of Kaleb clings to me, spurring my wolf on faster. I continue to run until my wolf can go no further and collapses, her sides heaving with exertion. The sound of wings flapping above me has me on alert, but I know it must be one of my dragons. With a sigh, I force myself to relax. In moments, a beautiful black dragon with iridescent blue stripes running down its flank lands in front of me. He is magnificent, and I thump my tail as I look him over. The excitement of knowing he’s mine overtakes my wolf for a moment. My possessiveness is at an all-time high, and it will only get worse.

  I realize it’s Justin and notice his wounds from his earlier battle are already healing. I wish I’d gotten to see the others in dragon form. Unlike me, they don’t get to shift often because it’s difficult to hide them. After today’s fight, I know we really need to perform a spell to help cloak them. No one notices a pack of wolves roaming, but the humans would lose their shit if they saw dragons flying around. Clearly, I’m broadcasting my feelings if Justin feels the need to shift and follow me, considering the danger. We’re already tempting fate, and I’m expecting to hear about a sighting of two massive, oddly colored birds on the evening news.

  Abby, your distress called to me. What’s wrong?

  Nothing, just the usual, I despise that we have to wait to have sex. I’m tired of waiting. Tired of feeling unsettled. I can sense what’s missing—that I need to take you, all of you, but I’m duty bound to wait until the ceremony. It’s complete bullshit!

  I know you’re upset. We all are. But we must do this for the good of my pack and your own. Patience, my sexy princess, and soon you’ll be sick of us because we won’t leave you alone.

  My wolf eyes him with suspicion, as he gleams in the sunlight, and I stare at the gorgeous scales shimmering as they catch the rays perfectly.

  It will be a long time before that happens.

  Come on, my beautiful alpha; I’ll race you back. Poor Kaleb is in a state after you took off like that.

  I open my bond with Kaleb, as Justin taught me during one of our lessons, and send him encouragement, letting him know he didn’t do anything wrong and that I’d be back soon.

  My wolf has recuperated enough to spring up from her perch and head back towards the den. I run at a casual pace as Justin follows in the sky. His wings thunder above me as we make our way home. As usual, Justin has managed to bring me back down. Having a man who can sense when you’re out of sorts can be amazing, but sometimes, when you just want to hide and sulk, it fucking sucks. Justin doesn’t let that stand when he senses a panic attack coming; he tends to take some of the excess emotion into himself. Marcus, I’ve noticed, has a penchant for doing the same.

  I don’t know if this is how it’s meant to be, but one thing is for sure, my elemental dragons are a perfect complement to my wolf and me.

  The rest of the guys are waiting for us when we arrive, and I send them all reassurances both through our connection and with hugs. In hindsight, taking off after a dominance fight was a lousy alpha move, but I know just how to make it up to them. Emotions are running high, and it’s my job to be there to comfort them.

  “Let’s order pizza and soak in the hot tub. Then we can watch a movie and cuddle.” My suggestion is met with four smiles and one semi-frown, but that’s good enough for me. I head inside to take another quick shower and locate my swimsuit. It occurs to me that our hot tub party could be somewhat torturous for all of us, but I shrug it off. Sometimes pain can be fun.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kevin

  “I don’t hate her enough to do this,” I grumble to my packmates, as I take a sip of my beer. “I don’t want to do this.”

  We’re at our pack bar, blowing off steam and hiding from my father. It’s Thursday night, and as usual, half the den is here getting drunk; the other half is just trying to avoid my dad. When he gets in one of his moods, his cruelty knows no bounds, and I have the scars to prove it.

  “We know you don’t, Kev, but you’re gonna have to do it, or your dad might really kill you this time.” Carter, my closest friend, and the holder of all my secrets, says to me. “You remember what happened the last time you disobeyed him, and you can’t do that again. You barely survived.” He grabs my hand underneath the table and gives it a squeeze, his green eyes simmering with far too much compassion for a wolf in our pack.

  “Doesn’t he see he’s taking it too far? Kidnapping women, that’s our way. But kidnapping Claimed women, and right before the ceremony, it’s too much; we’ll be outcasts,” I say. I get nods of agreement from my friends, and an odd look from Brad that makes me remember I’m not safe to speak freely.

  Damn it, Kevin; you’re slipping!

  “We are outcasts,” Deon chimes in, rolling his deep brown eyes as he rubs a hand over his shortly cropped black hair. It’s a nervous tic he’s developed when he’s frustrated like he can scour the bad ideas away if he does it hard enough. “We’re the Death Claws—the scum of the shifter world. What’s one more sin to add to our long list?” His question remains unanswered—none of us need to say anything. We all know we lost our path to redemption a long time ago.

  Carter and Deon are my best friends, and two of the only people I can trust with just about anything. They even stuck by me once it was found out that I was dormant—they’re both able to shift forms. But as for me, I’m broken in that sense. I can’t shift into my wolf, so it just prowls around inside of my skin snarling and yelling. And it fills me with so much rage that violence is my only egress. When blood is spilled, my wolf is peaceful, and the sick fuck is actually excited about my dad’s plan. But as usual, we don’t see eye-to-eye. He doesn’t speak, but I can read his emotions just as if he was able to talk, and I fear what can happen to me if he tries to take over my human form without permission again. The last time was traumatic.

  “Look, it’s simple. We watch for her, and hopefully one of her packmates, and we snatch them. Then we use them for our Blood Moon ceremony, and then we use them until they’re not worth anything anymore,” Brad says, and my stomach roils, Brad is not my friend. I don’t even like Brad—no one does. No one, that is, except my father. Brad is just as narcissistic and evil as my old man, and they share a bond that I don’t even want to try to understand.

  “I personally hope we get a chance to snatch Cheyenne,” B
rad says, oblivious to the fact that we’re all disgusted with him. Brad has model good looks. A strong, square jawline, curly brown hair, and eyes so blue they look unreal. It helps him attract the unsuspecting human women who frequent our bar. But he likes it better when there’s a chase.

  “That bitch has said no to me one too many times, and I’m looking forward to having her at my mercy. Shit, I hope she cries. I love it when they cry, don’t you?” he laughs, looking to us for approval. I smile weakly and nod my head, playing the part of the violent misogynist, ignoring the protesting of my own inner self, but not my wolf. He agrees with Brad. The callousness in which he discusses raping women rubs against my skin like sandpaper.

  Deon, Carter, and I all play the part, but Brad? He fucking relishes in our reputation of being the worst of the shifters. If I was stronger, I would kill him without a single regret, but I’m not, and to be honest, I can’t. Killing him will expose me for the fraud I am, and I know my father already has doubts. I need to live if I want to keep our pack treading water, even if our ship is far off course. Instead, I go with my usual plan, the little bit I can do to keep the destruction to a minimum—cockblock Brad. We tend to shadow him wherever he cannot be trusted, with at least one of us to leash his baser desires. I once saw him try to assault a girl behind the bar; it was the first time I realized he wasn’t just talking out of his ass; that all the stories he’s told previously were true. I can’t help but hate myself for failing to recognize it until it was too late. How many women, both human and shifter, have been ruined because of him?

  Since then, Carter, Deon and I befriended him, and have been trying to thwart his plans. Usually, we go out and get him so blackout drunk he can’t remember what happened, and then we lie to him about all the amazing girls he banged. My cock stirs at the idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. I’m not a saint, far fucking from it, and I wouldn’t mind letting him know what it feels like to be helpless and at the mercy of someone who disgusts you, while they violate you. I shake my head, clearing the dark thoughts that seem to come more and more these days and convince Brad to buy us all a round of shots. Usually, I don’t drink the hard stuff, but tonight, the demon that lives inside me is calling to me. If I want to keep him at bay, I’ll need something stronger than a beer to calm him. My wolf can sometimes take control of me, like some bastardized version of shifting, and when he does, I am even worse than I am already. There is something wrong with me, and my wolf. I think it might be why I can’t shift.

  Brad is at the bar getting the shots when Carter grabs my arm, forcing me to look at him. “I saw you go dark there, buddy. Don’t go to that place. The last time you went there, we almost lost you.” He’s so good to me; he makes me feel things I don’t want to. Feelings that are forbidden, especially among our pack.

  “Look, we’re going to kidnap Abigail, not because we want to, but because we have to. If the choice is her life or yours, there is no choice,” he says, his eyes glinting. “You know where my loyalties lie.”

  I do, and I wish he would stop it. I don’t deserve him. I grit my teeth. “My father is the biggest monster of them all. How are we going to feel when he breaks her? Wraps a collar around her neck and makes her crawl on the floor next to his feet?” He says nothing, so I continue. “He is cancer that is rooted so deeply into our pack; I don’t even know if it’s possible to cut it all out. But right now, it’s spreading, ruining everything we used to represent. And honestly, now, I don’t even know if we’re worth saving.” There we go, I said it out loud.

  “Are you kidding?” Carter hisses. “You cannot abandon the few good packmates we have. Aren’t they enough? Why aren’t they worth fighting for?” He glares at me, and I sense his disappointment, but I ignore it. I am so tired of faking—the mask I wear is heavy, and the scars on my soul run deep. In hiding and obeying, I am drawing myself closer to my own destruction, or if my wolf has its way, someone else’s.

  “I am my father’s son,” I say, daring him to disagree “The darkness that runs rampant in his veins also runs in mine. Sometimes I lose myself, and I don’t even think I’m pretending anymore. I’m beginning to enjoy the errands he sends me on, and I’m terrified of who I’m becoming. Maybe the real mask is the good guy act I put on. Maybe the real me is the one who craves the pain and blood,” I spit out.

  “Kevin, you can’t,” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “Deon, can you handle Brad tonight? I need to get out of here.” I stand up, abandoning my drink, and head towards the door.

  When the cool autumn air hits my lungs, I take a deep breath. This is my sanctuary. Just being in the open air is a salve to my wounds. I take another breath, clearing my nose of the smell of stale beer, vomit, and piss. Our den bar is shit, just like most of my pack, and they treat it like shit, too. I think of the opulence of the Dama de Noche bar and remember when it was once ours—when the Damas were ours, but the sound of footsteps snap me back to attention. I ready myself and whirl around, pulling my punch at the last moment when I see Carter in front of me with an odd look on his face.

  “Shit, you scared me. What are you doing?” I ask, adrenaline still pumping through my system.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says.

  “I am. I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air,” I say, avoiding the intensity of his eyes. I don’t like what I see in them.

  “Is that all you need?” And there it is; the words I have been waiting for. They hang heavy in the air, thick and full of expectation. I deny them. “It’s all I can have,” I grit out, answering his unspoken question. I shut things down before we go any further down the dangerous path that will only lead to death. I turn to leave, suffocating on the tension surrounding us when I hear him call my name.

  “Kevin,” he says, and then he spins me around to face him, kissing me with a decade’s worth of unspent passion. I soften against him for an instant, committing this moment to memory and pressing my lips more firmly against his. But when he tries to push his tongue into my mouth, the spell is broken.

  “What the fuck man?” I scream, and push him back roughly, “What are you doing?”

  “I … uh ...” His cheeks flush. “I guess I read the situation wrong.” No, you didn’t, I think I to myself. You read it so very right.

  “Yeah, you fucking did. Get away from me.” I push a level of disgust into my voice I don’t feel and glare at him.

  I can see his heart breaking, and I feel the same, but I can’t encourage him.

  “Go back inside and have a drink. Let’s pretend this never happened,” I say roughly, and start backing up.

  I swear I see tears in his eyes, but he swallows hard and spins on his heel, practically running back to the entrance. He wrenches the door open so hard it breaks a hinge, and then he slams it, nearly shattering the glass. My own heart breaks, as I watch him disappear through the door, wanting to run after him. He never glanced back, not once, but I’m glad he didn’t. If he had, I know I would have come clean. I’ve wanted that kiss since I was thirteen years old when he pinned me to the mat as we were sparring.

  That was the first time my father beat me with one of his special whips for letting someone best me, but it had been worth it. Those green eyes were laughing and alight with triumph, his blonde hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead as he gazed down at me. “Pinned you,” he said, his voice a whisper of the deepness it has matured to now. When I started getting hard, I was terrified he would feel it. “Okay fine, you got me,” I’d told him. “Now, get off.” I pushed him away and made up some excuse for leaving early. It was the first time I’d jacked off to his face, but not the last.

  I touch my fingers to my lips and sigh. Then I walk to my truck, albeit awkwardly. My cock is so hard it threatens to split my zipper. There is a major disconnect between my mind and my heart. Fucking hell, I knew he might do this. I’ve practically encouraged him. I just didn’t want it to stop; I looked forward to the hand squeezes, knee pats, and back slaps.
Innocent gestures to most, but forbidden cherished touches to me. Moments that kept the darkness at bay. His longing glances and gentle smiles, when no one else was looking, soothed the beast inside of me—the only thing, besides spilling blood, that has ever worked. I tried to make sure I never directly encouraged, but I never said no either, and now I’m almost certain I’ve lost my best friend.

  When you’re gay, and the alpha’s son, of a pack that prides itself on kidnapping and raping women, you cannot show weakness, especially when you don’t bear the mark of a fated alpha, much to my father’s disappointment. I think my father knows; I think he senses it inside of me that I’m different, and he hates me for it. The beatings became worse as I got older. In other packs, being gay is nothing to be ashamed of. Recently a fox alpha announced his Bonding to a male panther and female fox. My father promptly cut all ties with them, and not just for the cross-breeding. He sent them a wedding gift, though. A pair of brass balls, and told the alpha that when he got his back, we could resume our tenuous friendship. After that, we lost our pact with the panther’s leap as well. That’s my father, negotiator extraordinaire.

  If I wasn’t so afraid of the repercussions, I’d say to hell with it and come out. I don’t care if I die, but my father wouldn’t simply kill me. He’s a master at inflicting pain, so no, I wouldn’t die, but Carter? My father would disembowel him while I watch, and losing Carter, that’s not something I can live through. This is better, I tell myself. It is better to have him hate me and live, than love me and die. I lick my lips, savoring his taste on my tongue, and jump up into my truck. I stretch the mask into place and add my perpetual sneer. It’s time to head home; I have a kidnapping to plan. The most protected and adored pack princess on the west coast is about to become just another Death Claw slave. I don’t have time for feelings, I tell myself, and I don’t have have a heart!