Hunger Moon

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Hunger Moon Page 5

by Merryn Dexter


  “What about Bel?” The words were past Troy’s lips before he could stop them.

  “You can’t stuff that genie back in the bottle, no matter how much you might want to. Bel’s welfare is all I care about. First, last, always. If she wants to be with you, then you’d better man-the-fuck up and do what’s right by her. I don’t give a shit who your daddy is or how big your pack is; whatever happens between the two of you, she stays in Moonlight.”

  Craning his neck, he watched Derek lope across the open space to the cottage next door and disappear through the back door after a perfunctory knock. It should be him. He should have been the one knocking on her door, checking to make sure she was okay after last night. Shaking his head in self-disgust, he collected the empty drink cans and tossed them in the kitchen trash. The spilled soda had dried in a sticky mess on his legs. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. Hiding away in the cottage might be a fine idea, but he had work to do. Though his personal life was FUBAR, it would have to wait.

  His hair still lay damp against his neck when another knock at his door came. The brief flash of hope it might be Bel faded when he tested the air, not catching her delicate sweetbriar scent. The alpha’s second, Rand, stood on the doorstep, twirling one arm of a pair of sunglasses. He took one look at Troy’s face and grinned.

  “Sorry, man. I’m your date for the day.” Clapping him on the shoulder, the second donned his shades and steered Troy out the door. “Derek wants me to show you around the place, explain a bit about how things work around here, and, in return, you can tell me a bit more about the deal you hope to broker between our packs.”

  Rand’s words surprised him. Hadn’t Derek called bullshit on his mission not ten minutes before? Whatever, he wouldn’t look this gift wolf in the mouth. He would need to report back to Clark in the next few days, and his father would demand some intelligence about the local setup. With any luck, he might persuade the old man their latest target was too small a prize to bother about. Another lie. Jesus, he needed to get his head straight and start untangling the mess in his brain before he fucked up and got someone killed.

  They spent the next couple of hours strolling around the town, stopping in at the various local businesses and homes. Rand knew everyone, knew exactly what was going on in their lives and had a word of advice, admiration, or consolation for each situation. Yes, this pack was significantly smaller than Brighton, but his father was so far removed from the people under his control he probably didn’t know half their names. Troy knew most everybody in the pack; it was his job to connect with them all, even the outlying subpacks who bowed to Clark, but he didn’t know their individual stories. The only person he could think of who probably did know would be Dutton. With his network of contacts, nothing happened within the confines of Brighton without his brother hearing about it. He doubted Dutton shared even a fraction of the information he gathered with Clark. In his own way, he managed the alpha better than any of them.

  “So what does your father do?” Rand asked, as they exited the diner clutching a pair of iced coffees.

  “Do? He runs the pack; he’s the alpha.”

  “Yeah, yeah, he’s the alpha, but what does he do for work? What business is he in? Derek and I run a security consultancy.” Rand squatted down on the diner steps, taking advantage of the shade from the bright awning shielding the front window from the worst of the midday sun.

  “Running the pack is a full-time job.” Troy sank down beside Rand and sipped his drink thoughtfully. “Well, Dut, Nik, and I take care of most of the day-to-day stuff.” What exactly did his father contribute to the pack? He brought a sense of control, garnered by fear rather than respect. He relied on those beneath to support him financially, taking a tithe from every family in return for his supposed protection. The sheer size of Brighton deterred other shifters from attacking them, but how much threat had they actually faced before Clark began his own ambitious expansion plans? He didn’t seek to unite the wolves in the region for security; he sought power and wealth.

  How many packs like Moonlight would have lived in peace and relative obscurity if Clark hadn’t actively sought them out? He hadn’t met a single person today who longed for anything other than peace and prosperity for themselves and their friends and families. A battered truck pulled up in front of the diner, disgorging a pair of sweating, smiling human males. Both wore weapons strapped to their belts and moved with the kind of strength and dominance few humans could. Troy shot to his feet in an instant, surprised when Rand continued to lounge upon the steps.

  “Hey guys, what’s up?” Rand said, offering his hand to each in turn.

  “Hey, Rand,” said the smiling dark-haired man who’d exited the driver’s seat. “We’ve got a new case. Could use your input if you have time?”

  The blond beside him stopped at the base of the steps directly below Troy and fixed his hard eyes upon him. “Is this the guy Alexa told me about?”

  Rand uncoiled his tall frame, placing a seemingly friendly hand on Troy’s arm as he stood. The touch didn’t fool him for a second. It was a warning to Troy to relax and a message to the other two that, for the moment at least, Troy was under his protection. “Yeah, this is Troy Lansing, a visitor from another pack in the state. Troy, this is Jesse Farrell and Charlie Aquino. They work at the local sheriff’s office and are mated members of the pack.”

  Troy couldn’t mask his surprise. Moonlight permitted humans to join their pack? His father had even less time for humans than he did for submissives. If a member of the Brighton pack showed interest in a human, they were threatened, ostracized, and often killed. The humans never survived. Clark believed wholeheartedly in the superiority of shifters as a race, and nothing could be allowed to water down their bloodlines. Troy thought he was a bigoted fool, but he’d made sure to steer clear of human females. He had enough blood on his hands.

  The cops gave him a thorough looking over. Neither offered their hand to shake. The blond, Jesse, turned to Rand. “Alexa should have that research you wanted ready by this evening. Why don’t you swing by and we can have dinner together? She and Hannah can run through everything they’ve gathered, and we can discuss this new case at the same time.”

  “Sounds good.” Rand squeezed Troy’s shoulder, steering him down the steps and past the two men. “We’re heading over to see Knox for a bit. I’ll catch you later.” He pointed Troy in the direction of the garage on the opposite side of the road, raising the hand clutching his cup to acknowledge the good-byes of the humans.

  “You don’t have a lot of humans in your pack, I take it?” Rand asked. The up-and-over shutter of the garage stood open, but they stopped outside the workshop area.

  “Try none. My father is something of a traditionalist,” Troy muttered, peering into the shadowy interior. Bits and pieces of a car lay strewn across the concrete floor. He admired the crisp cream leather of a pair of seats, very similar to the ones he’d had custom-made for his car…son of a bitch! The metal jigsaw scattered in front of him was the remains of his pride and joy. His baby.

  “Hey, Rand.” The big guy who’d taken possession of his car keys loomed out of the shadows. His buzz-cut and frown gave him a menacing air, and Troy shifted his balance. Rolling onto the balls of his feet in a preparatory move, just in case. “Relax, man,” Knox drawled. “I’m pretty sure I can put everything back in the right place.” He wiped his hands on a greasy rag in his back pocket then propped them on his hips. The pose sent his biceps bulging, threatening to rip the seams of the dark T-shirt he wore.

  Staring past Troy, he spoke to Rand. “I didn’t find anything other than a memory stick holding a dubious choice in driving tunes.”

  Troy bristled. There was nothing wrong with Enya. A man needed something to relax him when he covered the amount of miles he did. Casting a look toward Knox, he waited for the mechanic to give him a nod before he entered the relative cool of the workshop. Crouching down, he checked the bodywork sections nearest to him. They were prist
ine, not a mark on them, and he sighed in relief. It might be a one-horse town, but Knox knew his way around cars and had treated the vehicle with respect.

  Making a show of inspecting the various chunks of his car, he turned his thoughts inward. The mechanic needed adding to his list of potential threats. The pair of cops, too. Moonlight had more than its fair share of large, dominant males for such a small pack. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the easy way the two wolves interacted with each other. They had the same sense of connection he’d noticed everywhere today. Another weapon in their favor. Such closeness would help them work as a pack, a cohesive unit. Clark encouraged Brighton pack members to spy on each other, to report any hint of betrayal or disloyalty. Neighbors closed their doors to one another, friendships were sacrificed in the name of survival. You only had to look at his own family. The four children of the alpha stuck to their own assigned roles and presented a careful façade to each other. Without the bond he shared with his younger sister, there would be no one to mourn him if he fell. No one who would step in to defend him unless they saw an advantage to themselves. Intrigue and betrayal versus loyalty and unity. If he couldn’t persuade his father to ignore Moonlight, maybe he could play down the threat enough that only a small force was sent against them. It would give Derek and the others a chance to survive, a chance to escape before the main force of the Brighton pack swept down upon them. It might be their only hope.

  Chapter Six

  Forty-eight hours. She’d managed to stay away from Troy for the sum total of two days, and here she was begging for scraps at his door. Shaking her head in disgust at herself, Bel turned away, intent on returning to the sanctuary of her bungalow. Yesterday had passed in a fitful blur, the aftermath of her flame out. Derek had stopped by long enough to check she was okay but hadn’t talked about anything other than her direct health. Having been assured she was fine, he’d left her alone.

  “Good evening, ma belle.” The husky sound of Troy’s voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  Damn it.

  Unable to find any sensible recourse, she turned to face him. “Good evening, Troy. I made too much supper and thought you might like some.” She thrust the casserole dish in her hands at him, trying not to squirm at the untruth. The food had been dropped off earlier by Silver, Kirk’s mate. The sweet human had assuaged any lingering fear she might have had about how her projecting had affected the rest of the pack. Giggling over the look of shock on Kirk’s face when she’d swung for him, Silver also admitted to pouncing on him the moment he’d returned. The woman had shared way more information than Bel had needed to know, although the idea of being tied to a set of wall bars intrigued her. Kirk’s makeshift gym set up in their cabin afforded itself to a range of kinky activities, according to Silver.

  Bel could still feel the damp cotton of her dress binding her hands together, restraining her in a way she’d never experienced before. A hot flush rose on her cheeks, and she lifted her hands to try and cover her face, only to realize she still clutched the casserole dish.

  “I’ve already eaten, thank you.” Troy lounged against the doorframe, hands thrust into the pockets of his cargo shorts. He looked cool and collected, and she felt even more of a fool.

  “Oh well, never mind. I can put it in the refrigerator for tomorrow.” She stepped back, freezing when his hand shot out to grasp her wrist. He didn’t speak, just held her there until she wanted to scream with frustration. Forcing her emotions aside, she concentrated on him, using the point where he held her as a focus. Anger, desire, frustration. He mirrored her own feelings so closely she wondered if she was projecting again. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered, closing her eyes briefly against the burn of unshed tears.

  “It’s not about what I want, ma belle. It’s about what I can have.” His thumb slid along the underside of her wrist, massaging her pulse point in slow circles.

  You can have me. She held the words in tight, fear of rejection keeping her mute. Fear of something more, too. She hadn’t been able to think about anything other than him all day. From the moment she awoke in a tangle of sweaty sheets, heart pounding at the erotic dreams her mind had spun, he’d filled her head. One by one, she’d watched her pack mates find their other halves, teased them even over their instant connection with their mates. Hadn’t expected it for herself, hadn’t looked for it at all. Content to serve and soothe her pack, she didn’t want to give up her place among them. And that’s what mating with this man would mean, even if he wanted the same thing and felt the same electric attraction she did. Troy was the son of an alpha, an heir to his pack, and his place would naturally be at his father’s side. How could she expect him to give it all up to settle in a backwater town like Moonlight? So why was she here? Why was she risking everything she held dear to be with a man she didn’t know, worse still, didn’t trust? He was an enigma. A man at war with himself.

  “Let me go, Troy.” Tugging against his hold, she didn’t care when the dish tipped in her hands, sending gravy slopping over the edge onto her fingers.

  “I can’t.” He sighed, a sound full of regret, full of longing.

  “Then take me.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, staring deep into the warm, green depths. Pushing her fears aside, she drew on the quiet strength of her wolf, called it forth until she knew he would see the other half peeking out. Take me, take us. We are mates. Look in your heart and you will see it, too.

  He made a rough sound deep in his throat, turning her body to liquid in an instant. Snatching the dish from her hands, he yanked her forward so she stumbled across the threshold into the solid heat of his chest. He dumped the casserole on a side table to free his hands. Cupping her face, he dragged her up on tiptoe to meet his mouth.

  The moment their lips touched, she realized this was the first time he’d kissed her. His tongue thrust deep and he ravished her mouth, probing and tasting her in a hot brand of ownership. She raised her hands, clinging to his shoulders as her knees buckled in the face of his onslaught. He twisted her head, putting her at the exact angle he wanted, diving into her over and over again. She needed to breathe, the tightness in her chest warned her, but she didn’t care. Curling her tongue over, around, under his, she met him thrust for thrust until the edge of her vision started to fade into gray haze. Yanking away at last, he dragged air into his lungs on a deep, whooping gasp. Bel collapsed against him, chest heaving like a bellows. The rampant lust between them had ignited the moment he touched her, spiraling out of her control. Counting under her breath, she fought to slow her racing heart, resisting when he would have pulled her up for another kiss. His arms curled around her back, his touch shifting from demanding to comforting and she scrambled to rein in her emotions.

  “This is a mistake,” he muttered into her hair. She nodded against his shoulder, knowing he was right. His hands slid lower, tracing the curves of her ass, cupping and kneading the plump flesh.

  The hard length of his erection poked her belly, and she pressed into it. “I can’t think when I’m around you. My wolf is driving me crazy.”

  “God, mine, too,” he groaned. “I feel unhinged, this isn’t me.” His hands stilled their incessant stroking. “Did you do something to me?” He stepped back, the distance between them giving her room to breathe. A suspicious frown marred his normally open countenance. “Tell me what it means to be an omega, Bel.”

  Her wolf rubbed against the inside of her skin, urging her to pounce, to throw herself into her mate’s arms and drive the doubts and fears from him. Make him claim us. Reaching for the tangle of emotions curled like a fist beneath her breastbone, Bel focused on the burning lust overwhelming her common sense. She batted aside her wolf when it snapped and snarled, dialing back the riot of feelings until she felt calm enough to speak. “Being omega might mean different things to others, I don’t know, I’ve never met another shifter like me. I can sense strong emotions in others. If I focus hard enough, I can also boost or dampen them. So if a member of the pack is
grieving or stressed out, I can offer them some respite.” She paused. It was always hard to explain something so instinctive. “I don’t steal their feelings or make them go away, but I can turn down the volume a bit, if that makes sense.”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face, massaging the deep frown lines between his brows. She longed to reach out, to help him relax, but she had learned in the past to temper her need to help everyone. She couldn’t fix everything, shouldn’t try to fix everything. Her pack trusted her to guard their secrets and let them make their own choice to seek her out. The only time she acted against a person’s will was at the strict instruction of her alpha, and then only if doing so would prevent violence or irreparable harm. An alpha with less nobility though? She shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “So what I feel when I’m around you?”

  “I can’t manipulate you into feeling an emotion that isn’t there.” She sighed. He deserved to know the full truth. “But I can amplify your feelings. I’m drawn to you, Troy. More so than to any other man I have met. My wolf….” She shook her head, not ready to acknowledge out loud the possibility they might be mates.

  He turned away, paced the length of the open-plan room through the kitchen area, and pulled open the back door. The warm, humid atmosphere in the room lifted, stirred by a faint breeze. Keeping his back to her, he rested his head against the frame, staring out into the dusky half-light. “Are you doing it now, amplifying what I’m feeling?”

  Her immediate reaction was to deny it, but she had promised herself she would be honest with him. She checked her mental shields and found them intact. Checked her wolf, who turned away from her, making its feelings plain. “I am not interfering with you in any way.”

 

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