Hunger Moon

by Merryn Dexter

  He came to with the pleasant weight of his mate draped across his body. Holding her close, he buried his nose in her hair, drawing her sweet scent deep into his lungs. Their mingled scents filled the room, blanketed over them in the humid night air. The sheets beneath him were rumpled, damp with sweat and other things. He wanted to nail them to his wall like a damn trophy. As the euphoria faded, the dark realities pressed against the edges of his conscience. He had to come clean to Bel. About everything. He should have done it before, damn him, but he had been too selfish, too weak to resist the lure of her sweet body. Stroking his hands up and down her back he closed his eyes and forced himself to go back to the source of too many nightmares.

  “They came in the middle of the night. Daddy had been working since the previous morning helping a newly mated couple to raise the frame on a new home. Every dominant in our small pack had helped so they were all exhausted. It was the night before Quinn’s fifth birthday and she couldn’t get to sleep. Momma had planned a big party, and Quinn crawled in to bed with me to whisper about everything.” He paused, lost for a moment in the memory of his little sister huddled against his side, enjoying those last moments of innocent peace. “We never knew anything about the world beyond the boundaries of our pack lands around Sebastian.”

  Bel raised her head, folded her arms across his chest, and rested her chin on them. Her blue eyes studied him. “I thought your pack was based in the Brighton Reservation?”

  He glanced up at the ceiling, unable to watch her reaction to his next words. “After that night, it was. Clark Lansing swept into Sebastian with a pack of his strongest dominants. They set fire to the newly erected frame, causing chaos, drawing parents away from their families. My father knew something was wrong. Told me to take Quinn and hide.” He swallowed hard. “I made a mistake. Ran in the wrong direction and they caught us.” The malicious gleam in Clark’s eyes would be forever seared in his memory. “He knew who we were. It was only growing up that I came to understand how he worked. Every move made against a pack was meticulously planned and researched. Including ours. I made it easy for him.”

  Bel gave a soft sound of protest, but he knew the truth of it.

  He shrugged off her sympathetic hand and forced himself to continue. “They’d already killed the alpha. Wiped out his entire family before they set the fire. Dad was second. A strong beta wolf, but with too much heart to be alpha.” His love for his family had undone them all. “Clark threatened to kill us unless my father surrendered the pack to him. Momma went crazy. She shifted and attacked the man holding Quinn, and they shot her.” The bark of the gun, the stink of powder and blood, his sister’s screams. Memory after memory washed over him, dragging him under, bringing the terrified boy of his past to the forefront. The wolf holding Quinn had died before they put one too many bullets in his father. He could see him clearly, hear his voice whispering in his ear as the last breath left him. “You do whatever it takes to survive, son.”

  Wetness rolled down his cheeks, soaking into the pillow behind his head, the way his father’s blood had soaked into the dust that night. Warmth stole over him, a blanket of comfort settling around him, muffling the grief. He blinked away the tears, looked down at the spot over his heart where Bel pressed her small hand into his skin. The warmth came from her, and he understood the beauty of her omega gift. Rolling on his side, he spooned around her body, grounding himself in the feel of his mate in his arms.

  Whatever it takes.

  Chapter Eight

  Bel darted through the trees, grateful for their shade as she tried to run off the worst of the tension squeezing around her heart. Troy had fallen into a deep sleep after his whispered confession, holding her tight enough for it to be uncomfortable. She hadn’t protested, though. If her mate needed something to cling onto to drive the bad memories away, she would endure without complaint. The pain he’d suffered as a child, combined with the survivor’s guilt of his adulthood, had left a deep bruise on his soul. She’d sensed it the moment she’d reached out to ease his distress, had almost buckled under the devastation of it.

  A familiar scent touched her nose, and she raised her muzzle to track the owner. A large, black wolf stepped between two huge oaks, holding his ground until she turned and trotted in his direction. Bel raised her head offering her throat, showing respect and deference to her alpha. Derek pressed his snout into the thick fur at her neck for a moment then withdrew. His golden eyes stared hard at her, his scent a mix of anger and concern.

  Where is Troy? Wolves could speak mind to mind, and she couldn’t help herself. He’d slipped from his bed early that morning, determined to present himself to Derek and explain everything. He’d refused to let her go with him. He would not let any affection the alpha held for Bel temper his response to what Troy had to say to him. She appreciated him not putting her in the position of being caught between mate and alpha, but the morning had passed in slow, creeping increments until she’d had to shift and go for a run.

  He is with Rand. Troy is making a call to his father, after which we will hold another meeting to discuss what happens next.

  The alpha wolf stepped forward, crowding into her space. I cannot give my support to this mating, Bel.

  Do not force me to choose, Derek. It would break my heart to leave Moonlight, to leave our pack that I love so dearly.

  The black wolf snarled, a deep warning rumble. You are still my wolf, Bel. I will not let you go without a fight.

  Her heart sank. It appeared the alpha had rejected Troy’s plea for sanctuary for himself and Quinn within the Moonlight pack. Then don’t fight. Is there no way we can work together to defeat the threat from Brighton? Even as she sent the thought, her heart twisted at the selfishness of her request. They had faced so many threats in the past, had fled to Florida to escape the predations of another cruel and power-hungry alpha. She couldn’t ask Derek to put the pack at risk again. I’m sorry. Just let us go and Troy and I will run far from here. We’ll leave the area, the state if we have to.

  It’s too late for that.

  Realization struck, making her stagger as though from a physical blow. It didn’t matter whether Troy and she left, Clark would not give up his designs on conquering her friends and family. A soft whine escaped her throat and Derek closed in, resting his proud head over her back, tucking her close against his strong, reassuring body.

  Hush now, Bel. Let us see what Lansing has to say in response to Troy’s suggestion of an accord between our packs. I will not bow my head to him, nor allow him to assume alpha status over any of my wolves, but I will work with the devil himself if it keeps my pack safe.

  Bel leaned closer into Derek’s side. She had been sheltered her whole life under his protection, and he gave her the support she needed again. Regardless of the imminent threat to their safety, he didn’t rush her, standing still and sure while she gathered herself together. A slight shift in her weight was all the signal he needed to lift his head.

  Trust me, Bel, and I will trust you. I cannot believe your mate would betray us, so together we must find a way to keep everyone safe.

  Wishing she could find an ounce of the confidence her alpha had, she nodded her head. Derek gripped her muzzle gently between his jaws then released her, turning to lope through the trees. He didn’t head back to town but farther into the woods.

  Catching the scent of a rabbit, Bel yipped and darted forward, following the trail. First, they would hunt as wolves, then they would test their human wits and hope they could come out on top and not end up prey themselves.

  ***

  The brightly patterned headscarf protected her hair from the worst ravages of the wind whipping through the convertible. She glanced sideways at Troy, seeking reassurance. Every mile of asphalt that passed beneath the wheels increased the butterflies in her stomach. Keeping his eyes fixed on the highway, Troy reached for her hand, kissed the back of it, and placed it on his thigh. The heat of his skin soaked through the linen pants he wore, and the f
amiliar feel of the sculpted muscle beneath her fingers helped to ground her. The trip to Brighton would only take a couple of hours. They should be back safe in Moonlight before nightfall.

  Clark’s insistence on meeting her had thrown her pack into uproar. Troy had done his best to deflect him, but a request to meet his future daughter-in-law before any official mating ceremony took place was, on the surface, perfectly reasonable. To refuse to go would make him suspicious, and, given some of the stories Troy had shared with her, paranoia was a default state of mind for the Brighton alpha. Mating ceremonies had fallen out of fashion over the years, but they hoped to convince Clark their desire to hold one was an act of deference to his position and a demonstration from Moonlight that they wished to cooperate with their larger neighbor. Their entire plan hinged on the next few hours, and Bel knew she needed to be on top of everything if they were going to be successful. There were so many bluffs and double-bluffs in play, it would be easy to trip up on one of their many lies. Wolves were good at sniffing out duplicity, and, although Troy possessed admirable diplomatic skills, Derek was worried he was too emotionally invested to properly school himself. After some experimentation, Bel believed they’d found a work-around, but time would tell.

  Signs of civilization thinned once they turned onto the county road, and the landscape grew wilder on either side of the two-lane road. “We’ll be another quarter hour or so. Do you need to stop before we get there?”

  She appreciated his concern, but Bel had put together a meditation specifically for today. It had taken Knox a couple of days to put Troy’s car back together, complete with a tracker. Her hand drifted to the blue sandstone pendant nestled at the base of her throat. Troy had a pair of matching cufflinks securing the wrists of his crisp, white shirt. Mating gifts from Derek that just happened to contain personal tracking devices. Her pack mates were well versed in surveillance and security techniques. Derek and Rand ran a successful security agency, The Defenders, and Rand in particular was always keen to play with new toys and gadgets. Bel took a deep breath and closed her eyes, turning her focus inward. Knowing her pack monitored their every step gave her the comfort she needed to push her fears aside.

  Turning first to her wolf, she communed with the wild spirit of her other half. She needed complete control over every aspect of herself if their plan was to succeed. Her wolf had always been placid, content to serve the dominants, knowing they respected and valued her for having a different type of strength to theirs. Troy had stirred something deeper, something neither wolf nor woman had suspected lurked within them. A fortitude to rival any dominant. The threat of an alpha like Clark abusing their gift had never occurred to them. Even when the pack had faced other enemies, none possessed the twisted scope of the Brighton alpha. Bel had never considered herself a weapon before, but she did now. She could control it, forge and wield her ability to her own design. Or surrender and be both abused and abuser. Never, growled her wolf, and Bel curled her lip in agreement.

  Reaching out, she brushed her awareness against Troy’s, a gentle breath, nothing more. She waited. A silken touch stirred the deep well of desire she held for him, and her eyes flew open as she gasped for breath. Need rippled across the surface, sending her nipples into stiff peaks beneath the white Broderie Anglaise dress she had paired with navy wedge sandals. The high neckline and long sleeves conveyed a modesty she didn’t feel around her mate. It looked fresh, respectable without being prissy, and she felt comfortable and relaxed in it. Her outfit contrasted and complemented the dark linen suit Troy wore, and the white cotton glowed against her tanned skin. She’d lacquered her nails with a sheer polish containing tiny holographic bits of glitter which sparkled in the light. A bit of glitz, her personal armor.

  She dug her fingers into Troy’s thigh, giving him the edge of her nails, knowing it would drive him a little crazy. Turnabout was fair play, and she giggled when a low growl rumbled in his chest.

  “Behave, ma belle. It would be most inappropriate to show up to my father’s dinner table reeking of sex and sweat.” The promise in his tone melted her further, and she pressed her thighs together to stop the tingle of awareness. “Fuck,” he groaned. Leather squeaked in protest, and his knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel. “Save it for the journey home, baby.”

  She closed her eyes and used her ability to smother the lust threatening to overwhelm them both. Adding subtle layers, she constructed a mental bridge between them. Building a connection she could use to control their outwardly projected emotions was one of the things they experimented with over the past couple of days. They could lie with impunity and not even Derek had been able to sense it. They had no guarantee it would hold together in a stressful environment, but she would give it her best shot. The surface beneath the wheels changed again, causing the car to bounce around. Concentration broken, she opened her eyes. Thick trees lined the narrow single-track lane, blocking her view of her surroundings. The avenue of trees hung low and stretched long enough to give her the first faint stirrings of claustrophobia. Anything could be within feet of their vehicle and they’d never know it. Just as her heart began to flutter, the vista expanded before her and her mouth dropped open in shock.

  A huge buttermilk-colored mansion sprawled at the end of a sweeping circular driveway. An ostentatious fountain, covered in every manner of mythological sea beast, spewed water in the center of the drive. Pillars, turrets, and balconies littered the front of the mansion in a spectacular collision of architectural styles. Gaudy was the politest word she could think of to describe it. The amount of money to construct and maintain such a building boggled her mind.

  “You didn’t tell me your pack lived together,” she murmured as Troy parked at the bottom of an imposing sweep of stairs leading to the front door. Some packs stuck to the old ways and lived in large or interconnected dwellings, mimicking the dens of their shifter natures. Others, like Moonlight, chose to live co-located, finding an acceptable compromise between security and personal privacy.

  Troy pressed a button to activate the automatic roof on the convertible and shoved open his door. “They don’t. This is my father’s house, not a pack house,” he said over his shoulder as he climbed out. Rounding the hood toward her side of the car, he tossed his keys to a young man who came scurrying around the side of the house.

  What a terrible waste of money. Fixing a smile on her face, Bel accepted the hand Troy held out to her and stepped out of the car. He leaned across to brush his lips over her cheek.

  “You look like a fifties movie star,” he murmured.

  She lifted her hand to his cheek, holding his face against hers for a moment.

  “There you are.” An imposing voice laced with an alpha’s command pulled her entire attention away from her mate. Clark Lansing stood at the top of the stairs. He looked outwardly relaxed with his hands tucked into the side pockets of his sharply tailored black pants. The collar of his dove-gray silk shirt lay open, displaying a red cravat folded and pinned with a huge diamond. His gray hair was brushed back away from his face in two sweeping wings. Nothing friendly shone in his black eyes.

  “Father.” Troy placed his hand at the base of Bel’s back, and she allowed him to propel her up the steps. “This is Belinda Thomas.”

  Refusing to acknowledge the sour smell emanating from the alpha, Bel turned up her smile a notch and offered her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lansing.” Simple statements from each of them, as agreed. Nothing inflammatory, nothing that could be interpreted by Clark as either challenge or insult. His hot palm engulfed hers. She had never known her skills to register on an empathetic scale, but malevolence and madness coated her skin like a greasy film. Her wolf shuddered once then pressed forward, comforting Bel as the alpha held her hand and her gaze for an interminable stretch.

  “Come now, Father, don’t monopolize my soon-to-be sister.” A warm, throaty voice shattered the tension.

  Bel gritted her teeth at the too-hard squeeze C
lark pressed around her fingers before he finally deigned to release her. A cloud of soft-brown hair, warmth, and the pleasing scent of apple blossom enveloped her. It was no effort to return the affectionate embrace from Quinn.

  Stepping back, Bel smiled into the woman’s green eyes, an almost perfect match to Troy’s. “I am so very pleased to meet you. Troy has told me all about you.”

  “Oh, really?” Quinn threw her head back and laughed, the bright sound lifting Bel’s spirits further.

  Damn, she’s good.

  “Nothing too awful, I hope?”

  Bel laughed at the teasing question. “He was perfectly lovely about you,” she said, sending Quinn off into another round of laughter. She hooked her arm around Bel’s shoulder, guiding her artfully between the two men and into the house. Another man stood sentinel inside the opulent marbled entrance. Bel blinked, taken aback at the sheer size of him. He could challenge her pack-mate Kirk in both height and breadth, something she’d never thought to see.

  “This is Nikolas.” Quinn waved a too casual hand in his direction, her dismissal of him completely at odds with the tangle of emotions spilling from her.

  Glancing at her him over her shoulder, Bel noted Nikolas had eyes for no one but the curvy brunette next to her. Interesting.

  “Come upstairs to the sitting room, I’ve ordered some lemonade. You must be parched after your journey.”

  Bel reached for Troy, not sure whether she should allow Quinn to separate them. His warm voice echoed in her head. Go, Bel. It’s best if I talk to my father alone first.

  He scares me. She couldn’t stop the admission.

  He scares me too, baby. It’s better to let him have his say in private. At least you and Quinn will be out of harm’s way.