Moon Bound
The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles, Book 3
Tori Centanni
Contents
Moon Bound (Book 3)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Tori Centanni
Moon Bound (Book 3)
I’m Charlotte Lear, and as much as I’d love to believe being a werewolf invites trouble, I’m starting to wonder if it’s just me. I may have accidentally on purpose borrowed a book from a faerie without her permission. Now I’m stuck doing her a favor to pay back my debt: trying to track down a rare, impossible-to-find book before time runs out and the faerie gets to claim my life as her own.
While I struggle to hunt down the book in question, my roommate and fellow werewolf Raff is busy trying to keep our wolf pack from imploding. With the full moon approaching and everything in chaos, can I appease the angry faerie and be there to support Raff as he vies for the position of pack Alpha, or will I be so indebted to a faerie that I never get to do anything but favors for her again?
Moon Bound is Book 3 of The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles, a humorous urban fantasy series with elements of suspense and romance.
Chapter 1
I ran around the corner, skidding to a stop. My heart pounded, and I strained to hear over the blood rushing in my head. My eyes darted back and forth, searching.
My neighbor’s cat was nowhere to be seen. I’d just seen her dart this way, but she’d vanished. That little fuzzball was fast.
The cat had been missing since yesterday. This evening my panicked neighbor, a young woman around my age who dressed in what I could only describe as “hippy goth” clothes had gone door to door with the flyer featuring the calico’s photo. I’d promised to keep an eye out and sat back down to finish my marathon of Cake Disasters.
But an hour later, I’d grown restless. Raff wasn’t home. I was bored. And I figured, why not put my werewolf powers to use and hunt down a missing cat? After all, I could smell and hear better than most humans, and my inner wolf would love to track down a small animal, even if only to return her safely to her owner.
It taken me all of twenty minutes to find the cat hiding in the bushes outside her own house. But I hadn’t counted on the fact that the cat would be able to sense my inner wolf and immediately see me as a threat. The moment I’d gotten close, she’d hissed and bolted, darting across the street. I’d given chase. Which was why, an hour later, I was a sweaty mess, and the cat was still at large.
A rustle in the foliage to my left caught my attention. I crept closer. A squirrel popped out of the brush and ran up the trunk of a nearby tree. I deflated. Not the cat.
I sniffed the air until I caught wind of the faux-floral clay litter smell that clung to the cat’s fur. It wafted on the air, coming from my right. I inched forward until I heard a tiny heartbeat, pounding rapid fire in fear. I dropped to a crouch.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” I said, holding my hand out. She crept forward, pink nose wrinkling as she smelled me. She hissed, and her ears shot back as she again sensed that I wasn’t human.
Guess I could kiss any future career as a pet detective goodbye.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said to her in a soothing voice. “I just want to take you home.”
She growled, her tailing poofing up like a pipe cleaner. I could hear her heart pounding. She was cornered against the back of the porch. I reached for her and she darted to the side, trying to run past me. I shifted, leaning sideways, and caught her in my hands like a football. She wriggled, trying to break free of my grip.
“Just relax,” I told her, which of course did zero good.
The cat hissed as I stood, lifting her from the ground. She clawed at my arms, but her claws had been trimmed recently, and they didn’t break the skin. I walked her over to my neighbor’s house, struggling to keep my hold on her while I rang the bell. She tried to climb up my chest and onto my shoulder. As soon as the door opened, she broke free and darted inside.
“Kira!” my neighbor squealed, scooping the cat up. The cat allowed my neighbor to hug her for a minute before jumping down and disappearing deeper into the house. “Where did you find her?”
“She was just outside running around,” I said.
Not untrue, though she hadn’t been easy to spot. But I couldn’t exactly tell this woman I’d used werewolf senses to track the cat.
“Thank you so much. It means the world to me! I was scared I’d never see her again.”
“No problem,” I said.
I turned to go.
“She doesn’t really like anyone,” my neighbor called. “You must be a real cat person.”
I smiled tightly. If she knew that once a month I turned into a giant hairy wolf, she wouldn’t say that. I headed back home.
Raff was in the living room drinking a sports drink and scrolling through his phone. He wore black athletic pants and a navy t-shirt that featured a cartoon dog looking up on the moon. He’d recently gotten a haircut and bleached out the faded greenish-blue streaks, leaving his hair shorter and blonder. Unfortunately, it didn’t do anything to dull his attractiveness, nor did his new, even more intense work out regime. His shirt had sweat spots, and his hair was slightly damp.
“Hey, Charlie, where were you?” he asked, but the question was mild, curious. No doubt he’d expected to find me on the sofa like he’d left me.
“I tracked down the neighbor’s lost cat,” I said, tucking my freshly dyed black hair behind my ear. “Either cats don’t like me, or they don’t like werewolves.”
“Werewolves,” Raff said, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. His blue eyes landed on me and butterflies took flight in my middle. “You tracked the cat? With your powers?”
I shrugged. “Had nothing better to do.”
I really should not have admitted that, though it was obviously true. It was a boring old Tuesday night. I’d worked a short shift at the yogurt shop this morning to cover for Carrie, who was taking my shift during the upcoming full moon. But I’d gotten home at four o’clock and had zero plans. Michael was busy with some unspecified thing his boyfriend, a vampire, was dragging him to. Raff was determined to spend all of his free time working out, like he wasn’t buff enough already. And right then, I didn’t have a lot of other friends.
“That’s fantastic! What did you do? Tell me everything.”
Raff’s expression was completely sincere. He really wanted to know. So, I recounted how I’d hunted down the poor cat, scared her away from her house, and managed to snatch her and bring her home.
“I’m so proud of you, Charlie.” He grinned at me. “You’re using your werewolf powers for good.”
Warm goo oozed inside of me. I wasn’t used to feeling pride about being a werewolf. In fact, usually it was the opposite. I hadn’t even considered my wolfish qualities (improved senses of hearing and smell, mostly) to be “powers” for the first few years I was a werewolf. I mean, how often is being able to smell better really that useful?
“I’m trying,” I said, and went into the kitchen before my cheeks could turn any shade of red.
I opened the fridge and then, see
ing nothing but containers of brown rice, chicken, and broccoli, all pre-portioned into single servings, closed it again.
Raff appeared in the doorway. “We could order a pizza.”
I grinned. “I thought you were sticking to boiled chicken and eggs.”
Raff had been on a high-protein, build-all-the-muscles diet in addition to his rigorous exercise regime. He wanted to be as powerful and strong as possible when he faced off against Levi, the Alpha of the Portland Pack, who’d challenged our Alpha a few weeks ago. She was willing to concede her position, but Levi was determined to duke it out the old fashioned way, and now Raff was determined to be the person he duked it out against, by becoming our Alpha himself.
“I can have a few slices.”
He flexed, curling his arm to show off his muscles. I swallowed, my mouth going dry. He’d always been pretty ripped, but he’d definitely bulked up in the last few weeks. I wasn’t usually one for muscles, but on Raff it was really hot.
He winked. “What do you say? Half pepperoni, half veggie special?”
I nodded, and Raff pulled out his phone to send in the order via their mobile site. I went to the living room and opened my own laptop, scrolling through social media briefly. Michael hadn’t posted anything all day. I shot him a text asking how his party was going. He didn’t reply.
I was still staring at the screen, hoping he’d answer, when Raff returned to the living room.
“Pizza’s on its way,” he announced, plopping down in the easy chair.
“Thanks,” I said, turning off my phone with a sigh.
I could feel Raff watching me and tried to shake off the feelings of jealousy and annoyance at Michael’s silence. He was at a fancy vampire party tonight, being thrown by one of Seattle’s most famous vampires. There’d been a lot of buzz about this party on the local vampire message board, which was full of mortal vampire fans rather than vampires themselves, but these were mortals who knew vampires existed, not just people who liked horror movies. When I’d asked Michael if he was going to the big fancy vampire party, he’d mumbled something about it being mandatory and then changed the subject.
Three years ago—heck, three months ago—I’d have done anything to get in the door of such an event. Now I was less inclined to put myself in the middle of a room full of vampires and their friends, but part of me wished I could be there. I’d spent so much time researching and reading about vampires that it felt unfair Michael got to go to this party where I’d probably be able to name all the vampires on sight, and I wasn’t able to. Which maybe was just as well since, as a werewolf, I wasn’t able to become a vampire ever, and I would just feel out of place.
“If you’re hoping to hear from Michael, they probably took his phone,” Raff said, as if reading my thoughts.
He had an uncanny knack for telling what I was thinking, and I may have mentioned the party a few times earlier that day.
Okay, more than a few.
“What?” I asked.
“At big supernatural parties, phones are usually taken at the door to avoid having photos or videos pop up on the internet later. Or so I’ve heard.” Raff shrugged.
“I guess that makes sense,” I agreed.
It didn’t make me feel any better about not having so much as a text message about the biggest vampire party of the decade.
There were a lot of unspoken rules in the supernatural world. Even as werewolves on the fringe of that world, there were a lot of rules about what was okay to post or say in public and what should be kept to yourself. Since the world at large didn’t believe in vampires, werewolves, shifters, witches, or most things that went bump in the night, anyone who did post publicly about them was usually assumed to be making stuff up or exaggerating. Photos and videos were quickly debunked as fakes or tricks of the light. But I could understand vampires wanting to minimize such posts anyhow, for their privacy if nothing else.
The doorbell rang. Raff and I exchanged curious looks. It had been less than ten minutes, far too soon for it to be the pizza. Raff sniffed the air and I did the same.
I smelled crisp, cool winter air. The hair on my arms stood on end. Raff stepped toward the door. I blocked his path. He gave me a funny look. I opened the door myself.
On the doorstep stood Ellianne, a powerful winter faerie. She wore a brilliant white coat embroidered with silver thread and lined with what I hoped was faux white fur. Her white hair cascaded around her heart-shaped face.
I felt my heart stop at the sight of her, only to restart and go berserk in my chest. Ellianne had never come to see me before, but I owed her a favor. That was the only reason I could think of why she’d deign to make the trip to my house.
“Ellianne,” I said, in the most pleasant tone I could muster. “What a surprise!”
“Charlotte Lear,” she said, using my whole name. It sent a shiver down my spine.
“Let’s go talk outside,” I said, grabbing my coat and turning to Raff, who was staring openly at the faerie, his jaw slightly drooped. He’d met her before, but that didn’t make it any less shocking to see her on our front porch. “She probably wants to discuss books. Boring stuff. Be right back.” I stepped outside and closed the door before Raff could argue.
Ellianne tilted her head in a motion that looked almost mechanical. “I am not here to discuss books.”
“I figured,” I muttered, pushing past her and heading down the stairs, out toward the street. Werewolves have great hearing, and I didn’t want Raff overhearing this conversation.
I walked a whole block before I stopped and turned. Ellianne had glided silently behind me and now stood mere feet away.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“This is not very hospitable,” Ellianne said curtly. “And I do not expect much from humans cursed with wolf magic.”
I ignored the insult, because I was already skating on thin ice, and though Ellianne was usually reasonable, she was also dangerous. All of the fae were.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to keep our business private.”
Ellianne raised an eyebrow. “You did not tell your boyfriend of your debt to me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, and felt a weird pang of regret.
But I couldn’t date Raff. He was hot, sure, but he was also about to fight for the right to be a pack Alpha, and I was barely okay with even being a werewolf.
“But I don’t want him to know,” I added.
Mostly, I didn’t want him to know how badly I’d messed up that I owed the faerie a favor in the first place.
“Fair enough,” she said sharply. “Charlotte Lear, I have come to collect my favor.”
I swallowed. My throat dried up, turning rough and scratchy. My skin itched. I wanted to turn tail and run home, slamming the door in Ellianne’s face. But I couldn’t. I owed her, and owing a faerie wasn’t like owing your friend a few bucks. It was an obligation, and now it was time to pay up.
“Okay.” My voice shook. “What favor do you ask of me?”
Ellianne’s smile was taut, but there was a haughty edge to it. She had me pinned down and could ask pretty much anything, and I’d have to agree. That was a terrifying prospect.
“I require you to find a book for my collection.”
I bit my tongue before I could blurt out something like, “That’s all?” as relief washed over me. I was a skilled researcher. I could find a freaking book!
“What book?” I asked instead.
“It is a handwritten tome from the 1860s entitled Curses and Cures. It was written by a mad witch named Leah Ladd.”
“Okay.” I took out my phone and typed the title and author along with the year into a memo so I wouldn’t forget. “I’ll hunt it down.”
“So, you accept this task to pay the favor owed?” Ellianne asked with a strange formality.
That was the supernatural world for you–always oddly formal.
“Yes.”
Her eyes brighte
ned.
She leaned forward and whispered, “You must say it.”
I sighed. “I accept the task of finding this book as payment for my debt to you.”
A cold feeling settled on my skin, sinking deep into my bones despite my coat. An icy vice clamped around my heart. I shivered and exhaled a puff of frozen air. Then the cold faded and left my skin tingling in its wake.
“Then it is done,” Ellianne said. “You have three days.”
Record scratch.
“Wait, what?” My heart picked up its pace again.
Ellianne blinked. “That’s the deal. You must complete the task set before you within three days. I will be back to collect the book then.”
My mind raced as panic rose. I tried to recall when a time limit had been mentioned. It hadn’t.
“That wasn’t the deal,” I said. “I said I’d get it done, but not when.”
Ellianne tsk’d. “A favor cannot be allowed to hang in the air indefinitely. I know how you mortals are. Three days should be sufficient.”
“For me to find a book you can’t? It might not even be in the country! It could take a month just to locate it.”
I sounded petulant, but come on. Three days was nothing. If a faerie was having trouble finding it, it could take me, a werewolf whose superpowers consisted of slightly heightened senses, a long time to track it down.
Ellianne lifted her delicate shoulders. “It is already done. The favor must be paid in three days. It is 9 pm now. I will return at the same hour on Friday night to collect my prize.”
I shook my head as if I could shake off the spell that had already settled onto me.
“What if I can’t find it?” My voice came high-pitched and panicked.
Moon Bound (The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles Book 3) Page 1
