Touched by Moonlight

by Bonnie Vanak

  “Well, I don’t know about mind-blowing. My mind is still here.”

  As he stared at me, I laughed and it felt so good to laugh again freely, without wondering who watched and who judged me for my odd sense of humor. Grayson grinned and gave a gentle swat on my ass. “Bad Sienna. I should punish you for that.”

  “If punishment means another session, I’ll take it.”

  “As you wish,” he murmured, before rolling over atop me once more.

  By the time we finished, I was ready for a nap, so we fell asleep atop the ground. When I finally stirred, wonder filled me.

  Around us, the garden was bursting with color and life. Grayson raised his head, looking amused.

  “Hungry? We could return to the house and make lunch.”

  I picked a few of the rich, ripe tomatoes, a fat head of lettuce and a few big cucumbers to bring back to the house, my mouth watering at the idea of a salad. Grayson gave me his shirt to carry them, and accompanied me bare-chested, on our walk back. He had a nice body, all tanned and smooth muscle. Made a girl hungry all over again for more than a mere salad.

  People were bustling in the kitchen, preparing lunch, grabbing things from the refrigerator. Grayson introduced me to a flurry of names. Everyone seemed happy to meet me.

  Stephan was at the counter, preparing sandwiches. He saw me and his adorable face lit up with a boyish grin. He hurried to take the veggies away from me and washed them, and then chopped them into a huge salad.

  Nicolas joined us, munching on a roast beef sandwich. As we ate at the kitchen table, Stephan scurried away. I frowned. “Why doesn’t Stephan eat with us?”

  Grayson wiped his hands with a paper towel. “Don’t trouble yourself about it, Sienna. He’ll eat when he’s hungry.”

  Huh. Nicolas and Grayson talked about the garden and how it flourished, thanks to me, though Grayson didn’t mention our lovemaking.

  Leaving them to discuss future plantings, I put my empty bowl and fork in the sink and wandered outside to look for Stephan. I felt bad that he hadn’t joined us and wondered if this was his usual routine.

  Near the house was a small copse of pine trees and sturdy maples and a trellis that formed an entrance to what looked like a garden. Wind whispered through the trees and the cool breeze felt delightful against my skin.

  At the entrance there was a lovely carved wood bench. I walked closer to investigate. The bench sat on a patch of gravel, where one could sit and admire the view. It appeared carved from a single piece of hardwood, with two proud wolves, tails raised, at either end.

  Whoever did this was a master artisan. I sat, running my hands over the warm wood. And then I heard an odd sound coming from the garden, and went to investigate.

  As I cleared the wooden trellis, I entered a small clearing ringed by rocks, with a fountain burbling in the middle.

  A smaller gray wolf sat near the fountain, tearing into a hunk of meat. Snarling, it attacked the meat with such fury, it nearly scared me. I hung back, wondering at the wolf’s savagery. The wolf bit into the meat, ripping it as if starving. The feral wildness in his eating was a marvel to behold, because it was a thing of nature, of the elements, as if the creature was truly a wolf and not a werewolf.

  I recognized the scent. After all, we had made love only this morning.

  Suddenly the wolf raised his bloody muzzle and turned, seeing me. He snarled.

  “Hello Stephan,” I said quietly. “Remember me?”

  For a moment I feared the wolf did not remember, and would see me only as a threat to his meal. Then those amber eyes clouded, blinked.

  Stephan materialized and the wolf vanished. Nude, his mouth covered with blood, he squatted on the ground, refusing to meet my gaze.

  “Why did you come here? I can’t believe you saw me like that.” he asked, hugging himself.

  “I wanted to check on you,” I said as gently as possible, feeling horrible that he was ashamed. “It’s nothing bad, Stephan. You’re a wolf.”

  “A savage.”

  “No!”

  “This is who I am,” he whispered, his hands bloody. “I’m sorry, Sienna.”

  “Stephan,” I started, but he’d already fled past me, out of the glen toward the deeper woods near the mountain, shifting into a wolf as he ran.

  Damnit, now he’d think I judged him. I had meant no harm, but that didn’t matter.

  This pack seemed filled with secrets.

  And I had just discovered one I sensed was quite important.

  Chapter 14

  Slightly shaken by what I’d witnessed, I went in search of Grayson.

  No matter how many assurances I’d given Stephan, doubt lingered in his once-merry gaze. He’d slunk away, head down. If he still had a tail, it would have been tucked between his legs.

  Back at the house, I found Grayson in the library, working on the computer at the desk. After I informed him what happened, he gently advised me it was best to leave him alone.

  “It isn’t your fault, Sienna. He’s experienced too much pain and judgement from others. Give it time and he will learn to trust you.”

  “I don’t have time. Where would he go?”

  The alpha sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. “Usually after he has meals, Stephan has the need to connect with his human half. He likes to tinker with his motorcycle in the garage if he isn’t carving.”

  Insight struck me. “That bench by the little copse of woods to the north of the house….he did it.”

  Grayson nodded. “Stephan likes to perfect his human talents. He believes it grounds his wolf and makes him appear more…civilized to those in the pack who might think him savage.”

  Savage, when he was a wolf? A beast who hunted and had to eat to survive? I could see why Stephan preferred to dine alone. When people judged you on one character trait, they tended to dismiss your other qualities.

  I trailed a finger over the spotless shelves holding thick books on business and finance. “Grayson, what happened to him? Is that why he refused to eat breakfast and lunch with us?”

  The alpha ran a hand through his black hair and sighed. “That’s a story only Nicolas and Stephan should tell you. It’s their story. I don’t have the right to share it.”

  He stood and clasped my shoulders. “It’s a sad story, Sienna. The Fae can be… merciless.”

  Then it was about damn time Stephan saw the good side of Fae. “I’ll be back,” I told him, and kissed him.

  As I left the house to search for Stephan, I began to understand. This was a refuge for werewolves and those too deeply wounded to join a normal pack. Like Stephan.

  Heading for the scattering of small outbuildings near the house, I heard a loud bang followed by a curse. Taking a deep breath, I approached the workshop.

  The double wide doors were open, and the pleasing scent of woodchips and cedar greeted me. Clad now in a forest green polo shirt and khakis and boots, Stephan stood in the shop’s center, sucking on his thumb. A hammer and chisel lay on the ground, the obvious reason for his injured digit.

  A hank of dark brown hair hung over his forehead as he scowled.

  Stephan picked up the hammer and threw it at the wood on the table. “Fuck you,” he yelled.

  I should have backed away on tip-toe. But I found myself mesmerized by the sculpture starting to take form from the wood block.

  Rising from the wood like a phoenix reborn from ashes was a man, one arm outstretched to the sky. Only his upper body was revealed, but the detail was astounding – from the muscular biceps to the tight anguish on his face as he looked upward. Broad shoulders were adorned with giant wings, like Icarus rising toward the sun.

  “It’s amazing,” I breathed, unable to help myself as I went into the shop and touched the sculpture. “Such life.”

  Stephan stood quietly watching me for a minute. He retrieved the hammer and swung it, his expression menacing.

  “It’s not finished.” Then he picked up a canvas tarp and tossed it over the piec
e, tugging it to complete remove it from my view.

  He turned and faced me, his brows drawn together, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You shouldn’t be here, Sienna. This is private.”

  “I needed to see you and apologize for interrupting you.”

  A curt nod. “Apology accepted.” He turned away.

  Oh no, not going to be that easily dismissed. I could see how I’d hurt him more than the hammer had caused physical injury.

  “I’ll leave, but not until I check out your hand. You injured yourself.”

  Holding his right palm behind his back, he scowled again. “It’s nothing.”

  Judging from the lines of pain etching his face, it was not. I tugged his hand toward me and examined his thumb. Swollen to twice its size, it was already bruising. Perhaps broken.

  Maybe he would have tried to jerk it out of my grip, but I held fast. Stephan was strong. I was determined.

  Grayson had assured me the property was protected from outsiders, warded against anyone seeing any kind of display of power. Even trace elements of magick were contained.

  My magick had already healed the earth. I let my powers rise, gathered them as a human might meditate. A lyrical chant echoed in my mind – the ancient voice of my people who had used their magick for good, long before darkness and greed permeated the colony.

  Closing my eyes, I recited the chant in my mind, envisioning Stephan’s thumb whole and healed, the bones knit together smoothly. Healing power seeped out of me like sweat. I felt a little drained, but not much, as if I had jogged a short distance.

  When I opened my eyes and released him, Stephan stared at his hand.

  His thumb was normal, no sign of injury.

  Gone too, was the suspicion and anger. Instead, his features smoothed out, and he grinned, the typical boyish grin I liked best.

  “It feels great. Wow. Thanks, Sienna.”

  Healing physical injuries never presented a challenge. How I wished I could heal his internal ones as well, the scars that ran deep and kept him apart from the rest of the pack at mealtimes.

  “How did you do that?” Something shone in his eyes. It looked like hope. “Grayson said you were Fionn Fae and had special abilities, but I didn’t know about the healing part.”

  I wonder how many people the alpha had told about my origins. “You know what I am and you’re willing to let me stay here?”

  He gave me a shy look, the bashful werewolf returned. “I like you, a lot. And you mean a lot to Grayson. He told us about the dreams you shared. If he wants you here, then I’m happy to have you as well.”

  Then he gave me a cocky grin. “And have you in other ways as well, like this morning.”

  Warmth filled me. “It was a great way to wake up.”

  Curious about the reaction Grayson might have, I asked him. “Grayson doesn’t mind sharing lovers?”

  “He leaves it up to the woman. We share everything here, as long as there’s mutual consent. This isn’t like other packs.”

  I asked him about others in the pack. Stephan shrugged. “Grayson wants to make everyone here feel welcome. Accepted. We have wolf shifters, witches, elders, all sorts here. You might call us a pack of vagabonds.” He gazed into the distance, his expression sad. “I sure as hell am.”

  Sympathy wouldn’t work with someone as proud as Stephan. Instead, I turned my attention to the sculpture hidden beneath the cloth. “From what I saw of this, a true artist created this. Wanderer or not, you have a gift, Stephan.”

  Another shrug. “I like working with wood. It brings out my human side. My wolf side can be… not nice.”

  “What’s wrong with being a wolf? Your wolf has advantages your human side does not.”

  He began putting away tools into a drawer, arranging them in a row. “You saw my wolf side. It’s a beast, a savage. I can’t even eat dinner with the others. Talk about a lack of table manners.”

  Stephan might not want me here, but I sensed he needed to talk, and this was a delicate matter he hadn’t been able to discuss with others. I pulled up a stool and sat. “Wolves devour their prey. You live in a wolf shifter pack.”

  He frowned, studied his thumb again. “For a Fae, you’re pretty understanding.”

  “I am Fae, but I’ve also seen the dynamics of packs in my, uh, travels. How you were eating is perfectly natural and normal.”

  The drawer slammed shut with a bang as he heaved it closed. Stephan turned to me. “Normal for a wolf shifter. But damnit, Sienna, I can’t consume food as a human! Something went wrong with me when I turned 21 and shifted for the first time.”

  Never had I heard of such a dilemma. “Ouch. I can see where this could be problematic.”

  “Oh, I can drink just fine. Beer, water, you name it. But as a human, if I try to eat more than a few bites, I get sick.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Talk about being a lousy dinner date.”

  “Is this why you joined Grayson’s pack?” I asked as gently as possible.

  He nodded. The sadness in his beautiful eyes made my heart ache.

  “Stephan, what happened with the Fae?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It…hurts too much. Let’s just say she betrayed me and ruined my life.”

  Knowing how deeply betrayal hurt, wishing I didn’t know from personal experience, I went to him and opened my arms. He hesitated at first and then entered my embrace, burying his head against my shoulder.

  “We’re a ragtag bunch of misfits,” he mumbled. “Welcome to our home, the crazy assortment of oddities.”

  “You’re not peculiar. Or crazy. You’re simply different.” I stroked his back. “So am I. I’m a Fae without a colony, without a home. I have no real home. Not anymore.”

  He lifted his head and kissed my cheek. “You can have one here, with us, Sienna.”

  “In a wolf pack?”

  “Not just a wolf pack. You could easily fit in and be one of us.”

  For a moment, the generous offer tempted me. No more running from my enemies. And then I laughed inside. Fit in? Me.

  Never.

  I gently untangled myself from his embrace. “Let me know when I can see the sculpture. I’m quite interested.”

  I left the workshop, feeling the heavy weight of Stephan’s disappointment hover in the air. Stephan might think himself different for not being anything more than what he was – a wolf – when he ate.

  But I was something far more dangerous and I could never fit in.

  With this pack or anyone else.

  Chapter 15

  I’m not used to being indolent. My life for the past three years has consisted of movement. Running from city to city. Working.

  I offered to help out in the kitchen or with chores, but was told to go enjoy myself.

  Having time to do as I pleased made me feel odd and guilty, and hell, I’d experienced enough guilt since the day I fled Oregon. It made sense to go home, start packing my things and picking out my next destination on the map. Because if Kallan had found me, it was only a matter of time before he tracked me to my work and my home.

  Since Grayson and his betas knew what I was, why hide it any longer? I decide to indulge my spirit in the outdoors and set out to explore the gardens I’d seen near the house.

  Barefoot, I walked outside. In the distance a man worked on one of the wind turbines.

  Drawing closer, I realized it was Nicolas. Up on a ladder, he wore a blue chambray shirt, jeans and was barefoot. With the Stetson on his dark head, he looked more like a cowboy than a werewolf. Until he glanced down and saw me.

  The hard look returned to his face as he climbed down, a screwdriver in hand. Brown eyes flashed amber as he stared at me. Wolf eyes, reminding me just who I dealt with.

  Slapping the screwdriver from one palm to the other, he looked over his shoulder at the distant workshop. “Did you apologize to Stephan?”

  Sensing I had to tread carefully, I lifted my chin. “That’s between your brother and myself.”


  “No, it’s not. You hurt him, you hurt me, Sienna.” He prowled toward me, anger and aggression rolling off him in waves.

  “It’s hard to avoid hurting someone when you don’t even know squat about why they’re hurting.”

  He halted, and scowled.

  I held my ground. “Grayson told me the story was yours and Stephan’s to tell. Your brother refused to talk about it and I’m not going to drag it out of him. So you’re the only one left who can fill me in.”

  He seemed to wrestle with a decision. “Why? So you can use it against him and cause more damage?”

  “You know what I am.”

  More scowling. “Yes.”

  Nicolas wasn’t the kind of werewolf you could soothe with pretty words and promises. I didn’t want to use my powers before, but they had leeched out of me as Grayson and I made love. What the hell. Maybe it was time for a harmless demonstration.

  “You know I have power and can use it. If I wanted to hurt your brother, I wouldn’t use words, Nick. I’d use this.”

  Allowing my powers to surge a little, I gathered them into my fist. My hand glowed white. No choice now, I had to get rid of it. Destroying the wind turbines would ruin my point. Something that was not necessary… there.

  A pile of rusted metal parts a short distance away from the turbine farm. “You need that pile of rusted metal?”

  “No. It’s scrap.”

  “Good. Step far away from it,” I warned.

  After he did, I hurled the power at the junk heap. Nicolas winced and clapped hands over his ears as the metal screeched and then exploded.

  When the dust cleared, there was nothing left but brown dust.

  Eyes wide, he removed his hat and tossed it to the ground, as if symbolically throwing it into the ring. The scar on his left cheek flared white as he ground his jaw. “Shit. Grayson told me you were powerful, but…”

  “I hate it,” I said simply. “It’s destructive and tricky, and even when I use it for good, it’s too much for me. Like a weight around my neck. When I gather my powers, they get hard to control. It’s too much for me. My family, and almost everyone in my former colony is dead because of my magick. I destroyed them, Nick. They tried to destroy me first, but that doesn’t assuage the guilt I have to deal with every single day I’m breathing.”