Shadow's Moon

by Jami Gray

  His eyes darkened and his gentle touches disappeared. His need surged and a low growl escaped. He lowered his head and took her lips, deliberate seduction lost under their rising wild hunger. His mouth plundered, wiping away any traces of rational thought, leaving behind only primal urges and soul-deep needs.

  She twisted in his hold until she could grasp his shoulders and drag him closer.

  He released her mouth and, with a muttered curse, gripped the edge of her sweatshirt to drag it over her head.

  Cool air swept across her over-heated skin, leaving chills behind. Beneath the concealing lace of her demi-bra, her nipples pebbled. A scorching whip of want lashed at her, driving her cravings higher. The room took a dizzying turn as he lifted her off her feet. Instinct had her legs wrapping around his waist as she tried to crawl closer, ravenous need taking the driver’s seat.

  His bed’s thick comforter pressed against her back and her tight hold loosened enough to allow him to pull back. He rose above her in the moonlight, his lips trailing over her shoulder and down the slope of one breast.

  She arched under him, whimpering.

  His constant growls, rumbling in his chest, created a vibrating wall of heat against her sensitive skin as he shifted his weight to one arm. His movement drove his hard length against her, making her core weep with want. Keeping the pressure steady, even as her body began to writhe beneath him, he traced one finger along the lacy edge of her bra.

  Captivated, she watched his face tighten with lust as she followed his delicate movements, mesmerized.

  His tongue swept over his bottom lip, anticipating the feast awaiting him.

  She wanted to feel the damp heat of his mouth suckling the aching nipple he was currently teasing. She needed—no, craved—more than his careful touch. He was driving her crazy. “Please, Warrick.” Her plea fractured as his finger dipped beneath the lace.

  His low chuckle rasped over her sensitized nerve endings, sliding under her skin and twining around her heart. Slowly, he brought his slumberous gaze to hers, never stopping the butterfly movements that left her squirming. “You are mine.” His voice was rough, as his ability to form coherent words disappeared.

  Through their bond, a wave of protective love, pride, worry, tenderness, and wild need tumbled to her. Cautious joy shimmered through her. Maybe they could really make this work.

  She stilled his delicate touch by curling her fingers around his wrist. “Yes, but—”

  His body tensed in a moment of predatory stillness.

  Her emotional uncertainty flared through their bond, but she wasn’t a dominant for nothing. Assured of his full attention, she released his wrist and raised her hand to the nape of his neck, tangling her fingers in his thick hair, pulling him down to her mouth. Just before their lips met, she snarled softly, “You’re mine as well.”

  Her claim was met with male pride. Their emotional connection deepened as both human and primal sides collided in a storm of passion, want, need, and desire. Setting her teeth into his lower lip, she and her wolf made their claim in complete harmony. He was hers. Releasing her hold, she sealed her promise with a kiss. She and her alpha might not have it all worked out, but she would fight tooth and nail for him. For his wolf.

  The flare of satisfaction in his eyes was her only warning as his passion stepped off the feral edge. With a low growl, he reclaimed her mouth as he tore the fragile lace of her bra, baring her to his touch. Cupping her breast, he released her lips and captured one swollen peak in the heated cavern of his mouth. His tongue curled around the tip as he drew her deep.

  Erotic heat sent her arching into his consuming touch while broken sounds fell from her mouth. Words fled, leaving her gasping as fire roared through her. Determined to drag him into the same shattering storm, her fingers fumbled at his waist, tearing open his jeans, and he returned the favor.

  A confusing flurry of movement ensued, then both were blessedly naked. The luxurious sensation of finally being skin-to-skin tore what few remaining restraints existed free.

  Following the frantic path of her hands with her mouth, she set her teeth into his neck, leaving her mark, claiming him. His groan was answered by her soft laugh. Her nails left behind red marks as she dragged them from his shoulders to the rise of his ass.

  He used his heavier body to press her into the mattress as his mouth wove a destructive path from her neck, over her breast, and lower. Their storm of passion raged, destroying rational thought, leaving behind riotous sensations in its wake.

  Her mindless demands of “More!” were met by low, answering growls. Their hands slid over and around sweat-dampened skin, rediscovering familiar territory and blazing new ones. Their tongues tangled in frantic need as judiciously applied teeth added a carnal bite to their play that turned a shared wildfire into an inferno.

  The love she tried to push away broke its lock and surged forward, shattering through their shared psychic tie, leaving her vulnerable. Her insecurities and fears were washed under the initial, vicious wave of need created by their weeks-long separation. As her body burned in the sensuous inferno, she gorged on the ability to connect to the man who lived in her soul. For the first time, his wolf and hers were in alignment, with no barriers between them. The connection between them strengthened, illuminating the possibilities.

  Their caresses gentled and lingered. Kisses turned from desperate to drugging and somehow Xander managed to get Warrick at her mercy. His body lay stretched before her as she cupped his strong jaw in her hands. Straddling him, she leaned forward to sip from his lips. Determined to tease them both, she let his heated length slide along her dampness, increasing their hunger and drawing it out. She kissed her way down his chest and lower. Her heart raced, causing her breath to turn short and choppy as she gloried in her ability to indulge.

  She didn’t stop until she knelt between his thighs. Dragging her nails down his ribs in a light caress, she watched in feminine pride as he arched under her touch. Bending forward, she pressed a trail of small kisses over his thighs, deliberately avoiding his straining erection.

  His hands burrowed into her hair. “Dammit, Xander.”

  She gave a low laugh and let him pull her to where he wanted her most. Wrapping her hand around him, she flicked her tongue and traced the velvet-covered steel in her hand. His hips rose with an undeniable demand. Desire coiled, dark and needy, wiping away her laughter until only want remained. His spicy scent swirled around her, dark with desire, and she gave up the fight, craving his taste.

  Taking him into her mouth, she closed her eyes, savoring his addictive taste. Their bond was wide open and she followed the images in his mind. Paying attention to what drove him crazy, she tightened her lips and flattened her tongue. His groans were music to her ears. She lost herself in his pleasure until she couldn’t tell where hers began and his ended. When she couldn’t take anymore, she lifted her head, waiting until his eyes fluttered open.

  Carnal need and unspoken demands swirled in his dazed amber gaze. With a small smile, she adjusted her position until she rose over him. Muscles flexed and coiled as took him in one slow, torturous inch at a time. His rigid length began to fill her, and her breath stuttered as she fought not to break their visual connection. Holding his gaze, she rotated her pelvis, using small controlled movements to take him in.

  His eyes blazed as his hands went to her hips to help her torture them both. Inch-by-agonizing-inch, she took him, until he was seated so deep the sensation rode the line between pleasure and pain. She stopped, savoring the edge. Bracing her hands on his thighs behind her, she arched her spine, pushing him deeper. Her soft, hungry cry broke free, her eyes fluttering closed. He shifted his hips, giving a gentle push, rocking her forward. Her hands flew to his chest to brace herself. “Not yet,” she begged. “I need—”

  “Me.” He wrapped one hand around her neck, the other holding her hip as he rolled her under and took over.

  Her broken cries filled the heated darkness as he held her hips sti
ll and pulled his shaft out with deliberate slowness, dragging his thickness against her most sensitive spot.

  White lightning sparked through her veins, tightening the coil of need to a new breaking point. Her body writhed under his, trying to get him to move.

  He pulled back until only the tip of him was inside and her hips bucked against his restraining grip, trying to recapture him. His low chuckle was her only warning. He plunged deep, wringing a short scream from her. He didn’t stop, pulling back only to drive forward again, setting a demanding rhythm she greedily answered.

  Lost in the dance, in the spiraling sensations threatening to shatter her she willingly gave in to the tempest, trusting him to hold her. Together, they rode the cresting wave, the rise and fall of their bodies accompanied by soft murmurs and muttered demands. Sensations piled upon each other until her world burst apart in a violent explosion of ecstasy. Her cry of release was joined by his deep shout as he followed her.

  Embracing the shuddering man, who held her heart in his hands, she basked in the wonder of their connection. She could feel him, every aspect of him and his wolf. The soul-deep sense of precious completion brought tears to her eyes and hope to her heart. Her arms tightened as their bond burned like a star. Their breathing began to slow and, as the minutes passed, the nova of their connection dimmed to a warm ember.

  Fear fluttered across her heart and she closed her eyes, fighting back useless tears and tucking her emotional hurt away. As their bond settled, his barriers reformed, locking pieces of him out of reach. Faced with his inability to trust her, hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  Warrick rolled to his side, tucking her against him. He brushed a loving hand over her short hair before dropping his arm around her waist.

  She burrowed against his chest, unwilling to reveal her pain.

  He nuzzled her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her jaw. “Sleep, pixie girl. I’ve got you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Warrick snapped awake, his wolf prowling under his skin. Careful to keep his breathing low and even, he lay in his bed with Xander’s warm weight sprawled across his chest. Silence lay heavy and deep, broken only by Xander’s soft exhalations. It took a second to identify what had disturbed him and set his wolf on edge.

  It was too quiet.

  The normal white noise of the nighttime chorus from the woods surrounding his home was absent, replaced by an uneasy stillness. He didn’t need his wolf to recognize the signs of a hunt. He tightened his hold on the curvy form in his arms and the slight movement caused her boneless body to tense. He brushed a soft kiss over her tousled hair, feeling the silky strands under his lips.

  “Company.” His warning was a mere thread of sound.

  She tried to push away from his chest, but he tightened his grip, stilling her movements. She jerked her head up. Sparks of amber gold cut through the normal green of her eyes. The resulting glow, set among the delicate lines of ink, gave her an exotic appearance.

  Her gaze jumped to the window overlooking his balcony, the blinds partially open. The faint sound of the intruders softly landing had her lips curling back in a silent snarl. The beginnings of a sub-vocal growl vibrated her chest against his. As the immediate threat closed in, the warrior replaced the woman. Her nails curled into his shoulders leaving a stinging bite behind.

  Following her gaze, he caught the slightest edge of movement in the sporadic moonlight. His wolf charged to the surface and his vicious snarl filled the night as he reversed their positions. He raised his body giving Xander room to roll out from under him and off the bed. The window shattered as something dark and heavy crashed through the blinds and skidded across the wooden floor.

  Fury tore through Warrick. They dared to threaten him? In his home? With his mate? The change swallowed the man in seconds, leaving an enraged wolf behind. Muscles coiled and nails dug into the rumpled sheets as he lunged for the attackers.

  The sounds of snarls and growls filled the dark bedroom as Xander crouched on the floor, her hand sweeping around her until the brush of fabric met her touch. Snatching Warrick’s discarded T-shirt, she dragged it over her head, keeping her gaze focused on the closed door. Flickering shadows danced along the small gap at the base of the door. There were more intruders besides the jackass that crashed through the window.

  Next to her, the bed shuddered as the fighting wolves slammed into it. Though the noise behind her drowned out all other sounds, there was no hiding the nose-wrinkling scents wafting from the hall. Warrick could handle the one in the bedroom. She would deal with whoever lurked on the other side of the door.

  Keeping her focus on the gap, she gauged the shifting shadows as she stalked forward. Her wolf rose, preparing for the change. Inching closer to the door, she caught the bite of cordite and oil seeping through cracks in the doorframe. A gun? The fucking cowards brought a gun?

  A gun meant she needed hands, not paws. Cold practically allowed her to control the familiar ache of the change. Her muscles quivered in anticipation as she allowed only her canines to lengthen, her nails to thicken, and her senses to sharpen. Partial shift complete, the night lost some of its secrets.

  Across the room, a sharp, unfamiliar yip proved Warrick scored a hit. The shadows under the door paused.

  She slid into the space to the left of the door, pressing her back to the wall, falling into a hunter’s stillness. Like the intensity before a lightening strike, the build-up of the intruder’s anticipation on the other side coiled her muscles. Her lips curled in satisfaction. That’s right, come on in.

  The crack of a foot hitting wood sent the door crashing against the opposite wall. As moonlight glinted off metal, Xander exploded into movement. Grasping the barrel of the shotgun, she used surprise and momentum to yank the shooter through the doorframe. He got a shot off, but she ignored the burn of the metal under her palm as the barrel bucked and a slug rammed into the ceiling.

  Jerking the gun down and across her hip, she pulled the intruder forward and straight into her fist. The short but powerful strike to his temple loosened his grip on the weapon and sent him stumbling back into the rebounding door and out into the hall. She followed, yanking the shotgun out of his hand before slamming the stock into his chin. His head snapped back and he crumpled to the floor.

  She kicked his body away and looked up in time to see a third form charging down the hall. She switched her grip until the shotgun became an improvised baseball bat. Once again, she swung the gun and the impact of the stock meeting flesh and bone reverberated through her arms and shoulders. Her attacker staggered back, the muffled groan music to her ears.

  Her grip on the barrel tightened, the metal creaking as it gave under the pressure. She tossed the now useless gun away and began to stalk her prey. Sporadic moonlight fell through the high windows, shrouding the corridor in patches of shadows.

  Her assailant was still on his feet, one hand clutching the railing, the other wrapped around his ribs. He shuffled back, retreating, his breathing harsh as he avoided the shafts of moonlight.

  “Bet it hurts, uh?” Menace left her a voice a vicious purr. “Probably broke a few ribs.”

  She stalked closer, matching him step for step. The hair at the nape of her neck began to rise in warning. She stopped, and so did the man veiled in shadows.

  She scented the air and her wolf went wild. Power, dark and twisted, rose and gathered strength. A spell?

  This was no wolf, but a wizard.

  Keeping this one alive was no longer an option. The darker counterparts to witches, wizards were bad news. Everything they touched, everything they did, ended in pain and suffering. It didn’t matter who the spell was meant for, it had to be stopped. Only the wizard’s death could break the magical storm hovering in the air between them.

  “Go ahead, bitch.” His words were gritted out between shallow breaths. “Let’s see who’ll make it first.” He let go of the railing and stepped into a pool of moonlight. The building magic deepened, and she recoiled as the perv
erted tendrils raked against her spirit. Ignoring the discomfort, she shoved the nightmarish memories of another’s deviant magic and focused on her target as she inched forward a step at a time.

  A brief surge of satisfaction coursed through her, Warrick’s, and then his triumph howl echoed through the house. Two down, one to go.

  The wizard paled, his gaze darting nervously to the entryway behind her.

  Using his moment of distraction she lunged, clearing the space between them in an instant. Her lethal nails ripped across fabric and skin, blood blooming in dark ribbons across his stomach and chest. His horrified screams rent the air, but her attack broke his concentration, shattering the building spell.

  Her wolf took over, instinct guiding her actions as the overriding urge to eliminate the threat consumed her. The wizard stumbled back under her fury. When he raised an arm to keep her from his throat, she raked her nails across his unprotected stomach. He doubled over and she went for his throat. Hot blood flooded her mouth, sparking a savage joy. The force of her attack slammed the wizard into the wooden spindles of the railing and, with an ominous crack, the hand carved wood broke leaving the man teetering over open air.

  Even as she felt him fall, she refused to release him. Her hind claws scored the floor, her teeth locked in his throat, her fore claws digging deep into the soft tissue of his stomach as his weight pulled him down. The all-consuming need for his death, allowed her to ignore the ringing blow when he managed to land a solid punch to her face.

  A freight train slammed into her, yanking her away from her prey. Snarling, she swung to face the newest threat. Adrenaline rushed through her veins like a firestorm and it took precious seconds for the familiar scent of cinnamon and cloves to pierce her mindless fury. As the haze dissipated, she realized she was lying on the hallway floor with Warrick’s wolf straddling her. His amber eyes locked on her, his dark muzzle close to hers as his snarls and hot breath fanned her face.