Moonlight Whispers: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 8)

by K. R. Alexander

  “They were pretty decent until you showed your true colors. Now they’re slipping by the second.”

  “Right.” He turned away. “I never made a secret of where my loyalties lie, darling.” And he trotted off in nothing but red boxer shorts for the kitchen.

  He had the nerve to come back and bang on the door while I was actually in the shower. I yelled at him to go away, but he wheedled.

  “You have my wardrobe, darling!”

  “Fine, come in!”

  He had his cargo pants and socks on, still chewing—must have brought one with him—when I opened the steamed up frosted-glass door for my fluffy, cream-colored towel. Gabriel had exquisite towels.

  “Hey, do you want this?” I held the glass door.

  “Not especially. I showered yesterday. But do I need to shave?” He’d put in his contact lenses and now grimaced at the mirror, which was mostly hidden by steam while the ceiling fan ran.

  “No,” I said. “It’s not that noticeable when you go a day or two.”

  “Don’t say things like that.” He rubbed off more of the mirror with the hand towel. “It makes a wolf wonder if his testosterone level is low. We’re all easily wounded.”

  “You may be easily wounded but you certainly don’t need to worry about a lack of testosterone around here. Can I have that?”

  He threw me the hand towel and I squeezed extra water from my hair.

  “How are you doing?” I asked. “I feel like we’ve hardly exchanged a word since Portland.”

  “Perhaps because it’s true.” He combed his hair, rumpled it up, combed it again, and looked around at me.

  I smiled, towel wrapped around under my arms while I soaked the little one with my hair. “Don’t worry. Your hair is always beautiful.”

  “I know, darling. I wasn’t seeking your opinion. But thank you. I do have the best hair in the pack. Besides you, of course.”

  “Why are you all so interested in my hair? Even Jason likes to put his face in it.”

  “How else could we ever get a sense of you in fur?” Andrew walked over to me to touch the wet strands. “Your smell, your texture, your color. We can only fantasize about you running with us in fur—smelling what we smell, hunting what we hunt. But hair is a comfort. Hair color is not always an indication of anything, but it can be. It’s hardly as if Jed has a curly coat when he’s in fur, but the rough, thick texture is there. While Jason’s silky hair translates to his soft coat. It’s exciting to breathe through your hair, feel it on our skin, and imagine our golden she-wolf.”

  He smiled, dragging his gaze from my wet hair to my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t know, that’s all. I never thought of that. I’m sorry I can never have that kind of perception with you. The scents, the new experiences, the songs… I have a terrible singing voice. You all seem born talented in that regard.”

  “You’re a witch.” He kissed me gently on the lips. “No need for regrets. Besides, now we know certain things are possible in the world when it comes to wolves and humans…” He looked down—to my stomach.

  “I talked to Isaac about that. I don’t think it would matter. Even if he is the biological father, it sounds like the chances of her inheriting that gene are remote.”

  “But possible.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Well … I don’t want to play favorites around here, Cassiopeia, but … my bet’s on your Arctic prince. Better, more diverse gene pool than all these Sables anyway.”

  “How do you feel about this whole thing with Isaac then? You’re not upset?”

  “We’re not here to draw up the weather.” Andrew watched my eyes. “The best we can do is take a walk when it’s clear. Take a drink when it rains. He is who he is.”

  “I’m glad.” I hugged him, which released my towel, but it was pinned between us anyway. “Thank you for always being there for me. And for this whole pack. Even when you try to pretend you’re not.”

  “Want to see a magic trick, darling? If I take one step back you’ll be undressed.”

  I laughed, which felt so wonderful I hugged him more, then grabbed my towel.

  Andrew kissed me. A real kiss: sweet, sticky caramel of his lips, yeasty flavor of the doughnut on his tongue, give and take of his pressure, his mouth moving with me and his hands going to my face.

  We hadn’t kissed like this since Portland. The touch, along with the memory, was instantly arousing, heating my blood, wanting him to pull the towel away. When could we sit down and talk more? When would we have another chance to touch like this? While we were stepping between all those raindrops?

  I moved into him again, one hand going to his face as well.

  Goddess, he was a brilliant kisser.

  He stroked my neck and down to the top edge of the towel with his fingertips.

  “Don’t want to rush anyone—” Kage’s voice calling from the bedroom. “Is there another bathroom in this place?”

  I pulled back, breathless. “Only attached to Gabriel’s room. Just let me get dressed. Be right out.”

  Andrew turned away to pull on a Henley and grab his messenger bag.

  “Andrew?” I spoke very softly again.

  He glanced at me.

  “Let’s talk sometime. Maybe about … Marie Antoinette? Or anything you like.”

  A slow grin crept across his face as he rested his hand on the doorknob. “You know about Marie Antoinette?”

  “Not really. But Jason mentioned her.”

  “That’s what you two talked about locked up?”

  “No.” I smiled. “It was before that.”

  “Sure. Perhaps we’ll get another picnic sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Then he slipped out. I rushed to dress and work on my hair before hurrying downstairs for other persons I wanted to talk to before we all sat down together.

  Chapter 51

  Zar was dressed and Jed had already changed to his skin and was in the bathroom when I arrived with a tentative knock.

  Zar, who seemed bunched in on himself, scrunched down, short of breath, let me in without a word.

  “Zar…” I hugged him, hand at the back of his neck, pulling him in, and he gently wrapped his arms around me. I’d told him I was sorry already. I’d asked could I do anything for him. Now I just held on for a couple of long minutes and said, “I love you.”

  Zar took a shuddering breath and only embraced me in return.

  I let go when Jed opened the bathroom door. He ignored us, sitting at the foot of one of the two beds to pull on his motorcycle boots.

  I stroked the stubble on Zar’s face and cupped his chin. “Are you okay to join us upstairs? We’re going to sit down. Probably get back on the road.”

  Zar nodded. He turned his face to kiss my palm.

  “You don’t need to eat anything if you don’t want to, but there are doughnuts and breakfast from Gabriel. Maybe some strawberries? After what you’ve just been through it would help if you can eat something. But I understand if not. When my mom died, there was a full day when I couldn’t eat anything. Couldn’t even think about food. Then … for like three days all I wanted to eat was ice cream. Specific ice cream: Häagen-Dazs chocolate bar with dark chocolate shell. Nothing else. If there’s anything you need, or don’t need. If you want to talk, or not talk, something to eat, or not, that’s okay.”

  He nodded, breathing slowly through his mouth, eyes downcast.

  “Mind if I talk to Jed for a minute? We’ll be right up.”

  When Zar left, Jed remained sitting on the bed, never looking at me.

  I let the door close and sat down on the nearest bed, turned to see him across it at the other—non-threatening.

  Still, Jed never glanced up.

  “I can’t believe you guys came here on your own last night,” I said. “That took some balls getting through London. Not to mention Kage on a four-hour train journey.” I smiled but to no avail. “How are you doing? Is there an
ything I can do to help? Do you need anything? Same for Zar goes for you.”

  He gave a sort of jerk of one shoulder. “We weren’t close like she was with Zar. He was her little pup.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re not grieving also.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “How’s Madison? We have to get the caravan. Everything go all right?”

  He nodded.

  I waited.

  Nothing.

  “Jed? Would you tell me something? And maybe you’ll start looking at me again if we can talk about this? Why did you do that to Isaac?”

  “Why?” He finally looked up.

  “Yes. Why. What were you thinking? Why was it important for you to out him like that when you knew how huge the ramifications might be?”

  I thought he would only sit there again, but no: “Because the pack has a right to know. If it’s true, if it’s not, the implications… That’s not even supposed to be a thing. A hybrid that’s really a wolf? And him keeping it a secret? That he even could do that…” Shaking his head.

  “You should have been able to smell it, shouldn’t you? If he was something different from the Sable wolves?”

  “Of course I should have. He’s a completely different species. So he says. And he can just walk into the territory and fool us? Fool Mary and Diana—” He stopped abruptly, looking at the bedspread between us.

  “Diana meant a lot to you, didn’t she? I know she believed in you, cared about you, or she never would have pushed you to come with us. Did they tell you Zacharias is in the hospital in Brighton? Along with a couple others. Atarah and Hannah are looking after everyone now.”

  No response.

  “If Diana knew about Isaac, how do you think she would have responded?”

  “He’s not a proper wolf,” Jed snapped. “She wouldn’t have let him around.”

  I waited.

  Jed rubbed his palms over his dark jeans, faded to charcoal.

  “You think so?” I asked softly. “A silver who was willing to take in foreigners? Who asked human casters for help? Who allowed my mundane sister to stay in the heart of her pack merely to protect her—not to help the pack in any way? You think if Isaac had gone to her and told his story, that she would have turned him away?”

  Nothing.

  “There are wolves in Iceland—”

  “Zar told me. Last night.”

  A long silence.

  “I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable about this, Jed. It’s not Isaac’s fault, what he is. And the reason you didn’t smell any difference on him is that he is a wolf. He just has a slightly different genetic makeup.” I paused. “Jed? I’ve wondered … would you have done the same thing to me?”

  He looked at me.

  “If something comparable had happened, I don’t know what, but something… If you had the chance to out me, to hurt me, ostracize me, would you do it?”

  He only stared at me as if I’d started speaking Greek.

  “What about Zar? Would you have done it to him? Andrew? Maybe… I’m sure you would have to Jason, right? I’ve just been thinking … I want to understand why you did what you did because it really bothers me that you did it. You’re better than that, Jed. You’re not the sort of person who goes around throwing your friends under the bus. I don’t care what you’ve been told to the contrary. Then I thought … surely you wouldn’t do that to me, would you? To Zar? But I don’t know. Did you do it because you were upset about something in particular? That you don’t like Isaac? That you were angry at him in general and then you were scared about this information that you didn’t understand? Because I get that. People do horrible things out of anger and fear. I can see the fear—how this has been a tough thing for you and Zar to deal with. But I don’t see anything else. So it raises questions for me and I want to know why. If you don’t have a why, then I have no reason to believe you wouldn’t do the same thing to me—to anyone. Just because. So I’d be wrong about you. Which I really don’t want to be.”

  Another silence.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you, Cassia…” A mumble.

  “Actually, you did. You have. You are right this minute. So be careful about your words. Did you not mean to hurt me? Do you regret hurting me? Because none of these things have the same meaning.”

  He looked at me, away, rubbed his arm the way Zar sometimes did. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I’m sorry this is hard on you. Sorry you’re not in fur—and that fur can’t always be enough. You don’t like Isaac, do you? I used to think you respected him more than the others. And I knew he’d saved your life when the pack killed your father. The more I thought about it the more I started to see it wasn’t respect. You were afraid of him. No shame in that. A foreigner, a northerner, living with humans, went to university—he’s another world, isn’t he? And stopping the pack killing you? What did that take? Did he have to fight them? Did he go to Diana? Sounds like a pretty intimidating wolf. Fear is enough to hate someone. That’s been proved throughout history, and still is today. But is that enough for you, Jed? You’re afraid of humans a little bit, aren’t you? And casters? Even so, I’m pretty sure you don’t hate me.”

  He watched me, started to speak, looked away. His breathing was quick and he rubbed his arm again.

  This time, I didn’t break the silence, didn’t stir. I only looked at the bedspread and waited. I’d learned to wait in case Jed might have something to say—starting a long time ago. What felt like years ago.

  It seemed I could hear a clock, sitting there listening to it tick, tick, tick with breaths and heartbeats and nothing else passing between.

  “I didn’t ask him to save me,” Jed said.

  I nodded, saying nothing.

  “He … thought it wasn’t right that they attacked me. But what was wrong was them attacking my father. I was the one who bit that girl. I was the one who deserved to die. Instead, he died and I lived. Lived only because of Isaac, or we’d both have been running with Moon that night.”

  Another pause and I looked up when I decided he was finished. “So you’ve never forgiven him for saving your life?”

  Jed swallowed.

  “Even when you had months being happy with the Beech Pack? Even when your silver entrusted you with a critical mission in front of your whole pack? Even when we played fetch in Yorkshire? Even when you sniffed your first grizzly bear and sang for as long and loud as you wanted? Even when you had your first kiss? You still wish he hadn’t? You still hate him for this life you’re living?” I paused. “Are you sure?”

  This time, in the hush, our eyes met, a long, quiet moment staring at each other. His expression had changed. Not angry and resentful anymore. For the first time, he looked confused.

  “Even the best of us get scared and angry, and can lash out at someone who has hurt us,” I said. “Deep wounds are slow to heal, no matter how old. I only wonder, though, when was the last time you took the cast off and checked to see if the bone was better? Have you ever? Have you ever even considered forgiving him for what he did? You wouldn’t need to say anything to him to do it. I happen to know Isaac has no idea why you hate him. He thinks you were suspicious from the start of outsiders and, like most wolves, keep a distance between yourself and new, unknown things. So it’s just a matter to ask yourself.”

  I stood up slowly, letting out a breath. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. Especially sorry your pain has been so invisible for so long. But isn’t there anything worthwhile about this life? Maybe it would help to look at these past years, even this past month, and ask yourself … are you glad to be alive? Then you’ll know if you’re ready to forgive… Or not.”

  Chapter 52

  Over a subdued breakfast—with Gabriel staying, despite it now being past 10:00 a.m.—I told about Stefan and my own conclusions about how we had to keep moving forward. I.e. by trusting no one.

  “We have each other,” I said. “Our own resourcefulness and knowledge. Our own instincts and common sen
se. Some of you tried to stop me getting us involved with the wild mages. You were right. I trust you and I’m going to listen to you in the future. I’m not sure I trust much of anyone else anymore.”

  The breakfasters were less than riveted but nodded and occasionally spoke.

  Kage, usually the life of a discussion, kept looking at Jason and said little.

  Jed and Zar were silent, Jed gulping like normal, Zar eating nothing.

  Isaac kept smiling at me. You’d have thought I was talking about the design of the new nursery.

  Gabriel asked more questions than anyone, which helped me put pieces together in my own head. Did we know for a fact that there was someone inside the Sable Pack who was working against us? No. Did we even know for certain that we’d been slipped bad information or deliberately misled at all? No.

  “That’s the thing, isn’t it?” I said. “That’s what makes it so scary. It’s time we started getting as paranoid as we should have been all along. We can’t do anything else for the pack now. Even if we did keep in touch it wouldn’t help. Most are hiding, they’re going to send the pups out of the country, and it’s best if we don’t know where. The missing pack members who are out sniffing for other South Coast Cooperative wolves in fur now have no idea what’s happened and there’s nothing we can do for them either.”

  “Or they do know,” Kage said. “If someone’s working for the other side, Philip is just the sort.”

  “He’s a prat, but sending someone to murder your own family might be a bit much,” Andrew said. “That part has to be them just spying. They knew when the territory was at its weakest and attacked.”

  “What about the Aspens?” Jason glanced at him. “Last we were home they had a bunch of them in.”

  “I don’t know…” Andrew dabbed his finger on doughnut crumbs on his plate.

  “Again,” I said. “We don’t know. But through some channel, somehow, it’s not working out to keep this open network. Many more mistakes and we’re not going to be around to hunt for anyone.”

  “Aside from the new strategies, what is it we’re doing now?” Kage asked.