Shadow of the Summer Moon

by Amanda LeMay

  “Dragged you away from your home for six months, and you’re gonna blame me for missing the spring flowers?” Jessy laughed, took her mate’s hand, and kissed it. He pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his big arm around her petite shoulders.

  “Never. You know there’s no way in hell I was gonna let you go alone, sweetheart.”

  “Where did you go?” I asked as I watched the miles and miles of fencing flash by in a strange kind of pulsing rhythm that matched the beating of my heart.

  I’m okay.

  “When I left San Francisco, I had a plan. I had a job all lined up and waiting for me in Albuquerque. I stopped here on the way to spend Christmas with my dad, realized I was hopelessly in love with this big male here, and...” Jessy lowered her head, stared into her lap. Her eyebrows pinched together, her face sad.

  Dain stroked her cheek with his thumb, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Then a bunch of crazy shit happened.” She took his hand and kissed his palm. “I guess, sometimes you have to live through hell to find the gates of heaven.”

  Live through hell. I could sympathize.

  I went back to staring out the passenger window. The rocks, trees, and green hills rolled by as we sped down the highway. The miles of fencing changed suddenly from a four-rail wooden fence to a black wrought iron that led to a huge, open, wrought iron gate.

  The truck slowed and turned, passing beneath the iron archway that spanned the dirt driveway. The words Bodolf Ranch were set into the fancy, scrolled frame in heavy, block lettering. The fragrance of living things was everywhere: green leaves, green grass, wild animals I didn’t recognize, water somewhere close by.

  We bounced along the dirt road for a way as it curved back and forth over tree-covered land. I finally caught a glimpse of a house off in the distance, a huge, multi-level wooden cabin with several chimneys rising out of the wood-shingle roof. Off to one side stood a barn with various trucks parked outside its two giant doors. I recognized the scent of horses close by.

  Dain pulled up near the other trucks. Warm, sun-drenched air hit my skin when I opened the truck door.

  Back home, in San Francisco, most of the city would still be covered in fog.

  I didn’t miss it.

  Three males strolled out from the barn and greeted us with friendly smiles. Dain and Jessy shook hands all around and introduced me to Les, Sky, and Denny before shuffling me off toward the large porch and big, wooden double doors of the house. A dark-haired male opened the door as we set foot on the first step.

  “Brenin,” said Dain. The two males shook hands and Brenin gave Jessy a warm, one-armed hug.

  “How ya doin’, Jessy?

  “I’m doing just fine, thanks. Your dad’s expecting us.”

  Dad? Well, of course Gunner would have offspring. He was their Alpha male, which meant he also had a mate—an Alpha female—because, according to Jessy, that was how other packs worked.

  For some reason I didn’t understand, or didn’t want to delve into the reasons why, knowing that Gunner had a mate stung more than a little.

  “Brenin, this is Simone. We used to work together up in San Francisco.”

  Smile.

  I tried, but it didn’t feel right. A strange pressure squeezed my heart as I looked at the young male, whose face was so similar to his father’s.

  Smile and hold out your hand. Act normal.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Brenin.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” The scowl he wore said the exact opposite.

  He shook my hand firmly and let go quickly. The warm rush that ran through me when Gunner had taken my hand hadn’t happened with Brenin. And...meeting me wasn’t a pleasure. The pitch of his voice, the quick release of my hand, the way his eyes seemed to bore right through my skin—he did not want me there.

  My heart sped up as my flesh prickled.

  This is a mistake. I never should’ve come here.

  Run. Run now.

  As if by involuntary response, my foot took a step back.

  No. Stop. I’m done running.

  An electrical charge tingled across my skin, heated my blood, and made me gasp.

  Gunner?

  Slowly, I slid my eyes to the right...and there he was.

  Gunner. Alpha male of the Comfort pack. The male who had suddenly taken up so much space in my brain—and in my heart—was so close I could almost touch him.

  The little voice inside my head that had urged me to run suddenly wanted nothing to do with leaving. I tried to speak, even opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  Say something.

  All I could do was stand there and stare. Take in all the little things about him I’d missed the first time we’d met.

  He stared back at me with those intense, bright green eyes. Heat bloomed across my face and I forced myself to break eye contact. His hair was damp and finger-combed back, as if he’d just stepped from a shower. A pale green shirt covered his amazingly broad shoulders. He’d rolled up the long sleeves, giving me a nice view of his heavily muscled forearms. Faded jeans covered his hips and hugged thighs that might have been as big as my waist. I let my gaze drift down past his knees and calves to his perfectly beautiful bare feet.

  Stay. Right. Here.

  I traced my way back up his body. His luminescent eyes locked on mine and froze me in place. When Gunner looked at me, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in the world.

  “Simone.” His deep voice rumbled.

  “Gunner.” His name left my lips on a sigh.

  Something about him steadied me.

  Excited me.

  Scared me.

  All at the same time.

  “Are you...feeling a little better?”

  He’d seen me at my worst. I’d been filthy. Completely disheveled. A walking disaster. He’d been there, at my bedside, when I’d fought my nightmares.

  “Yes, yes, I’m better. I’m okay. Thank you.”

  And I was. I felt stronger simply being near him—near his strength and power. The calming, Alpha vibe coming off him helped me feel safe—feel that what I was about to expose was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

  Then he smiled.

  His mouth curved up, his plump lips opening enough to flash his perfect white teeth, framed by his silver goatee. The simple movement transformed his stern face into something so incredibly handsome I couldn’t stop the sigh that seemed to leak out of me, slow and sweet. When I breathed in, it was as if I hadn’t taken a real breath for days. Every muscle in my body relaxed. My stomach unknotted and though a cool breeze drifted over my skin, something inside of me heated up, causing me to break out in goosebumps.

  Gunner licked his lips as his chest expanded. His eyes sparkled with fire. A low-pitched rumbling sound vibrated the very air around me. The vibration moved through my body, all the way to my toes, and made me suck in my breath.

  “Oh...” I stepped forward as the vibration deepened.

  “Dad?”

  Gunner’s gaze flicked at his son, then back to me. And as sudden as it came on, the vibration stopped.

  Shivering, I rubbed my arms. “What...was that?”

  Gunner looked out into the yard, his brows pinched together in confusion.

  I glanced behind me to find Jessy and Dain smiling.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jessy shook her head. “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Everything’s fine. You’re going to be just fine.” She grinned.

  “Simone.” Gunner motioned with his hand. “Come on inside where we can talk. Dain, Jessy, I need to speak to Simone privately. If you’re hungry or thirsty, I’m sure Derry’s got something in the kitchen. You’re welcome to go on in.”

  “Dad.”

  “Brenin, why don’t you take them on in the house while I talk with Simone?” Gunner held his hand out to me and I didn’t hesitate to take it. Heat spread up my arm and filled my body, as if I’d slid into a warm bath.

  “Yes, sir,�
�� Brenin snapped.

  I pulled my hand free of Gunner’s. No matter how much I wanted to touch him, hold his hand, crawl into his arms, it wasn’t okay. Not with his son, at least. I glanced back and caught Brenin staring at me again, his features set hard as stone, his eyes cold.

  “I understand I’ve brought a complication into your pack and I am sorry.”

  “A complication? Yeah. You also brought danger with you.” Brenin released a wry chuckle. He looked at Gunner. “The danger, I can deal with. The complication?” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s between you and my dad.”

  Brenin turned and disappeared through the front door with Dain and Jessy following behind.

  “Gunner, I’m—”

  “First things first. You don’t need to apologize. Ever. I’m not gonna go deep in the weeds here about what kinda burr is stuck up Brenin’s butt, but he’ll get over it.” He held his hand out again. “Now, c’mon in. My office is a little more private than out here, where every other wolf can hear.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  WE PASSED THROUGH A wide hallway that led out to a living area filled with leather couches and chairs. The entire house looked like a rustic cabin magazine photo spread for millionaires: huge, high wooden-beam ceilings, rough, weathered wood, and rock walls and fireplaces, with hardwood and slate tile floors accented with colorful, Southwestern-style rugs, not only on the floors, but also hung on the walls.

  A door closed behind me with a soft click. Beautiful leather furniture filled the office, arranged around a massive, dark mahogany desk where papers and pens, books, and files lay scattered in a disorderly order only Gunner could appreciate. A pair of black-framed glasses lay in the middle of the papers. Fully stocked bookshelves lined the entire wall directly behind the desk. Off to the right side, a door led into a bathroom, though all I could see from where I stood were dark granite countertops, a sink, and a mirror that reflected a tiled wall.

  Above the small, rock fireplace at the left of the room were ribbons of white, blue, and red, carefully protected behind glass in wooden frames. I stepped closer. Other frames held ticket stubs to football, baseball, and basketball games, as well as various rodeos. One large frame directly above the fireplace held three rows of movies tickets arranged on top of a picture of the Death Star from Star Wars. I didn’t bother trying to count how many tickets there were. I’d never seen the movies, but somebody had—multiple times. I turned and smiled. Gunner’s hands were in his pockets as he looked back at me.

  “My daughter wanted to be Princess Leia.”

  Daughter. Of course he’d have a daughter. And I wasn’t completely sure, but I thought the first three Star Wars movies came out before I was born.

  I turned back to the wall, blinking away silly tears that seemed to rush up on me.

  Gunner walked past me to the wall and looked up at the frames. “I’d saved all of these in a box. Tabitha framed ’em and hung ’em up on the wall, right before she moved out and got herself mated.”

  Closed in Gunner’s space, I smelled him all around me: smoky leather with a touch of lemon. My mouth watered as I breathed him in. He stood with his back to the fireplace, just looking at me.

  Once his eyes found mine, I could hardly breathe. What was it about him that I...wanted? Needed?

  Everything.

  “Simone,” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “I...need to know...”

  “Wait.” I held out my hand. His warm hand engulfed mine immediately, my fingers barely curling around the edge of his palm. A questioning look crossed his face. A heated rush traveled up my arm and throughout my body, leaving me giddy. “Do you feel that?”

  He glanced down and stared at our joined hands. The short hairs on his arms came to attention as goosebumps swept his flesh. I traced the fingers of my other hand up the fine, soft hair of his arm.

  “You do.” I smiled. “That’s never happened to me before. I feel...” Hot. On fire. I swallowed. “Warm.” Safe.

  “Holy...” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” His green eyes searched my face as if he understood why we were having this reaction to each other and was waiting for me to figure it out. His lips parted and one word croaked out on a whisper. “Why?”

  “Why? I...don’t know.” My face tingled with heat. I slipped my hand from his but didn’t let go. I turned his hand palm up, studied it with my fingertips—traced the rough callouses at the base of each finger, oddly fascinated by the coarse texture of his skin, strangely captivated by the need to touch this male.

  “No, I mean...” He slowly pulled his hand from mine and cleared his throat again. “Tell me why you’re asking for sanctuary.”

  “Oh.” I closed my eyes as my mother’s words fought to shake my resolve.

  Disgraced. Ashamed. Humiliated.

  Someone no pack would want. Not now, at least.

  “I...” Dishonored my mother. No. “I was...” Looking into Gunner’s eyes, I straightened my spine as the only words that fit rolled right off my tongue, “I was tortured. Mutilated.” Betrayed.

  “Tortured.” His green gaze lost its softness as his face turned to stone. His dark brows came down as he growled. “Mutilated.”

  I took a step back, then held my ground.

  Be strong. Brave.

  I nodded. “Yes.” Grasping the hem of the blouse Jessy had loaned me, I lifted it up over my head. Gunner’s eyes widened as I unhooked the tiny clasp of the bra and let it slide open to reveal my breasts. Those same bright eyes narrowed as the sight of my brands registered in his brain.

  “Ah...fuck...” His brows formed a crease in his smooth forehead. A low growl filled my ears and vibrated at the base of my neck. “Say his name.”

  The moment of truth.

  I still had time to walk away.

  Say his name.

  Once said out loud, I could never take it back. Not with my small amount of honor intact.

  Say his name.

  I’d spend the rest of my life running.

  Say his name.

  I could never trust.

  Say it now.

  Never know love.

  “Say his name, Simone. I gotta hear that fucker’s name from your lips.”

  Angry tears burned my eyes as I spit out the words. “Rule Arawn.”

  Gunner’s eyes flashed with heat. He stared silently for a moment before speaking again. “Why?”

  “So the world would know I belong to him.”

  Gunner’s upper lip curled, flashing a huge set of fangs.

  Did he recognize me as another Alpha’s property? Would he scold me? Tell me I dishonored my pack by running? Send me home?

  He stepped closer. Leaned in, so close I could see the darker specks of forest green in his bright eyes.

  “He...branded you.” It came out as a low, whispered growl.

  It wasn’t a question, because obviously, he was looking right at my ugly brands, but his statement seemed odd, as if he already knew what he would see and whose name I would speak.

  He reached out, hesitated as he gazed into my eyes. His lips parted. A shallow breath stirred the hair around my face. He seemed to understand the abuse Rule had inflicted upon me and wished to be as cautious and careful with me as he possibly could. If the situation were different, I’d smile and extend him an invitation to touch me. But this was my new reality. There was nothing remotely sexual about the reason why I stood topless in front of this gentle male. With a slight nod, I granted him permission.

  He cupped my breasts in his big, warm, rough hands as if they were delicate, shiny soap bubbles.

  I didn’t flinch, shy away, or even try to hide. With heat rushing through me, cementing me to the floor, I couldn’t even move.

  Strange. Only a few days ago, the thought of any male even glancing at my breasts or any part of my body caused bile to rise in my throat. But Gunner...I wanted Gunner to touch them, to caress them, to kiss them—to be tender and gentle and see past the ugliness. However, by the expression on his hand
some face, I knew even though he held the weight of my breasts in each hand, he didn’t really see them at all. He might’ve been studying my kneecaps. My breasts were nothing more than two mounds of tissue and all he saw were the ugly scars burned deep into my flesh.

  His thumbs ran over the shiny, raised R-shaped marks before he looked up into my eyes.

  “Simone... ” His jaw clenched as he lost his words.

  “I’m okay. They don’t hurt anymore.”

  He swallowed hard, and took a breath. “There is one more.”

  “Yes.” I pointed down between my legs and nervously cleared my throat as I whispered, “Here.”

  His hands fell away as his gaze drifted down, then back up to lock with mine. A darker shade of green danced in his eyes like angry fire. He turned away from me, his hands clasped tight behind his head as he looked to the ceiling. Anger rolled off his frame in waves.

  “Do you need to see that brand also?” I backed away a step and reached for the waistband of my borrowed yoga pants. He cursed under his breath as he turned back to me and gently grasped my wrist before I had my thumbs hooked over the edge. He shook his head slowly from side to side.

  “No.” The word came out hard. Choked off. “I...I don’t.”

  My stomach roiled and knotted as a wave of nausea swept through me, making me slightly dizzy.

  “Okay.” My hands shook as I brought them up and fumbled with the tiny closure of my borrowed bra. I took one deep breath after another, clearing my head.

  “Ah fuck...” His voice, low and thick, sounded as if he were choking rather than cursing.

  “It’s okay, Gunner.” I pulled the tee over my head. “I’m not in any pain.”

  Liar.

  No physical pain, but it would take a very long time to heal from the betrayal my mother heaped on top of my broken heart.

  “I’m okay.” I repeated the words not only for Gunner, but for myself. I had to keep saying it. I’d made it out. I was alive.

  He shook his head back and forth, as if seeing my brands with his own eyes was more than he could handle. The first time I’d seen them, they were raw and blistered, a strange, purplish-red color that scabbed over and due to my wolf heritage, healed very quickly. Much too quickly for Rule’s purposes.