Moon Stalked

by Aimee Easterling

  Only, I apparently wasn’t an expert on shoes. I should have known that already. Grace had always been the one with the heightened fashion sense.

  “There’s no ‘all’ about it.” Justice’s voice was rough as he grabbed up his law texts and came to stand beside me. “It’s a 50/50 split, Honor. I’m going with you.”

  Epilogue

  Bastion’s first letter arrived an hour after he rode away in our old jalopy. He must have mailed the message days earlier, and for the first time I understood why every single one of his pen pals promptly wrote back.

  Still...it was hard not to feel bereft when Justice had gotten in the car to leave alongside Grace and Bastion. “Just for a week. Just to wrap things up at school.”

  I’d nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. Justice had spent too much time and money stretching his lawyerly muscles to give up during the home stretch.

  But Wolf Camp echoed with only me and Luke present. I had a hard time mustering much enthusiasm even when Luke surprised me later that week, presenting a long, skinny gift encircled by old Sunday comic pages.

  “It was the only wrapping paper I could find.” His eyes were warm, his voice like honey. I did my best to smile as I picked at the tape.

  Then he surprised a laugh out of me. “Please tell me you’re not planning on reusing that.”

  “No. Of course not.” I tore through Peanuts to reveal a leather scabbard. Sleek, shiny, embossed with....

  “Are those wolves?”

  “You are the slowest unwrapper in recorded history,” Luke growled. “It isn’t just a scabbard.”

  Now I was smiling for real.

  I took my time tracing embossed patterns to annoy him, but my anticipation was finally too much to avoid. The last of the newspaper fell away to reveal a well-polished sword hilt. Sliding sideways, the blade rang as it was revealed.

  “Wow.”

  My dagger and guns had all come back to me, but I’d merely wiped away the blood, applied a coat of oil, then tucked them away in storage. Their memories were too raw to deal with. This sword, however....

  I swiped it through the air, listening to the hum of potential. “Where would I use this?”

  “You’ll need impressive weaponry if you plan to run with wolves.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Do you want it to be?”

  I found that I did. The solitude I’d sought chaffed, and I itched to stretch lupine muscles. I sheathed my sword and slid into my fur.

  Together, we spent the rest of the day exploring camp property. Luke peed on rocks and tree trunks. I belly-crawled through a culvert to bypass a highway then cooled overheated skin by splashing through a creek.

  We were no longer on Luke’s land, although we were still within his werewolf-asserted territory. The rules of skinless, I’d found, were complex and nonlinear. An alpha might be strong enough to claim miles of countryside from other werewolves even if in human terms he was only rich enough to rent.

  Luke lacked neither human funds nor werewolf power. He'd purchased property backing up on an extensive national forest, all of which other packs ceded to him. We were free to run and run and run.

  Then the breeze shifted and scent flowed across us—close, menacing.

  Wolf. Neither wild nor woelfin, but the subtly darker scent of the skinless.

  Luke growled, ruff rising. He angled his body until it was broadside before me.

  Go home. Protect yourself. His motion was an order.

  I snorted. No way was I leaving my partner alone to face a territorial invader.

  I leapt across Luke’s back and was pleased when he spun to stand beside me. Shoulder to shoulder we peered into the forest, straining to see what would emerge from the trees.

  I HOPE YOU ENJOYED Honor’s first adventure! For a sneak preview of Alpha's Hunt, simply turn the page.

  Or perhaps you’d like to join Luke as he manages a life-or-death camp for unruly shifters in the prequel short story Thirteenth Werewolf, free to newsletter subscribers. To sweeten the pot, I’ll throw in two additional werewolf novels so you don’t have to come up for air for days.

  Thank you for reading! You are why I write.

  Alpha's Hunt

  The second werewolf I’d ever seen limped out of the forest. From a distance, his scent had been wild, bitter, terrifying. But the beast himself was grizzled and bleeding from deep gashes on his chest, belly, and flank.

  The stranger was barely able to shuffle, let alone jump us. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he keeled over on the spot.

  My own lupine shoulders drifted downward. This wasn’t the terrifying skinless I’d been scared of since childhood. I’d overreacted. Just like when I first met Luke.

  I let my eyes skitter sideways, expecting the first werewolf I’d ever seen to grace me with an amused smirk. Only...Luke’s glare was so firmly fixed upon the older wolf that he seemed to have forgotten I was present. Not just his ruff but the fur along his entire back lifted up threateningly. Then the tiniest thread of a growl, more menacing for its quietness, rumbled out of his chest.

  My gaze slung forward in search of danger. The old werewolf stumbled then lurched another step forward. I cocked my head, struggling to understand how a shifter who seemed one second away from collapsing could be a danger to us both.

  Oldie might appear past his sell-by date, but I trusted Luke. So I braced my paws, preparing for battle...then whimpered as attack came not from the newcomer but from the skinless I’d come to trust.

  Earlier today, Luke had presented me with a sword, the gift rife with unspoken promises. Later, he’d accepted my refusal to be protected when the scent of werewolf came upon us. He’d padded up to stand shoulder to shoulder beside me in a show of true partnership and strength.

  Now, Luke lashed out without warning. Well, no, that’s not quite true. The old wolf barked out a bell-like tone one millisecond before Luke attacked me, the sound rubbing my nerve endings raw. In answer, Luke’s teeth clamped down on the soft flesh of my neck, drawing blood before I understood what was happening. Lightning sparked hot and electric underneath my skin.

  Words emerged inside me at the same moment, silent yet fully understandable. “Honor.” The syllables of my name reverberated in Luke’s deep baritone. “I’ll fix this.”

  I pawed at the strangeness, trying to dislodge his voice from inside me. This was new...and not particularly palatable.

  Stranger yet was hearing someone else’s words—Oldie’s?—flowing through Luke and into me. “It’s time for you to stand up and do your duty, son.”

  “Do my duty?” Luke’s rejoinder was pure fury. “You killed my brother and threatened me with death if I didn’t leave my home and family.”

  Oldie—Luke’s father—shrugged. “Changed my mind. Alpha’s prerogative.”

  “And the bite?”

  My ears perked up. My neck bled, but, strangely, the sensation was pleasurable. Like when Luke’s fingers stroked through the long fur of my shed pelt.

  Still, the old wolf had forced the bite, whatever it represented. So I growled out unity with Luke’s demand for further information. Took a step forward to match the one Luke had already taken.

  By this point, the old wolf was barely able to lift his head. But his voice in my mind was both smug and powerful. “Your sister was sufficient sword maiden for me, Luke. But you’ll need all the help you can get.”

  Rather than answering this time, Luke continued advancing upon his father. His world had narrowed, I knew, because my own sight was strangely doubled. I saw Luke before me, and I saw his father as if through Luke’s eyes.

  “A mate who’s also a sword maiden,” Oldie continued. “That will calm the pack. Especially once you beget an heir.”

  Beget? I would have raised an eyebrow if I’d been human. But the archaism slipped past me as two more skinless slunk out of the summer greenery.

  Luke hadn’t seen them. He was too intent upon his father.

  So I barke
d a warning...only to have it emerge as silent words spinning between us. “Luke, behind you!”

  And Luke understood. Didn’t glance around wildly. Just spun to face the oncoming wolves.

  THE NEWCOMERS WERE a male and a female, the former with dinner-plate paws at the end of skinny legs promising he hadn’t yet grown into his adult strength. It was the female who led, however. The female who unfolded upward into a mid-twenties woman and speared Luke with eyes as stormy blue as his own.

  This was the aforementioned sister, I guessed. Not just because of the obvious physical resemblance, but because of her greeting. A single word, full of decades of shared knowledge. “Luke.”

  Luke’s sister was naked, of course, with no pelt to shield her. That’s what it meant to be a skinless rather than a woelfin. They kept their lupine nature inside while transforming. Kept the wildness of the beast simmering behind their eyes even while walking upright.

  I’d been told that nudity was irrelevant to skinless, and this woman certainly made no effort to shield her privates. But her nakedness was far less shocking than the network of scars crisscrossing her body. It looked like she’d fallen through a razor-lined net.

  I felt rather than saw Luke wince in reaction. “Ruth.” He stepped past his father’s slumped body, making connections faster than I was able to. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have prevented this.”

  This? The scars, I guessed. Which related to their father’s mention of a sword maiden, maybe? I itched to shift upward and request further information, but it was too dangerous to share the presence of my pelt.

  While I puzzled together guesswork, Luke leaned forward as if he intended to hug his sister. But she was having none of it. Ruth straight-armed him away even as she replied.

  “That’s precisely why I didn’t call you.” Her eyes narrowed. “The pack didn’t need your help. We have an alpha, a sword maiden, and an heir.”

  With the final word, she gestured toward the young male, who was transforming into humanity far more slowly than the others had. “Or we did,” she added. “Now we just have a mess.”

  Between Luke’s failed hug and Ruth’s words, the air grew even more electric with tension. I sidled forward until my forepaws landed one inch away from Luke’s bare foot. If his family went furry and attacked him, I’d be ready to drive them back.

  Instead of attacking, though, the boy emoted as soon as his wolf fur faded and human vocal cords settled. “I’m not doing it!”

  He looked just like Luke might have fifteen years ago, before life hardened up soft edges. This had to be Michael, the newborn brother Luke had barely met before being cast out of his pack for the crime of trying to save their oldest brother from death.

  Tears glimmered on the youngster’s lower eyelids. Luke, in contrast, appeared calmer than he smelled as he confirmed my guesswork. “It’s the only way to become alpha, Michael. Do you want to be alpha?”

  For one long moment, Michael was silent. Then, he spoke through a sob. “No.”

  In the tense silence that followed, the wily old wolf leapt.

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