Moonlight Desire: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 1)

by K. R. Alexander

  He nodded, finally looking uncertain as he glanced down at his book.

  I traded from flip-flops to walking shoes and exchanged good mornings with Isaac as Kage, then Jason went off for the Jeep, which was now parked a hundred yards away at the real car park since we’d come back that morning and left it. They sang under their breaths while they walked and I remembered stifled howls of the night before.

  Why did they live here? Why weren’t all werewolves howling down the moon at their leisure in Canada?

  More questions. Plus something else: feeling sorry for them. Struggling to let go of both, I faced Isaac and very nearly overflowed with both questions and concern.

  He looked fine: hair combed, calm, quiet, offering me his gentle smile.

  I had my mouth open to ask if he was all right when I stopped.

  Instead, I’d just started to ask if he would accompany me to meet with Ellasandra when Andrew emerged from the trailer—clean shirt, freshly shaved, and with his hair damp. I interrupted myself, having the presence of mind to tell Andrew to empty his pockets.

  “Me?” Shocked. “Did you ask everyone else?”

  “How stupid do you think I am?”

  He laughed. “In a battle of wits, never give the first answer. Just like in a negotiation—never be the first to say a price.” He started to stroll away, as if he thought he’d sufficiently distracted me. He was even more handsome at his jauntiest, like he was strutting down a runway with cameras flashing.

  “Andrew.”

  He stopped, glanced at me, then Isaac, who stood silently by my shoulder.

  “Go on,” I said.

  Andrew fished around in his pockets for longer than needed. At last, he produced my mascara brush and a hair scrunchy. His eyebrows jumped at the sight of them, like someone had put them in his hands by prestidigitation.

  “Moon strike me,” Andrew murmured. “You never know what a modern bloke might be carrying.”

  “Right. Were you going to keep those in your man purse?” I held out my hand.

  Andrew placed the mascara tube in it, making a point of stroking my wrist all the way to my fingertips. The touch was burning, tingling to the soles of my feet with a strange eroticism considering what should have been a normal exchange. Maybe it was the slow way he felt my skin, or the eye contact all the time he touched me.

  “And?” I kept myself stiff, glaring back at him.

  Andrew didn’t give up the hair tie. He pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed, then opening them slightly to roll back in his head as he shuddered.

  “Oh, Moon,” he murmured. “Moon, yes. Oh, Cassia darling, yes…” Another shiver, breathing quickly.

  Slowly, only gradually focusing his eyes, he withdrew the scrunchy from his nose and slipped it onto my thumb as I still stood with my hand out. He stroked the back of my hand, lazy and sensual, while his gaze flicked up from our fingers to my eyes.

  Burning, breathing a bit too fast, I couldn’t force myself to break the contact. On the contrary, I longed to move toward him.

  He held my gaze as long as he could while he lowered his head over my hand. At last he lost eye contact to touch his mouth to my fingers, lips around my nails, his hot tongue caressing skin under them where nerve endings were concentrated. I ached to slide my fingers into his mouth—on the verge of it—but bit my cheek and remained rigid. I knew I was flushed. And it wasn’t from the embarrassment—other than having an audience for the event.

  Andrew kissed my fingertips, then straightened and walked away, joining in the earlier song about a wolf wandering in a willow grove.

  Uncomfortably aware of how much my chest was rising and falling, I muttered, “Thanks,” to Isaac.

  “For what?” He cocked his head. His expression was just as mild as it had been before. I loved how secure he was.

  “For backing me up. I don’t think he would have taken me seriously enough to give my stuff back if you hadn’t been here. Thank you.”

  Isaac nodded. “Anything.”

  Just the one word, yet the way he said it, the nature of it, wasn’t helping me get my composure back. Having trouble shaking the feelings conjured from Andrew’s touch, I faced Isaac.

  “I was going to ask, would you accompany me to the meeting with the druid this evening? I don’t want to overwhelm her, but one or two of you. You’ll be able to fill her in on what’s happening on your side and maybe we can start putting a bigger pattern together with her help. You seem to be better with humans than the others.”

  “Thank you.” Another nod. “I will be honored. Any ally would be welcome right now. We’re grateful to you for what you’re doing, Cassia. You didn’t have to be here.”

  I looked up to his green eyes. I was no shrimp, about five-six, but he was awfully tall. The way he said my name, somehow, was as magical as his unflappable demeanor and that word, anything. I wanted to hug him. It had already been a long trip.

  I sighed. “I only hope I can help. At least we’re on a trail. Let me get my bag and I’ll join you at the car.”

  But Isaac waited and offered his arm to escort me back to a real trail in the woods and on to the car park beside the river. He smiled as he did so, letting me know he knew he was being ironic. He understood our living in a modern age.

  I returned the smile and took his arm to walk with him. Again, I very nearly asked if he was okay, about what had happened the night before, was that him, would it happen again?

  I said, “Should we be concerned that someone could discover the caravan while we’re away and tow it for being illegally parked on government property?”

  Isaac shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  That’s what I’d thought before. “I’ll just … run back and get my overnight bag.”

  I grabbed it, locked the caravan, and hurried out again to Isaac.

  Now a simple lunch and sightseeing with this pack to look forward to until afternoon tea.

  Chapter 17

  “How would you know, corpse-nose?” Andrew laughed. “You’re guessing.”

  “You’re going to be the one with the dead nose in a minute,” Kage growled.

  “He’s right this time,” Jason said, one hand on Kage’s shoulder as we walked, keeping Kage moving forward rather than veering off to punch Andrew. “That is a Subway.”

  Zar nodded. “Down here to the left.”

  We were walking up the street in a coastal town known for surfing and a filming location from the movie The Witches, among other things. And we were looking for lunch.

  I’d already voiced my opinion but, as everyone turned left, spilling from sidewalk to street without concern for traffic as they avoided human tourists, I tried again.

  “Why are you looking for fast food? Can we get one decent meal on this trip? I didn’t come around the world for Saucy and a Subway sandwich.”

  “What did you come for?” Jason asked.

  No one else seemed interested once they could smell a meal.

  “To visit my sister and have a vacation before starting work at the end of August.” And meet Englishmen. How thick was I that that almost slipped out? They were intense enough when I wasn’t encouraging them. And why? What was the interest when they didn’t even like humans?

  “Is your sister as fetching as you?” Andrew asked.

  My point exactly.

  “She’s married,” I said.

  “And that did something to her appearance?”

  I sighed.

  They crashed their way into Subway and out of July sun on Newquay’s Bank Street, then waited impatiently, arguing since they had to stand in a “queue.”

  Once the six actually got up there, things went from bad to scary, almost everyone talking at once, snapping at the bewildered youths behind the counter.

  “Why do you put one tiny row of meatballs on these things? It’s supposed to be a meatball sandwich.”

  “Get off my bloody foot, Zar.”

  “What’s the one called with ham
and salami?”

  “Moon curse you, Jed, you were the last in. Back off.”

  “Is there one with fish? Steak and fish?”

  “Can you keep the peppers and onions off the steak and cheese? Bloody daft putting onions on a sandwich called ‘steak and cheese.’ It’s not steak and onion and cheese.”

  “Chicken tikka with the meatball marinara. Can you do that in one? No, wait, what about the beef melt with meatball in one?”

  “I told you to fucking move, vulture-face!”

  The only one who actually seemed to be trying to place a real order by the time Kage grabbed Jed’s shirt and shoved him against the glass barrier above the sandwich bar was Isaac. He didn’t appear troubled by what was going on around him. The employees he was addressing, however, did. Hands reached for phones. Other patrons were clearing out.

  “Enough!” I shouted as Jed twisted and Kage caught his fist coming at his face. “Kage, let him go! All of you get out! Now! Give me your wallet. Go!”

  It took a minute, and I thought Kage or Jed might take a swing at me next, but, again, they did as I said.

  My heart was hammering by the time the place was empty. The two young women and man behind the counter all stared at me, wide-eyed. But no one seemed to have actually called the cops.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said, clutching Kage’s wallet. Deep breaths. “It’s been a … horrible weekend. Sorry. I’ll just order for everyone and take it to go.”

  Was Subway always to go? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in one.

  They nodded, glancing past me to the glass and sidewalk beyond, where Jason and Zar were breaking up a fight. What had made me think coming out in public with all six could possibly be a good idea? Or even a tolerable one?

  “Okay. I would like six foot-longs on the cheese bread with the steak from the steak and cheese, and also the meatball marinara. Provolone cheese on top. No vegetables or condiments. All the same. Can you do that? And a six-inch Spicy Italian and a bottle of water. Thank you.”

  They set to and, with all three working on the order, it was ready in no time, even with heating the six large sandwiches.

  I customized my own, paid with purple twenty pound notes—I love their cash—from Kage’s wallet, and carried out four bags.

  Everyone had settled down by the time I emerged. Yet they sprang for me exactly like my dad’s old hunting dogs when he used to rattle the kibble bin. At least those dogs had been well trained.

  “Wait!” I clutched bags to my chest, arms around them.

  They stopped.

  “What are you going to do? Stand here on the sidewalk and eat? Let’s get to that park and the grass. You can all spread out and not have to look at each other.”

  I led the way to the grassy park overlooking a public beach, which was down long flights of stairs. They shifted impatiently as I stopped to read a plaque commemorating a visit to this spot by The Beatles. Andrew offered to carry the bags.

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” I asked. “Or was I right that you think I’m stupid?”

  He lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Always worth a try.”

  People were out on grass or benches, eating ice cream cones, taking pictures, or leaning back in the sun.

  There were only a few shady patches from small trees. I needed one. I burned easily with my spring complexion and sunscreen hadn’t made the cut into my overnight bag.

  I passed out their sandwiches, one by one, and started for the only nearby shade with my own. Zar had already flopped down there. I would have joined him but I had reason to suspect he wouldn’t be his usual charming self with lunch in his hands.

  I also hated to give up on shade. This was the only near patch with a view by the edge. I was the tourist. Also the one who took a long time over lunch; enjoying the spot.

  “Zar? would you mind if I shared your shade?” I smiled at him.

  Zar looked up from unwrapping, then around as if surprised to notice he was in shade. Jed, who’d been last to snatch his sandwich for some reason and was just starting away from me, stalked over. Growling.

  Zar growled back but fled, retreating to sit on the low wall along the sidewalk.

  “Jed, really…” I started.

  He was already walking away, throwing out his hand in a There it is gesture to indicate the shade he’d cleared for me. Did he think I’d be grateful?

  By Jed’s standards, maybe it was a sweet gesture?

  I sat in the shade. Sunglasses, royal blue ocean, green grass, sea breeze rippling enough to be pleasant on the blistering day. Not enough to tear my meal out of my hands. And I’d thought to pull my hair back this time.

  I took another picture to text Melanie. A bite of sandwich, the photo still just sending, when Andrew flopped down beside me.

  I looked around, startled. “Something wrong?”

  “Only that we were previously kept apart by distance of summer grass. Now, everything is right.” He lay on his side behind me, legs stretched to my left, propped on one elbow to look up at me on my right. So close his abs touched the small of my back.

  “No, I mean…” I narrowed my eyes as I tried to look into his, also shielded by sunglasses. “You did not already finish eating.” The photo delivered and I dropped my phone in my bag.

  “Why would you say that?” He leaned in to touch his nose to my bare arm, inhaling.

  “Meatball sandwiches must be the hardest kind in the world to eat. No way.”

  “A skeptic.” He smiled. “I like that.”

  “For a people who don’t like anyone by them while they eat, you certainly don’t allow others the same personal space.”

  “No worries.” He looked up at me over sunglasses, his cheek touching the curve of my elbow as I chewed. “You’re human. You like it. You would offer me a bite if you were in the mood. Or maybe you are in the mood?” Arching an eyebrow.

  I swallowed. “So you know humans well from your hotel work?”

  “You’d be amazed,” he murmured, so soft I could hardly hear in a gust of wind. He kissed the crook of my elbow. A soft, warm touch like this perfect day.

  I didn’t pull away. I should have. Yet I wouldn’t have minded if he kept going all the way down my arm. Wouldn’t have minded another chance to slip my fingers in his mouth.

  “Will you tell me something?” I asked. “With all that wisdom.”

  “I’ll tell you anything.” His voice remained soft, smooth as butter. “I’ll tell you all my secrets if you’ll tell me yours. I’ll tell you what I like if you’ll tell me. I might even tell you the truth. Careful, though…”

  “Why are you all so interested in me? Don’t you have eligible females among your own kind?”

  “Not many. But it hardly matters. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  “Believe it or not, guys who are only interested in me for my looks are a huge turn-off. I don’t need one more male seeing me as an object rather than a personality worth knowing. You know nothing about me. And, unless you actually want to and are interested in me as a person, you can back off.”

  “That’s how you think of me.” He curled closer, bringing in his knees and pressing his hips against mine, at the same time leaning his head and shoulders back into grass, smiling up at me. “I’m not a person. I’m a pretty face. Such is the, uh … appalling fate of beautiful people, darling. No need to be hypocrites here. Tell me something about yourself and we’ll start to get to know what’s behind doors number one and two.”

  I ate while he talked, trying to think. He eased tighter against me and I felt more than his hipbones through his cargo shorts. What was unsettling me now, though, was that he was right.

  Was I thinking of all of them in terms of their good looks? No. I really did feel that I was already getting to know them. Even if I shouldn’t.

  But not Andrew.

  Andrew was indeed a pretty face. Which he knew. That was part of it, wasn’t it? He used and flaunted his beauty where the others di
d not. Maybe Kage some. Where Kage had an I’m too cool for this attitude, Andrew was inviting.

  “Okay,” I said after a long pause and eating. Something about me. “I’ve been a witch all my life, trained by my mother, then my grandmother after my mom died. But I’d never met a werewolf until your pack. So you have the edge. Tell me something about yourself.”

  I reached for a paper napkin that I had between my knees to keep it from blowing away. Andrew stopped me, catching my hand in his.

  “I love mustard,” he said, drawing my fingers to his face. “Most wolves don’t.” That was his secret? As he lowered his face to lick mustard off my skin, he kept eye contact for a long time, breaking it when he finally turned down too much—as he had outside the trailer.

  I shivered at the touch of his tongue.

  What about keeping a bit of distance? And, if I wasn’t going to bother about that, what about Isaac? What about Zar?

  I had no business flirting with any of them. Much less all of them.

  Still, I did not withdraw my hand as Andrew sucked the tips of my fingers—his mouth hot and wet and making me feel the same. He rocked his hips against me and I thought of leaning down, imagining the feel of his mouth on mine.

  Instead, I gave him the end of my sandwich. I was still hoping for an actual English tea later—maybe a scone.

  Andrew did not object to the peppers or other vegetables. He gulped the last quarter of the sandwich and went back to smiling lazily up at me while I drank from my water bottle.

  He trailed his fingers down my left leg from my shorts to my knee and back up. He didn’t try to slide them below, but along the hem, across my thigh.

  I capped the bottle and looked from the aqua view down at him. “Aren’t you concerned about this?”

  “About what?” Rolling his hips, curling himself tighter around me to kiss my leg. “Imagining your fantasies of my making love to you?”

  “About what the others might do to you after this? It’s not like we don’t have an audience.” Which was bothering me, feeling disloyal to Isaac in particular for having accepted the necklace, even if just for the trip.