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

by K. R. Alexander

  I found a gash on his forearm and cuts around his face, including a slash above his left eye and a bleeding left ear. I dabbed these off and held the cloth in place against his arm until bleeding stopped. It all appeared superficial. Not exactly a broken arm.

  As I rinsed the cloth the water stopped.

  Still bottles of water for in the morning and I could use the toilet once more, but…

  “Getting out of here not a moment too soon,” I told him as I returned.

  Jason nosed my wrist.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d been petting him—how he’d been soliciting it—until that fight had erupted the moment I’d turned my back. With Jed, of course, having watched the whole time, waiting for his chance to commit a murder while that was supposed to be what we were preventing.

  “Did you want Jed to pummel you?” I asked, holding the washcloth over his eye.

  Jason pinned back his ears.

  “What then? I wasn’t thinking about distributing attention, but I bet you were. Is it Kage?”

  His ears eased forward.

  “You want to make Kage jealous? I don’t think Kage sees you as a threat when it comes to me. You could stay in here all night and he’d probably not be terribly bothered. Do you want him to be jealous of me? Not you?” I sat back, removing the washcloth from his face.

  He cocked his head.

  “You know that’s a horrible idea, right? Deliberately trying to provoke jealousy in anyone is first of all not a good sign of a healthy relationship and, second, not a healthy thing to do around here in particular.”

  Jason rested his chin on my knee.

  I held the cloth against the oozing cut over his eye, glad he wasn’t too scared of me now to do this.

  I didn’t say anything about the magic or humans.

  Soon shivering, I remembered last night: wretched cold, lack of sleep.

  “You’ll live. But do you want to stay in here to guarantee you’ll make it through the night?” My teeth chattered.

  I shut the window looking out to the noise zone and the tiny one over the bed. This left one for ventilation but the place hadn’t aired out much. I couldn’t bring myself to close them all.

  Jason lay on the floor with his back to me, chin on his paws, while I changed and quickly brushed my teeth. Since I’d gone when we’d gotten back, I could wait to pee again until morning. I hoped.

  I started out with socks on this time and pulled up the wool blanket and my hoodie as an extra cover.

  “Okay.” When I lay down, I slid over on the bed as far as I could without crowding the wall. The space was tight, seeming more so in the dark.

  The great creature leapt with surprising lightness onto the platform, pinning the duvet against me. I resettled as he tried to turn in a circle, hunched against the ceiling that I’d hit my head on. He gave it up after one awkward turn and flopped alongside me to lick his forearm.

  I stroked his unhurt right ear, on my side to face him, already warming when I pressed in close and buried my hands and face against his ruff. He smelled like pine and earth and wild places, though we weren’t in a pine forest.

  He heaved a sigh and stretched out his neck, resting his head against the edge of the pillow. I remembered how disconcerting it had been this morning even to look into his eyes or see him close up. It seemed like a long time ago.

  How strange this vacation was. Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Already in Wonderland? Or was this only the fall?

  Cream tea. I’d had a real English cream tea. And I must be the only human woman in the world right now in bed with a gay werewolf.

  My right arm throbbed.

  I hung onto Jason’s fur, inhaled, and noticed how quiet camp was. Like a grave.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to talk with Zar about London wolves or Beech Packs, or any thoughts from him on the idea that wolves could be doing this to wolves. He was the one who might have the most general insights. He should know if there had ever been other cases like this. But I still wasn’t feeling kindly disposed toward Zar.

  As to talking with Jed tomorrow, now I wasn’t feeling kindly toward him either. I should have known better—even if Jason had meant to be a fool. I shouldn’t have sat there stroking him like a mindless human with her pet dog.

  Such thoughts trailed past as I lay there, already drifting off.

  I should have been glad to think of my freedom tomorrow. I should have looked forward to seeing the back of them: returning to Melanie and getting on with my vacation. Should have. Instead, I dreaded having to say goodbye.

  Chapter 24

  Tall spires of black buildings, snapping teeth and running paws, a field bathed in blood, flash of fangs, blistering smoke. A wave washed away the standing stones, turning to blood, filling eyes, mouth, lungs. A jagged howl ripped through the night.

  Something touched my nose and I jumped awake, gasping. My arms were clasped around a hot bearskin rug. I was covered in sweat, yet trembling. Fur and warm breath pressed my face.

  Jason panted in the dark, hot and nervous.

  I pushed myself into a sitting position, careful about the ceiling. I peeled off the sweaty socks and rolled up my pajama bottoms, then fanned the tank top from my midriff.

  The black outline of Jason lay there on the edge of the bed like the Sphinx, head up, eyes closed, still panting.

  I pried the window open beside me, welcoming the breeze and cool night. Not nearly so cold as last night.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around my knees. I dropped my head against them.

  He touched my arm with his muzzle, whiskers tickling my skin.

  “Vivid dreams are a blessing of the seer. That’s what my grandmother used to say. ‘Blessed with the sight, do not expect limits to your gift and you will find none.’ So much of my education with her was about sight. And so much of all my education was about … not using it.” I paused, swallowing, and sat back.

  Once I felt cooled enough, I settled into the duvet with the wool blanket and my hoodie pushed aside.

  Jason’s head remained over me in the dark.

  “It’s so quiet tonight,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you with magic. I don’t use magic in my normal life. It was all ‘gift’ and ‘blessing’ and ‘connection to Goddess’ from Nana on the one hand, while the other hand bore the constant refrain, ‘Hide it, hide it, hide it.’ If we’re so blessed … why are we hiding? If we’re so divine … why are we ashamed? Because that’s what it feels like. Like hiding a crime—a heritage that could destroy you.

  “I was ready to stop before this—commit to living mundane. Looking forward to it, in fact. I would hold a place in my heart for those memories, that time with my mother and grandmother, learning with two great witches, but set it aside. Grow out of magic, if you like. And, when I have my own children, pray to Goddess they have no natural talent whatsoever and I never bring up the subject with them. A normal, mundane family in the normal world.”

  I sighed and shut my eyes in the dark, still speaking in a whisper. “No one had ever asked me to do anything with my magic before this. I mean, a couple of lectures, being part of support groups. But … this… I thought I wanted to help because I felt horrible about what was happening to you. If anyone came to me, any group to help people or animals… What are we here for if we can’t do something for each other and our planet? If we can’t leave something a bit better than how we found it when we came into this lifetime?”

  I looked to the starlit window just above us. “But I might have been wrong. I may only be out here now for selfish reasons. Because no one had ever asked me to really be a witch before. At most, a magic teacher. Not a witch. Never in my life.”

  Jason rested his chin on my chest and I stroked his head behind the cuts.

  “Your pack was brave to reach out. Even if some didn’t agree to do it—and the methods used by the two who came to recruit me were asinine. I’m only sorry … I haven’t been much help.” I rubbed the so
ft tip of his slightly rounded ear between thumb and forefinger. “If you can find wolves in London, whether they’re killers or not, maybe they’ll be able to help you more.”

  Jason moved his head off my chest to stretch his neck on the pillow, his nose in my hair. I rolled on my side to face him, arm across his back, but I was afraid to sleep again, and I lay there a long time, thinking of eyeless, bled out, staked bodies covered in gasoline.

  Werewolves and human druids. Both part of the magical community, yet totally different. Both living lives removed from humans to some extent, closer to nature, keeping to their own.

  Who would want both dead? City-dwelling wolves who hated the old ways?

  Or humans.

  Casters? Why?

  Mundane humans who had found out? Who knew, somehow, how to find wolves? Top predator humans. Humans who had already caused the extinction of hundreds of species. Confused humans who might have superstitions playing in to make them stake hearts and carve out eyes—make sure their job was done.

  I found that idea more terrifying than the thought that there were werewolves living in London.

  At last, exhaustion won.

  I woke in gloom to cold and songbirds encouraging the morning. And an apparent man beside me in bed.

  Jason had changed into his skin in the night. This was unsettling, bringing on a disquieting What did I do last night? feeling as if I’d been on a bender.

  Indeed, my head ached, my arm felt like a horse had kicked it, and I was stiff and achy all over—hungry, tired, mouth sticky. Dehydration I suspected was some of that. Ironic since I really had to pee.

  The trailer remained so dark, Jason was mere profile and soft details like a sketch with very little pressure used on the pencils. All the same, that profile was beautiful, elegant. Not as solidly built as Kage, not as elfin and unbelievable as Andrew, but in between the two.

  Gray outside the windows foretold we had an hour before sunrise. Even so, time to get moving.

  Jason lay on his back, looking at the ceiling, listening to birdsongs. Maybe more? How well could they hear? I detected the river only faintly in the background, birds close, as if in the trailer with us. Nothing more.

  I turned my face into the pillow to yawn. “You okay? I don’t see any blood.” Looking at him again and rubbing my eyes.

  “Cassia?” He also turned his head, bringing our noses close as he looked at me. “What do the standing stones mean?”

  I shivered, thinking of my first vision scrying for them and the stone circles in my dreams. Until the dreams, I’d almost forgotten the stones through this treasure hunt.

  “What?”

  “Why did you keep talking about standing stones?” Jason whispered.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t mention stones.” Or … had I? No … I did recall going rather maudlin last night, waking from nightmares. But not a word about stones.

  Jason looked at the ceiling again, brows creased. “You did. You kept saying, ‘We’ll just find the standing stones.’ Or similar. Off and on all night.”

  “Was that before or after me waking up all sweaty and giving you a witch sob story about needing to give up magic?”

  He looked at me again and his expression cleared to a soft smile. “I don’t remember any ‘sob story.'”

  “I dreamed about the stones. I’ll look. I should scry again this morning. I was so distracted by the time we found her, I didn’t think to ask Ellasandra about stone circles.”

  “You can ask Zar. Maybe it’s still important. But I can tell you that you’re wrong about one thing. You’ve been a big help. We’re going to keep tracking the murderer and we have something to go on now with your help.”

  “I can do better.” I turned my face into the pillow again. “Sorry about last night. Keeping you up and … I don’t know why I started oversharing.”

  “You didn’t. You just don’t have anyone to talk to. I like to listen, so it works out.”

  “I have Melanie. And friends at home. I didn’t need to go all therapy on you.”

  “Does your sister know you’re a witch?” He waited, then, “Because that’s not really the same…”

  Living lies. No true friends. Or any other kinds of relationships. I’d never even had a lover who’d known what I was. Not that I’d had loads of those. But I’d cared enough in a couple cases that each lie I’d let drop carried a little bereavement.

  “Could you hand me my water bottle?” I asked. “And what about you? You’re okay?”

  I looked at him as he leaned to grab the water. In dim light, I saw only pink marks above his eye and on his arm. Healed wounds that looked like they wouldn’t even leave scars.

  “I had to change to get then to close up.”

  “Your shape-changing heals wounds?”

  “Sure, we reform, don’t we? Broken bones are a problem. And serious wounds make shifting impossible, or deadly.”

  “I didn’t know.” I drank, rinsing my mouth out, wishing I could spit, and offered him the bottle. “Is that why you all act so invincible?”

  Jason smiled. “Wolves can be killed like any other mortal. Only we’ll take more damage on our way down—and can potentially heal so rapidly that daft legends like silver bullets get started. If you’re proper torn up, though, and try to shift, throwing your insides around, you’ll end up losing some. We’re still only mortal. Or we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

  “But the way they’ve been killed? If it’s not necessary to take those steps to kill a werewolf…” I shook my head. “Maybe I should ask Zar more about legends and myths. Who would think they needed to stake a werewolf and a druid like vampires?”

  “Someone … ignorant.” He looked away.

  I took a slow breath. “I also thought of mundanes doing this but … let’s hold off on that. There are other possibilities to explore. Even the idea that mundanes could find your packs … hard to imagine.”

  And if they could? If they knew how to track and kill and protect themselves against werewolves?

  “It’s best to focus on what we do know,” I said. “Not go off in random directions.”

  “That’s how Diana talks about the Beeches.” Jason sighed and dragged a hand over his face. “But one’s got to be right. It’s either shifters or humans. It’s not unicorns.”

  “What about undead? Those stakes…”

  “There are no vampires around us.”

  “There are ‘no wolves in London’ either. Let’s take this piece by piece.”

  “Touché.” He dropped his hand over the side of the bed and grinned at me.

  “Get up so I can. We need to wake everyone and get out of here.”

  “They’re awake.” Jason rolled to sit up, hunched to avoid the ceiling. He was naked, of course. With the wool blanket slipping off him, he stretched his arms.

  “They are?”

  “Uh-huh.” He yawned and rubbed his hair back and forth. The muscles of his back and arms were so deft, so ideal, he looked like a Roman statue enhanced.

  He was on another yawn when someone knocked at the flimsy door. “Morning, princess.” Kage’s voice came clearly through the window. “We’re trying to uncurl early but didn’t want to disrupt your beauty sleep.”

  Jason walked to the door. I didn’t care much about watching him, already mad.

  “You male chauvinist pig, Kage.” I scrambled from bed in my tank and pajama bottoms to follow, slipping into flip-flops. “All you have to do is say morning and you’re ready to go.”

  But Jason waved a hand at me, unlocking the door for Kage. “He’s not talking to you.”

  I hesitated, standing against the table.

  “Missed you last night,” Kage said, stepping up as Jason opened the door.

  “You did?” Jason sounded suspicious.

  Kage was dressed in his old jeans and scuffed boots, nothing else. He kissed Jason on the mouth as he moved into the threshold.

  “Fancy you smelling like a lad
y—taking after your brother.” Kage encircled his bare waist with one arm, stepping sideways.

  Jason had started to answer when Kage yanked him off balance and Jason staggered out the door. In a flash, Kage had the door shut: wham and the whole trailer shook.

  “Kage!” I shouted.

  But one punch from outside was all Kage allowed. He opened the door, grabbed Jason’s arm, and pulled him back in with his nose streaming crimson.

  Zar was muttering out there and I caught a glimpse of Jed—who must have been the one waiting to punch Jason—in the doorway.

  “What did I tell you? ” I yelled at Kage while he slammed the door. “No more fights!”

  “That wasn’t a fight.” Kage laughed. “Jason knows how it is. Get these things over with and move on—since he wasn’t able to enjoy our night out.” Kage turned his head to lick blood off Jason’s upper lip while Jason was still blinking and dazed.

  “Did he break it?” I went for the washcloth in the sink.

  “It’s all right.” Jason breathed through his mouth.

  “Kage, what the hell is wrong with you? What kind of thing—?” I’d forgotten I had to wet the cloth from the water bottle.

  “You don’t want us fighting later,” Kage said. “And don’t want us to settle differences quickly. What do you want?”

  “No bloodshed! I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask!”

  Which Kage was still licking from Jason’s lips as it trickled unchecked from his nose. It was a bizarre sight even by standards of this trip, unsettling to watch.

  “I don’t want him to get hurt,” Kage said. “But we need a moment to clear up hard feelings or we’ll not get anything done today. You can’t show him all this favoritism and not think anyone else is going to notice.”

  “Show him favoritism!? He was hurt! He has been kind to me and I was kind in return. Maybe you should all try it if you’re jealous. And stop that! You’re not going to help by drinking his blood. It needs pressure.”

  I shoved the washcloth at Kage and he lifted that to Jason’s face instead.

  Jason had his breath back and was grinning. Also a disconcerting sight. He flinched at the touch of the washcloth, then pressed his hand over Kage’s to hold the pressure.