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

by K. R. Alexander

  “Saved your clothes,” Kage murmured in his ear, his lips also bloody. “Jed would have ripped them up. I had to get all our stuff into the Jeep and keep him out. No fighting, of course.” Giving me a quick smile: See what good wolves we are? Noticing what I was wearing for the first time, his gaze lingered on my breasts.

  “Thank you.” Jason kissed his wrist, all he could reach with the white and red mottled washcloth there, and chuckled, apparently at the pleasant image.

  “Does this not bother you, Jason?” I asked. “What he did?”

  “He had to do something,” Jason said happily. “I couldn’t have just walked out there after being in here all night. He was trying to help, like he said—clear the air quickly.”

  “Right. Helping. Well, he’s a hero, isn’t he?”

  “Come on, Cassia.” Jason’s voice was muffled, but took on a wheedling note all the same. “He didn’t mean any harm.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that. And you—” At Kage. “Get out of here and take care of him. I’ll be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”

  I locked the door the moment they were out.

  Soon after, I was dressed, packed, still angry, and wishing they were just a bit more afraid of witches. My arm ached, a purple patch on pale skin, but seemed to be all right. My head still hurt, my back was sore, and I really needed my coffee.

  I stepped out with my backpack on and the same outfit from yesterday.

  A bit of color caught my eye and I looked around to see more bluebells, along with little white and pink wildflowers I could not identify, on my step. They’d been crushed with the coming and going on that step this morning but I picked them up to poke into the mesh side pouch of my bag.

  Andrew rushed to the trailer and I stopped stiffly to face him. Zar hurried to follow. Kage and Jason, dressed, were reconnecting the trailer, which I’d thought they sorted out yesterday. Isaac was cleaning up more tire tracks. Jed leaned against that same tree, arms crossed, scowling as he watched us.

  Not Kage or Jason bringing flowers in the night. Of the rest … my money was still on Zar, yet I wondered.

  “Cassia, I have a confession to make,” Andrew said seriously as he stepped up. “I’ve got to tell you the truth. No more dodging.”

  “Okay…” I watched him suspiciously.

  Zar reached his side, bumping into him.

  Andrew took a deep breath, stealing himself. “Moon knows I should have told you sooner. I’m gay.”

  I stared at him.

  “Both of us,” Zar said.

  “Always.” Andrew threw his left arm around Zar’s shoulders.

  “Yes.” Zar nodded somberly. “Years and years. You know … poets and … I write songs.”

  “He loves it when I braid his hair,” Andrew said.

  More nodding, both clearly struggling to come up with details that would sound convincing.

  “And Andrew…”

  “I have on female underpants right now,” Andrew said.

  I still only stared at them.

  Andrew kissed Zar, his mouth open. Zar grabbed his head in both hands, returning it. They broke apart, panting, to beam at me like Cheshire Cats.

  Silence.

  Isaac, Jason, Kage, and even Jed watched with interest.

  Finally, I said, “Nice try,” and walked on to get in the passenger seat.

  A scuffle behind me, one shoving the other.

  “Get your paws off me,” Zar muttered.

  “Moon curse your hide, Jay,” Andrew hissed.

  Jason chuckled appreciatively, as he had about his injury, while he helped with the trailer.

  I still hadn’t scried. I couldn’t get my head in it. Stop for a break first, coffee on the way out of the county. Then take a quiet moment in the trailer and look with the magic. Maybe look for standing stones.

  This, with the sun up and leaving Cornwall behind, I did.

  Which turned out to be a smart move. After that, we weren’t heading back to Brighton at all.

  Chapter 25

  I saw images of stone circles, great church towers, ancient city skylines, more stones, blood trickling down them into pools, a horizon of fire and black smoke that filled my lungs and nose until I was coughing in the trailer and had to stop.

  I escaped into fresh air of the car park and a surprised bunch of wolves who hadn’t expected me to emerge so quickly.

  That wasn’t scrying. It was the dreams, visions, twisting images. Either my own mindset or something about what I was seeking blocked me.

  Magic users could create blocks, of course. But there were other things. Hangovers like spirits bound to old houses, for example. It could be a devilishly tricky thing to scry a haunted house. At best, confusing as you got mixed signals. What was flesh? What was spirit?

  So, while disconcerted, I wasn’t totally thrown. It would just need more work and a proper thoughtful spell and ritual on my part. What really bothered me was the crossover. I’d never received dream images from scrying before. Or the other way around. This was something I didn’t know. Something I needed to ask Nana about. But that time had passed.

  The stones. Jason had said I talked about them in my sleep, even though I’d never been a sleep-talker that I’d known of. Had I been a bit awake? Yet I didn’t remember wakings besides the one that had me spilling my guts to him for reasons unknown.

  I remained upset with him for acting like Kage had just been playful by nearly getting Jason’s nose broken. But I was also glad to see that Jason appeared to be in much better spirits today than he’d been in since I’d known him. Maybe in werewolf relationships cleaning up a bloody wound with your tongue was a good way to strengthen bonds and show affection.

  I still wanted to talk to Jed about the Beeches. And I wanted to talk to Zar about stone circles. But Jed had chosen today to ride in the trailer instead of the Jeep and Zar was the only member of the company willing to join him and leave room for the rest. That meant I hadn’t spoken to either all morning—since Zar’s dog and pony act with Andrew.

  I addressed him in the car park while the six of them lounged about the curb or sat in the Jeep with the doors open. At least I had coffee, doing much to bolster my spirits.

  “Zar, do you know if there are stone circles around here?”

  “Sure there are.” He proceeded to tell me about Hurlers and Duloe stone circles, and Avebury, circles in Wales and circles on the coast, cairns and standing stones with ancient ties to all kinds of peoples. Not only druids, but all magical sorts could be found to have connections with such structures if you went back far enough or believed the folklore.

  This was interesting. More connection. But it didn’t actually help.

  I tried to listen to him, sipping my bitter coffee while my mind wandered.

  Jed, squeezing a thick woolen ball that looked like a dog toy in his hands, stepped into the trailer, ready to go. He’d avoided me all morning. This only made me want to talk to him more, even to say I wasn’t upset about last night—Jason aside. It had been an accident. It wasn’t his fault. I had no idea if this was bothering him, though, or he was only making a special effort to avoid me because he didn’t want to hear the name Beech Pack again.

  Kage sat in the back seat of his Jeep, looking bored and irritable. Jason leaned against the side of the vehicle, one foot on the tire behind him, chewing a stalk of grass. He’d brought it with him. We were now surrounded by paved lots and brick walls. I’d noticed they all chewed grass now and then. If one plucked some it seemed to make the rest want a sample.

  Isaac stood watching me, though I wasn’t doing anything. Andrew sat against the trailer’s bumper, also chewing on something. He had a plastic drinking straw balanced across his nose. He wore glasses today that I’d never seen. Not his sunglasses, but sleek prescription ones.

  “And there are more up north. They’re all over the British Isles. I can get more information for you. Atarah would help. What is it you’re looking for?”

  “Th
at’s the question, isn’t it?” I shut my eyes. “There may be something about standing stones that’s important after all. Maybe if I could just see one of them … that energy.”

  “Moon! What the hell?”

  I looked around.

  Zar wiped a paper spit wad out of his long hair. “Verus busipa, Andrew!”

  Andrew was already back to balancing the straw on his nose.

  “Stonehenge.”

  I looked to my right.

  Isaac gazed calmly at me, having spoken only one word in his soft voice, yet taking in this crowd all the same.

  “Oh,” Zar said, sounding confused, still pawing his hair. “Sure. There’s Stonehenge. A bit obvious, though. It’s not like it’s accessible to perform rituals or anything. You can’t even walk up to Stonehenge these days.”

  “How close can you get?” I asked.

  “It’s only roped off,” Isaac said. “Close. You just have to stay on the path a bit back from it. You can still go right around.”

  “You’ve been?”

  He nodded.

  “How long from here?”

  “Hour and a half, perhaps?”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Isaac climbed back in the driver’s seat.

  “What?” Zar asked. “To Stonehenge? It’s a tourist trap now.”

  “I can live with that—Andrew.”

  He had lifted the straw to his lips while Zar was turned to face me. At my word of warning, Andrew twirled the plastic in his fingers and Zar whipped around to glare at him.

  We set out, heading north and east rather than due east. Isaac knew where he was going.

  He asked about my arm but didn’t seem surprised by the bruise as some of them had—as if it should have healed by now.

  Behind my seat, Andrew went through a marked deck of cards with Jason for tricks he played on hotel guests. Jason helped him refine a new one that involved smelling which card they’d touched. These card games distracted them so he could lift their wallets, which he did in order to return them—“found” by himself—to their rooms later and collect tips from the grateful guests. Jason shared his little stash of fresh woodland grass with Andrew and Kage.

  Like having the kids in the back playing road games and eating cookies.

  “Grass?” Jason offered me some.

  “When you say that to humans it sounds like you’re talking about marijuana,” I said.

  “Sorry, just the standard kind.”

  “I didn’t mean I wanted … never mind.” I sighed and accepted a blade of grass from him. “Thank you, Jason. That was thoughtful.” I offered it to Isaac.

  He shook his head, watching the motorway, smiling a bit. I wondered if he was thinking we had the kids in the back as well.

  “How much do you get from those people in tips?” I asked, looking around to them.

  “A fiver, a ten. Never know,” Andrew said. “One chap gave me fifty quid and an old lady left me a hundred when she checked out.”

  “Aren’t there cameras in the hotel?”

  “I’m just borrowing, darling. I give everything back. I don’t want their old bones.”

  I had to think about that, nibbling grass, which didn’t really go with coffee flavor. “That is a disconcerting expression.”

  “Old dry bones no one wants anymore,” Andrew said. “You know. You might say you didn’t want that old rubbish or useless junk.”

  They made so many references to carcasses in some form it grew morbid.

  I changed the subject. “Why do you have on glasses? Have you been wearing contacts?”

  Andrew made a face. “Wolves aren’t supposed to have bad eyes.”

  Jason smiled. “Sore subject. No natives of the Sable Pack are long-sighted. Andrew joined us from the Aspens. Wolves don’t have all the health problems humans do. Good eyes, good teeth, as a rule, heart disease, diabetes, most STDs, and many other things are unknown in wolves. But what’s the use in boasting when you’re nearly gone anyway?”

  I assumed he must mean farsighted when he said long-sighted.

  “That’s the spirit.” I faced forward again, looking to Isaac. “So where are you from? Besides just north?”

  “A long story.”

  “I think we have time.”

  Isaac smiled, glanced at me and ahead again. “Briefly, my forebears were from Iceland. More recently from Scotland.”

  “You don’t sound Scottish…?”

  “No, the Mountain Pack is now scattered from the Highlands to Northumberland and Cumbria. I’ve lived much of my life in England. I wouldn’t mind going back to Scotland. It’s more beautiful than this country. And much better suited to wolves.”

  “Then why join the Sables?”

  A long silence from Isaac.

  Andrew and Jason were back to discussing new ways Andrew could hoodwink human tourists. Kage remained quiet, gazing out the window behind Isaac’s seat, chewing grass. What was he so moody about? I understood Jed, but I hadn’t done anything to Kage. Except sleep with Jason. Was that it? Then again, Kage’s silence might have nothing to do with me.

  “Situations in my life changed,” Isaac said at last. “I came to the South of England for my work.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m an architect.”

  I almost jumped in my seat. “You’re what? You went to school with humans?”

  “In Edinburgh. I’ve only been out of school, working professionally, for about five years. It’s not particularly common among my kind.” He glanced in the rearview mirror at the con artists. “But there are some wolves who pursue higher education and career paths that keep their lives fully entwined with humans.”

  “You work in Brighton? I’d love to see something you’ve designed.”

  He glanced at me, the slight smile back. “Why?”

  “Why…?”

  Because how freaking cool would it be to be all, “Oh, yeah, a werewolf designed my house. We worked closely together. What’d you do last summer?”

  “Because it’s fascinating that you’re doing that. I would just enjoy seeing your work. How are you able to take off like this? Shouldn’t you be working now?”

  “The murders of my friends and adopted family are more important to me than my job. I’ll make arrangements for as long as I need to, as long as I can be of service to my pack.”

  I looked at him for a moment, somehow still neat and tidy after two days sleeping in the dirt. The impossible emerald eyes, light hair. The only one of them close to as light a complexion as myself. The outsider in so many ways.

  I thought about how much he wasn’t saying. And the white wolf limping that first night when the whole pack had apparently gone for him. I longed to ask him to dinner. Wished he was asking me: that we could stroll the Brighton boardwalk and sit with an English Channel view to eat fresh fish. He knew how to eat politely with humans. The only one of the six who I’d accept such an invitation from if it was offered.

  “You don’t belong with them,” I said without meaning to.

  A glance at me, smiling more, and away. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Speaking of them, will you tell me something? If they were human, I’d have expected tattoos on Kage and Jed at the very least, maybe piercings, smoking, a case of beer along for the camping trip … I don’t know. They’re not into that?”

  “I’ve never known a wolf who believed in body mutilation.”

  “Body mutilation?” I had to laugh, thinking of my own pierced ears. “A couple rings or a little ink. Not surgical procedures or amputations.”

  “A piercing is an amputation. Removing skin for reasons of fashion or vanity? As to substances, that can be a problem in our communities. I suppose it can in any humanoid society, outskirts or otherwise, but it’s not common either. Many substances, inhaling smoke for example, or long-term effects of alcohol, are another form of mutilation. When we do see a member of our families starting with such a problem we have to respond. Zar and Jed�
��s father was one such case. I only met him toward the end. He was … too far gone.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be obtuse… Their father became what? An alcoholic?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the family had to step in?”

  “Which does not always work.”

  “And it didn’t in this case?”

  “No.”

  “Do they have to keep him home because he’s a danger?”

  “He’s dead.”

  I felt tight pressure across my chest that seemed alarmingly like fear. “The pack killed him because he was an alcoholic? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, the pack killed him because he wouldn’t stop being one. You can see a paper trail about him in the human news. A savage black dog loose around Brighton: many people convinced it was a wolf that someone had kept as a pet. The sightings, the sheep torn to pieces, the little girl sent to hospital who needed twenty stitches in her face and almost lost her eye.

  “The pack should have acted sooner and that girl would have no scars on her face and perfect sight today. But the family fought back, tried to keep him in, said they could handle him. Gabriel—that was their third brother—used to help, being responsible for watching him. As you suggested, trying to keep him safe. But Gabriel vanished and the two younger brothers and their mum couldn’t stop the drinking or the wolf behind it. The night he attacked that little girl—right in a human’s back garden with the parents running out in time to save her life—Zacharias rallied the pack and, yes … we killed him. Almost Jed as well. Jed wouldn’t back down, fighting the whole pack trying to save his father’s life. Zar kept their mother away.

  “It might have helped if Gabriel were still around. We don’t know what happened to him…” Slowly shaking his head. “It was a long time ago, yet, in hindsight, some of us wonder about long past disappearances. The odd wolf leaving the pack, never to be heard from again? A lone wolf is vulnerable. If Gabriel wasn’t killed when he left, he most likely has been since. I never even met him. And the death of his father was years ago as well, right after I first came to this area.”

  The whole time, Isaac spoke softly and calmly as ever. I leaned into the console to make sure I could hear him over the diesel.