Moonlight Heart: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 4)

by K. R. Alexander

  “That’s okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll bring you coffee. Be back in twenty minutes once he’s actually ready to go.”

  “You will?”

  “They’ve got it sitting there.” Kage sounded even angrier than last night. “Jason’s a mechanic for a posh dealership north of Brighton. He gets to work on worms’ fifty grand and up bikes all day. As soon as you walk in there’s a pot of decaf and regular and biscuits out. Want some biscuits?”

  “No, thank you. But the regular would be great. Just black is fine.”

  “We’ve another thermos around somewhere. I’ll bring it in that for you.” Crashing in the kitchen, banging the few cabinet doors.

  “Is that … stealing?” I asked. “I’m not a customer.”

  “Jason will fill it. They love him. He could get away with murder there.” Clanking, water running. I hoped he was washing the thermos he’d found for me. “They’re not even fussed about his missing work. His boss fancies him. Andrew’s the one who’s been sacked after all the missed days with late notice.”

  I looked around at the doorway as if I could see him. “Andrew’s been fired?”

  “Found out yesterday. He’s got to the end of next week. It’s too bad. Andrew can pick up a job from anywhere, but he was slaying with tips from tourists in that gig.”

  The shower shut off.

  I sighed. “We can’t let you all lose your jobs over this.”

  “Told you, it doesn’t matter. This is a big hunt and sharp ice. We’ll focus where we’re needed.”

  More for my growing glossary? Needing that notebook again…

  “Are you okay?” I asked, thinking of getting up, but I’d only be walking around in my underwear until I could get in the bathroom anyway. And in the way in the tiny space. Best wait for them to leave.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Click of a burner nob, presumably filling the thermos for Jason.

  “You sound mad. What are you upset about?”

  “I’m wound up about having no bloody backbone.” Metal clanking.

  “Backbone…?”

  More noise from the kitchen, everything apparently ready to go, because Kage came stalking into the bedroom.

  “It’s been the same every Moon-cursed morning since my last contract job ended.” In only his shorts, two-day stubble, hair wild, he yanked open the wardrobe that he’d been stuffing with clothes and other junk off the floor the night before. “I was working construction on a renovation project just a few miles from here. It didn’t last. All July I’ve been trying to pick up something new. Isaac said he’d have a job for me by the end of summer if I hadn’t scared anything up before. Long time, though.”

  He rummaged out a pair of old, torn jeans and pulled them on as he talked. Sometimes they bothered about real, reinforced motorcycle pants and sometimes not.

  “What happens to a wolf who’s not a crafter in-pack, or a worm servant? Unemployed? He’s ‘acting core.’ Which means he’s not core, he’s just supposed to pretend he is until he brings in a wage for his family.” Kage did up his fly and searched for more out of the wardrobe, voice still fast and angry. “Know what that means?”

  “What’s it mean?”

  “Means you do all the sterk that core has to deal with while getting none of the respect and doing none of the skilled jobs.” He sat on the bed to pull on black socks. “Cooking, cleaning, checkers, chores—the four bloody Cs. Nothing administrative, no decision-making, nothing with pups unless it’s just minding them for a while. And you’re certainly not silver.

  “See, normally, core’s right below proper silvers. Everyone with a brain wants to be core. Core teaches our pups and sees to the welfare of the pack in every way from managing the property to making sure we always have meat. They decide budgets, see to the wellbeing of elderly, and mentor yearlings through Moon’s transition. Being an orataj is another special honor.”

  I nodded.

  He stalked back to the wardrobe to find a shirt. “Core is a bleeding lot of work, but it’s our heart, our lives. We have a few top silvers who make the final calls and serve as our rallying point. That’s Diana here, helped by Atarah and Zacharias. Then we have core: our teachers and guides and caretakers. Then mothers. They carry. They fulfill Moon’s toil to keep their skin on for eight months and more. They nurse the pups. All mothers are silver. Then general elders. Then crafters—the wolves who work within our pack to bring in wages and sell and trade with the human world, carrying on legacies of skilled and artistic works passed down with apprenticeships. Skills taught by core or our own parents.”

  Kage pulled a T-shirt on over his head. “Then: worm servants. They’re no more silver than a fly’s arse, but a necessary pawn. That’s Andrew, Isaac, and myself. Jason has a bit of privilege because he’s one of our own mechanics also. He takes care of our bikes. That gets him into crafter status in the eyes of some. And there are certain worm servants who are better earners, either from better education or simply climbing branches in their human jobs. They’re a bit better too. We need them and the worm servants do make up the largest subset of our pack. Superior worm servants like Isaac support multiple families on their own. He covers three—though Susanna’s was one.”

  “He’s what? Isaac doesn’t even have his own family here…”

  Kage shook his head, walking to the doorway and looking around on the floor.

  It sounded like Jason was now moving about beyond.

  “He’s one of our top earners,” Kage said, returning with motorcycle boots to pull on. “He supports pups who’s own parents are still young mothers or core—or dead… He didn’t have to. He was verge when he came to the coast. But he wanted to live here under Diana and core care. So he signs over his income to the silvers. In return, he has every whim seen to. He has a place to live, all he needs, all his meals prepared and delivered. If he wants to take a holiday in Spain he still gets to do it. Just clears it with her and makes certain allowances, like waiting to a good time financially for the pack so no one else suffers for his taking a holiday.”

  Kage stood, stepping back to the door. “You ready, princess? Run out to Peter. I bet he’s waiting again.” Back to me. “Which brings us around to the point: at the tail end of all that are the wolves who can’t keep a human job and find themselves ‘acting core.’ That means all the rubbish core has to deal with, none of the rewarding parts, none of the respect, none of the pups. And as long as you’re in a family unit while you’re acting core you’re expected to be responsible for them as well. Meals, see them away to work on time, manage your own household assignments in addition to acting core in general and job-hunting with—”

  “All right?” Jason, who’d showered, shaved, dressed, and just put on his boots, now bringing his bike helmet with him, popped into the bedroom to see me, smiling brightly. “Tea? Need anything?”

  “I’ll be right back. She’s fine.” Kage shoved him away.

  “Sleep enough?” Jason’s brows drew in. “Sounded like you had hellish nightmares. Stay in as long as you like. We’ll talk this evening. If you want to see Diana or anyone just let us know.”

  “Go out to Peter!”

  “Look after yourself,” Jason called back. “Rebecca works upstairs in the workshop. Let her know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Jason.”

  The front door banged.

  Kage faced me again. “So, this is why I’m mad. I’m supposed to be acting core and one of my responsibilities is him. But can I manage that one responsibility without fucking it up? No. Because I have no backbone and he does whatever he wants. It’s exactly like that every sodding morning. No one noticed before. Now, though, we’re not supposed to be out alone. So two escorts for every wolf going to work because two come back without him. We meet Peter each morning. And Peter is core—top core. And core members decide who the next core members will be. And I will never be core and will always be a worm servant as long as what Peter sees of me is
that I can’t even get myself and mate to his bike and ready to leave at the appointed time when Peter is waiting for us. So can I do better? No. Because I’m a spineless maggot who lets Jay hold my nose. That’s why I’m hopping bloody mad.” He stalked out to the front door.

  “Back with your coffee in a bit.” Kage slammed the door on his way out.

  Chapter 4

  Jason had folded my dry clothes from the bathroom and left them on the table with my other stuff. Some seams in the jeans and hoodie remained damp, otherwise good. No need to figure out the laundry room situation this morning.

  Luckily, I always had my toothbrush in my carry-on. I dressed in the blouse, leaving the hoodie for more dry time, and puttered about, including washing face, brushing teeth, and three-minute makeup with my pocket kit. Then repacked my slightly damp bag as if ready to get out of here.

  There was no TV to listen to fabulous BBC documentaries like at Melanie’s. I plugged in my phone to charge with adaptor, then put on music.

  The sun was starting to peek through thick clouds that looked like they could still mean storms. To the west, however, were patches of blue sky. The day was already warming back into August.

  I pulled up all the blinds, opened the windows and door, then started with the kitchen.

  I’d just about finished the dishes—there weren’t actually many, it was only that the kitchen was so small—when Kage returned.

  He threw Jason’s bike keys on the table with my coffee—Kage no longer had a motorcycle, having sold his to help finance a used Jeep Wrangler—dropped his helmet in a chair, and told me he had to clean up for a job interview. His tone was dead, not bothering to look at me or acknowledging the dishes or windows. Defeated in every line, he slumped away for the bathroom.

  The coffee was still hot. I went on with fresh purpose.

  You are not the wife. Or the mother.

  But, dammit, I didn’t care. Someone needed to do those dishes and I had time—and, honestly, interest. What if I was spending another night here? Might as well do something useful.

  Still … it wasn’t my home. I also needed to ask.

  I had all the dishes put away, even the ones I’d found around the floor and bedroom. All a guessing game and a case of making my own rules because it turned out there hadn’t been any in the cabinets. Kind of fun making homes for them, like moving into a new apartment and unpacking. Plus I’d just finished cleaning the sink, counter, and stovetop. But it would be more fun if I knew it was all right with my hosts.

  “Kage?” I called from kitchen cabinets as I heard the bathroom door open. “Do you mind if I clean up? Or would you rather I stop? I shouldn’t have launched in without asking.”

  “Do whatever.” He flapped his hand apathetically at the living room as he dropped into a chair. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  Being ready for a job interview apparently meant washing his hair and shaving. Not that Kage didn’t look stunning in a red graphic tee and ripped jeans. Yet he would have looked most stunning in a bar or concert. Not an interview.

  I bit my lip as I watched him on the edge of the battered armchair with his helmet, pulling the boots back on, still slow and dejected.

  Not the wife. Not the mother.

  But it wasn’t that. I felt bad for him. If he didn’t want feedback, fine. Still didn’t hurt to offer.

  “Kage? Are you … sure that’s how you want to dress for a job interview? Where are you going?”

  He looked down at himself, then frowned even more. “I’m a joiner, princess. Not an investment advisor.”

  “You know, when you started calling me that, I hadn’t realized you called Jason the same thing. So … it’s a little … weird.”

  “But you both are.” He shifted his frown to me.

  “You think I’m like Jason?”

  “Not especially. But there’s more than one way to be a princess, princess.”

  “Right… Anyway, yes. A joiner. Is that a carpenter by American lingo? I see where you’re coming from. That’s what you’d wear to work, right? You might look stupid showing up for the interview in a suit and tie.”

  I leaned back into the counter, opening my hands, non-challenging. “Sorry to be presumptuous. It’s just that there are a lot of interview practices among worms that set standards for etiquette. One of the guidelines is to dress for the job you want, not the one you have. What about the general contractors? Or the architects like Isaac? Or the property owners? Maybe nice jeans or khakis, even business slacks for some of those people? You’re not going to tea with the Queen. Only … you’re acknowledging that you’re dealing with a professional and you’re showing respect for them and for yourself in your appearance.”

  Kage stood up with a sigh. “Don’t have much like that.” Instead of heading for the door, however, he walked back to the bedroom to paw through the wardrobe again.

  Encouraged, I followed. “Maybe a polo shirt, or a simple button-down? And jeans are fine. Do you have a pair that are a bit … newer?”

  He unearthed a pair of dark wash jeans that were miles ahead of the ones he had on, yet gazed at them gloomily. “Already got my boots back on.”

  “Sorry … but it’s worth a minute, isn’t it? Why don’t you change your jeans and I’ll see if I can find a shirt?”

  Kage sat on the bed to pull the boots off, complaining that these contractors didn’t care what he wore as long as he did a good job and he had references. But he did change his jeans. Standing right there next to me.

  I’d noticed previously they didn’t have what I considered human-typical ideas about nudity. And apparently not about keeping their sex lives private either. It must come from running around in fur on a regular basis.

  “What about this?” I held up a blue shirt.

  “That’s Jay’s. Too small.” He pulled off his T-shirt.

  “This?” I offered a clean, gray and black Henley that had been folded and looked neat and presentable.

  Kage took it without enthusiasm, though he didn’t complain either.

  “What happened to you?” I indicated sharp scars running down the base of his neck. I’d wondered before. “Did Jed do that?”

  “Yeah… Vulture-faced stranger bastard.” He pulled the shirt on and stepped back.

  “Andrew said you two used to be best friends…?”

  Kage snorted. “Long bloody time ago.” He held out his hands a little to the sides, watching me.

  “Nice. You look very handsome and presentable, and not ‘dressed up.’ Perfect for your interview.”

  He glanced down and, although he didn’t smile, his face softened.

  As he put his boots on, he talked about this job. How it would be a good one, working under a good firm instead of all this freelance hoping for the best. His tone had also softened.

  I learned something as I listened and wished him luck and he said he would bring me lunch when he got back. Learned from what I’d already known about Kage—the limelight, the Leo—and what I’d observed this morning. How Jason got Kage to do exactly as Jason wanted by endearments and flattery.

  Yes, Jason was attention-seeking. He wanted it all—good, bad, painful, loving. So long as it was on him. I’d thought Kage had the same streak in his own makeup. No. Kage was specific. He wanted to be worshipped. A single compliment was enough to soothe his nerves and morph a growling lion into a benevolent house cat. But place him on a pedestal, as befit the mighty king, and he’d do anything. Even to his own detriment, even if he was furious about it later and blaming himself for being a soft-touch, while it made him look bad in front of core members he longed to impress.

  Jason knew this. Now he’d shown me, for which I was grateful. Not because I also wanted to manipulate Kage but because I had to be a leader on this investigation since no one else was running forward to be silver. And because an elder German she-wolf had told me how to be a great silver: by knowing my pack.

  Chapter 5

  When Kage left, I continued cleaning, begi
nning to feel ravenous, but plowing on with the coffee, a protein bar I’d had in my bag for the flight, and the last of the chocolate-covered espresso beans from Andrew—also meant to be a travel treat.

  The space was so small, I had the kitchen squared away in no time and it only took an hour to sort out the little living room area that probably would have had a couch and TV in a human home. The only things already treated with care here were an antique frame drum and Kage’s small guitar, both hanging on a wall.

  Mostly a matter of putting everything from the floor onto the shelves. I chose an area for tools, tool belts, and toolboxes, another for the mechanic’s box and more tools and spare parts on the other shelf. Then boots and shoes in rows against the wall, hanging up jackets on wall hooks that were above the shoes, and filling the laundry basket under the kitchen table with the clothes lying about. The books, mostly nonfiction about their trades, were all allotted shelves. The bones, sex toys, and things that I suspected were sex toys, gave me pause.

  Those bones … chewed to sharp edges, gleaming white as if polished, were dangerous lying around. Yet I didn’t feel I could throw them out. Might be precious family heirlooms. There also turned out to be a lot more than I’d thought. They were in every room and in strange corners like under the armchair and behind the toilet.

  I wouldn’t mess with the bedroom—that seemed like crossing a line as far as personal, no matter what Kage had said. But I did find bags under the bed: their rucksacks, a duffel bag with what looked like camping gear, and a large tote bag. This had a pillow’s worth of assorted white and brown feathers in it and nothing else.

  I emptied the feathers into a plastic bag from the kitchen, tied it, put it back under the bed, and filled the tote bag with chains, blindfolds, cuffs, leather dog leashes, and so on that were scattered on the floor. This bag I set next to the wardrobe.

  Only the bathroom left. Delights of small-space living.

  Hearing engines, I cleared the last stray items around the table and chairs to the shelves, then swept up a huge pile of black and cream-colored fur that had mostly accumulated in heaps in every corner and behind doors. I just had time to dispose of this outside and was stepping back in when I saw Kage approaching with a paper bag of carry-out and a canvas grocery sack.