by Kamryn Hart
And now she was here.
Moonwatch was a small place, but not in a run-down Podunk kind of way. It was snowy as hell, but she could see how beautiful each and every cabin-style building was. These shifters had to have money. Farmers could potentially make a lot, but the actual farming part of Moonwatch seemed to be rather small or for show. It was winter, so maybe she couldn’t decipher which fields were used for crops, but she also didn’t see any animals out. She saw some barns though. These farmhouses were interspersed between large spreads of land. There was a sort of central hub or downtown area where buildings were closer together too. She spotted a grocery store, a cafe, a bar, things like that. It was a pretty little place. Quiet. Somewhere she wouldn’t mind living.
Even with the shifters. She didn’t fear shifters. She never had.
The wolf pack living here was probably the reason the place was so isolated from any other towns or cities. It was a close-knit community. Wolf packs were social and connected. It only made sense.
Before hitting any of the houses or downtown, Emily had to drive past a couple motels lying on the outskirts of everything. It seemed she had her own personal welcome committee. A gorgeous woman with curves that could kill and curly white-blond hair was standing in front of the motel, watching her with an easy smile. Emily found it strange, but she needed to talk to someone to get more information on Ethan. Either that or she’d have to scour the town on her own. She was going to be thorough as hell.
Emily brought her Impala to a stop in front of the first motel, discreetly slipped her pistol into the back of her pants and easily concealed it all the way with her hoodie and coat combination, and got out of the car. She researched this place as well as she could on such short notice. It didn’t seem particularly dangerous, but she had learned not to assume anything.
“Howdy, stranger,” the blonde said with an odd little salute. “What brings you to Moonwatch on this fine winter day?”
Emily caught the subtlest gleam of animal in the amber that flickered in her brown eyes. It wasn’t anything hostile or even anything most people would be able to catch, but Emily was hypersensitive to it. It all started with Mason. In some strange ways, she related to shifters more than humans, but she blamed that on Mason and Ethan. Those boys made her wish she was a shifter so she could have lived in their world, so she could have been with both of them instead of them trying to keep their distance and failing.
She knew they tried, but she also knew whatever feelings the three of them shared were too powerful to hide successfully.
“I’m looking for someone,” Emily said casually.
“In Moonwatch?” the blonde asked with a painted and raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, his name is Ethan.” Come to think of it, Ethan never did tell her his last name. Then she added as an afterthought, “He might go under the name Rogue these days.”
This wolf shifter woman was animated and poor at hiding her feelings. Emily noticed her eyes widen in surprise. Bingo.
“Great, okay,” the woman said. “If you’re looking for someone, I know just the guy you need to talk to.”
So she wasn’t just going to give Ethan up. But Ethan was here. He had to be. That realization made her heart beat faster in anticipation. Her chest was swelling and tears pricked her eyes. She forced all the emotion to hide underneath the surface, refusing to let those tears fall. She hadn’t seen him yet. She had to hold it all in until it was real, until she was holding Ethan in her arms.
“Wonderful,” Emily said when she knew she could speak without her voice wobbling. Then she held out her hand. “Name’s Emily Walker.”
“Willow Sipe,” the she-wolf replied as she took Emily’s hand and shook.
“Right, and I have a pistol on me for self-protection.”
“Fair enough.”
The she-wolf didn’t act surprised or worried about the revelation, but Emily learned when people or shifters weren’t outwardly hostile, it was best to offer up something as big as her concealed weapon in a show of good faith. She never went anywhere with the intention of starting a fight.
“Unless you want to trudge through the snow, we can take your Impala,” Willow said. “All the roads are plowed.”
“Then on we drive,” Emily agreed.
Willow either saw her as no threat at all or she was very trusting. She got into Emily’s car easily, like they were old friends just taking a drive together instead of complete strangers.
“We’re going to that big-ass mansion over there,” Willow said as she pointed out the window.
Emily scanned where Willow was pointing and easily picked out the building she was talking about. A mansion and big-ass it was. Willow was probably taking her to the Alpha of the pack. It made sense.
They drove on in silence after that. It didn’t take long to get to the mansion, and Emily parked her car immediately once they arrived. Willow popped out of the car in a hurry, and Emily was close on her heels. They practically jogged up the stairs. Willow knocked on one of the big double doors, and Emily took a moment to admire the portico and the burgundy wood that made up most of the mansion. It was a beautiful color, calm, serene, and even warm. She wondered what kind of wood it was. Then she noticed the wolves carved into the support beams. These were proud wolves.
Emily brought her eyes to the double doors when she heard one swing open. A man and a woman stood side by side, the man’s arm around the woman’s waist. It was then Emily noticed the woman’s stomach. She had a baby bump. That worried her only slightly since wolf shifters were often very protective.
“Hey, Willow,” the woman greeted.
The man looked right at Emily. His eyes were a strange hazel that flashed yellow. Wolf all the way.
“Who’s your friend?” the woman added.
“Emily Walker,” Emily replied easily. She figured being forthcoming would get her on their good side.
“She’s looking for someone,” Willow added.
“Ethan. Maybe he’s going by Rogue?”
“I’m Gwen,” the woman said as she outstretched her right hand. Emily took it in greeting and noticed a patch of skin on the back of Gwen’s hand that seemed almost metallic in nature. It was shaped in a perfect crescent. She thought she saw the same thing on her palm when she drew away.
“Nick,” the man said, following suit. He had the same mark on his palm. “Come inside where it’s warm. We’ll talk.”
Emily followed the wolves into their den. The first room she entered was the grand foyer and boy was it grand. The ceiling was so fucking high, she had to crane her neck to see the chandelier overhead. There were two big staircases, one on her right and one on her left, leading to an upper level. It was like a palace.
“This way,” Willow said with a giggle as she pointed to a room to their left.
Emily followed her inside to find a big sitting room. This was obviously the area guests were brought to for visiting. There was a gigantic TV, plush couches, and fancy paintings lined the walls; most of them, she noticed, were wolf inspired, or depictions of the night sky and the moon. Or maybe, the Moon. She knew some shifters seemed to worship one of three celestial bodies: the Moon, the Earth, and the Sun. These wolves obviously had a thing for the Moon. She had never before seen Moon scars or tattoos on skin like Nick and Gwen had, so she didn’t know what they meant, but it felt powerful.
Emily followed everyone else on taking a seat. Gwen and Nick sat together on one couch while Emily and Willow sat on the one across from them. A coffee table made of that same burgundy wood sat between them.
“Why are you looking for this guy?” Nick asked, cutting to the chase.
“He’s important. Family,” she replied easily. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him. It crossed my mind that he could be dead, but I don’t think he is. I’ve been digging up clues, trying to find him, and all of my searching has finally led me here.”
“Who are you, Emily Walker? Where are you from? What information did you find that le
d you here of all places?”
How much should she give away? She knew the information she got was shady, but she was desperate. She decided to beg. “Please, just tell me if he’s here. Or at least tell him Emily Walker is here. Whatever it takes to satisfy you. I just need to see him again. I need to see him.”
The wolves went silent. They exchanged quick looks between the three of them, and Nick spoke again, “I’ll see what we can do for you. You look tired. Rest here, and we’ll talk a little more.”
“I’ll head out then,” Willow said as she stood too abruptly. She offered a little wave, and then she was gone.
Emily’s stomach dropped. Was Ethan really here? If he was, were these shifters protecting him from something? It was all so roundabout, and Nick, who had to be the Alpha, didn’t want to let her out of his sight. They didn’t trust her, not that she exactly blamed them. They knew she was human, and she knew shifters were careful of humans for good reason. A human was either an enemy or an ally. There was no neutral ground. Any ally had to keep a big secret. It wasn’t something shifters could throw around willy-nilly.
No, right now, she needed to wait. Maybe Willow was going to Ethan. Once she told him Emily was here to see him, he’d come. Wouldn’t he?
He hasn’t come for you all this time. What makes you think he’ll come now? If he’s alive, he’s been avoiding you this entire time.
It hurt to think about, but if Ethan was alive, why hadn’t he come for her? He loved her, didn’t he? She swore he did. He snuck out to visit her. He even kept it from Mason. The only explanation for him staying away from her had to be because he was in trouble.
Ethan had to be here. This was her last shot, her last chance. If he was alive, if he was here, she would never let him go again. She would get answers to all of her questions. For the first time in a long time, everything would be okay.
Please, let him be here.
Chapter 5
HIS FACE WAS BURNING.
Rogue stumbled through the snow and blue spruces. Something was happening to his body, or he was having a fucking relapse, a memory overload. The memory of Mason’s hot blood on his cheek was searing through him like fire. Neither the cold air nor the snowflakes that landed on his skin could soothe it.
Was this a latent surge of Lunas? He thought it disappeared when Mason died, like how his contract with Liam disappeared when he died, but this felt similar to the buzz of energy Rogue got when he promised Mason he’d leave Emily alone. Unlike the mark Mason once left over his heart, this one was hostile. Rogue had never felt Lunas spark through his body so painfully. But he had never made such a dark contract before either. Even the contract he was scared into making with Liam didn’t hold this kind of power. This was a contract that kept him from one of his Fated Mates, and he agreed to it without the threat of dying or painful conditioning. He made the choice willingly. It had to be the cause of the sensation he was feeling.
The question was: why now?
What had changed?
His left cheek grew hotter. He placed his hand over it, but it made it worse.
Rogue hissed and slammed his back against a tree trunk. He slid against the brittle bark all the way into the snow, and then he packed snow against his cheek, willing to try anything to get the fire burning its way through his flesh to stop.
“Mason,” he pleaded, his voice trembling, “I haven’t broken my promise. Why are you doing this to me?”
Rogue squeezed his eyes shut and doubled over into the snow, burying his head and ruining his slicked back hair—not that his appearance was ever anything outstanding. Worn and ripped up black clothes probably didn’t give the best impression. He probably looked like a sad and washed up goth or emo. He laughed at that thought, but it made his cheek hurt worse.
“Fuck, Mason!” He growled. He was getting pissed off now. There was no reason for this.
Unless this was a warning.
Rogue’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of footfalls. They were quiet steps, but it was hard to be quiet in the snow. It had such a distinct crunching noise. It made Rogue shiver.
He forced himself back to his feet, but he had to stay leaning against the blue spruce’s trunk because he was unsteady. His legs were shaking.
He scanned the area around him. He could feel his cat’s golden eyes burning in his vision. Was someone stalking him now? His hackles rose and a low growl hummed in his throat.
Then he saw it. Movement. It was like a ghost in the trees. White and pale. But it was only Cedric. Damn, the guy could really use some sun. The fact that he was wearing a white coat didn’t help at all. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t pretty, because his face was radiant in the sun. Stella, his Fated Mate, was one lucky wolf.
“The hell you doing, haunting the forest at this hour, Snow?” Rogue asked. “It’s not night yet.” He probably looked like shit, snow melted and dripping down his face and hair, but whatever. He could try to play it cool.
“I told you to just call me Cedric,” the snowy owl shifter replied.
Rogue swore he could see him bristle some, ruffled feathers and mild irritation. It made Rogue grin. Grinning reminded him how bad his cheek hurt, and he winced.
“Are you feeling okay? I didn’t take you for the type to lurk in Blue Forest. I figured you’d be out terrorizing the town and stealing things,” Cedric said.
Rogue pressed his hand to his heart. “Your concern is touching.”
Cedric and his family officially moved to Moonwatch around the same time Rogue got brought in. Cedric’s daughter was even here with them, visiting for a couple weeks. How Cedric lucked out and got such a cool and giving ex-wife was beyond Rogue. That was not usually how these things went. But she seemed to want Opal and her father to have a good relationship. Maybe it wasn’t for Cedric at all but for little Opal. It helped that Opal said she wanted to come. Apparently, the family was here for a big Christmas party about a month ago, and the five-year-old snowy owl shifter thought it was a blast.
“Your face is red,” Cedric stated.
“I’m sure it is. I think I have a fever,” Rogue deadpanned.
Cedric frowned, a look that totally didn’t fit his royal features. “That doesn’t sound good. Shifters are usually pretty healthy.”
Rogue shrugged. He thought about pushing away from that tree trunk, but he could already feel his head spinning with the action, so he stayed planted where he was.
Cedric walked forward and pressed his hand to Rogue’s forehead. He pulled his hand away half a second later. Rogue felt like a piece of shit for wishing he had stayed longer. His hand was nice and cool against his skin. And more than that. He savored the touch of someone caring, of someone worrying about him. It was the closeness he craved, and it meant much more to him than a round of empty sex would have. He’d totally take a pledge of abstinence just to have this kind of closeness. He was one hell of a broken cat.
“God, you’re burning up,” Cedric said, hazel eyes wide. “Are you okay?” The question held a serious weight this time.
What should Rogue say? He could lie and say he was fine, had a cold or something. Or he could tell Cedric the truth. But it wasn’t fair to put that kind of weight on Cedric. It wasn’t fair to want things he couldn’t have.
Cedric and Rogue’s heads turned in unison when more footfalls came their way. These weren’t attempting quiet on any level. Someone was running right for them. She emerged out of the trees a moment later, curly white-blond hair flying behind her.
“Willow Sipe,” Rogue muttered. Couldn’t a guy get any privacy around here?
“Thank the Moon I’m a pro tracker!” Willow announced as she tapped her cute little nose. “Rogue.”
“Yes?”
“There’s a human woman looking for you.”
“What?” Rogue asked in a completely flat tone.
“Yeah, and she’s super pretty. She has her hair all micro braided, the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, flawless dark skin, and killer hips. Ha
ve you touched those hips, Rogue? Her name is Emily Walker. Who is she?”
Rogue was speechless. His cheek burned hotter. It took all he had not to cry out in pain. He squinted his eyes instead, barely able to keep them open. His heart was pounding in his ears.
“Emily Walker?” Cedric asked.
Willow nodded. “Yeah, she’s with Nick and Gwen in the Alpha Den right now. She seems really desperate. She knows Rogue by a different name too: Ethan.”
“Your real name is Ethan?”
“There must be a mistake,” Rogue choked. Then his legs gave out. His entire body was convulsing in the snow. He wondered if he was dying. He was pretty sure his face was melting off. Mason was pissed. That was the only explanation, or he had a terrible darkness in his heart and intent when Rogue promised him he would never approach Emily again.
Maybe Mason hated him.
“Moon above,” Cedric murmured as he pulled Rogue up, slung one of Rogue’s arms over his shoulders and gripped Rogue’s waist tightly. “What’s going on? Is she a witch? Did she curse you?”
Willow gasped and pointed at Rogue’s left cheek. “Where did that Lunas Sigil come from? Is… is Emily your Fated Mate?!”
Rogue gritted his teeth and allowed himself to lean on Cedric. He fucking allowed it. He needed him.
“My Fated Mate is dead,” Rogue informed. And his heart broke all over again. He and Emily never shared a Moon Mark, and they never would.
He remembered Mason dying in his arms. At that moment, he lost both essential pieces of his heart, his soul. He was empty, and he was cursed to always be empty since that fucked up night.
He pushed away from Cedric. Nothing was allowed to fill the emptiness. Not friendship. Not love.