Moonlight Hunters: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 2)

by K. R. Alexander

  On the drive, I thanked Rebecca, remembering questions I had for her as we left the city. Where to begin?

  Rebecca was on me first, asking all about London, about staying in the hostel, and how the guys had been in the city.

  In fifteen minutes, we were nearly out of time, I had to change the subject.

  “Rebecca? Is it true you’re dating a human? Is that common?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Did Kage tell you that?”

  “He didn’t say anything. A little girl—a pup—mentioned it.”

  “Kage doesn’t like it. One of those prat big brothers who doesn’t pay any attention to you until you do something that puts him out, then thinks he can rule your life. His name is Carter and he’s getting ready to leave Brighton for Cambridge. He’s going to be a doctor. So no one needs to get their fur on end about him.”

  “But you like him?”

  She smiled, watching the road. “We’ll stay in touch.”

  “Are there others in relationships with humans? Keeping what they are a secret if the human is mundane?”

  “Officially? No. Although it’s not like we can avoid them. The pool of potential mates in the whole South Coast Cooperative is so small we shop around. But, Moon, there’s a lot of pressure.” She sighed. “What’s a wolf paired with a human to the pack? A wasted wolf. Especially if she’s female. You might as well be committing murder.”

  A perfect opening. “Because you can’t have … offspring with a human?”

  “That’s right. So she’s throwing herself away. There’s the whole secrecy thing, hiding from mundanes, but it’s having no pups that gets everyone growling when a female takes up with a human man, even if it’s a fortnight fling. Moon knows, I care about my people as much as the next wolf. But I’m also nineteen and not choosing a mate yet. Breathing room would help. And having pups … it’s no picnic. Even with our own kind it’s never casual. We get jealous of human females and the ‘teen pregnancy epidemic’ and unwanted young. I can’t imagine.”

  “It’s hard for wolves to conceive even with each other?”

  We turned off the main road, heading uphill toward the quiet street leading to the mobile home park.

  Rebecca nodded. “It’s horrible. You have to both be in skin, of course, and she can’t change throughout the pregnancy. That’s eight months in skin—no matter what. If she changes, from day one onward, she’ll lose it. The fetus is part of her body, yet separate, becoming its own thing. If she changes…”

  “A miscarriage?”

  “Instantly. And we’re not good breeders in the first place. Humans … they’re brilliant, aren’t they? They’re everywhere. The most prolific species there is. I don’t know how you do it. For us, pups are a bit of a struggle.”

  “And a seriously rotten deal for the mother.”

  She grimaced. “Not as bad as humans. Deadbeat dads, starving children, single parents, and all that? We take care of our mums. I could have a couple pups and do whatever I fancied with the pack’s support. Stay home, work, train for core, anything. I could even say I’d had enough once they were weaned. There’d be a dozen wolves eager to look after them: females who hadn’t been able to conceive, males who’d be chuffed to raise them. We love adopting as much as having our own. Andrew was adopted in from the Aspens when he was a pup and his father came out here for a worm job. Having them’s a problem, but, once they’re here, we don’t worry about them the way you lot do.”

  We bumped along the last stretch of pitted, potholed road, along the fence with the field and broken down stone barn, a little wood on its far side.

  There was a gathering out here, a fire being lit this evening. Young ones and adults milled or moved back and forth across the field. It seemed like some sort of meeting was either coming together or breaking up.

  “Because you’re a pack,” I said. “It’s a whole different mindset—communal living.”

  But I wasn’t thinking about raising children in the pack mentality. I thought of Jason following Kage even when Kage’s eye was caught by someone else. And Kage being confused by my insistence that he couldn’t be in a relationship with Jason and also pursue one with me at the same time.

  “We try to be.” Another sigh. “There’s so much unrest now, I’m afraid you’re not seeing us at our best.” Rebecca pulled along the homes, slowing down as pups ran past, and parked alongside Kage’s silver Jeep.

  “Are there a lot of … open relationships around here?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Never mind.”

  She climbed out and I followed.

  “Have they been giving you a rough time?” She looked over the roof of the car at me. “Zar’s been talking about you. He spent all day tidying up his workshop. And Kage snapped at me when I asked about you. Of course, he doesn’t approve of relationships with worms.” She rolled her eyes.

  “They have a bit, now that you mention it.” I leaned my arms into the roof edge. “But you’ve got me puzzling over that a lot more now. I’m human. I can’t settle down with one and give him pups even if I wanted to.”

  “Look around you.” Rebecca gave me a wry smile. “Pressure on females. We’ve lost young females in the past seasons and the numbers were already off with too many males. Plus we’ve had females leave for mates in other packs. We can pick and choose. But they’re always competing to catch a female’s eye. Occasionally young males will pair up, like Kage and Jason. No one even notices. Then, double standard, it’s practically forbidden for females to do that. At least they better choose a male and have a pup or two before they set up housekeeping together. Then they can boot him out. Pressure, pressure, pressure…”

  She gazed across the field to the group out there. The sounds of flutes and stringed instruments drifted over.

  “For a while it’s nice, right?” She looked to me again. “After I had my pedemittere—that’s our coming of age ceremony—I couldn’t get enough of it. All the young males wanted to show off. Soon, though … sometimes they’re proper maggots. It makes me want to run off with a human just to thumb my nose at that sort.”

  I grinned. “That’s why you hooked up with Carter?”

  “Not saying that. But … it’s a possibility.” She wrinkled her nose and tossed her hair. “Actually, I’ve got my eye on a young wolf, Darius. I’ve known him all my life, but he’s only just coming into his own. Don’t tell anyone, though. Especially not him.” She winked at me, kicking her door shut.

  “No problem.”

  “He’s apprenticing with Jason’s dad.” She walked around the hood. “Just like Jason did. Everyone’s intertwined around here.”

  “What is it Jason does? He seems okay with humans.” I left my bag in her car and followed her to a double-wide with an added porch.

  “He’s a mechanic—working in a dealership doing maintenance and repairs for their motorbikes. Kage is a joiner, but he wants to be core.” Rebecca jogged up steps to the door and yanked it open.

  “What exactly is core?” I wasn’t sure what she meant by “joiner” either.

  “Core takes care of the pack. Want a drink? We have ice.”

  “Ice water would be great. Thank you.”

  “Mum! Cassia’s over. We’re not staying in.” Like we were school kids.

  The kitchen in the little home was sweltering, all the windows open, but taking the full force of sinking western sun, blinds drawn, countertop fans humming.

  Rebecca went on to me while she got us glasses. “Core look after pups, teach, make sure we’re fed, watch borders, interact with humans on the property, act as providers and sentries, assist elders. Core members work at home so the rest of us can do whatever we do to bring in money and support our community. That’s either by jobs among humans—we call them worm servants—or crafters. We have online stores. I’m one of the managers.” She flipped her hair again. “Half the wolves here wouldn’t know a laptop from a lap desk. It’s a bit sad, really.
So my job is technical. I take photos and create listings for work done by our crafter community—making custom clothes, jewelry, leather goods, sculptures, paintings, all kinds of things.”

  She gave me the water and a handful of vanilla sandwich cookies that she called custard creams, then we returned to the porch while I asked her more—casting aside reservations with this welcome chance to talk to her.

  “I know Isaac’s an architect. That's unusual?” I nibbled a cookie.

  “Not many wolves go to uni. But we have some. It’s a lot of fitting in and commitment to being with humans. At least now we can do so much remotely. That is, for those who will use a computer.” Another eye roll.

  She swallowed a couple cookies with two chews each and continued. “A lot of our work is apprenticed. Our dad’s a joiner and Kage has trained, but he can never keep a worm job. He was just fired off a site a few weeks ago. That’s why he’s ‘acting core’ right now, which isn’t core at all. It’s just the rough jobs at home. Cleaning the kitchens, cutting the grass. That’s why Kage was so eager to be a part of this whole thing with you. He’s got loads to prove if Hannah or Peter will ever consider him for core. And one of the things he needs to be better at is getting on with humans.”

  “So it’s your crafters who really don’t have any contact in the mundane world? That’s only Zar and Jed in this group with me?”

  “Speaking of which.” She jerked her chin toward the field and gulped a couple more cookies. “He seemed keen on showing you around tonight.” Grinning.

  Zar was approaching from the field, leaving a bustling group of others.

  “I wondered about them being away from jobs. Sounds like Kage doesn’t have anything to lose, and maybe Zar and Jed can catch up later. What about the others putting careers in jeopardy by taking off like this?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Jason’s got a good place. I bet they’ll let him get away with it. Andrew should be more careful. Diana didn’t give him this assignment in the first place and he needs to keep a job. I think Isaac will be all right. He has humans working with him and he can delegate some when he needs to. Isaac’s a wolf who actually knows how to text and use Skype.”

  “Welcome back,” Zar called as he crossed the road to us at the porch. “How’s your sister?”

  “Confused,” I said. “Are they having a meeting?”

  “Just time together. Sing, tell stories, games for pups. Could I show you my workshop?”

  “I’d love to see it.” Especially if there’s any chance we could run into your brother.

  I offered him my last cookie as I descended the steps, wishing this were Isaac. Zar was delighted to accept. I remembered too late the extra nuances of sharing food in this society. Rebecca had been showing her friendship. What was I showing Zar?

  But, dammit, I did like Zar. A lot. It was just that there was Isaac to consider. And Zar was so … soft. Not that I wanted him to be a jerk like Kage. Only more secure. Like Isaac.

  What rankled was my own suspicion that Zar was deliberately being delicate with me because I was human: highly breakable—a fragile little worm.

  Besides all this, I was irritated with myself because I really did want to see his work, and those hidden coves, and learn more from him about wolves and their lore. But I shouldn’t indulge. I didn’t have time. I didn’t even have time for only Isaac. Much less splitting time between two. Anyway, who I really needed to talk to, who this pack needed me to talk to, was Jed.

  I thanked Rebecca for the lift and her time as she smiled knowingly after us.

  Chapter 16

  As we walked, Zar asked if I’d had a good day, saying I looked like sunset over the sea, only far more beautiful, and that he’d missed seeing me that morning—as if this disrupted long established plans.

  With only one hand occupied on my cold water glass—it must have been 90ºF out as the sun was just about to set—Zar took my right hand in his left.

  “Do you have a favorite one-line quote?” he asked, smiling, breathless. Probably nervous for showing me his work space—that he’d been tidying up for my approval.

  “Off the top of my head…?”

  We walked to a two-story timber building with great sliding doors like a barn. Along one side were parked about fifty motorcycles below a shelter that had obviously been built there for them.

  This was why there were so few cars around the property.

  Zar led me to one of the open doors.

  “Maybe the Emerson quote, ‘Nature laughs with flowers.’ I’ve always thought that was pretty,” I said.

  “It is.” Zar smiled even more, opening his arm to indicate the space.

  A rich smell of leather filled the air, mingling with clay, paint, glue, and more. The workshop was not one space. As Zar showed me, he had his own personal work table, his own projects, and his own materials. But the whole massive shop was divided into areas.

  Leatherwork on one end, fabrics in the middle, and separate rooms for glass work and clay, plus a kiln, on the other end. Upstairs were fine arts and computers. A whole artists’ studio for painting and mixed media, and another wing of office space with desktops, laptops, most of them quite old, printers, digital cameras, and paper notes and dry erase boards everywhere.

  There was a young female working at a desktop and an older male downstairs turning clay and shaping what looked like a vase. Mostly, though, the space was empty with night about to settle.

  Zar told me they kept the woodworking apart because of the dust, but this was most of their craft. It never earned enough and they relied greatly on those members with outside jobs. Even so, they’d been able to build this space and grow it over two generations since living in this spot.

  “Some wolves are always roaming, there’s a substantial number among Eastern Europe’s Romani population. None at all left in Ireland. We’re lucky here, Moon blessed our grandmothers and us to place us in such a fine way. We’re probably one of the better off packs in Britain.” Zar smiled around at the space.

  Until someone decided to kill you all.

  Because they were stable? I wondered. Easy targets?

  “Are many European wolves Travellers?” I asked.

  “In our heritage. Times change, though. Especially in recent decades. A lot of change and wolves are slow to catch up.”

  “Coming from one who was reading a guide to humans that was published in the fifties?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “I stopped.” Zar chuckled. “You were right. It was going on about the family structure and … I don’t really think that’s the model they’re following these days.”

  “I’m glad you figured that out. If you want to know something about humans, just ask.”

  “I’m glad too.” He smiled into my eyes at close range.

  “So this is your own space?” We were back downstairs.

  “Yes.” He eagerly showed me his wares.

  From rivets and buckles to scrap leather and whole cowhides. Finished rucksacks and purses, and interesting items like elaborate dog collars with stitched names, to tiny deerskin creations that must be for dolls.

  Beside his own, on Jed’s station, were many boots and shoes in various states of completion, also belts, jerkins, a horse bridal, and more.

  “You make all this custom to order?”

  “It’s about half and half. We sell online and have stock, things we know are good bets and repeat orders. The rest, and all of the shoes, are custom.”

  “May I?” I picked up a doll-sized pair of cowboy boots from his station. The detail was stunning. Exactly like a real pair, only two inches high. Then the lightest little deerskin doll purse in scarlet that would have held the lid from a spice jar at the most. A simply precious way to carry rings or earrings to travel.

  There was a large magnifying glass with a light in it clamped to his work table. The purse was hand-stitched on the inside and turned inside out for smooth seams like the real deal. The closure was a working drawstring with a flap over this
.

  “That,” I said slowly, “Might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” I held the “shoulder strap” in my thumb and forefinger while the bag rested on my palm.

  Zar beamed, stepping over, eyes lit up. “Would you like it?”

  “Like it? Isn’t if for an order?”

  “I’ll make another. I have the material. They give us a lot of time on anything custom. I’d love for you to have it if you like it. I told you I wanted to make something that you’d enjoy.”

  “I can’t take stuff that’s part of an order. This is your work.” I started to set it down but Zar cupped his hand around mine to hold on.

  “Really, it’s no trouble. Wouldn’t you enjoy it?”

  I looked at the impossibly minute and darling bag. “I … was already thinking how it would be perfect to keep earrings in, actually.” I bit my lip. I shouldn’t be accepting gifts from him either.

  Zar pressed my fingers gently around silky deerskin. “Keep it, please.”

  I let out a breath, still looking at the scarlet bag. “Thank you, Zar. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. I love that you’re interested in it. When I’m not reading or composing I’m in here working on this. Being able to share it with you is a gift returned to me.”

  “Do you write music?”

  “Not well.” Chuckling. “We’ll play tonight. I hope you’ll stay with us.”

  “Of course, I’d enjoy hearing your songs.” I just stopped myself from asking if Jed would be there.

  Zar concluded our tour by taking my hand again, leading me back to one of the homes. Despite his invite, I felt weird about going in with him: too personal, potentially too private. The ideal place to let my own impulses get the better of my calm reason and judgements—those two sides were always a knife edge in my personal life. Instead, I waited for him outside in the last streaks of vanishing sunlight.

  Zar returned in seconds with a couple different styles of flutes, a bodhrán—frame drum—and another instrument that I’d never seen before. A bit like a cross between a harp and a violin.