Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  Chapter Two

  She’s a wolf shifter. Ohmyfuckinggod. She’s a wolf shifter. His wolf paced and Gunny was barely able to keep himself from changing. She doesn’t know—she can’t know, or she would have scented me, my wolf, and showed submission.

  While Gunny wasn’t an alpha within the Mayer pack, he was an alpha in the Newfield pack—alphaness wasn’t easy to disguise.

  With the full moon happening in just over a day, Gunny wondered whether someone had taken her under their wing, to support her through her first change—which was late. He estimated her age at around 25; a normal first change happened closer to a teen’s fifteenth birthday. But, with the changes in the environment and toxins introduced into the food chain, first change was taking place farther from fifteen and closer to twenty.

  Gisella would turn eighteen soon and her first change was near—or so his parents said on their weekly video chat. He didn’t really care.

  Preoccupied during practice, Gunny let the players try on the new uniforms after warm-ups and dismissed them for the day.

  As though on auto-pilot, he made his way to his Jeep and drove just over a mile to his great aunt’s home where he’d lived for five years.

  “Martina? I need you,” he announced as he entered the house.

  Clare Mayer met him in the kitchen. As the matriarch of the Mayer pack, she would have information, too—or at least would need to know there was another shifter wolf in Zephyr. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

  “You know Hallie Thompson? She is working with Laura Greenfield to take over Stitch in Time so Laura can retire?” Gunny’s gut twisted.

  “Yes—she’s nearing her change. Are you having a cow because you can scent her or something else?” Martina asked.

  “Does she know? I mean, if she knew, she would probably avoid going places unless she knew for sure there were other wolves there, right?” Gunny paced from one side of the kitchen to the other.

  “Have a seat, Newfield Alpha. We need to have a chat,” Clare said.

  Glaring at Clare, he sat across from Martina.

  “We know about Hallie. She doesn’t know she’s a wolf shifter. Tried to tell her a few times, but she laughed it off. How did you know? She isn’t in your territory and she isn’t your kin,” Clare asked.

  Gunny gulped, took the glass of water Martina had, and drank it down. Setting the glass carefully on the table, he said, “My wolf scented hers.”

  Clare and Martina looked at one another and then at Gunny.

  Martina started, “That’s going to be—”

  “No, it isn’t. I’ve been telling my parents for at least a decade that I’m not bonding with Gisella Wagner. I don’t give a damn about any alliance.” Gunny stood, knocking the chair over, as he stalked around the room.

  “I plan to marry for love. I want to love my mate and bond with her wolf. If I were to mate Gisella, we’d be pawns in our parents’ grand scheme. Not. Happening.”

  “I can see how you’d want that, Gunther. But if you wait around for your soulmate, you could be waiting a long time. I’m a cautionary tale—I waited for my soulmate and he never appeared. I never met him. I could feel him out there, but never once did we cross paths. I think he’s died, now.” Martina covered her face with her hands, hiding her emotions until she had them under control—like she always did.

  Clare placed her hand on her back, the touch from Pack helping to ground Martina.

  His great aunt relaxed and slumped against the back of the chair.

  “You know our pack is inclusive—why would you think we didn’t have a clue about Hallie’s status? Just because she didn’t know she was a shifter you think we didn’t notice? Well, we did. And we thought Laura could keep an eye on her. But then, you come along and practically yank that wolf out of the poor girl.” Clare left Martina’s side and stepped toward Gunny. “Your alpha is showing and I need to you put it away. Even if you are Hallie’s soulmate, Pack Mayer isn’t coming between the arrangement your parents made with the Wagner Pack. Hallie can’t be yours unless you get the arranged mating reversed.” She stood, staring into Gunny’s eyes for an indeterminate amount of time before she playfully punched his shoulder and walked toward the kitchen door.

  “I’m not going to create a civil war by going against an arrangement. I encourage you to do something about it—because, now that you’ve found her, you won’t be happy until she’s yours.”

  As she slid from behind the wheel of her ancient Honda Civic, the curling, knot-like feeling in her gut returned. Drawn as she was to Gunny, something had her feeling off.

  The solar lights along to the path to the front porch flickered on just as she stepped onto the walk.

  Gunny opened the door before she even climbed the porch stairs. “Right on time.” He held the door open for her. “Thanks again for coming over to talk with us about alterations to Aunt Martina’s clothes. She may be initially resistant, but she’ll come around.”

  Hallie glanced to the floor. Gunny was barefoot. She exhaled a sigh of relief as she slipped out of her shoes. “I’ve brought a few items I altered for examples of the work I can do. I picked the items up at a resale shop before I came to Zephyr and they’re part of my working portfolio, now. Hopefully, your aunt will like what she sees.”

  “I’m sure she will. Just, maybe, not today. She may need to think on it for a few days before she realizes that we’re just trying to promote her independence by making a few changes to her clothing.” Gunny reached for the bag over her shoulder.

  Hallie let him take it as she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the pegboard on the wall.

  “Who’s here?” Must be Aunt Martina.

  “Just Hallie from Stitch in Time, Auntie.” Gunny smiled at her as he spoke. Then, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Martina may confuse you for someone else, so just go with it. She seems to be having a good day, but evenings are rough.”

  “Gotcha,” Hallie whispered back.

  Gunny led her through the house, making a couple turns, pointing out the nearest bathroom, and they ended up in a cozy eat-in kitchen. The sunny yellow paint with white cabinets and countertop washed away any of the uncertainty Hallie’d felt.

  “So, you’re Hallie.” Martina, seated on a bench at a table reached her hand out.

  Hallie took it and felt a familiar zing. But, it wasn’t quite like what she felt when Gunny touched her, but similar—without the sexual overtones. “You must be Martina. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Gunny talks about you all the time.”

  Martina haruphed and released Hallie’s hand. “Probably bitchin’ about me, huh? Well, he isn’t the easiest person to live with, either.” Martina glowered in Gunny’s direction.

  “No—not at all! He thinks the world of you, actually.” Hallie smiled.

  Martina softened and shook her head. “Well, if you’re here for dinner, might as well have a seat. Gunny’s making something healthy when I just wanted Rice Krispie Treats.”

  “Auntie, you need to eat balanced meals. We have Krispie bars for dessert.” Gunny pointed to a glass pan on the counter.

  “‘Bout damn time. I’ve been asking for the fuckin’ things for a month now.” Her eyes opened wide. “You should come over every night—he doesn’t usually make dessert.”

  Hallie laughed.

  Gunny shook his head. “I do, too. You just forget what I make.”

  “Must not be that memorable, then.” Martina winked at Hallie.

  “Uh, is there anything I can help with?” Hallie asked.

  “Nah. I’ve got the diced chicken all cooked—I just need to steam these veggies with them quick. Rice is on the stove, already finished.” He turned his attention to the wok. “I hope you like stir-fry.”

  “I’m not picky—as long as there’s meat, I’m happy,” Hallie said.

  “Oh, there’s lots of meat. I think both Martina and I prefer the meat over the veggies,” Gunny said.

  Martina laughed. “Yeah, kee
p the vegetables. I don’t think anyone would notice if we just ate chicken.”

  Both Gunny and Martina looked at her.

  “Uh, yeah. I can skip anything green in favor of meat any day of the week.” She felt heat creep up her neck and burn her ears.

  Gunny turned his attention back to the wok. “Well, I will admit protein is an important part of every diet, but one can’t live on meat alone.”

  “Unless you’re a wolf or some other carnivore,” Martina added.

  Hallie laughed. “Yeah, I’m a werewolf. Howl-howl-howl.”

  She looked from Martina to Gunny and back again.

  The older woman smirked. “Nothing wrong with having a little wild in your veins.”

  “Aunt Martina, would you stop?” Gunny said.

  “Stop what? She started it.” Martina crossed her arms over her chest and her bottom lip stuck out.

  Gunny said, through gritted teeth, “Pouting won’t help.”

  “No harm, no foul,” Hallie said. “She didn’t mean anything by it.” She winked at Martina.

  Gunny nodded. “Mmhm.”

  Eager to fill the silence in the kitchen—broken only by the wooden spatula Gunny moved against the side of the wok—Hallie found her bag and started to pull items out.

  “So, Martina—can I call you Martina?” Hallie asked.

  Martina nodded.

  “When I brought the new soccer uniforms to Gunny today, he mentioned that we should think about altering your clothes a little—to make it easier for you to manage them on your own.” Hallie held her breath and waited for Martina’s response.

  A moment passed. Martina’s expression was stoic.

  And then, another moment passed. Martina’s expression didn’t change.

  Hallie continued, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine—but I want you to know what your options are once you are ready.” She smiled.

  Martina arched a brow and pierced her with a glare.

  Hallie sighed. “Okay, I can tell you aren’t happy about this—but I think, once you see my work, that it won’t be such a big deal.”

  Hallie glanced toward Gunny, who was watching. He nodded.

  She held up the first item—a pair of jeans. “What do these look like to you?”

  Martina sighed. “A pair of goddamn jeans.” She rolled her eyes.

  Hallie suppressed a giggle. “Right. Jeans usually have a zipper and a button. But, I’ve modified these so they’re easier to manage.” She placed the garment in front of Martina.

  Martina looked at it, then glanced at Hallie and over in Gunny’s direction before she uncrossed her arms and poked at the fly of the jeans.

  Hallie waited.

  Eventually, Martina picked up the pants and took a closer look. “Oh, you’ve put a snap on these and made the zipper different—it doesn’t have a tiny pull thing anymore—it’s bigger.”

  Hallie smiled. “Yeah. Try working the snap and zipper. See what you think.”

  Martina pulled apart the snap and then tugged the zipper down. “Huh. Works pretty easy. But, the way something works on the table is a lot different from how it works on my body.” She put the jeans on the table and shoved them to the middle of the scarred wooden expanse.

  “These might be a little big for you, but feel free to try them on later. Maybe just slipping this hoodie over your sweatshirt will give you a better feel for how the zipper will work—they’re the same style.” Hallie pulled out the black hoodie and unzipped it. She’d added a metal four-leaf clover to the zipper pull, giving the user more to grasp.

  Martina recrossed her arms and scowled at Hallie.

  “Crab ass,” Gunny said. “The least you can do is try on the sweatshirt. It’s not like I’m saying you can’t do things on your own—I’ve just noticed it takes you more time to do things and I wanted you to know what your options were.”

  “Pup.” The single word flew from Martina’s lips and her hand quickly covered her mouth.

  Hallie laughed. “I’m sure that didn’t offend Gunny, Martina. He works with teenagers every day.”

  Martina’s face had turned beet-red. She nodded.

  Eager to break the tension, Hallie moved toward Martina with the hoodie again. “Why don’t you try this on and try working the zipper.”

  Martina stood and stuffed one arm into the sweatshirt. She turned and reached back for the other arm.

  Hallie adjusted the garment so it would slide easily on and settled the sweatshirt on Martina’s shoulders.

  “It’s warm, that’s for sure,” Martina said.

  “Just try the zipper—then you can take it off,” Hallie said.

  “I like the warmth—I get cold real easy these days,” Martina said.

  Hallie shrugged. “If you like it, you can keep it.”

  Gunny interjected, “We can’t—”

  “It’s no problem. I can get another cheap sweatshirt from somewhere,” Hallie said.

  “Hrmph.” Gunny seemed to slam around pots and pans, causing a horrible racket.

  “I—I can go, if you’d rather,” Hallie said. He seems irritated with me—definitely not giving off that vibe I caught earlier today.

  “No. I invited you for dinner and conned you into broaching a subject I didn’t want to talk about on my own with Aunt Martina.” Gunny avoided eye contact with Hallie.

  “I feel a little like I’m causing a problem, here. Or, are you two always at one another’s throats like this?” Hallie asked.

  Martina laughed. “Sometimes literally—but we always bicker like this.” The older woman smirked.

  From across the room, Gunny said, “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

  He almost sounded sincere.

  How could I have read the situation so wrong this afternoon?

  “I guess. But only because I’m hungry and Martina is such a delight.” She cast a glance in Gunny’s direction.

  His forehead furrowed and he frowned.

  Hallie decided to ignore him. “So, what do you think of the sweatshirt, Martina?”

  “I love it. I’m keeping it—if you’re sure,” Martina said.

  “It’s fine—I probably have an old hoodie I don’t wear anymore in my closet,” Hallie said.

  Gunny groaned.

  Hallie ignored him.

  Martina smirked.

  “Can I set the table?” Hallie asked.

  “I’m plating at the stove, but glasses are in the first cabinet and silverware is in the drawer closest to the table,” Gunny replied.

  “We having wine with dinner?” Martina asked.

  “You know you can’t have wine with your medications,” Gunny said.

  Martina winked at Hallie. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  Dinner was awkward at best. At least Gunny had allowed her to clean up while he got Martina settled in the living room with a game show she watched every night.

  By the time he returned, Hallie had the table cleared and the wok and rice pans washed.

  “Looks like you’ve finished everything,” Gunny said from the archway.

  “Yup. I’ll just gather my things and be out of your hair. Thanks so much for the invitation. When Martina is ready for alterations, you can drop things off at the shop.”

  “I think I owe you an apology,” Gunny whispered.

  “You don’t. I was here to pitch my services to Martina,” Hallie said.

  Gunny stalked toward her, reached out as though he were going to touch her and hesitated.

  Yes yes yes.

  “I didn’t know how to act with you in my d— space.”

  “What are you saying?” Hallie asked.

  Gunny stepped inside her personal space bubble.

  She let him.

  “I’m saying I like you. And, I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “Oh. Okay.” What do I do with that information?

  Gunny leaned in and buried his nose in her shoulder-length hair and inhaled. “Mmm.” Pulling away eno
ugh to look into her eyes, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

  “Um, sure.” Sure?!?

  Gunny leaned in and his lips brushed against hers. At first, tentatively and then with more intensity. His tongue swiped across the seam of her lips and she parted them.

  Hallie met Gunny’s tongue stroke-for-stroke as he tangled his fingers at her nape, tipping her head for the best angle.

  In what seemed like just seconds, they parted, both breathless.

  “That was—” Hallie started.

  “Amazing,” Gunny finished.

  They laughed.

  “So, what’s next?” Hallie asked.

  He fished his phone from his back pocket, used his thumb to get past the lock screen, and opened up a new contact. “Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you as soon as I get Aunt Martina settled in bed?”

  Hallie smiled. “Sounds perfect.” She punched in the digits—and added the store phone as well as her personal email—and handed it back to him.

  “Shoot me a text so I can save you?” Hallie said.

  “You’ve already saved me,” Gunny said. His eyes opened wide and he became rigid before stepping backward. “That was corny. I’m sorry.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “Goofball.”

  He tapped at his phone for a moment before saying, “There. Don’t read it until you get home, though.” His cheeks pinked and his ears turned red.

  Hallie laced her fingers through his and Gunny picked up her bag containing the jeans—Martina still wore the sweatshirt. She lead him to the door she’d entered through and turned to face him.

  “I think we should do this again—but maybe I should cook and we shouldn’t broach a difficult subject with Martina,” Hallie said.

  “You don’t have to cook. I really like doing it—and it seems like Aunt Martina really likes you. Can you come by again tomorrow?” he asked.

  She slipped her feet into her shoes as she responded, “I suppose. What should I bring?” Hallie asked.

  “Dessert—apparently, I don’t make anything memorable.”