She bit her lip at his words, wondering if he meant them or if they’d slipped out in an attempt to make conversation.
His arms circled around her again in a loose embrace. She glanced up at him, but his face was tilted upward.
“Unless this changes things, we’ll be back for the wolf moon,” he said while searching the sky.
“I want to see you again,” she confessed, hoping she didn’t sound needy.
“You will.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
The heat of what they’d done rose within her again and she hurried off before she said things she couldn’t take back. And she had too many things she wanted to say.
Chapter Six
Three days after August moved through the pack territory, Maya still found herself able to recall their last encounter with perfect clarity.
It was more than just a rather eye-opening sexual encounter. It was an indicator of what she was missing every single day.
Pack life had a level of tedium that she always felt alone in noticing. Now she understood that it wasn’t the life that was boring—it was her. She didn’t look for what she wanted. She didn’t take what she wanted. She hoped and wished and hinted, and very rarely did that inaction ever pay off.
When she’d told August she wanted someone to be wild for her, she wasn’t fishing for something in particular. She was simply stating a fact. That he’d acted on it made her wonder what else she could have if only she let her desires be known.
More and more, it became clear that certain aspects of her life were her responsibility. The pack saw her as a little sister. To some extent, that would never change. She’d been born tiny and premature. She had a penchant for tripping and otherwise injuring herself. And she was small. Not the smallest, but since some females were nearly six feet tall, her petite stature was impossible to ignore.
However, they hadn’t made her quiet. That had been a choice. Her choice, one made in the mistaken logic that being quiet was akin to being… well, she wasn’t sure. Good? Respectful? Worthy?
It didn’t matter. Twenty-plus years had proved her approach to be flawed.
She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and walked around Bachelor’s Row, an informal nickname for the circle of trailers that housed young, single lupine. Since there weren’t many single females in the pack, almost every building here housed a male.
Damon’s old trailer sat in the back, far from the rest. He had a cabin now, and had lived in it for quite some time, but he’d stored his things in the trailer for forever, or so it seemed. As a runner, he was rarely around to sort through his things, which could have been part of his casual pace to empty it.
Maya always suspected that the pain of memories was the other cause. She’d only heard of it in whispers, but Damon had been raised by the pack in literal terms. His parents had died when he was young, and they didn’t have a happy ending. He’d been on his own for most of his life.
She circled the beige rectangle. Old, but in decent condition. Maya had heard the humans in town complain about the lupine’s way of living. Of course, the humans thought that the pack was an off-the-grid gypsy camp in the woods. They didn’t like the trailers, called them trash. Called the lupine living in them trash as well. That was mostly the men, though. Maya assumed they were jealous of how the male lupine could descend on the town and practically summon every eligible woman for a night of drinking, dancing, and more.
“Sneaking about?”
Maya jumped at the intrusion to her thoughts, and saw Damon come around the back corner of the trailer holding a black garbage bag.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said tossing the bag off to the side.
“Not scared. Surprised. I didn’t hear anyone.”
He gave her a look. “You aren’t the only stealthy one in these woods.”
She stepped back and gazed over the modest home. “I heard you’re giving this to Cadence.”
“Perhaps.”
“She doesn’t want it?”
Damon fixed a stare on Maya. His deep brown eyes had a piercing effect, and in her younger years she’d briefly crushed on the mysterious runner with a dark past. Now she saw him as just another pack mate. He was quiet too, in his own way, and he had always seemed apart from the pack even though they all loved him.
“What?” she asked finally.
“Years ago, you wanted it.”
She gave him a half-smile. “I didn’t think you remembered.” She turned and looked out at the rest of Bachelor’s Row. “It’s a prime location. As close to privacy as any of us are likely to get out here.”
He made a sound of agreement.
“I want it,” she said softly.
“What was that?”
She looked back at him and made her voice clear. “I want it. If it’s not already set in stone for Cadence.”
“You ready to leave the nest?”
“Yeah.” She straightened her shoulders, emboldened.
“It’s about time. I’ve kept it long enough, waiting for you to speak up.” She frowned as he ran a hand through his spikey hair and continued, “I only hope that this is an indication of you being responsible.”
“Of course I’m responsible.”
He shrugged a shoulder and dug into his pocket, producing a small gold house key. “I’m just saying be careful. Being impulsive can be fun. Freeing. That doesn’t make the consequences any less severe.”
“Damon…”
“I’ll keep your secret, but only the one, and only because I trust that you know better than to get carried away. You’ve always been a mischievous little pup.” He tossed her the key.
She caught it against her chest and ran her thumb along the grooved teeth. “Mischievous? Me?”
“It’s the quiet ones you have to look out for.” He snatched up the bag he’d set down earlier and gave her a nod before walking away and leaving her alone.
A strong wind blew past her, teasing her curls free of the hasty bun she’d clipped them into earlier. The earthy spice of autumn filled her lungs while her mind reeled at Damon’s subtle admonition. He could only mean her visits with August, and yet she could only guess how much he really knew.
She didn’t want to imagine that he’d witnessed them together. Her cheeks heated at the thought. Not shame, since her sexual needs weren’t exactly a scandal—all lupine came into a healthy and hefty dose of sexual desires come their teen years, and it only grew with time—but something else. She wanted her time with August to remain between them.
Though it would feed her ego for everyone to know the truth about her, the forbidden nature of their relationship, however undefined, filled her with confidence. She loved that she had a secret, and that it involved someone else. It was their private thing, and it felt like a defining point.
More than that, she didn’t want to discuss the matter when she wasn’t entirely certain of what would come of it. A part of her enjoyed the ambiguity. This way she didn’t worry about future rejection. He’d kissed her, intimately, but he couldn’t stick around.
If August were of her pack, perhaps it would’ve meant more, but he wasn’t. They shared a connection she didn’t understand and didn’t question, and that had to be enough. If nothing else, he’d helped her take a step forward in her life.
She opened the front door of the home and surveyed the vacant interior. A wooden table with two chairs sat in the kitchen. She’d keep it, she decided immediately, but she’d want more chairs. She’d learn to cook, and she’d have friends over.
The bedroom and living room were empty, with only faint lines on the faux-wood flooring indicating where furniture once sat. A soft fragrance of lemons and cinnamon lingered in the vacant space, as if countless candles had burned and left their presence.
With a slow turn she analyzed the space and imagined how the current contents of her room would spread across this home and make it hers. Most of the pack didn’t understand her clutter. To her, it wasn’t clutter, of course.
To her it was ownership. Things she wanted. Things that brought her amusement, pleasure, joy. Things that added to her comfort and gave her a place where she belonged.
A place for everything, everything in its place. She would have that now, and it would be more than a tiny room under supervision she’d outgrown. This was hers.
She took a deep breath and exited the trailer, pulling the door closed and locking it with a hefty swell of pride in her chest.
Now to tell her parents.
Miller leaned back against the kitchen counter, his face stern as Maya talked. She’d found him here when she’d returned to tell her parents about her decision to move out. He was family, so he’d stayed.
He’d listened in silence, though his jaw worked as he seemed to be mulling entire discussions over in his mind. She’d guessed a 50/50 chance he’d be on her side. He could be overprotective of her regardless of where she lived, after all.
“Where did this come from?” Her father asked. Rush Johnson was tall and severe, but his tone wasn’t angry. He was the type of male who always looked ready for a fight, but inside was a gentle soul. He touched his wife’s shoulder and stood behind her at the kitchen table where they’d gathered. “We thought you’d stay with us until—”
“Until I found a mate, I know. Even if I never find one, I’d like to be on my own.”
“Why?” her mother asked.
Maya met the deep brown eyes, the mirror of her own. She’d inherited most of her looks from her mother, including her freckles. Looking at her now, Maya sensed that her mother honestly didn’t understand Maya’s desire to leave. Rush and Deanna had mated young. Deanna passed from her father’s care to her mate’s, and that was that. Deanna never had to worry about independence in that way.
“Has Laurent said something to you?” Miller asked.
Maya’s head jerked up; brows knit in confusion. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he hurt your feelings?”
“He has no reason to hurt my feelings.” Maya shook her head. “I can’t imagine what you think is going on, but it has nothing to do with Laurent. Damon offered the home and I took it. Nothing more.”
“He’ll come around,” her father said. “Just give him time.”
“What?” Maya spied the concerned look Rush shared with Miller. “Come around?”
“Once he’s settled into being a runner. He’ll realize he needs a steady partner,” Miller said with a slight shrug. “It’s a matter of time.”
Maya held back a laugh. Even if Laurent did come around, what they implied didn’t appeal to her. “We’ve never even had a conversation that wasn’t about the weather or something equally insipid.”
Deanna reached across the table, her hand landing on Maya’s. “You don’t need to hide it. It’s clear that you’ve had eyes for him for years.”
“I did but—” Maya stopped herself. “It’s not about him. I’m not moving out to get his attention or to lure him.” Having to say it aloud felt foolish. She wanted a mate, yes, but not so desperately anymore. She couldn’t believe that for too long she’d been crazy for Laurent, and now she had the first inklings that they scarcely know each other.
He was distant, and single-mindedly focused on being a runner. She’d long romanticized his determination and dedication, but no more. He was an unnecessary dream leftover from her days as teen Maya.
“If you take Damon’s old place, you’ll be close to me,” Miller said. “If you’d need anything, I’d be right there.”
Maya inhaled at the change of direction and seeming acceptance in his statement. “It’s not like I’m moving to another pack. I’ll always be around. I’ll just have my own little home.”
“You don’t know how to live alone,” her mother argued. “You can still barely fry an egg. And remember the time you tried to make a soup and started a fire?”
“I was twelve with the fire,” Maya said, rolling her eyes. “What does it matter if I’ll have rubbery eggs for a few weeks? I’m not incapable of learning.” She eyed Miller. “How good of a cook were you when you moved out?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I lived off soup packets and instant oatmeal.”
“If that’s the hardest I’ll have to overcome, I can manage.” Maya knew it was more than that, but she wanted to avoid an in-depth conversation about her supposed flaws and the challenges of living alone. “This should be a celebration.”
“It should be,” Rush agreed.
“It’s just so sudden,” her mother murmured. “It’s like you’ve changed recently. Always spending time alone. Disappearing. Now you want to move out.” She frowned up at her husband for a moment before staring at Maya. “You aren’t yourself, and now you want to leave.”
“It’s not like that.” Maya leaned back in her chair, the weight of their stares heavy. No doubt they all wondered about what her mother had brought up. “My wolf is restless. I needed to make changes, so I have. You’re proud of Cadence for wanting to move out. I should get the same consideration.”
Her father shuffled around the kitchen to the fridge and pulled out a handful of beers by their necks. He passed two to Miller, who slid one down the table to Maya. As Rush sat down at the table, he lifted the bottle in a lazy toast. “Alright then.”
“That’s it?” Maya wondered.
“That’s it,” Deanna grumbled. “My baby’s leaving me. Still, we’ll throw a party and get you settled in.”
Chapter Seven
The full moon, or wolf moon, as the pack called it, was more than a night of feral freedom. Sure, come nighttime, the pack would be pulled to their wolf forms by the ancestor’s and moon’s magic, but the daylight hours held magic as well.
A vastly different sort of magic.
As Maya tidied up around her home, which had gone from empty to overflowing with donations in a span of days, she practically vibrated with desire. The base needs of her wolf weren’t all met, after all. Food was fine. Shelter was fine. But the need to mate? To be one with another soul? That particular need went neglected every wolf moon.
Not every lupine felt it. It seemed to primarily hit the single lupine of a certain age. Others felt a strange lethargy, or a basic jitteriness that could be handled with simple physical exertion.
For those single lupine of the pack like Maya who woke restless and needy, there was a simple solution. As such, most of the twenty-something lupine were currently in town finding humans for quick midday hookups. Maya had been invited to go along, but as always had declined.
August was supposed to be back before the moon rose.
In all likelihood, he and Leon were on pack territory for the moon because it was safer that way. Wolves weren’t exactly welcome in most parts of the States, and pack territories were chosen specifically for the large swathes of free land where wolves could run free in relative safety.
The world around them continued to develop, but acres upon acres were sectioned away for the hidden lupine communities across the globe. The land was owned by the alphas, and the ancestors protected them.
Runners would often camp with packs to run safely, but if the inkling in Maya’s gut was correct, August had mentioned his return on the wolf moon with purpose. To be with her and share the wild feeling racing through her blood. They couldn’t have sex—that much was forbidden between two un-mated lupine—but they could do everything else. Even if such relations were frowned upon, they happened.
She wanted more to happen with August. It had been two weeks since they’d last kissed, and in that two weeks she’d grown into herself. She didn’t give him all the credit. It wasn’t like his touch was magic and had opened her eyes. Well, it was in a way, but that was only part of it.
She needed perspective from outside her comfort zone. She needed her previous thought patterns to be challenged and disrupted. August had done that for her, and allowed her to break from the box she’d been put in. A box she’d remained in and pretended to protest.
So far, however, th
ere was no mention of the Sandstone pack runners being in the area. Reid would likely make an announcement that they’d be running on the land. Not as part of the pack, but during a wolf moon it was likely paths would cross.
As Maya picked up the last of her clean dishes, she glanced out the window and saw Miller heading up the hill to her place. She headed out and met him halfway.
“I thought you’d gone to town,” she said pulling on a jacket.
“I got stuck lecturing the young ones.” He rolled his eyes and glanced back toward the pack center. “Last run they got too rowdy. Terrorized Nancy.”
Maya nodded, having nothing to say about it. The young lupine who didn’t yet shift with the moon were in charge of watching each other. Nancy was a human who’d married into the pack, and since she didn’t shift either, she watched the youngest of the pack. Her mate, Wyatt, was a male who Maya had never quite liked. Nancy was pleasant, but the subtle pack divisions left her out of Maya’s usual social circle.
Maya walked toward the pack center at an easy pace, Miller at her side.
“You missed the gossip.” Miller lowered his voice. “The Sandstone runners are back for the run. Reid apparently chose not to announce it since they’ll leave in the morning.”
“No official warning to avoid them?” she asked.
He looked sharply at her. “The gossip should be enough. We were told to stay clear of them before, so we’ll stay clear now.”
“Last time Leon stayed for a moon we let him run with a pack.”
“How do you know it’s Leon out there?”
“I don’t,” she lied. “I just meant that Leon is a runner for that pack, and we welcomed him. Isn’t it weird this time around? The secrecy?”
Miller ruffled a hand through Maya’s hair, turning her crown into a fluffy nest. “It’s not secrecy. It’s just pack law.”
She opened her mouth to debate but shut it almost immediately, swallowing her words. Instead, she searched for a different topic. “Doesn’t it always feel like the day drags before a moon?”
Falling for Shifters: A Limited Edition Autumn Shifters Collection Page 85