Under Cover Of The Moon
Lunar Mates One
By
Loribelle Hunt
Author's Note
Welcome to Lunar Mates! Under Cover Of The Moon was first published in 2006 and to celebrate its ten year anniversary has been revised and expanded from 17,000 to 20,000 words. Over the next few months I will be releasing editions of the other eight books in the series. Next up is Bad Moon Rising which will be available in late September 2016, followed by Chasing The Moon and Call Of The Moon in October 2016. If you'd like to be notified of new releases join my mailing list or my Facebook Reader Group for updates.
BLURB
Darius Stewart has been banished and offered the leadership of a new pack. With the pack to settle and a rogue wolf terrorizing the local population, threatening to expose their species, the last thing he needs is a mate further complicating his life.
That’s just fine with Meg O’Reilly. A witch, she knows something is not right in her town. Discovering there are good werewolves, bad werewolves, and the possessive, bossy, sexy alpha wolf trying to take over her life is not exactly welcome. Too bad she can't seem to keep her distance.
Table of Contents
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT
COPYRIGHT
Prologue
The courtyard outside the community hall was filled to capacity. It should have felt like any other pack meeting. It was anything but. This meeting would change Darius's life. Would rip apart his best friendships and uproot him from his home. He knew that in his bones, and the shock of it held him still. To act for his own best interests would be a worse betrayal. It wasn't Jackson's or Eric's or Trey's fault they were here now, but that didn’t make it suck any less.
Several men stopped and quietly wished him luck, but more visited the man standing on the opposite side of the small courtyard in front. Jackson. One of his best fucking friends, and who now stood on the opposite of a huge divide. One of them would lead here, and it was extremely likely it wouldn’t be Darius. He would have to leave if he wasn’t picked. A pack couldn’t have two alphas.
His gaze skated to the council, all alphas except Anthony, the leader of the hunters, who stood back in an isolated circle and took it all in. He'd met all of them before, at some point or other over the years. They were all his father's generation, except Anthony and Gage, the panhandle pack alpha. Darius tried to look at the situation from their point of view. He knew what they'd be thinking. Knew what their reasoning would be. They'd come to appoint a new alpha to the pack because Brant had died without warning and without naming a successor. Normally, that wouldn’t have been necessary, but nothing was normal here.
They weren’t just look for a strong leader. They’d choose someone well respected by the majority of the adult males. Brant had ruled the clan with an iron fist, and Darius was considered the most like Brant, who’d also excelled at pitting him against Jackson. He’d maneuvered them like a chess master, weakening the only two males strong enough to challenge his rule.
Darius doubted he was the upcoming choice. The pack had stagnated under Brant’s leadership. It's members were looking for something new and a lot more freedom. He couldn’t blame them—he wanted more freedom himself.
He gritted his teeth. Never mind that he was cast in the same mold. He was Brant’s Enforcer, and that made him unpopular except for a few loyal childhood friends who saw beyond his official function. Like Jackson, his opponent. Another made his way through the bottleneck at the courtyard’s entrance and came to stand beside him. He released a sigh of relief. He should have known Eric would stand at his side.
“Evening.”
Darius snorted in response. Yeah, best to leave the “good” off that.
Eric nodded toward the group across the courtyard. “Jackson’s got quite a crowd over there.”
“Noticed that.”
“Talkative tonight, huh?” Eric grinned.
Darius bit back a laugh. A few weeks earlier Eric had claimed his mate, and he had been irrepressibly, and irritatingly, cheerful ever since. If Darius weren’t so happy for his old friend, he’d be tempted to strangle him.
“That’s good. I can talk for both of us.” Eric changed the subject. “Trey’s back. Have you seen him?”
“No.”
It worried him. Darius had counted on Trey’s unspoken support during the Naming, but so far Trey had avoided him since his return two days ago.
“Not to worry. He’s avoiding us all. I think that’s a good sign, actually. Maybe he’s finally going to retire from the hunters.”
Darius raised an eyebrow.
Eric shrugged. “Why avoid any of us if he wasn’t? He wouldn’t have any say in this. If he leaves the hunters, he’ll have to choose. We all know someone’s getting banished tonight.” And they all knew those odds were in Darius’s favor.
Eric nodded toward the entrance. “There he is now.”
They turned to watch as the sea of people parted to let Trey through. It wasn’t that he looked so imposing, though he did. It had been his choice to become a hunter at such a young age--barely sixteen--after his parents had been killed by a rogue werewolf, that no one ever forgot. Trey had joined the group of lone wolves who hunted shifters who'd gone rogue, and as a result was barred from ever becoming alpha or beta of a pack. He'd lasted a damned long time at it too, earning himself a reputation as ruthless, merciless, and cold-blooded. They said he never gave up and never lost his quarry.
Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw Jackson also turn to watch Trey’s entrance. He passed the three of them without even a flicker of recognition, and Jackson caught his eye with a small nod just before he turned back to the people around him. The four of them had been inseparable as boys and teenagers until Trey’s parents were killed, and Darius hated this stiff distance between them.
He wanted to grab Eric and Jackson, chase down Trey and shake him until he spoke to one of them. Darius was worried about him. His years as a hunter were wearing on him, and he’d grown increasingly more remote and isolated. If he didn’t quit soon, Darius was afraid he’d never regain any kind of normal life.
Yet despite current appearances, he knew he could count on Trey. As a hunter he was required to be impartial, but in private he always gave sound advice. If Trey left the hunters, Darius was almost positive Trey would join him. Eric would act as Beta, and Trey as Enforcer. Jackson could be the one to either submit, or be banished. That had always been his plan at least. Then Brant when and died so unexpectedly. He repressed a growl. First he’d have to save Trey from himself, though, and figure out where they were going.
Gage had pulled him aside yesterday and gone over a few options, while making it clear the council hadn’t made any decisions yet and he'd had the same conversation with Jackson. Gage Rylon was an enigma. Brant had had Darius research him when Gage had been elevated to alpha. The youngest alpha in the eight packs in the US had no history. No one knew who his parents were or what pack he'd come from. He'd simply shown up as member of the panhandle pack when he was thirteen.
Gage had offered him a place in his pack but Darius had declined. They both knew it was a bad fit. His wolf nature, hard and dominant, would want to challenge Gage. Darius was pretty sure if he ever made that mistake Gage could tear him apart quickly and without blinking
an eye. It was an uncomfortable knowledge. There were very few werewolves Darius doubted his ability to take in a fight.
The stragglers made their way inside and the council followed in quick order, Gage pausing long enough to catch his gaze and nod. Eric slipped in behind them. Darius and Jackson waited until everyone entered and then approached the door together. Silence fell over the large crowd as they entered. It looked like every able-bodied male in the pack had shown up. The hall appeared to be filled to its 300-person capacity. The combined excitement of the masses charged the air. He spotted Eric and Trey in the crowd, Eric surrounded by Darius's few supporters, and Trey by the natural buffer that seemed to follow him.
He was going to have to do something about that, but it would have to wait. He turned his focus to his most immediate problem. His vision narrowed to the table before him where the Gage, apparently speaking for all the alphas, took center stage, flanked by the other six. They'd probably meant to show their own strength by putting their youngest member in the hot seat in front a crowd that could turn hostile at any minute. It had the opposite effect.
“Darius Stewart,” Gage said, pausing until he stepped forward. “You are to be banished.”
He'd expected it but still reeled like he’d taken a punch to the gut. He was amazed he stayed on his feet and answered in the appropriate places. It was a conversation Eric would have to relate later. To lose one’s clan was practically a death sentence, the worst punishment that could be imposed on a werewolf. The room cleared, and soon only Trey and the other alphas were left. In the haze, he heard Trey say that he would follow Darius to Alabama.
Chapter One
She was his. And it was not something he was entirely comfortable with. He hadn’t thought he was in the market for a mate. The last month had been hell. Biology was a bitch.
He had located his pack in this small town on the boundary of a state park in southern Alabama, just as he had been ordered. The council, through Gage, had offered three other locations that had once been pack land. This was the best place for the men who'd chosen to follow him. It was an excellent location--a successful small town on the edge of wilderness--and was already starting to feel like home. Everyone had already found work and there was room to run. A man could stretch his legs here. So could a wolf.
One month of banishment had eased his anger at Jackson, and his old friend was now in charge of the home pack. It had come close to open conflict before the council had stepped in to banish Darius. He hadn’t realized how bad it was until the decision had been made and he should have. Part of what made him a good leader was his ability to judge the people around him.
They were a small group. Werewolves hated change more than almost everything else, but ten males, six of them mated, had decided to make the move and form a new pack. He had one year to settle in and be officially recognized. One year to prove his capabilities before someone tried to wrest his pack from him. If that happened it would be an outsider, but he wasn’t concerned about it.
All those praying for his failure, and he had no doubt there were many, were in for a disappointment. If the council did not approve his leadership at the completion of the year, any male could try to take it, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it. He had eleven months left.
A mate would strengthen his position as Alpha. He grimaced. Weres of all breeds looked forward to finding their mates, to settling down to monogamy and having kids. What was he doing? Worrying about securing his power. It beat the alternative--figuring out how to claim the woman he wanted. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she was it. With a capital T. Stubborn. Sexy. Independent. Smart as a whip. And did he mention stubborn?
Meg O’Reilly was the owner and proprietor of O’Reilly’s Bar and Grill. He dragged a deep breath of air into his lungs, trying to resurrect the memory of her scent, sweet and spicy, and meant for him alone. Her skin was pale and clear, and he knew it would be smooth beneath his fingers. She was beautiful, small and curvy, with flowing chestnut brown hair, and he couldn’t wait to discover how she tasted. It was time for her to stop running.
He had walked into O’Reilly’s for the first time four weeks ago. She was the first person he saw when he pulled open the heavy wood door and crossed the threshold. Standing behind the long bar on a sidewall, she was laughing and flirting with a customer while pouring a beer from the tap. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face, the elegant line of her neck exposed. A wall of unfamiliar emotions--jealousy, lust, possessiveness, and many he didn’t dare try to name--hit him. It was unsettling, and she stiffened as if sensing his uneasy entrance.
Afraid she’d bolt, he approached her with the good-natured newcomer façade he’d worn that first week. Her eyes were brown, the first thing he noticed on close inspection. What should have been warm chocolate gave him a frigid reception. With cool politeness, she returned his introduction and welcomed him to town.
He was more accustomed to women throwing themselves at him than making a point of ignoring him. She should feel the same emotions he did, raging lust at the very least. Then he noticed the frantic pulse beating in her neck and caught the faint whiff of her fear. He was amazed she had such control over her responses and realized with satisfaction she was not as unaffected by him as she wanted him to believe. Later he heard the rumors that she was a witch and wondered how much that had to do with it.
But she was skittish. It was okay. He had time. Or he had had time. He’d thought between charm and lust he would overcome her wariness in a matter of days, but except for a few stilted conversations, she’d avoided him since their first meeting. She’d put him off for three weeks, and the full moon was coming. With any other woman it wouldn’t matter. No other woman brought out the proprietary nature of the wolf in him, the animal instinct to claim his mate. For the first time in his life, he doubted his ability to control it. Her damned stubbornness put her in danger.
Tonight he would end it. Tonight he would stalk her as he would any other prey. And God help her if she put him off again. He was too tempted to spank her mouth-watering ass as it was. For the first time in days, he smiled. That was a plan with merit.
Chapter Two
Meg ran errands all day and tried not to obsess over Darius Stewart. The man was too sexy for words. Had she only met him a few weeks ago? Not even a full month yet? For the amount of time she spent trying not to think of him, that seemed impossible. She’d fought a deep impulse to seek him out for several days, and it scared her. She was a woman who enjoyed her independence and chose partners when the desire struck. She had never needed a man, but her libido had gone into overdrive since encountering this one.
She was a witch, like her mother and grandmother before her, and her instinct was flawless. It was a talent that had always served her well. She knew things, and felt the strong emotions of those around her. Sometimes she even caught a stray thought. If she gave in to this newfound desire, she just knew her life would be altered beyond anything she recognized. She would find herself tied to him in ways that defied human nature.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She didn’t know what he was, but she was sure he wasn’t entirely human. To make matters worse, she sensed there were more of them here. Whatever they were.
Despite knowing that, she had to fight the urge to go to him. She woke every morning with need crawling through her. The longer she avoided him, the worse it got. It was pure obstinacy that kept her from seeking him out. Well, and a healthy dose of self-preservation. She sighed. It wouldn’t be long before she gave in to the pull of the odd attraction between them.
She exited the bank, and the town’s clock tower chimed the time. Five o’clock. She was finished with the last item on her must-do list for the day, and the night seemed to stretch endlessly before her. She didn’t have to be behind the bar until ten, but she did have to be there. Sensing a new resolve in Darius, she’d juggled the schedule and had the other bartender cover for her the last tw
o nights, but she couldn’t skip out forever. He might not even show up. She snorted. Yeah right. His visit was as inevitable as the setting sun
Meg decided to take advantage of the hours before work and visit her friends in the businesses around the bar. It was a nice spring afternoon, warm without the South’s requisite sky-high humidity, and perfect for wandering around the downtown streets. It would also keep her away from her phone. Darius had called so often, she didn’t even need to check the caller ID anymore when it rang.
Her stomach grumbled. Okay, that told her food was the first order of business, something sinful to tide her over. She darted across the street to the bakery her older cousin, Tara Burke, ran. Spying Meg through the window, Tara smiled. A tall, good-looking man leaned attentively over the counter, and Tara blushed. That was interesting. It was about time someone caught her eye.
The scent of freshly baked bread wafted around Meg when she opened the door, and she breathed it in deeply. It was warm and mellow, and when she crossed the threshold she felt some of the tension of the last few days slip away.
The man straightened and nodded in acknowledgement, then picked up his Styrofoam cup and walked out the door. The town was filled with dark, mysterious strangers these days. Were they all like Darius? Suspecting most were, she craned her neck to watch him leave and turned to Tara with a grin.
“Who’s the hottie?” she teased, watching the blush return to her cousin’s cheeks.
“His name is Trey.” Tara wiped a rag along the top of the counter before adding sternly, “He's just a customer. Don’t get any ideas.”
Grinning, Meg walked over and leaned against the rounded glass display case. “That’s not what it looked like. Looked pretty up close and personal to me.”
Tara groaned in response and held up her hand, which was wrapped in a bandage. “No, I cut myself. He was just looking to see if I put the gauze on too tight. I swear, he walks in and I turn into Queen Klutz. Trust me, he’s not interested. He probably thinks I’m a complete flake.”
Under Cover Of The Moon (Lunar Mates Book 1) Page 1