Birthright (Pale Moonlight Book 1)

by Marie Johnston

  “Um, she is here, and is an adult.” Irritation from Maggie filled the cab. “I’ll make my own decisions from now on, do you both understand?”

  “Maggie,” Armana pleaded, “please find the Guardians. They will protect you.”

  “I’ve been overprotected my whole life,” Maggie muttered. “I’ll call when I make my decision, Ma. Now run. Please.”

  “Very well. Be safe.”

  ***

  Armana disconnected, looking forlornly at the phone. She’d given up everything to keep them safe and it wasn’t enough.

  She looked around the house she had scrimped and saved for while knowing eventually she’d have to leave. Human acquaintances she’d known for years already marveled over how youthful she looked.

  She’d stalled too long and the past caught up with her daughter.

  Jace was a Guardian?

  How he must hate her. Armana hated herself for the way she’d had to treat him after he went to prison. Jace had a right to know the truth about why.

  The Guardians could help her family. It’s why she’d stayed in Freemont regardless of its proximity to Lobo Springs. Big enough to get lost in, but with an honorable Guardian pack nearby if she ever needed help. That, and she’d had no funds to carry her further with two small children.

  She didn’t need help, but Maggie did. And she owed Jace after what she’d done to him.

  Armana moved around her tiny house, pulling curtains shut like she did every night. Maggie always teased her about her fastidious nature, but what her daughter didn’t know was that it was for survival. She’d never had enough money to run far from Seamus, so her only option had been to completely remove her family from shifter life.

  Some might condemn her decision, but they were welcome to find themselves in the same tight spot and see what they’d do.

  Porter Denlan. She’d heard the derision in his voice. Her memory of every shifter in what was then called Great Moon remained clear as a bell. The last night there was branded in her brain, like the image of a young Porter draped over his bloodied mother. He’d always been a good kid. She wondered how he’d changed since the attack.

  Her daughter’s mate.

  Armana sighed. She had wished fervently that Maggie wouldn’t run across her mate for several decades, and more importantly that he wasn’t anyone from Lobo Springs.

  Sweet Mother, what a mess.

  She threw clothing into a bag and tossed a few toiletries on top. Unless the West Creek Guardians had moved, she knew approximately where their pack resided. And if Porter wanted what was best for Maggie, he’d bring her there immediately.

  But Armana had another stop to make first.

  Chapter Five

  Maggie fumed. Porter thought he was calling the shots and wanted to drag her to a colony she didn’t remember for a non-hostile, but maybe a little violent, takeover. Her mother apparently had a helluva secret to tell and wanted Maggie to run to the Guardians.

  And she didn’t even know who they were!

  “What exactly are the Guardians?”

  Porter’s brows shot up before he shook his head, flabbergasted at her lack of knowledge.

  “For fuck’s sake, is it a big deal that I don’t know all this? I mean I was doing just fine until the Loco Springs crew showed up.”

  Yeah, she’d messed up the name on purpose, and it vexed him so. She made a note to do it more often.

  “Guardians are the police force for our kind. The Lycan and Vampire Councils were dismantled last year, and our new government, the TriSpecies Synod, integrated shifters and vampires.”

  “Tri? What’s the third species?”

  “Hybrids.”

  Shifters and vampires got it on? Maggie sighed.

  Overall, it sounded easy enough to understand. Had to be better than learning about the branches of the US government in school. The biggest bonus was that Porter smelled much better than sitting among a mass of smells-like-teen-spirit with her superior sense of smell. “Was that momentous?”

  “Yeeahh, you could say that.”

  Maggie wanted to be offended, she really did, but she made the mistake of looking at him. Running a hand through his dark hair to sweep it off his forehead, his other arm draped across the steering wheel, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean torso, he jacked up her insides. Her girl parts weren’t confused or in turmoil; they were demanding to have the male next to her.

  To her mortification, he could probably smell it.

  Why couldn’t she detect sexual frustration on him?

  He set his elbow by the window, resting his head in his hand, streetlights flashing across his stark features. All she sensed from him was trepidation and resolve.

  Maggie’s desire was going to clog the cab of his truck if she couldn’t get herself under control.

  “Have you been estranged from Jace?”

  “Yeeahh, you could say that.” How does it feel, jackass? Instead of being affronted, his lips quirked, and it sucked the fun right of her sarcastic remark.

  She sighed and committed herself to the words spilling from her, as if it would be enough for anyone to understand how she’d abandoned her kin. “Was it wrong? Yes. But I was afraid I’d lose Ma if I associated with my own brother.” Chalk another note up on her guilt board.

  “What’d he do?”

  No one else knew but her, Jace, and her mother, and possible Jace’s mate, who probably despised them by default. Before there’d been no one she could talk to about the whole situation, or her life, really. The attack back at her apartment, Porter jumping in, something shifted between them. Perhaps just in her, but for once, she was going to admit to the reason behind her fractured relationship with her brother. “Saved my life.”

  Baffled, Porter ripped his eyes off the road to meet hers.

  “Yep. I was working at an old diner and this creepy guy kept hanging out around closing time. Jace usually gave me a ride home. One day he was late. We locked the diner, and I was stuck outside waiting for him. Creepy guy jumped me.”

  Maggie rested her head back on the seat. She should ask where they were going, but right now she didn’t care. Their conversation was cathartic, and the shameful part hadn’t yet been spoken. How Porter would react, she didn’t know, but the tiny space within the cab, with him, felt safe. “He was a big shot. Rich. Connections. Jace hunted him down before I was hurt. Beat the shit out of him.”

  “Good.” Porter’s jaw flexed, looking like he’d hunt the bastard down to whip him again.

  “In the struggle, a nightstand got knocked over and…” Maggie shuddered at the memory. “All these pictures of the girls he abused before me spilled out. Jace made the ultimate decision to rid the world of his filth.”

  “Good,” Porter repeated.

  “For the world. Not for Jace. Raised poor, dressed like a thug, he was eaten alive in court. Brought too much attention to us and Ma quit anything to do with Jace. Ordered me to do the same.”

  And the shame had eaten her alive ever since.

  For the first time since she’d met him, she wished Porter would say something. Was he regretting who fate paired him with? From his appearance, he’d dropped everything to rush to Freemont for her, only to find out she wasn’t a shifter in shining armor. If she turned her back on her family, why in the world would he continue to recruit her to save a whole village?

  “That explains your weekend fun.”

  Maggie sputtered, then laughed. “It’s effective therapy for feeling like a worthless pansy for turning my back on Jace.”

  Porter’s smile died. “He’s mated to a human. The Guardians recruited him. He did okay for himself.”

  Maggie smiled sadly. “Because he’s a good guy.”

  “Guardians are born; we know them by scent. Promising shifters can be recruited, only with good reason. He protected you and your mom. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, never gave me any indication you were estranged. Didn’t even tell me he’d changed his name from Miller to S
tockwell when he was mated.”

  Aww, she’d always known he was an honorable male. His sinister features invited negative impressions from strangers, but Maggie hadn’t experienced anything from him but respect and caring. Stockwell sounded like a good name. She wasn’t particularly attached to Miller, either. Troye wasn’t really an option, even if it must be her real name. “Mage Troye, huh? Did you know me?”

  “I knew your family, of course, who you were, but no, I was just a little older then than you are now.”

  “That’s so weird.”

  “Not for us. You’ll get used to the way we live.”

  Uh, no, she wouldn’t. She was just fine living the way she was. That was a lie she wouldn’t get away with; she was repressed and unfulfilled.

  They pulled into the lot of a cheap chain motel. Maggie was tired, vacillated between running forever and finding her brother, but spending the night in the same room with Porter wasn’t on her list of options.

  “I’m not staying here with you.”

  Porter found a parking spot and killed the engine. “We’re not staying here.” At her questioning look, he pointed behind them to another low budget motel. “We’re staying there. Then tomorrow morning, we’re finding another set of wheels because they’ll be looking for my truck.”

  He had a point and a decent plan…that still involved her sleeping in the same room as him. “I’m not going to Lobo Springs.”

  “We’ll talk in the room.”

  He climbed out, seemingly unfazed by the prospect of sleeping close to her. Attempting rest in the same room as a sexy carpenter certainly rattled her.

  ***

  “One queen-sized bed, please.”

  Porter ignored the jab in his shins and the glare from a stunning set of pale blue eyes.

  He paid in cash, grabbed the key, and flashed her a wolfish grin.

  She rounded on him as soon as they entered their room. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking it was cheaper. Do you have any cash on you?” Porter had more than enough, but she didn’t have to know that.

  She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, eyeing the bed dubiously. “I can go to the bank tomorrow.”

  “Not on a Sunday. You can use the bathroom first. I’m going to comb the yellow pages looking for a car rental place that’s open tomorrow.”

  Maggie stomped into the bathroom and Porter bit back a laugh. She was afraid she’d give in to her urges around him. He’d been fighting them all night to keep from pulling into a secluded spot and discovering how long it would take to pull down her tight pants.

  They were mates and now she knew it. What she didn’t know was how dedicated to each other mates were. Porter planned to use it against her. Her insistence that Lobo Springs meant nothing to her ratcheted up his determination to get her there. If she stepped foot in the place of her birth, it’d settle into her bones, she’d attach to the people. Then she wouldn’t be able to leave it to Seamus’ mercy.

  Maggie sauntered out of the bathroom, completely dressed, but her shiny hair hung down her back. His fingers itched to bury themselves in it. He’d built a mahogany cabinet once out of aged wood that had developed into a deep, rich brown like her hair. How fitting he’d describe her hair like that.

  Kicking off her shoes, she toed them next to the bed and crawled between the covers.

  Settle in sweetheart. Porter took his turn in the bathroom, neatly hanging up his pants and shirt on the door hook. When he was done, the lights were off. Not an issue for a shifter, just a signal from Maggie that she only planned on sleeping.

  Her still form curled in the blankets, facing the wall, was another signal. One Porter planned to ignore. He settled in next to her.

  Maggie twisted to peer at him, her eyes opening wide at his nudity. “What are you doing? Where are your clothes?”

  He reclined on his back, his arms behind his head. “Resting, and hanging up in the bathroom.”

  “So you just thought you’d slide into bed naked?”

  “We’re open with our bodies. It’s not like we can have someone waiting with a robe when we shift to our wolf and back.”

  “I can’t sleep with you like that. There’s a chair for you.”

  A tiny leather one offering no more room than a folding chair. “I don’t think so, beautiful.”

  “Then I’ll sleep there.”

  She threw the sheets back, but Porter grabbed her arm, rolling her under him, anchoring her arms above her head. She gasped, shocked he moved so quickly. Gulping she looked around as if noticing for the first time she was on her back, he stretched over her, and she was pinned.

  “We’re both adults, Maggie. What are you afraid of?”

  She strained against his grip, her pelvis pushing up against his groin. Felt so good. His erection free of any restraints. The raspy material of her jeans exquisite agony against his tender flesh.

  “Are you worried that I’d do this?” He dropped his head and captured the incensed words before they left her mouth.

  She tasted divine. Anger, mixed with lust, mixed with Maggie’s unique scent of…he couldn’t put a finger on it. It’d been driving him crazy since he met her. She had a familiar floral scent, but with a touch of sweetness that drove him absolutely nuts.

  Deepening the kiss, his tongue delved inside. And was greeted by sharp teeth.

  “Ow!” He reared back, letting her hands go, and rolling to the side. He tasted blood, but he’d already healed.

  She sat up, anger radiating from her, her eyes slightly glowing. “I am an adult shifter female, but it doesn’t mean I need to give in to my baser desires—mate or not.”

  The nipples poking through her shirt revealed she needed something. She noticed the direction of his gaze and crossed her arms.

  Seducing his mate should not be this difficult. “I don’t get it, Maggie. Casual sex is part of our DNA. Surely, you’ve been out experimenting.”

  “I’ve done my share.” The mulish pout to her lips belayed her experience. She thought he might condemn her, but why would he? Sex was natural.

  “Forget the fact that we’re mates if that bothers you.” And why does it again? “How is this different from picking a dude up at a club and hitting it wherever it’s convenient?”

  Her mouth worked. She wanted to tell him to fuck off, he could feel it, but there was something else there. Something she was—he inhaled deeply to determine the emotion—embarrassed about confessing.

  Raised human.

  His eyes flew wide. “Holy shit, you haven’t been with a shifter?” The swell rose from his belly until his laughter boomed through the room.

  Oomph. Maggie punched him in the stomach, but it didn’t faze him.

  When he died down to normal breathing, he grinned wide enough to show his incisors. “Oh beautiful, you are in for a treat.”

  Ahhh, there it was. The desire he’d scented from her all night hit an all-time high. She drew the corner of her lower lip in, chewing on it because she couldn’t take her eyes off his hint of fang.

  The idea of being Maggie’s first shifter lay was a damn fine feeling. His chest might have puffed up—just a little.

  “I’m not having sex with you tonight when we’re on the run, I’m afraid for my mother, and you claim we’re mates. I haven’t needed to see my previous bedmates again, but you’ll still be here.”

  “You bet your sweet ass.” Porter laid back, lacing his fingers behind his head. She tensed to get off the bed. “Why not have just a taste, Mage. Relieve your pressure.”

  She blinked and frowned, but she didn’t correct him. It was her name, he’d make her get used to it. Just like she needed to accept that Lobo Springs was her home. Her life had changed in a day and she’d been taking it in stride, but from the emotions drifting through her features, she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. Not by the news of Lobo Springs, the attack, or especially him.

  He internally rejoiced when her decision settled into her gaze. Any re
lief she took with him would effectively ease his own pressure.

  Smoothly, she swung a leg over him, sitting astride his body, and anchored her hands on his shoulders, her hair hanging down to curtain her face. Porter sucked in a breath.

  “Did you mean to intimidate me? Or think I couldn’t resist you?” She rocked on the erection trapped between them. “I’m not a victim looking for a hero.”

  “Never thought you were.” He unlaced his hands, his fingers aching to touch her skin again.

  “Leave them there. I’m in charge.”

  Deciding the turn of events was more than acceptable, he settled back, hands behind his head. She seemed captivated by the way his biceps flexed, the lick of her gaze running from them to his bare chest, down his washboard stomach.

  Betcha never seen this before on your human partners, Porter thought smugly. Shifters were lean and mean, but carpentry kept him in prime condition.

  Her pink tongue flicked out, wetting her bottom lip.

  His growl vibrated between them. Her eyes flew up to his.

  “Are you growling?”

  “As a male does when he’s incredibly turned on.” Her long mane swayed. He had future plans for that hair. It’d be perfect to yank her head to the side while he drove into her from behind, baring her neck for his mark.

  She continued to rock over him, her eyes glassy with passion.

  “It’d feel better with your jeans out of the way.” His voice was as heavy as his balls dying to be released by her touch.

  “Not a chance,” she panted. The seam of her jeans dug into his sensitive skin. He was never one for pain for pleasure—until now.

  “Your sweatshirt,” he rasped.

  She hitched a breath, her pace unaltered. She whipped it off, throwing it behind her.

  Fuuuck. Porter quit breathing, his hands drifting to her bouncing, creamy breasts, contained in a lacy black bra.

  “What’d I tell you about your hands?” Grinding down harder, her breaths coming faster, she was getting close.

  He snapped his hands back because no way in hell did he want to give her a reason to stop, he enjoyed the show.