Moonlight Magic: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 9)

by K. R. Alexander

  “Or maybe you’re giving up on me? You offered me everything—over and over again. I turned away or told you to wait, or even literally ran from you. Remember that? I think I still have a bump on my head. Because Goddess was telling me to stay. So you bent over backwards for me but I’ve finally worn you down. You’re done. Ready to move on. Ready to find a mate who can give you undivided attention, and admiration you’ve always deserved.”

  I looked up from our hands. “I don’t think it’s those things. Maybe certain elements of them have been hard on you—understandably so. But I can’t believe that would be enough to drive away one of the most loving and loyal people I’ve ever known.”

  I paused and he finally met my eyes, his deep brown ones in agony.

  “I think it’s that you’re afraid.” Dropping my voice even more. “Just like I’ve been so often. Just like we all are. Only you feel so much more, and have lost so much, you’re having to take drastic action over it. Fear is one of the most powerful emotions, the most primal, the hardest to get under control with our logical brains. The most overwhelming, so we can think of nothing else. Or is that love? One or the other has to be stronger. Even when an unstoppable force meets an immovable wall something has to happen.”

  I paused, then, “Who wins?”

  “Cass—” His voice broke and he clenched his jaw for a moment before continuing. “Either of us could be killed any day out here. We don’t know what will happen even minute by minute.”

  “You think you can protect yourself like that? You think your father or mother or soulmate can die and rip a hole in your heart, crush you with a loss that you will never completely get over, and you can say, ‘Fine. I just won’t ever love anyone again.’? You think that would be a life worth living? Think because I have other guys to distract me—and Isaac’s a good fit and Andrew needs my help and whatever all—that I just wouldn’t notice you jumping ship? You think that when things get really dark, really horrible so you don’t want to get out of bed the next day—don’t ever even want to wake up—that you can throw in the towel and change your most basic, most fundamental self with a decision not to feel anymore and that will solve something?”

  I clenched my own teeth, tears dripping off my lashes, then forced my voice on. “I understand being afraid. And loss, and fear of more loss, and that void when something has changed that you can never get back. Which is why I also understand enough to tell you that when you get really scared and people are dying and your world is going dark, that’s exactly when you never let go. You hold on, and hold on tighter, doing whatever it takes to have someone in your life—whether it’s a lover or sibling or friend or neighbor, or even a paid professional—who can be your light in the darkness. Or at the very least hold hands while you walk through the dark together.”

  I moved closer, clutching his hand in both of mine. “I don’t know what all you’re going through, and I’m sorry this is so hard for you—and you feel like you can’t open up. Maybe it’s too much to open up about. But I do know this can only be okay with me, and I can only let you go and respect your choice, if you can first tell me what you are feeling and that your reason for space is not all about fear.”

  “Cass … I can’t… I don’t know what to do…” He shut his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks.

  I pulled his face against my shoulder. “That’s fine,” I whispered, voice cracked. “That’s perfectly okay. That just means a good time to hold on tighter.”

  He wrapped his arms around my back, and gasped, “I don’t know what to do without her. I don’t have a home to go back to. I can’t lose you also.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “Cass, I don’t want you to need me like I need you. If you need someone like that and one day they’re gone…”

  “What about all the days we’re here? What about how proud she is of what you are doing? What about how joyful she would be to know you are in love, and loved, and working together with your brothers to save the rest of your pack? What about honoring her legacy by paying it forward with love, not fear, and solving this?”

  I held his back with one hand, the other in his hair, both of us pulling the other in.

  “You can always tell me how you feel,” I whispered while he shook. “And it will always be my privilege to be your confidant. Always.”

  Several shuddering breaths later Zar answered, “I love you.”

  Chapter 32

  “Belle? You in here?”

  “We’re in the loft. Everything all right?”

  “Precisely what we were going to ask. Wondering if it’s time to push on, darling.” As he spoke, Andrew slid the door partly open.

  I couldn’t see them where I lay on my side, stroking Zar’s jaw and looking into his eyes, but assumed Andrew still had Jason as companion.

  “Has anyone managed to speak to Ronny? Or other older locals?”

  “Maybe… Isaac’s been making an effort at least.”

  “Not you?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hayloft.”

  “You and lady-hair rolling in the hay?” Andrew huffed. “Bloody hell, you ask a lot. ‘Here, chaps, get this job done. I’m busy.’”

  “Hmm… Not exactly. You’re welcome to come up here. It’s very pleasant. Although I suppose we should go back.”

  Zar had given a tiny smile at Andrew’s words, which made me smile in relief. He kissed my lips silently. Just a touch.

  “I’ve never gone in for the farm-hand scene,” Andrew said, but I could tell he was crossing to the ladder. Another step as well, though Jason said nothing. “More a bellboy, butler, caviar and crème brûlée scene. Particularly if it can be nibbled from certain body parts.”

  “I thought that was caramel sauce?”

  “For you, darling, I’d nibble dark chocolate.”

  “Don’t go all masochist on me.” I turned on my back so I could see as Andrew’s head appeared at the top of the ladder, followed by shoulders and chest.

  His self-satisfied smile faded until he was glaring at us. “Really?”

  “What?” I asked.

  Below, Jason echoed me. “What’s wrong, Switch?”

  “Nothing,” Andrew muttered. “Just lying there like they’re at a picnic. All dressed and everything.” Then to me, “I told you we’d have another sometime.”

  “That’s a bit off-topic. Why are you scowling? We’ll come with you. We’ve barely been gone half an hour.”

  Andrew shrugged and climbed back down. We might have been anticlimactic for him, but, for me, it had been an eclipse time sitting in the loft with Zar—talking, then holding on, then looking into one another’s eyes in the gloom to say so much more in silence. I hoped it had been one for him also.

  “He just wanted you to be more scandalous,” Jason said.

  “I already told him we were coming out here to talk,” I said. “And that we were lying down up here. That’s exactly what we’ve done. Why do males think everything is innuendo?”

  “Probably because most of what they say to females is,” Jason mused. “Or in any way meant to imply, persuade, or push their own agendas.”

  “Shut up, Jay.” Andrew thumped back to the floor.

  The goats shifted and murmured.

  I kissed Zar and we sat up to follow Andrew down.

  “You okay to go back?” I leaned on him for a moment.

  Zar nodded.

  “Andrew? Is there still a lot of food?”

  “Plenty. It’s the drink that’s been hit hard.”

  I spoke softly to Zar. “Will you get something else to eat? We’ll do one more round of asking for leads, then get out of here.”

  By the time we climbed down, Jason and Andrew were discussing the goats. Apparently Andrew found their “creepy” and “sinister” eyes disturbing, while Jason found them intriguing but didn’t get too close because their presence made the goats nervous.

  “Do they really have creepy eyes?” I asked as I hopped from the ladder.

  �
��You take a look and tell us.” Andrew retreated to the door.

  They did have at least strange eyes, if not actually sinister, with wavy, horizontal pupils and inscrutable expressions. Jason told Zar to come over for a look, but I hustled everyone out. The goats clearly found the nearby smell of the wolves nearly as unsettling as Andrew found them.

  The byre hadn’t seemed especially warm, nor bright, but returning to the starry night of the farmyard left me chilled and nearly blind. I longed to get out of here, yet dreaded bedtime even more than staying. At least here we could sit around the fire. Returning to the trailer meant another frigid night, no warm shower to look forward to, and no chance of any more privacy with Zar.

  I dragged back some focus as we returned to the group. Zar, who’d remembered to grab the bowl off the tractor tire and toss it in a designated bin—striking me as poignant with this respect for others amidst everything else—went to forage for a snack while we met Gabriel and Isaac. They appeared equally ready to leave.

  “There was an older local man, Ronny, who—there he is,” I started. “Anyone talk to him? Then let’s try, thank Shona, and get out of here.”

  They followed me to the bonfire and old Scotsman. He was now immersed in a story to a group of kids about fire elementals. He shouted at me to tell them it was true—because no one ever believed him anymore.

  This seemed a perfectly good opening.

  “Actually, we wanted to ask you about something you might know. We’re trying to find a couple of mages from the Highlands. Powerful, affinity with animals—like a pet badger. Their names are—”

  “Calum and Frim?” He barked in a rough old smoker’s voice. The grateful kids were already scattering.

  I caught my breath. “Yes. You’ve heard of them?”

  “Oh, aye. Can’t be in our Highlands and not.”

  “Then, maybe you know where we might find them?”

  “Of course I know.” With scorn and irritation, waving a hand. “They’re right over there.”

  Chapter 33

  Ears ringing, palms damp, I clutched my magic around me like a suit of armor as we approached the two men after a murmured conference.

  They sat at one of the few tables, now otherwise empty and mostly left in the dark besides a torch in a long pole stuck in the ground at each end. A badger crunched through left-behind paper plates, eating everything from melon rinds to bits of pasta salad. The young men were on the bench at the far side, so they could face the main group and bonfire, though they seemed to be paying it no attention. No bird in evidence.

  There wasn’t much to distinguish in the light. One built like a pencil, the other red-haired and of a normal stature. Both scruffy, the tall one bearded, hair disheveled as if they’d just rolled out of bed.

  They had apparently been eating veraciously, a couple of plates and bowls and cups piled before them. How long had they been here?

  The discussion between them was lively. At first I thought they were arguing, then merely that one was trying to tell a story while the other kept interrupting.

  We were right beside the table, and badger that was licking out a tipped over cup with mead left in it, before the men bothered to look around. The tall bearded one squinted at us in a way that made me wonder how many meads he’d been through. The redhead frowned, taking in Andrew, Jason, Isaac, Gabriel, and me with a sharper eye than his companion. Only then did the badger also look around. After a beady-eyed stare, it went back to work.

  “Good evening,” I said quietly. “Would you happen to be—?”

  “Oh!” The tall one cried as if having come up with the answer on a game show. “Yer the scrying witch!” He laughed immoderately, slapping the other on the back—though he leaned away, glaring. “Told ya, didn’t I? I said we’d see her again.”

  “A capital do, only who’re the bloody bodyguards?” the other said under his breath. “Why’d she trot here when she couldn’t be bothered to get our dinner last night, eh?”

  “Embarrassed? All wet, right enough? A lass wouldn’t follow up after something like that.” Giggling, he mimed putting on lipstick while the other replied.

  “Sure she went in then?”

  “Oh, cripes, sure. Told ya and told ya. Yer alus so bloody pessimistic. Downtrodden sod… Don’t know how we all stand ya.”

  “Are you Calum and Frim?” I asked.

  “Nay, we’re Rumpelstiltskin and Easter Bunny. Ya can make up for not buying us dinner by having a care for an empty cup.” The bearded one lifted his and the other did the same.

  I glanced at Andrew, who hurried off. “Of course. Mind if we join you? Did you already get dessert?”

  We pulled out folding chairs and settled down. Isaac remained on his feet.

  “Only what he picked up, the stingy dobber.” The tall one elbowed the redhead. “Share and share alike? What’d ya fancy?” He lifted both hands as if beckoning over a waiter.

  I felt the magic in a quick flow of energy that made me shiver, though there was nothing cold about it.

  The next second the tray of cream puffs flew over my head to plunk onto the table between us. Both mages reached out. The badger was faster, setting upon the tray like a starved terrier.

  “Get yer daft beastie off it, Frim,” the tall one snapped as he gathered puffs in both hands and the badger snarled and snapped at him.

  Frim grabbed the animal around the middle to deposit on the bench.

  “Yer in the right ale?” Calum asked us, then stuffed his mouth with a puff. “Bobby Kelhune makes a mead of pure gold, I tell ya—” He went on elaborating about what we should be drinking, but it was lost as he kept eating at the same time.

  “Or they’ll go for Lizzy’s brownies,” Frim said critically as he looked us over, also eating. “Ever see such a stiff lot?”

  “Never did,” Calum said after a gulp. “Lizzy’s brownies would be just the ticket for the mess of them, right enough.”

  “What’s special about Lizzy’s brownies?” Jason asked, glancing sideways at me.

  “Send ya to the moon.” Calum gobbled another puff.

  “They’re … pot brownies?” Jason asked.

  I looked quickly at him while he stared back, eyebrows raised.

  “Best ever,” Frim said.

  Calum swallowed with an effort. “We’ll hail her down. Yer mess needs some.”

  “Wait—” I shook my head. “Those brownies on the table? They don’t warn people?”

  The two mages squinted toward the food tables.

  “Nay, nay…” Calum waved a hand. “Lizzy’s got them over there in a basket. Can’t be letting the wee ones grab them, or the whole do would be in a state, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh…” I drew a steadying breath as Andrew returned with a new bottle of red.

  He stared at the battered platter of cream puffs as he offered wine. Instead of taking the bottle, the two held up their cups. Calum crooked his finger, sending the cork rocketing away into the dark field.

  Andrew filled their cups to the brims and sat at the end of the table. Both gulped the stuff and took more while I talked to them.

  “That was quite a trap you set for me with the bridge. But if you really wanted someone to buy you dinner, why set it at all? If you don’t want following or dinner, or any of it, why allow yourselves to be scried?”

  Calum thunked down his cup with a splash of wine across the plastic tabletop. “Have some.” Shoving the plate. Jason and I each took one. “Why screen yer calls, then look up the number? A good ward is having no phone at all, eh? If some nyaff is looking for us we want to know. Ya didn’t seem much harm—couldn’t even bother showing up for a sup.”

  “Yes, you warded against me after that.”

  “Nay bother then.” He shrugged. “If one of yer strapping pals had a squint, we’d have a dozy with them too. Right? Ya have to target a ward—unless ya want to block all. If ya block all, ya’ll never know who’s ringing.” He stuffed his face again.

  Warding a
gainst a specific person? It made sense. I could do that. But some kind of magical alarm bell so that if you were scried you would connect with that person and have a chat? I wouldn’t even know where to begin with magic like that.

  Calum started on his third cup. And he’d been sloshy when we’d walked up.

  Isaac shifted beside and behind me but said nothing.

  “So,” I said, “you left the pub and put out sentries for us?”

  “Eh?” Frim frowned, eating and drinking at a much slower pace than his skinny companion.

  “What did you do when you left last night?” I asked.

  “Went home,” Calum said. “Ya figured we’d nowt better to do than wait around for ya?”

  “Sentries for what? Why did you want us in the first place?” Frim asked. “What are you doing out here? American witch at a Scottish solstice? You’re tourists?”

  I hesitated, watching their faces, trying to feel for something more. That instinct, that magic touch, that third eye that had told me Jason should come to Paris and Shona was safe. The four others also watched them.

  This intensity drew even Calum’s attention. The two men looked up from their dessert and around at our faces.

  “Something attacked us last night,” I said.

  They frowned.

  “You don’t know anything about that?” I asked.

  “Attacked ya?” Calum bit into a puff instead of shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “The publican throw ya out?”

  “Was it a kestrel?” Frim asked. “Bloody walloper’s gone off lately—real cheeky.”

  We all just looked at them for a minute.

  “No, it wasn’t a bird or a publican,” I said. “Someone tried to kill us last night. We thought you might have an idea who. It seems far-fetched to think it was mere coincidence that our paths should cross and right at that moment we would be attacked.”

  They gave us blank looks. Calum rubbed his eyes. He took another drink. Something thumped to the ground—the badger leaping into grass.