A Shifter's Claim (Pale Moonlight Book 4)

by Marie Johnston

  Waylon pivoted and ducked, fending off the shifter’s teeth and claws until he spotted an opening. Brynley was a good fighter, but she hadn’t been trained by Uncle Wolf, and she was fighting less than one-hundred percent. Without coming to an agreement, they put on a show. She knew he could’ve killed her brother and Jason.

  He wrestled on top of her and sank his fangs into her neck. Shaking his head, he pinned her to the ground.

  She yelped and squirmed, blasting him with doubts that were so loud and frantic, they didn’t make sense. When she went limp, playing her part, he was caught off guard.

  A heavy body landed on him. He and the new attacker went rolling. Langdon was first on his feet. Waylon’s adrenaline faltered. They faced off. Snarls and yelps spiked the air behind him.

  Your mate’s losing.

  Waylon couldn’t risk looking. He had faith that Shilo could handle a male bigger than herself. He’d seen her practice with her parents. She was quick and clever.

  But the iron tang of her blood tinted the air.

  Waylon bunched his haunches under him, but too late, the telltale tingle along his back alerted him. He lunged and—

  Went nowhere.

  What the hell?

  He strained, but he could not move one muscle. How his friends had been killed was suddenly clear.

  What’s wrong, brother? Scared stiff?

  That’s how you got to Charlie and Cass.

  Langdon bared his teeth and circled. If they’d been strong enough, they could’ve fought it, but that seems to be a common weakness with shifters from Ironhorse Falls. They lack power in all aspects, including their future leader.

  Waylon refused to rise to the bait. He had to think his way out of this.

  Waylon pushed against Langdon’s influence over him. His body quivered from the effort, but his paws remained rooted in place.

  The yelp that cut through the air was Shilo’s.

  No! He couldn’t lose her. Paulie was bigger, but he wasn’t as smart. Shilo could outmaneuver him. She had to.

  Langdon calmly padded to his side, sniffed his fur, and drove his fangs into Waylon’s neck—slowly. Brynley didn’t interfere. Her fear of Langdon couldn’t be the last thing he tasted.

  Sweet Mother, the pain. Langdon’s inexorable bite, his canines heading to his carotid—

  A blast echoed through the air. Langdon jerked, his mouth falling off him.

  Waylon lurched forward, the command to freeze gone. He spun around. Langdon had staggered to the side, red staining his hide. Who’d shot him?

  Waylon searched for Shilo. She and Paulie crouched across from each other, growling. The gunshot must’ve startled both of them enough to separate.

  Neither one appeared to be in good condition. Blood dripped from Shilo’s mouth and was spattered across her fur. She was favoring her right side and held her front right paw off the ground.

  Paulie wasn’t in any better shape. His flanks heaved and he was smeared from nose to tail with red. He wobbled like one stiff gust of wind could topple him.

  Guardians, Shilo gasped in his head.

  Fuck. Yeah.

  Before Langdon recovered, Waylon jumped him. He didn’t know the extent of Langdon’s ability but hoped to distract him from using it if nothing else.

  Langdon was quick and agile. As Waylon was about to land on him, the other shifter twisted and rolled. Claws ripped across Waylon’s side, but he ignored it and seized the only sliver of an opening he could find. When he struck, he aimed for Langdon’s bullet wound and clamped his mouth down on a limb.

  Langdon howled and squirmed harder, but Waylon didn’t release. Instead, he rolled. His own injuries protested, but Langdon’s were fresh, he was disoriented. He didn’t move with Waylon, but tried to resist and pull away.

  Bone snapped in Waylon’s jaws. He released and jumped back to attack again. Another shot rang out. A warning one.

  Langdon lifted himself off the ground, his upper body rising before his haunches. He was hurting. At least Waylon had done that much.

  Shilo and Paulie hadn’t quit growling at each other. Paulie must have realized he couldn’t defeat her as easily as he’d assumed, and now Shilo played the waiting game against him.

  Waylon inhaled, trying to move in any way possible. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils. The wound on his neck seeped freely, unencumbered by Langdon’s ability.

  I guess I overestimated you, Langdon taunted. Waylon couldn’t even use his rage to make himself move. You were never any match against me.

  A male’s shout filtered through the trees. Bennett? “To the two male shifters I’ve never met, you’d better not move a strand of fur.”

  Langdon pulled his lips back, a snarl ripping from his throat. He darted for Waylon’s neck.

  A third blast. Langdon hit the ground. Waylon was free.

  “I said don’t fucking move.” Bennett sounded closer than before.

  A cluster of snarls resonated behind him. Paulie had used the distraction to attack Shilo.

  Time to end this.

  Waylon heaved himself off the ground. Langdon hadn’t clipped a carotid, but Waylon hadn’t had a lot of blood to spare in the first place. He staggered to the backpack Shilo dropped when she went after Paulie. Shifting back to his human for, he collapsed on the ground.

  No. Nope. This wouldn’t do. He wasn’t going to pass out on his female.

  He riffled through the bag, closing his hand around the gun. Two silver bullets, that was all he needed.

  Shilo, I need an opening.

  If she heard him, she didn’t respond.

  A tall blond man emerged from the trees. Bennett’s hard gaze touched briefly on Waylon, then each downed shifter. Langdon panted, but he wasn’t moving. Brynley stayed down.

  A second Guardian with black hair overlaid with silver appeared like a ghost behind Bennett. Mercury had his rifle trained on Shilo and Paulie rolling around.

  Like she sensed Paulie’s distraction, Shilo freed herself and darted away. Waylon aimed and shot. Mercury fired at the same time.

  Paulie dropped. Waylon hoped the silver-laced bullet at least grazed him. He readjusted, putting Langdon in his sights.

  The male rolled up to his haunches and nearly collapsed back down.

  “Langdon Covet. You are under arrest by the Tri-Species Syn—” The last word came out a strangle. Bennett stood stiff as the tree next to him.

  Waylon’s entire body tingled. Mercury swiveled the barrel but froze halfway through.

  A dry chuckle snaked through Waylon’s mind. Weak fucking Guardians. Weak fucking government. I don’t answer to them. He swung his head toward Waylon.

  Muscles stiff and unresponsive, Waylon was frozen.

  He calmed his mind. All he had to do was move a half an inch. He concentrated.

  Shilo cleared Paulie’s prone wolf and bounded toward Langdon. The effort of trying to freeze her while keeping three others stiff proved just hard enough.

  Waylon would’ve grinned if he could’ve. I might not be a match for you, Langdon, but the thing that makes a leader strong is the others around him. Before he pulled the trigger, he added, Or her.

  He squeezed. Langdon hadn’t moved out of his sights. The shot hit him between the eyes. Langdon was the one frozen for a split second before he collapsed backward.

  Bennett jerked and stumbled back. Mercury shook his head and lowered his rifle.

  Shilo loped toward him, keeping her weight off her front right limb entirely. She shifted when she reached him. He folded her into his arms. Sticky with blood, smelling like pain and death, he clung to her.

  It was over. His future was more uncertain than ever, but this female in his arms was the center of it.

  Chapter 22

  With a sated sexual appetite, common sense returned. Shilo blinked around the room. She swatted the slumbering male next to her.

  He grunted and wrapped a corded arm around her. “Ten more minutes.”

  “You sai
d that an hour ago before I ended up naked. We should’ve left already.” She hopped off the floor. Stepping over the clothing they’d shredded off each other, she searched for decent clothing for the meeting.

  “What’s taking you so long?” Waylon shot her a wolfish grin and darted into the bathroom. She tossed a pair of dirty underwear at him. They bounced off the door as it swung shut, his laughter fading behind the panel.

  She smiled to herself. She’d never felt better, and their official mating this weekend would top off her mental state. Not that being with Waylon day in and day out, waking up to him and going to sleep wrapped in his arms, wasn’t completely blocking the madness already.

  But this weekend was also the powwow. She’d sent Olga’s dress with a courier to Ironhorse Falls. Whether she and Waylon would get to the powwow was not yet decided. They were waiting to see how the meeting today went.

  She was Waylon’s mate now, it would be irrevocably binding soon, and then her duty would be supporting him while he led Passage Lake into the future. It was like they’d flip-flopped destinies, and she was trying really hard to accept it.

  Waylon had sensed how hard it was for her and they’d talked, but there was nothing to do but keep moving forward. She’d love to repair her relationship with her parents, but her sudden position at the side of the Covet pack leader changed the dynamics between them.

  The tension and dismay that had radiated through her parents had cracked Shilo’s heart. The relief she’d hoped to see in their expressions had only been replaced by more stress. She and Waylon had packed the rest of her belongings that night and left.

  Without Langdon’s bribes, the human contractors had quit interfering with communications for Ironhorse Falls. Brynley, Oscar, and Jason were the Synod’s responsibility. They were transported north, just past the Canadian border, to Synod headquarters by the twin Guardians, Harrison and Malcolm. They’d do time, then be free to choose a pack less heinous than the one they were raised in. And Jason would be able to properly mate Oscar.

  She thought Waylon was more worried about the twins than the other three shifters. I have the mate I thought I lost, but I heard they’ve each lost their chance at a mate forever.

  She didn’t know them, but she woke up with Waylon this morning and not too long ago she would’ve sworn she’d lost him forever.

  Mother and Father had messaged to ensure she’d be at the meeting today. They’d even asked how she was doing, but they’d also said they needed time to figure out where their hearts were really at—without Brynley’s outside influence.

  The contact had been enough to bolster her hopes that they could rebuild their relationship.

  Shilo’s gaze landed on the shelf full of carvings. Waylon’s stunned and honored expression when she’d pulled out the containers of figurines had been worth the restraint it had taken for her not to destroy them five years ago in a fit of hurt and rage.

  The house they’d rented in Passage Lake was nice enough. Her crafting took over the living room, including Waylon’s carvings knives and early attempts to get back into the habit. They’d work together as they enjoyed cable, wifi, and constant cell service. Ironhorse Falls had the same amenities now, too.

  She brushed away her thoughts as she dressed. The meeting coming up was a big one. All the packs wanted to talk to Waylon, and Mother had sent a missive indicating she’d like to attend, with all of Ironhorse Falls’ pack leaders.

  Was there hope for repairing the tensions between the towns? Passage Lake had been horribly betrayed while under Langdon’s control, and Ironhorse Falls had spent generations loathing Passage Lake.

  Waylon exited the bathroom. His style of dress hadn’t changed. Hanes T-shirt and jeans with boots. She was in a charcoal pantsuit with a pink undershirt. Old habits and all that. Her status as negotiator hadn’t totally dissolved. Helping Waylon navigate pack politics and a couple decades of lies and secrets from his kin hadn’t been easy.

  But they’d made great progress. She and Waylon could walk around town and receive greetings the whole way. That was a first for Waylon. He’d almost retreated to the male who shunned all around him as a form of self-defense, but he’d persisted and she’d encouraged. He still went by Wolf, though, not Covet. She hadn’t suggested that. A pack leader had addressed him as Covet and Waylon had snapped, “I’m not a fucking Covet,” and that had been that.

  “You look so damn fine.” Waylon scanned their bedroom and the plastic bins they used for their clothing. “Think I should wear like a jacket or something?”

  “Do you own one?” She knew he didn’t.

  He grinned. “I was kidding anyway.” He held out his hand, ushering her out the bedroom and the house first.

  They arrived at the courthouse fashionably late—her idea. It was awkward as hell to chitchat while waiting for pack leaders to arrive.

  Waylon strode in. He’d ordered a bigger table than the round one they usually sat at. Four packs from Passage Lake and five from Ironhorse Falls, plus her parents. They’d needed room for thirteen to sit.

  Waylon pulled out the chair for her. She met Mother’s gaze and nearly fell into her seat. Pride shimmered in her eyes. Shilo looked at Father and her lips twitched. The wide-lapelled Western blazer in gray and black plaid was vintage—he’d had it since the seventies, and it matched his pants. Those she’d made for him. His smile was faint but no less proud.

  Had she completely misread them the day she’d left her life in Ironhorse Falls behind?

  “What’s going on?” Waylon asked when they were settled. He never lorded over his people. Their meetings were conversations. The years he’d been the easygoing bartender were obvious as he listened to pack leaders discuss their concerns.

  A Passage Falls pack leader spoke, an older female. Myrriah. “We’ve reached out to Ironhorse Falls like you suggested, and what we heard was…” Several emotions played across the shifter’s face, leaving creases at her eyes and her mouth trembling. Loss. “We’ve heard nothing but story after story of how humans and shifters alike keep their family traditions alive. We talked to one young male who said Shilo had made his mother a dress so beautiful she wanted to wear it on her last day on earth.”

  “Olga?” Shilo hadn’t meant to blurt out the name. Her projects weren’t confidential, but they were private.

  Mother dipped her head and nodded. “She paraded around town in that dress. She plans to wear it to the powwow and I imagine not long after that, she and her mate will disappear into the wood to go unto the Sweet Mother.”

  Olga and her mate were going to die together, but Olga had left everything behind and couldn’t bear to die without a piece of her history. Shilo blinked back tears. For once, the significance of her ability was clear. She preserved her people’s history, allowed them to keep the differences that set them apart from the Langdon Covets of the world.

  “We…uh”—Myrriah glanced at the other shifters—“we haven’t had the option to celebrate who we are. Several of our shifters fear for their mental stability since Langdon controlled who was allowed in and out of the colony. We need to roam like our people do. We need to find our mates. We need to preserve who we are as we grow as people.”

  Waylon spoke. “You know that I of all people, with Shilo of all shifters for a mate, agree. So what’s the issue?”

  Mother stood. She commanded the attention of the room and Waylon wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “Weatherly and I have planned on retiring for several years now.”

  What? Other pack leaders were nodding, but Waylon was just as stunned as her.

  Did you know this? he asked.

  Not at all.

  Mother reached down. Father clasped her hand. “It took centuries to meet my mate and I’d like to enjoy him. My daughter was supposed to take over for me”—she gave Shilo a sad smile—“but it never happened. And I think it’s because this was meant to be. Our colonies need to unite.”

  Waylon’s back hit his chair. He gazed around the room. S
hilo tried to see what he was seeing, but she had a hard time getting past her own stunned reaction. Retirement? Unite?

  “This is the perfect time,” Mother continued, her hand still in Father’s. “I pass the mantle on to Shilo. She and Waylon mate. Done.” Mother turned to address her and Waylon. “We all want this. We’re worn from conflict and we’re tired of isolation. We just want access to the same amenities as other shifters.”

  Weatherly nodded. “Shifters just want to have fun.”

  Shilo’s laughter spilled out of her, but she had a hard time believing Mother’s statement. “Truly? Everyone?”

  Myrriah’s solemn expression didn’t waver. “All who are smart feel this way. And I’m already getting requests to send you orders. Starting with whatever a flapper dress is.”

  An image of the fringed dress rose in Shilo’s mind. Her fingers twitched and her heart warmed to be able to contribute something with her ability. Waylon had admitted to her that now that he’d developed a gift, he felt complete. But with her, he was finally whole. She knew exactly what he meant.

  But she’d still showed him just how much she craved him—and how it had nothing to do with his newfound ability.

  Waylon spread his hands, accepting their proposal. “Why wait? We’re all here.”

  Shilo gasped, her fingers went to her lips. Reasons why they should wait bubbled up, but she’d waited years already. The important people were here.

  Father dug a long box out of his pocket. “I had a feeling you might suggest that.” Waylon raised a brow, but Father only pushed the box toward us. “I’ve known you a long time, Wolf, whether we liked each other or not. And without fucking Covet’s influence, it turns out, I think you’re an okay guy.”

  “But,” Shilo said, “when we came to you after he fought Langdon…”

  “The retirement,” Mother answered. “We’ve been waiting for so long, and with no successor because you’re dedicated to Passage Lake, well, the news took us off guard.”

  Waylon lifted the lid off the box. A mating dagger rested inside. Father had to have had it crafted recently. They’d been busy planning all this, that was why they hadn’t been in contact.