Moonfall (Moonkind Series Book 3)

by Ines Johnson

Rhetta rolled down the car window. She leaned her head out the window and lapped up the fresh air. Soon city turned to farmland and she could breathe deeper, her chest opened, and her nerves began to settle.

  Rory had said he loved her. But that was preposterous. He was mad or playing her. Probably both.

  Jordan would never profess love after only one night. He was too sensible. Jordan had seen their compatibility. Just like her husband had. Charles had been a dog breeder, just as Jordan was a vet, and Rhetta a dog trainer. Sensible people in the same line of work who appreciated order.

  Unlike the beast whom she’d fled this morning. Rory was a butcher who hacked things into pieces. There was bad blood between the brothers for a reason. That and bad luck were the bearings of poor decision-making.

  Rhetta pulled out her cell phone and tried Jordan. It went straight to voicemail. He was probably tending to his contriving mother.

  She tried to cut down on the bitterness in her mental tone. Instead, she focused on the fact that that was another reason she was marrying Jordan. He had his priorities and responsibilities in order. Family first.

  Rhetta pulled up to her home. She parked at the end of the driveway and made her way around to the back of the house. She was through the gate when a chorus of barks greeted her.

  Rhetta held up her hand and her pack of dogs all shut their muzzles and sat down obediently. Hopefully, they hadn’t been loud enough to alert anyone of her approach. She knew she was wrong when she was swept up into an embrace from behind.

  “Didn’t I just leave you in bed?”

  Rhetta yelped.

  Pierce put her down immediately. Her brother-in-law turned her around with a flush on his brown cheeks.

  “Rhetta?” His look was incredulous at the same time sheepish. “I’ve never confused you and your sister before. But you smell just like her now.”

  Rhetta took a calming breath and straightened her coat. Pierce laughed to himself and rubbed his nose. He cocked his head at her as his gaze ran over her state of dress. She’d been hoping to slip in and change before anyone would notice that she was wearing yesterday’s clothes, but it looked like she’d be found out.

  “Did you just come off a run?” Pierce asked.

  “No.”

  He tilted his head to the other side, his nose twitching as he regarded her with more scrutiny. “Did you fall down?”

  Rhetta had always thought her sister’s mate was a bit slow. He was hard to arouse to any passion without her sister in the room. He was very even toned. Unlike most men that Rhetta knew.

  Rhetta didn’t have a chance to answer his latest inaccurate guess about her state of dress. From behind Pierce, her mother came into view. Naked as the day she was born and not looking a day over twenty-five moons, Gloria Veracruz sauntered up to the gate.

  “What happened?” asked her mother, eyeing her daughter with a frown. “Did you get into a fight?”

  Now Rhetta huffed. Was it so inconceivable to think that maybe, just possibly, she’d spent a night of passion with a man? “No, I didn’t come off a run. No, I didn’t fall down. No, I didn’t get into a fight.”

  Two pairs of eyes stared back at her, waiting. Great, she’d closed off all other possibilities, but she had no plan to tell them the truth. What now?

  “What’s going on?” Viviane came out of the door belly first. She took one look at her twin sister and then grinned. “Looks like somebody got some last night.”

  “Really?” Their mother wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t think old Georgie boy had it in him.”

  Her mother leaned in and sniffed. She cocked her head to the side as though to let the scent roll around in her mind. Rhetta stepped away from her mother and her strong sense of smell. Her mother hadn’t spent much time around Jordan. She would be unlikely to tell that it wasn’t exactly his scent. Still, Rhetta didn’t care to give her any more ammunition.

  “Jordan,” she began with emphasis because her mother would need to get his name correct from this moment on, “is no longer my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, good,” said Viviane. “He was all wrong for you.”

  “He was such a wimp,” said their mother.

  Rhetta glared at the two women who she called family. “He’s not my boyfriend any longer because he’s now my fiancée.” Rhetta held up her hand to show the ring on her finger.

  Viviane had the good sense to look cowed. Gloria, on the other hand, pulled down the lapels of the coat Rhetta wore. Having found what she was looking for, she ran her hands over the bite marks on Rhetta’s neck.

  “Hmmm,” her mother said. “I didn’t think the boy had it in him.”

  Rhetta grabbed the lapels and pulled them up close again. This is one of the reasons she couldn’t wait to get married. Her mother didn’t have any boundaries. Rhetta would have her own home once she and Jordan got married, and she’d have some semblance of privacy and order.

  “Do you love him, Rhetta?” asked Viviane.

  Rhetta turned to her sister. Pierce had his arm tucked around her round belly and his nose in her hair. Rhetta scratched her chest at the display of affection.

  “Jordan and I have a relationship based on compatibility. That’s what I want.”

  Viviane nodded as Pierce nuzzled into her neck. Jordan would never do such a thing, not in public. She wasn’t sure if he’d do it in private either. They’d only kissed a couple of times and it had been directly on the lips. But they had been perfectly respectable kisses.

  With her announcement out of the way, Rhetta decided to get back to her priorities and responsibilities. “Thank you all for your well-wishes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower and get ready for the day.”

  Chapter Eight

  She was easy to trail. Rory was a seasoned hunter after all. Even if she’d been attempting to cover her tracks, he had her scent. She could run from him, and it turned him on that she was running, but she could never hide from him.

  He followed her tire tracks out of town. The cluster of businesses and domiciles gave way to rolling pastures and wide open spaces. The sky brightened from the fluorescent lights of civilization to the pure sunlight of the wild.

  It had been awhile since Rory had been this far out in nature. His wolf wanted to stop the truck, shift, and prowl around the underbrush. Rory hadn’t shifted in years. He couldn’t bear to see his wolf crippled. The beast inside him didn’t understand that it was wounded. It didn’t know there was a problem.

  Rory tamped down on his natural instincts and refocused on his new mission in life; Rhetta. Even though his leg ached from being cramped in the car, he tapped his toe restlessly. He was eager and alert. It had been so long since he’d felt so alive, and it was all because of her.

  When she’d slapped him, it was as though she’d shaken the will to live back into him. Hard or soft, cracking his lip open or nuzzling the corners of his mouth, Rory needed Rhetta’s hands on him. And so he stuck his nose out of the truck’s window and inhaled.

  Her scent was a tendril in the fresh air. It grew thicker and stronger the farther he ventured into the valley. Excitement kicked in his gut and made his pants uncomfortable. He’d have her in his grasp in mere moments.

  Wolves were naturally collaborative hunters, working together to corral and trap their prey. They would trail their game for hours, sometimes days, before making a move. The highly intelligent and calculating animals would seek out weaknesses in the herd. They’d take note of the weather and the terrain, looking for the best advantage to make their kill.

  Having the element of surprise on their side was always a welcome tactic. But wolves were also known for their endurance. They would chase prey over long distances.

  Rory’s wolf was a large beast, but he was also fast and light on his feet. While the rest of his old pack had run behind and alongside their large quarry of elk or caribou, Rory had excelled at darting out in front of fleeing prey, causing confusion, and forcing the wild beasts to make mistakes. Once the anima
l made a misstep, Rory was there to take it down quickly and aggressively.

  Rhetta would be the biggest prize he’d ever had to subdue.

  Her scent led him to a sheep farm. Rory parked his truck and got out of the cab. Again, his wolf tugged at his attention. His gaze fell upon the easy prey fenced into pens.

  Rory went up to the gate that held the sheep. He looked at the shearing job on the animals. It was impressive, clean, and precise. He’d like to meet the man who did such fine knife work.

  He sensed he wouldn’t have to wait long. Although he didn’t hear a sound, Rory knew that someone had come up behind him. It smelled like an alpha with the faint tint of Rhetta. A grin spread across Rory’s face. This must be Rhetta’s father.

  Excellent. Part of his plan was to win the male over. The leader of this pack would want to have his daughter with a real wolf instead of that pansy, half-blood excuse for a brother that dared to ask for her hand.

  Rory turned, keeping his chin up but his eyes on the ground. What he saw on the ground made both man and wolf cock his head to the side.

  Painted toenails?

  Rory’s gaze rose to find a nude woman standing before him with her arms crossed beneath full, perky breasts. It was clear she was older, not by any wrinkles in her face or gray in her hair. She had the countenance that the older generation exuded.

  She unfolded her arms and cocked a hand on her hip, daring him to lower his gaze.

  Rory felt no need to. His heart and his groin were owned by the woman he knew wasn’t too far away; a woman who closely resembled the one standing before him.

  Was this Rhetta’s mother?

  Was she the alpha of this pack?

  Rory had heard of such things. Female alphas were rare. But they existed.

  Rory lowered his gaze again in deference to the woman and grinned. “I knew Rhetta was from strong stock.”

  The alpha came close, sniffing audibly. Rory held still under her perusal.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her voice more primal than feminine.

  “My name is Rory.”

  “What are you doing on my land?”

  “I’ve come for Rhetta.”

  “Why?”

  Rory looked up so that she would see the seriousness in the next words he uttered. “Because she’s mine.”

  The alpha narrowed her eyes. A grin spread across her face. “Rhetta’s spoken for.”

  It was a challenge, not a fact. Rory didn’t believe for a second that this woman put any stock in those words.

  “If that half-bred brother of mine thinks he can handle a woman like Rhetta then he’s more delusional than I thought.”

  The alpha’s grin spread so wide that Rory felt a momentary twinge of danger like he was the prey and her teeth were the trap. “Why don’t you come in for first meal, Rory.”

  She held out her hand for him to precede her. Rory tried to minimize his limp, but he’d already overtaxed himself from his carnal activities last night, his chase this morning, and the cramped drive he’d just taken.

  He felt her eyes on him, but he beat her to the punch before she could ask.

  “It was a hunting accident,” he said. “Everything else works fine.”

  Chapter Nine

  Once in the shower, Rhetta’s skin was supersensitive as the beads of water rained down on her. She shivered at the thought of what made her so sensitized and sore. She even heard his growl in her head.

  Wait! She heard his growl? In her house?

  There it was again, that roaring, maniacal laughter that was barely human. She wasn’t dreaming it. Rory was downstairs in her house.

  Rhetta hopped out of the shower and dressed quickly. She bounded down the stairs and there he was. He’d infiltrated her home and thrown her life further out of order.

  Rory stood in her kitchen carving roast beef, which her father used to do. Jesus, the young alpha from the neighboring pack sat where her mother used to sit. Her mother sat in her father’s place. Pierce sat next to Viviane where Rhetta always sat. There was no place for Rhetta.

  Rory looked up at her. Their gazes locked and he grinned. His eyes roamed her body like he owned her.

  She pulled her shirt lapels together. He didn’t own her. He was completely out of order. This was why she wanted to marry Jordan. Everything was in order with Jordan.

  Rory set down the carving utensils and pulled up a seat for her. She looked at him; at his hands, his lush lips that curved into a grin. His lazy eyes that worked overtime ogling her body.

  All around, everyone was quiet. Their heads turned from one end of the room where Rhetta stood, stiff and stoic, to the other end of the room, where Rory casually leaned against the top of the chair, waiting patiently for her to come to him.

  Rhetta turned and dashed out of the house.

  Before her feet even hit the grass, she felt him behind her. He moved preternaturally fast for someone who was injured. He caught up with her in just a few strides. His body pressed into her backside as he picked her up and held her to him. His thick erection caused her to gasp.

  “Don’t run from me, Rhetta. Not unless you want to get caught.”

  “I don’t want you to catch me. I want you to leave me alone.”

  He laughed. “No, you don’t. You want my hands on you. You want my tongue on your body, in your mouth. You want my dick in—”

  Rhetta broke away from him and raised her hand to strike his foul mouth.

  Rory caught her hand easily. “I know you like it rough, ladybug.”

  “Do I look like a prissy, little bug to you?”

  “No, you look like an irate kitten. But you told me not to call you that.”

  “I also told you to leave me alone.”

  “I know.” He brought her hands to his mouth and licked her fingertips. “But you didn’t mean that.”

  Her family had come outside with plates in their hands and taken seats on the porch to watch the entertainment.

  “We need to clear this up,” Rhetta said. “But not out here where we have an audience.”

  She shouted the last bit while her family members chewed their thinly sliced roast beef. Rhetta turned on her heel, knowing that Rory would follow her. She led him into the barn and heard him shut the door behind him.

  That’s when she realized her mistake. One of the reasons wolves thrived was because they existed in packs. Now, she was alone with this lone wolf who was bent on culling her from the herd.

  The second she turned around, he was on her. His hands were everywhere at once. His tongue struck her lower lip, his teeth her top lip.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to shove him away. But he wouldn’t budge.

  “Clearing things up between us.”

  “I came to talk.”

  “Oh? Then we do need to clear things up. I came in here to lick you from your head to your toes.”

  “No.” Rhetta shoved his immovable chest once more. “That’s not what’s happening.”

  Rory frowned down at her. “Would you prefer I start at your toes?”

  “You’re not licking me anywhere. I’m marrying your brother.”

  He laughed loud, maniacal and slightly unhinged. The sound reverberated through Rhetta, making her press her thighs together.

  “You can’t marry my brother,” he said simply. “You’re mine.”

  “I am not a piece of property.” She stomped her foot. Unfortunately, it had no impact or resonance on the hay that covered the ground inside the barn.

  “I’m yours,” Rory said in that same simple tone. He’d let go of her, but he advanced on her, walking slowly with that limp that had somehow turned into a swagger. “You have me wrapped around your finger. I’ll do anything and everything to please you. We both know it won’t please you to be with my brother.”

  “You don’t even know me.” Rhetta’s back was against the wall. There was no way around him.

  “Not yet. That’s why I’m here. To court you.” He spread his arms in a
manner from the medieval storybooks.

  “Court me? You’re trying to fuck me.”

  Rory smiled. A mischievous glint lit his eyes. He gave no warning before he advanced.

  Rhetta put up her hands, but he passed between them. Somehow, her arms ended up around his thick neck. With her arms around his neck, all of the fight seeped out of her. She was suddenly exhausted. His thick paws and his big body were the only things holding her up.

  Two of his fingers reached under her chin and tilted her head up like her father used to do when something got her down.

  Rory’s eyes were soft when they looked at her. “What is it, little bird? Tell me what to do to make it better?”

  His gentleness threw her further off balance. She knew, in that moment, he wasn’t lying to her. He would do anything she asked him.

  But she also knew it would be just for a moment. Life with him would be unpredictable. Rhetta simply couldn’t have that.

  “I want you to let me marry your brother,” she said. Her fingers tangled in his hair. The locks were long and thick and in need of a trim. They were also silky to the touch and softened some of the sharp angles of his face.

  Rory planted a kiss at her temple. “Why would I do a silly thing like that?”

  “Life with you would be crazy, unpredictable. We’d fight and argue because we’re both stubborn. We’d wind up hurting each other, and I don’t want to be hurt ever again.”

  Rhetta closed her eyes and relaxed into him as he trailed kisses down the side of her face.

  “I’d never hurt you,” he said into the cone of her ear.

  “You wouldn’t mean to, but it would happen. I know how this works. I wasn’t your first choice. Your first choice rejected you.”

  “Rosalind? I haven’t seen her in years. I haven’t touched another woman until you. I hadn’t wanted to.”

  Somehow Rory had maneuvered her legs around his hips, and he was slowly rocking into her. In her haste to get down the stairs at his arrival, Rhetta had forgotten to put underwear on beneath her skirt. Rory’s eyes were trained on hers, clearly taking in her every word and worry. But he didn’t stop his hip motions as he unbuckled his pants.