Blood Moon Harvest (Seasons of the Moon)

by Reine, SM

  “You’re sorry?” He gave a bitter laugh. “You’re sorry?” His arms were braced on the wall at either side of her shoulders, trapping her underneath him. “I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about his brother’s girlfriend.” He bent forward, like he might kiss her again, but he stopped an inch away. “Where were you last night?”

  She swallowed hard. “I stayed in the house.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” It was so hard to breathe when he was looking at her like that. He was close enough that if she licked her lips, she might just lick him, too. “Because I don’t know what we’ve been doing when we’re wolves. Kissing you feels… familiar.”

  “Familiar,” he echoed.

  She didn’t know how to elaborate beyond that, so she just nodded.

  Abel’s eyes raked over her face, like he could violate her with his gaze alone. “I want you so damn bad,” he said, biting out every word. “When I look at you—it’s like I’m an alcoholic, and you’re the last bottle of whiskey on Earth.” The heat in his voice weakened her knees.

  “But—”

  He cut her off. “Why did you come here?”

  “I don’t know,” Rylie said, her trembling fingers running over the broad planes of his chest. She couldn’t seem to stop touching him. “I guess… because I want you, too. And I don’t know why.”

  He seized her arms. “You don’t know why you want me? You don’t think it’s because of this?”

  Abel’s second kiss was shorter, but no gentler. He pulled her against him with an iron grip. He consumed her like a forest fire, savage and merciless. And when he dropped her, she desperately regretted it.

  It took all of her strength to push the wolf away, forcing it deep inside of her.

  She clenched her fists. “I don’t love you,” Rylie said. “I love Seth.”

  Abel grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “You can keep telling yourself that, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “I’m leaving with him.”

  “But you’ll be back for me,” he said.

  “No.” Her protest was weak.

  But wasn’t that true? How could she stay away from her pack?

  How could she stay away from her Alpha?

  The thought rose to the surface, totally unbidden, and she couldn’t shake it once it crossed her mind. Abel wasn’t Alpha. She was Alpha.

  “I’m sorry,” Rylie said one last time, stepping away from him. “I shouldn’t have come here. Take care of the pack.”

  And then she ran out of his room, away from Abel, away from the heat of his lips on hers.

  But she couldn’t escape the memory of his kiss.

  NINE

  Lost Chapters

  Rylie was already sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Chevelle when Seth joined her. She had her knees hugged to her chest as she stared out the window.

  Yasir met him at the car, carrying a binder under one arm. “You need to let us know if you find Cain before we do,” the commander said.

  Seth nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to call the Union in for anything he didn’t have to, but it was hard to deny their usefulness. “You’ll be the first to hear about it.”

  Yasir handed him an earpiece—the same one worn by every member of the Union. “The button on the side goes directly to me. Don’t lose it.” He hesitated, and then also handed the binder to Seth. “It took a while to requisition, but I finally got a complete copy of your father’s book from Union HQ. This is all we have. I hope it has the answers you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  They clasped each other’s forearms, and with a short nod, Yasir left to escort the rest of the pack to California.

  Seth climbed into the Chevelle, set the binder in the back seat, and started the engine.

  “Ready to go?” he asked Rylie.

  She nodded silently.

  Rylie was unusually quiet on the long drive out of town. Seth waited an hour before trying to strike up a conversation, but she only responded by shaking her head or nodding. And when he asked if she wanted to take a break, she just shrugged.

  Seth pulled into a gas station parking lot to buy a soda. He hesitated before getting out. “Is something wrong, Rylie?”

  She glanced at him. Ducked her head. “No.”

  Rylie was a horrible liar. The truth was written all over her face: she was freaking out about something, and it was killing her.

  Seth glanced down at her right hand. The moonstone glimmered on her finger.

  “Do you want anything to eat?” he asked.

  She shrugged again.

  Seth left her in the car while he bought a soda for himself and a green tea for Rylie.

  When he returned, she was still staring out the window without acknowledging him. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her cheeks were pink.

  Seth kept driving.

  Another two hours passed. Two long, boring hours with nothing to do but stare at the asphalt.

  The air was cool with autumn’s chill. Most of the trees were caught between summer and fall, with half of their leaves a dull shade of green, and the other half shimmering gold. The trees became more dense as they moved north, and then turned sparse again as they passed through a city. Nothing waited on the other side but plains.

  “Let’s trade,” Rylie said at the next rest stop. She hadn’t touched her tea.

  While she drove, Seth read the binder that Yasir had given him. He flipped through the pages one by one.

  He had been drilled on werewolf hunting procedure using that manual a thousand times, and Seth knew the rules by memory.

  Be careful when verifying a suspected werewolf. Double-check all of your sources.

  Look for a history of crime, mental illness, and especially domestic violence. Werewolves are unstable and struggle to integrate into society.

  Make sure that the werewolf is who you think they are before killing them.

  Don’t kill them when they don’t have four legs and fur.

  That was pretty much it. As far as hunting and killing tactics went, anything had been considered fair game by his parents.

  There was nothing new in that part of the book. He flipped through the familiar chapters—the section on skinning, the section on removing teeth to keep track of the kills, the part about different species—and found a chapter that he didn’t recognize.

  Pack behavior.

  He read a few lines into it, skimming for words like “Alpha” and “mating.”

  What he found made his blood run cold.

  “What are you reading?” Rylie asked, breaking the silence.

  He closed the cover. “Nothing interesting.” It was late afternoon; they must have traveled a pretty good distance while he was distracted, because he didn’t recognize any of the landmarks anymore. The long shadows of trees stretched across the road. “Where are we?”

  “Nowhere right now. We’ll get to Aguilar in about an hour,” she said. “I’m getting tired. Where do you want to stop for the night?”

  “Aguilar works.”

  Seth zipped the binder up in his bag, and they finished the drive in silence.

  The motel in Aguilar wasn’t much to look at. It definitely wasn’t up to Scott Whyte’s standards of cleanliness—just looking at the yellow curtains and tarnished brass numbers on the doors probably would have made him break out in hives.

  But they hadn’t made advance arrangements, and there were no five star hotels in the middle of nowhere. So Rylie waited in the car while Seth went in to book the room.

  They were in room number six, which was almost at the end. They parked in front of it and took their bags inside.

  All they had by way of furniture was a TV stand, a side table, and one big bed. The comforter was probably even older than the curtains. But the TV was new, and there were streaks on the mirror, which meant someone had tried to clean the room at some point. Maybe even that week.

  Rylie looked at Seth, and he lo
oked at her.

  I kissed your brother.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she said, grabbing a towel out of the closet and ducking into the bathroom.

  When Rylie had gone to school in the city, some of her guy friends liked to play the field. Nick had bragged constantly about making out with different girls.

  It was no big deal, he had said. As long as we didn’t have sex, it wasn’t even cheating.

  But that word stuck inside her brain like a thorn.

  Cheater.

  She washed using the tiny bottle of shampoo that smelled like jasmine. It made her hair feel weird and crunchy, but it was the first time she had showered in months without Bekah banging on the bathroom door, so she tried to enjoy it.

  That word hung over her like Pagan’s foul perfume.

  Cheater.

  She was going to have to tell Seth. She couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

  After a few minutes, she gave up trying to enjoy herself. She got dressed, combed out her hair, and rejoined Seth.

  He was sitting on the bed, still fully clothed except for his shoes, and watching the news while he oiled his gun. He smiled when she came out. It only made her feel guiltier.

  “Good shower?” he asked.

  She nodded mutely and sat beside him. The mattress springs creaked under her weight.

  There was nothing interesting on the news. They were going on about all the disasters that had been happening in the west, from Oregon down into Nevada and Arizona, and Rylie was so sick of hearing about earthquakes and fires that she tuned it out.

  But that left nothing for her to think about except Abel’s bruising kisses, and how much her body ached to do it again, and her resolution to tell Seth what had happened.

  Her boyfriend set down his gun.

  “Okay, Rylie. What’s eating at you?”

  She threw her legs over the side of the bed and turned her back so that she wouldn’t have to see his expression.

  Deep breaths.

  “I kissed Abel,” she said, twisting the moonstone ring on her hand.

  “You kissed…” He trailed off, like he couldn’t quite understand the words.

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

  He was quiet for so long that she had to look over her shoulder to see his reaction. But his face was blank as he stared at the wall. There was no way to tell what was going on in his head.

  The news program switched to commercials. A used car ad blasted through the room. Something about big deals and low interest rate and no payments for a few months.

  Seth didn’t move.

  She couldn’t stand his silence. “What are you thinking about?”

  “You kissed my brother,” he said. He sounded numb. “What do you think I’m thinking about?”

  Rylie smothered her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’d been trying to avoid him, but like I told you, I’ve been feeling so—so weird about him—and when I realized I was leaving, and he was—”

  He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back. “Stop.”

  Seth didn’t sound numb anymore. He sounded angry.

  She shut her mouth. Here it comes.

  He strode to the bed, and she tensed. But he only unzipped his suitcase.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He pulled out the binder he had been reading in the car while she drove. “That’s what this said would happen.”

  Seth tossed the binder on the bed. It slid across the old bedspread to her, so that she could read what was printed on the cover at an angle. Hunting the Once-Human Beast.

  She reached out to touch it, and then decided she didn’t want to. “Is that…?”

  “Yeah. It’s my dad’s book. He did more research into them than he originally published, including an entire chapter on Alphas. My mom had a copy of his rough draft on Gray Mountain. I’ve been reading it.”

  “What does it say?”

  Seth gave her a long look. His gaze was almost pitying. “In traditional pack structure, there are two Alphas—a male and a female. It’s a matriarchal structure. The female who runs the pack chooses her Alpha by mating with him.”

  Rylie’s stomach dropped out. She wavered.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s supposed to be for the good of the pack. She picks the strongest man and… well, you know.” He shrugged. “Alphas are a weird thing with werewolves anyway. They only start popping up when the pack is in duress. You were chosen because werewolves were about to go extinct anyway, so your job includes the… expectation… that you’ll help repopulate the species.”

  She clenched her fists so hard that her fingernails bit into her palms. “I won’t bite anyone. I’m not turning anyone else into a monster.”

  “That’s the thing.” He blew a breath out of his lips. Stared at his feet. “My dad’s research said that werewolves can be born, too.”

  “What?”

  He held up his hands and took a step back, like her shock was a physical force that had shoved him. “There were no references cited on his research. There’s no way to verify that it’s true.”

  Rylie let the words sink into her.

  Werewolves can be born.

  She crossed her arms over her stomach. “So… if I had a baby, it would be a werewolf?” Her cheeks heated, and her vision blurred. “So you and me… we can’t ever…?”

  He sank onto the bed at her side.

  “We don’t know that yet.” Seth pulled Rylie against his chest and buried his face in her hair. His breath was hot down the back of her neck.

  So her wolf’s attraction was worse than she expected. It wasn’t just something wildly out of her control—it was a drive to breed a species of monsters.

  Rylie thought she was going to throw up.

  “I’m not doing that,” she said. “I would never.”

  He rubbed small circles over her back. “I know.” His chest rose and fell under her cheek. “You don’t have any control over what’s happening between you and Abel. This is a werewolf thing. The wolf choosing Abel as her mate isn’t your fault any more than the wolf killing all those people years ago.”

  Tears burned paths down her cheeks.

  “But it is me,” Rylie said. “I kissed Abel.”

  “Because the wolf took control of you. Hey, look at me.” He took her by the arms and fixed a serious gaze on her. “You are not the wolf. The wolf is not you. I love you, Rylie Gresham. We’re stronger than this. And I’m not giving you up to some ridiculous werewolf mythology without a fight.”

  She hung her head, unable to meet his eyes. “I love you, Seth.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You know that. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you at camp. That won’t ever change.”

  “Then that’s all that matters,” he said. “We’ll get through this together. Okay?”

  She nodded and leaned against his shoulder. He held her tightly and didn’t let go all night.

  TEN

  An Answer

  The drive wasn’t as tense the next morning. They kept the windows rolled down, even though the air was cold. It felt good whipping around Rylie’s face.

  They arrived at Seth’s old house by late afternoon.

  It was at the end of a long, empty road that had no name, and it was so isolated that Rylie thought it might have once been a hunting cabin. Yellowing trees crowded around it on every side. Her feet crunched on leaves as she got out of the Chevelle.

  “Is it abandoned?” she asked.

  Seth took his rifle out of the car and slung the strap over his shoulder. “You tell me.”

  Rylie tilted her nose to the air and sniffed. All she smelled was rotting leaves, squirrels, and the droppings of deer that had passed by the previous week. “Humans haven’t been here in a while.”

  “Good.”

  The front door wasn’t locked. Seth pushed it open, and the hinges gave a protesting whine.

  The curtains were drawn, so the livi
ng room was dark. Half of the furniture was missing—there was still a coffee table and couch, but judging by the discoloration on the walls, shelves and paintings had been removed.

  Aside from the dust, it looked like a family easily could have lived there just the week before. There were even photos over the fireplace.

  Rylie stepped in behind Seth, taking another short sniff.

  Old smells lingered in the air—smells she couldn’t place. Animals, maybe.

  “So this is where you grew up,” she said, trailing her fingertips over the mantel. Her skin came up covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt.

  She brushed the glass over a photo clean. There were two smiling faces underneath—little boys with broad grins, big eyes, and coarse black curls that stuck out in every direction. They were hugged by a man with blue eyes and brown hair. He had the same lopsided smile that Seth did, and Abel’s lips. It had to be their dad.

  Her heart fell looking at the picture.

  “What was your father like?” she asked, picking up the frame to rub off more dust.

  Seth stuck his hands in his pockets and glared at the house. Even if he looked happy in the photo as a child, he didn’t seem happy to be there now.

  “I don’t remember him very well, but I know he was driven. He was pretty funny, I guess. He laughed a lot.” He scrubbed a hand over his stubble. “He yelled a lot, too. Mostly at my mom. But Eleanor gave as good as she got.”

  “I believe that.” Rylie showed Seth the photo.

  His eyes raked down the image. “That was a few weeks before Dad died.” Seth opened his mouth, like he was going to say something else about it, but then his jaw clapped shut.

  He took the picture from her and set it on the mantel again.

  Seth moved into the kitchen, leaving Rylie alone.

  A chill settled over her as she stood in the middle of the ghost of Seth’s childhood. The dusty furniture, the dirty photos, the dark room—it suddenly had the feeling of a mausoleum.

  She cracked a window to let in the breeze. Light splashed over the room. The sun warmed her face. “I don’t think Cain has been here,” she called into the kitchen.