Forever Werewolf: Forever WerewolfMoon Kissed (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Michele Hauf

  “Joining a pack is something I’ve dreamed of,” he said, taking off the towel he’d had over his chin to reveal the deep purple bruise there.

  “Oh, Tryst, does that hurt?”

  “Course it does. But it’ll be gone by morning. Shifting to werewolf takes away all wounds.”

  “Really? I guess I didn’t realize that.”

  “I suppose not. What’s it like, not having ever shifted, and yet watching your family and others all around you do so?”

  “Makes me feel not right. Like I’m the girl standing on the sidelines, unpicked, after everyone else has been chosen.”

  “I wish I could make it better for you.”

  “You do make it better without knowing it. Just accepting me means a lot. Do you…accept me?”

  “Hell yes. To be totally honest, your eyes still kind of freak me. They’re just so gold.”

  “I know. It freaks me still when I look in the mirror. I try not to look at them too often.”

  “On the other hand, they’re pretty cool. I’ve never seen my own eyes when shifted. Must be what they look like, eh?”

  She nodded. His honesty was refreshing. And much needed. She also felt he wasn’t trying to make her feel better by embroidering the truth with false kindness.

  “Come over here.” He extended a hand dripping with water. “I think a kiss might help bring the feeling back to my lips.”

  “They have no feeling? The bottom one does look swollen. Oh, Trystan.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly, and he winced. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You never could. I’m tough. But apparently Sven is just as tough, though we called the match a draw. He didn’t like that very much.” He stroked a wet fingertip across her lip. “God, I want you, Lexi. I want you nestled beside me so I can feel your skin on mine. Your lips on mine.”

  She kissed him again and this time didn’t pull away when he groaned painfully.

  “That hurts so good,” he moaned, and slid a hand along her back. “You had me brought here to your room?”

  “Of course. It was either that or the keep, lying on a cot for everyone to look upon the poor, outsider wolf.”

  “Who never backs down from a fight.”

  “Yes, even when it involves my sister.”

  “She touched me. I rounded the corner and walked right into her. Wasn’t even thinking because I’d just come from your dad’s and he’d told me never to go near you again. So my mind wasn’t on what had happened.”

  “I know. Lana is fickle like that. She likes to do things that’ll result in having Sven prove his love to her. But I don’t think that’s real love. Feels so manipulative. You went to talk to Father again?”

  “Yes, I told him I have an interest in you. I can’t lie to him.”

  “And he told you to keep your hands off me.”

  “Exactly.”

  He stroked her hair and tapped her lips. She dashed out her tongue to lick his finger and tasted the cinnamon oil mixed into the bath salts.

  “You’re doing things to me, Lexi. I don’t think the water is deep enough to hide it, either.”

  She laughed and then really wanted a look at what he was trying to hide under his hand. An erection? Mmm, it had been a while since she’d had a lover. A few mortals in the nearest town served her needs on occasion, but she’d never called any of them boyfriend. And to have a werewolf lover? It had never happened.

  “Tonight you have to leave Wulfsiege to stay off Sven’s radar.”

  “And your father’s radar.”

  “Right. But come back in the morning to help Liam. And then, tomorrow night,” she said, getting an idea and running with it, “don’t run with the pack. Go to the village three leagues east of here. There’s a little inn called the Green Fox set at the edge.”

  He tilted his head at her. “What are you suggesting, Princess?”

  She ran her tongue along his finger and to his palm, where she made it pointed and traced down his wrist.

  “You need sex on the night following the full moon to keep your werewolf satisfied.”

  “That I do. Especially since I didn’t have sex last night.”

  “Exactly. And I need you. I mean, seriously, I really need you, Tryst.”

  “But I promised your father.”

  “And I’d never ask you to go against your word. But…who means more to you? My father, or me?”

  “You, without question.”

  “So lay low tomorrow with Liam, then meet me. But only if you’re serious about us.”

  “Us.” A smile curved his swollen lip. “Hell, it’ll be worth getting tossed out of Wulfsiege on my ass just to have one night with you. Can we make love?”

  “That’s what I had in mind.”

  “And I do love your mind. I’ll see you then.”

  “It’s a date. Now I’m going to leave you to get dressed, because if I see you naked, I might not let you leave, and that won’t be good for your werewolf.”

  “Lexi?”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise me whatever happens tomorrow night, you’ll keep your eyes wide open about us. I want you to give me a chance.”

  “I could say the same thing. No matter what happens, we’ll not judge or make expectations.”

  “Deal.”

  She winked and left him alone before her desires forced her to jump into the tub and give him the skin-on-skin contact he’d asked for.

  Chapter 11

  “You going to be all right tonight, Father?”

  Lexi removed the food tray from her father’s bed. The curtains were pulled to hide the full moon, which usually glowed through the window. Didn’t matter, the werewolf’s urge to shift would come at midnight no matter if the moon was high and bright or hidden behind clouds.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I worry....” She stopped herself from saying her father’s shift tonight might further weaken him. A werewolf only gained strength during the shift, and any wounds should heal.

  She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe the shift would actually do him good? The doctor still hadn’t reported on the blood test.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Edmonton Connor sat on the edge of his bed, legs over the side. A maid had helped him dress today, and the sweater hung loose on his shoulders. He’d become even frailer, and it tore out Lexi’s heart. “I look forward to the shift. If it happens. It might do me some good. I’m not feeling the usual pull tonight, though. You know what it’s like—sorry.”

  No, she didn’t know what that pull felt like, but she could guess it was instinctual and innate.

  His eyes glittered with tears as they connected in the dim darkness. For the first time, she couldn’t read her father’s heart. Did he fear? Did he suspect death was near? Or was his courage merely shadowed by his illness?

  “Would you like me to stay close tonight?” she asked.

  He bowed his head and nodded. “Yes.”

  Lexi’s heart fell. He was worried. As much as she was.

  “Stop in later, will you? Maybe bring a deck of cards to keep your old man occupied.”

  “I can do that. I’ll see you in a bit, Father.”

  She carried the tray out into the hallway but left the door open an inch. She’d take the uneaten meal to the cafeteria and then return to her father’s room, where she’d sit in the conference room, giving him the privacy he required should he shift, and if not, she’d resurrect her rummy skills.

  Passing her sister’s room, she heard a groan, and was about to pass it off as the shift, when she realized it was yet early in the evening. Tray propped on an arm, she knocked on her sister’s door. “Lana?”

  “Lexi? Oh, come in. Please, hurry.”

  She entered to find her sister balled on the floor at the end of the pink ruffled bed. Blond hair was tangled about her head. She looked pale, and perspiration sheened her forehead.

  Setting the tray aside, Lexi rushed to her sister. “Did he hurt you?”


  Lana shook her head vehemently. “Stomach hurts. So bad. And I’m dizzy.”

  “Let me help you into bed. You’re cool and shivering.”

  The symptoms seemed flulike. Lexi had read enough fitness and lifestyle magazines to recognize them. But those were mortal symptoms. Werewolves never fell to a mortal illness. Her breed was rarely sick, due to their excellent immune systems.

  Lana slipped between the sheets, and Lexi scrambled into the bathroom to soak a towel in cool water and wring it out. If Sven had hurt her, she couldn’t imagine it would manifest in such a manner. Unless she had internal injuries? Laying the cloth over her sister’s forehead, she smoothed the long hair from her face and lingered on her cheek, which felt clammy.

  “I think it was something I ate,” Lana whispered. “Could have been some bad garlic in the potatoes.”

  That was a possibility. Though, Lexi had eaten the roasted pheasant served tonight, seasoned with a creamy garlic sauce, and it had tasted fine to her. She hadn’t noticed feeling bad after, either.

  “Did you eat only potatoes?”

  Lana closed her eyes and shivered. “Brought Daddy his meal, and he didn’t eat it. You know I love mashed potatoes, much as I’m sure they go straight to my hips.”

  Lexi glanced to the tray of unfinished food. The potatoes were gone. Compelled, she sniffed at the food. Beyond the copious garlic, it had an off smell, but that could be because it had been sitting for a few hours. Lana always expected the maid to clean up after her.

  “Oh, I’m going to be sick!”

  Lexi helped her sister into the bathroom, and while tending her, couldn’t stop wondering if something had been in the mashed potatoes to cause such a violent reaction in her sister.

  Poison? Struck by that horrible thought, she clutched her throat. Had someone been poisoning her father?

  * * *

  Tryst had left his clothing in the outbuilding and shifted to four-legged wolf shape an hour ago. He wanted time to run and put distance between himself and castle Wulfsiege. He’d been told there was a valley to the east where the pack went during the full moon, leagues away from people.

  It wasn’t so much people he worried about. His werewolf would not harm a human being, only freak them out and forever haunt their nightmares. It was his unfamiliarity with the area that troubled him. He didn’t trust he wouldn’t stalk right onto a highway, in full werewolf glory, and cause a crash. He had no desire to star in an impromptu horror movie.

  His paws tracked the snow in an exhilarating race east, toward the moon. An instinctual part of him liked to chase that big glowing ball of light, knowing it was a part of him, and tried desperately to touch it, to hold it, maybe take a big meaty bite out of it.

  When the inexplicable call to the ultimate shift tingled in his bones, he dodged toward the edge of the forest and as he did so, his back legs stretched and lengthened, bringing him tall and vertical onto two legs. Arms lengthened and bones liquefied and reshaped. His head grew larger and his maw stretched, taking in the night scents as a form of radar. The werewolf climbed up from the wolf and howled to the moon, grasping the cold air with deadly talons. This night belonged to him.

  Sniffing, he scented a wild thing, not far away, its heartbeats thundering. Food. Deftly tracking the snowpack, the werewolf sighted its prey and lunged.

  * * *

  Lexi snuck into the cafeteria, filing down the aisle behind the stainless steel serving counter and the wall that featured the hot-plate units where the food was kept warm during meals. All was clean and shiny in the dim moonlight that shone through the windows. She hadn’t wanted to turn on a light and alert someone. The cooks would be out, preparing for the shift, as would the rest of the castle inhabitants, save Natalie and a few maids who were also witches.

  She trailed a finger along the clean steel counter and eyed the refrigerator. Inspection found the inside stocked with plucked chickens and half a side of pork. Another fridge next to it contained fruits and vegetables that were shipped in weekly, along with sauces and condiments.

  Not really sure what she was looking for but sensing she’d know it if she stumbled upon it, she eyed the spice carousel and turned the steel fixture slowly, touching the brushed steel container of each one, capped with a clear glass cover so the contents were revealed. None of the spices were labeled, but she assumed the cook knew them well.

  Could any be used to poison a werewolf? Unlikely, if they were all innocuous cooking spices. But who could know?

  Natalie would. The witch used herbs for all sorts of potions, concoctions and spells. Lexi had no idea how she got the healing results she did from her spells; nor was she aware of Natalie’s full capabilities of the craft. She was a witch of the Light and had taken a vow to harm none. Yet could she be behind her father’s illness?

  Lexi shook her head. It was unthinkable. Natalie may not be wolf, but she was a trusted family friend. Her affair with Father had been decades ago, when Lexi had been a toddler. The witch did not harbor bad feelings about it, and had once told Lexi she knew she and Edmonton would not make a good match exactly because of his mistrust for her craft.

  She set aside that suspicion. Daring to tug open the drawer next to the knife butler, she eyed the collection of recipes and notes. Nothing there that read: Use this to poison the principal.

  What was poison to a werewolf?

  “Wolfsbane,” she whispered, which is why she was surprised it had been utilized—successfully—as an antidote. But what was it counteracting? She hadn’t the knowledge to make a guess.

  A shadow traced across the window beside the drawer, causing Lexi to startle. The shape of a werewolf passed before the windows at the opposite side of the cafeteria. Out and about? Or keeping an eye on her?

  She watched for a long time, and listened. An exterior door was just outside the cafeteria. No one entered, and a werewolf could not be so stealthy and quiet that she wouldn’t hear something.

  And then the door slammed inside the cafeteria, and in stalked a pale-furred werewolf.

  “Sven.” Lexi dropped the notes she’d been holding and backed toward the wall. Heartbeat galloping in her throat, she put up a defensive hand.

  The werewolf leaped over the counter and landed on all fours in front of her. He smelled feral and growled deep from his chest. Coming upright to his full, imposing height, his steps slapped the tiles. His fur glinted with melting snow.

  “You don’t want to do this, Sven,” she said lowly and with as much firmness as she could muster. “You want to be principal of pack Alpine? Don’t fuck with the current principal’s daughter. Got that? Do you understand me?”

  The wolf snarled, showing her his teeth. He rushed her, slamming her body against the brick wall. The knives on the counter clattered and one of them slid off to the floor, barely missing the werewolf’s foot.

  Gauging how quickly she could grab a knife in defense, Lexi’s arm flinched. Sven slapped a paw on the counter near the knife display.

  Lifting her chin, she tried to look the werewolf in the eye, to not show him her fear, even as her heart pounded for freedom. He would hurt her. She had no doubt about that.

  “Just leave me alone,” she said. “You have Lana.”

  The werewolf dragged a talon across her collarbone. An icy burn sliced her skin. Where was Tryst?

  You sent him away.

  She was on her own. And she’d never felt more alone in her life.

  Sven’s furred maw brushed the side of her cheek. Could he hear her frantic heartbeats? Smell her fear? Of course he could.

  He stepped back, lifting his chest, and let out a howl that she recognized as warning. Instinctively, Lexi cowered, sinking against the wall and bowing her head. If she could show him her compliance, he might leave her alone.

  It worked. The werewolf turned and raced from the cafeteria.

  And Lexi gripped her stomach to keep from getting sick.

  * * *

  Morning pried open his eyelids, and Tryst wo
ke in the shed outside Wulfsiege. The doors were open and, shivering, he cursed his were body for having less resistance to the cold than when in wolf form.

  He glanced about the hazy shed. Liam was inside bent over the snowplow, the socket wrench clicking studiously.

  Tryst noted the clothing tossed over his bare legs. He dressed, thinking he’d love a shower but not sure he wanted to risk going inside the castle today. Lexi had been adamant he lie low.

  “You have a good night?” a voice called from somewhere beneath the snowplow.

  “Amazing. I love this country. It’s the perfect place to let the werewolf roam.”

  “How’s Paris looking to you about now?”

  Tryst smirked and wandered, barefoot, around behind the plow. “We live outside the city on one hundred acres of land, but I’ve never experienced such gorgeous countryside on a run before. Really makes a man want to stay. What do you need, Liam?”

  “Hand me the socket tray. I need a bigger size.”

  Tryst found the tray of sockets and handed it under the plow to Liam. “I’m going to hang in here all day, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably best. I hear there’s rumblings about the principal’s sickness this morning.”

  “Such as? How is he?”

  “Not sure how he’s faring. But the word is that he might have been poisoned. Supposedly Lana ate some of his food and she was sick all night. Couldn’t shift.”

  “Wow. Who’da thought ol’ Sven could be so vindictive.”

  Liam rolled out on the crawler and looked up at Tryst, the socket wrench clutched over his stomach. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

  “What is that wolf’s story, anyway?”

  Liam shrugged. “He came to Wulfsiege a year ago. Charmed the principal with his tales of derring-do and successful escape from a vampire attack on his pack.”

  “Vampires attacking a pack? They don’t do stuff like that anymore.”