Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  Even if that meant invading someone else’s body.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Penelope blinked, startled out of her thoughts. “Excuse me?”

  “You look pale,” the girl said in that eerie monotone voice of hers. “Do I unsettle you?”

  That’s an understatement. More like scare the shit out of me. The urge to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible took over. Swallowing hard, she said, “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  Penelope pursed her lips. “I need to scan you.”

  “You can try.” Another cunning smile.

  Oh, so you want to play games, huh?

  Penelope looked at the two guards standing watch just inside the room, by the door. “You may wish to step out. I can handle this.”

  They looked at each other, not moving.

  Penelope growled a sigh. “The extraction spell I’m about to perform may have… unpleasant side effects on anyone else in the room.” When they still didn’t move, she elaborated. “Vomiting, diarrhea, reliving every painful, horrible memory you’ve ever had, for starters. Oh, and let’s not forget there is the slight chance you could get stuck in one of your memories, good or bad. The spell makes no distinction.”

  That got their attention. One guard started out the door, but the other paused. “Wait. Our liege said—”

  “Nik entrusted me with getting the information he needed. And as I don’t see him or Alara, or the High King or Queen, around, that means I’m in charge. Now, get out. Last warning.” The sooner she could be done with this, the better. The creature made her skin crawl.

  With a “hmph,” she turned and raised her arms, palms facing outward toward the bound doppelgänger. She heard a door close and felt the wolves’ presence leave the room as her fingertips began to shine with sparkling white light.

  A low, melodic hum filled the room, as if hundreds of sets of fingers were sliding along the rims of half-filled wineglasses. Strings of light slowly glided from her fingers as she chanted in an old language long forgotten. As the threads grew longer, they branched out, their shimmering fingers reaching for the doppelgänger.

  The girl stared at the strands, not flinching as they seeped inside her head and into the darkest recesses of her memory.

  Now, let’s find out your secrets.

  The spell always took a few minutes to settle, for the prongs to find their places. The spell had to move slowly so as not to damage the brain. One wrong move, and someone could be brain dead.

  It felt as if an eternity passed. All the while, the doppelgänger remained still, staring back at Penelope with dull eyes. Her whole expression was completely lifeless. Penelope resisted the urge to work faster.

  When she came into her powers, she took an oath to never harm anyone without just cause. So far, the girl hadn’t done anything more than freak her out. She couldn’t help what she was, just as Penelope couldn’t help being a witch.

  At long last, she felt the magic find its bearings and settle. With all the care of a surgeon, Penelope began to pull back on the strings, to extract whatever information the doppelgänger guarded. But it wouldn’t come. It was as if the memories were snagged on something.

  What?

  She tugged again, applying a little more pressure. No, she was sure of it. The memories really were stuck.

  “What the hell?” she breathed. In all her life, she’d never encountered anything like this. Sure, some people were excellent at guarding their thoughts, making the memories feel as if they were being pulled from mud, but Penelope was always able to wrench them free. She had never failed, and for the first time in her life, she was afraid she might not succeed.

  Warning bells went off in her head. Honestly, she was probably freaking out over nothing. Doppelgängers inhabited other people’s bodies—thusly, there shouldn’t be anything odd about their brains. At least, that’s what her spellbooks said.

  Knowing she just needed to tug a little harder, Penelope braced herself and gave a stronger pull.

  This time, something tugged back.

  She gasped, stumbling forward slightly. Her brain reeled as her heart hammered inside her chest. Had she imagined that? She had to have. No one, not even the most iron-willed witch or warlock, was capable of controlling the extraction threads embedded in their brains. Not only would it be incredibly painful, but it could also cause irreparable harm to the patient. Convinced she was only paranoid and had imagined things, Penelope took a deep breath to steady her nerves and tried pulling again.

  This time, something yanked her forward so violently that her face nearly slammed into the dungeon’s bars. Spooked, she jerked the threads back, but her magic wouldn’t come. Penelope’s heartbeat kicked up several notches as she bordered on hysteria. “What the…?” she gasped. Her magic thrashed against whatever it was caught on, but that only caused whatever had hold of her to pull harder. She winced, struggling to break free as the magic was leeched from her. All witches’ magic was rooted deep within their souls, the source of their power. It felt as if her veins were lighting on fire. A cry of pain slipped out, and she promptly bit her tongue. Her feet slid along the ground. She dug in her heels, the soles of her shoes squeaking along the floor as she was dragged forward, toward the girl.

  A sharp pain started in her chest, and she exhaled violently. It felt as though someone had driven a needle straight into her heart, and it had splintered inside of her. With every pulse, the pinpricks of pain intensified, spreading along her arms and legs. Her veins glowed bright white in her arms. The light gushed from her fingertips in a torrent of magic. Oh God, she could actually see the magic drain from her body.

  No, not her magic—her soul.

  Futilely, she tried calling it back, but she was so sleepy and weak now. Her eyelids drooped, causing the hot tears gathered in the rims of her eyes to spill onto her cheeks.

  A quiet, dark laugh chilled the air.

  Penelope’s watery eyes widened.

  The doppelgänger’s eyes were black. She smiled. “Finally,” spoke a different voice, this one much older sounding. “Someone useful.”

  Penelope’s face paled as she shrank away in fear, at least as far as the threads that bound her to that nightmare would let her. “Who are you?” she rasped.

  The doppelgänger’s eyes glowed purple. “I am death.”

  The strings of light attached to the doppelgänger’s head slowly began to turn black, as if dipped in ink. Penelope nearly gagged on the stench and raw power of—

  She gasped. Black Magic.

  She was suffocating. Oh, help! She couldn’t breathe! “What… are… you… doing?” she choked out, but the last of her breath was sucked from her as the ink found the other end of the lines and poured itself into her veins.

  It burned. Oh merciful God, it stung. The Black Magic seared her blood, spreading quicker and quicker until it felt as if her whole body was aflame.

  Through the blinding pain, she thought she screamed, but she couldn’t be sure. Everything was so, so quiet.

  And then, blissfully, mercifully, everything was black.

  Alara never got tired of gazing at the moon. As a child, she’d sit in her mother’s garden, curled up comfortably on a plush blanket in the grass, while she watched the night age.

  Like most werewolves, her senses came alive at night. Though heightened at all times, the dark of the night had a way of pulling forward her inner wolf, calling upon its strengths while subduing the physical weaknesses of her human side. For as proper as she’d been brought up, she never felt restricted or guarded at night. No, at night, she could be herself.

  She could be free.

  Nik didn’t let go of her hand as they slipped into the woods ringing the manor’s vast, immaculately mowed lawn. His pulse thrummed through her; she could feel his heartbeat pumping in rhythm with her own. The mate-bond was funny like that. It was eerie at first, maybe even a little invasive, having someone else’s presence constantly in her head.
But the more she grew accustomed to him, the more she knew she could never go back to being totally by herself. The thought sent a lonely chill through her.

  A myriad of smells assaulted her senses as their footsteps stirred up dirt and leaves: the damp, musty smell of the earth, the sweet scent of moss, and the more subdued smell of bark. Animal smells—deer, raccoons, birds—swirled in and out of the other scents. Sometimes it was a chore to untangle everything.

  The DPI will be here soon, Nik said through their mate-bond, the sound of his deep, slightly raspy voice reverberating inside her head. I want another look around the area before they show up and block it off and their scents start muddying things up.

  Makes sense. And you brought me because…?

  The serious expression he’d worn since they left the house turned into a grin. Your nose is keener than mine, love. Not to mention I wanted to spend time alone with my mate.

  So you wanted to get me alone. In the woods. Not creepy at all.

  You know you’re excited.

  The hunger inside her stirred as heat tickled her tummy. “Excited” didn’t begin to cover it.

  It didn’t take long to get to the spot where they’d found the doppelgänger. Or rather, where the doppelgänger had found them.

  The scent of their lovemaking still hung in the air, though it wasn’t nearly as pronounced as it had been earlier.

  Should we shift? Alara asked, eyeing her mate with a raised brow. Moonlight and shadows dappled his face while lighting up their surroundings with varying shades of gray. A few fireflies clung to the tree canopy above, their dainty yellow lights twinkling. Crickets chirped in a soft hum, and in the distance, she heard a brook laughing. It was peaceful, soothing. She could easily stay out here all night, using nothing but the grass and soil for a bed.

  Nik nodded. Ladies first.

  A thrill of anticipation ratcheted through her. Hardly able to wait, she closed her eyes and released the wolf within. With a snarl, it barreled to the surface. Her bones morphed, her skin stretching to accommodate the Change. While uncomfortable—because let’s be honest, who can say they enjoy having all their bones basically broken and rebuilt?—it was nothing compared to the pain she’d endured with gritted teeth and steel-willed determination during her first Change. That had been downright brutal.

  The transformation was over in less than a few seconds, and two majestic, large brown wolves stood there.

  The scent of the doppelgänger immediately slammed into her nose. God, it was sour, like rotting flesh and rotten eggs and roadkill in July.

  Alara whined, and Nik barked his agreement. She immediately shifted all of her focus to the task at hand and began sniffing around the ground. The sooner they could get this investigation rolling, the sooner she could try to forget this ungodly stench.

  It wasn’t hard to pick out the doppelgänger’s odor from the myriad of other smells. Even though Nick had said her nose was keener, she doubted he’d have needed her help tracking this scent. It was like that person who wore a summer color, like neon pink, to a funeral; they stood out no matter what.

  With a bark to follow her, Alara tore off through the woods.

  She never tired of running in her wolf’s body, of the power of her muscles, the clarity of her senses, and the surety in her step. In this form, she never had to worry about being too fat, too curvy, too pale, too quiet, or any other bullshit insecurities. When she Changed, the instinct of a predator took over, and all her worries and fears melted away.

  If only she could stay a wolf.

  Nik was close behind, his powerful strides sending reverberations through the ground and up into her own legs. The cool night air kissed her face, whipping her fur back as the world raced by.

  So free, so fast.

  Elation filled her, and she barked out the wolf equivalent of a laugh. For the first time in weeks, she meant it and could feel the joy. Anytime she laughed or smiled, it felt forced. Fake, somehow.

  But with the night all around, and no human worries pressing on her shoulders, she finally felt the pressure, agony, and suffering lift. It was the lightest she’d felt in weeks.

  Nik barked right back, weaving in and out of her path in a silly zigzag pattern.

  You’re going to get hurt, she chided gently.

  Nah. I’m an Alpha.

  What does that have to do with mashing your maw in on a tree?

  Everything. It automatically means I’m a badass, equipped with grace, agility—holy shit!

  Alara nearly died laughing as he came within an inch of slamming mouth first into a low-hanging branch. He’d leapt over a log, not seeing the branch until it was nearly too late, thanks to the shadows and him not paying attention.

  You think that’s funny, huh? he said wryly. He nipped her on the rear, and she rushed to tag him back, turning it into a game as they tracked. After about a mile of running, another smell hit Alara’s nose, just as acrid as the doppelgänger’s and yet bitterer, like charred flesh. Alara barely registered that it was strange, she was so taken with the chase. The drug of freedom, laughter, and play was intoxicating, and she started to lose focus.

  Screw duty and honor. She was having fun, dammit.

  The tree line broke, and they spilled out into an open meadow surrounding a small lake. Nik had taken her here a few times, bringing along picnic baskets and food he’d grilled himself in one of his surprisingly sweet moments. Since coming back to Crescent Manor, Alara had discovered Nik was obsessed with his crappy little thirty-dollar grill from Wal-Mart. She’d offered to get him a more sophisticated one, but he’d said he liked that one. “It’s unassuming, doesn’t put on any airs, and gets the job done right,” he’d said, grinning. “Just like me.”

  Alara never understood the bond between men and inanimate objects. Cars, grills, video game consoles… Her father hadn’t been immune, either. It was a well-known fact that the High King enjoyed playing Xbox late at night to take his mind off things.

  A rush of longing to see him again, along with a jolt of bitterness for his betrayal, wracked her core. No matter how hot her hatred burned, she couldn’t seem to erase the small part of her that still loved and missed her father. Which only pissed her off more. It would be so much easier to just hate him.

  With a growl and renewed energy fueled by anger, she started toward the woods on the opposite side of the meadow, but Nik called out Hey, hold up for a second.

  Alara obeyed, though nervous energy made her paw at the earth. Is something wrong? she said after a moment of silence, unable to hide her impatience. Her unresolved feelings for her father were once again on her mind, making her feel confused, hurt, and angry. The sooner she could distract herself, with, let’s say, tracking, the sooner she could dismiss those troublesome feelings she had no desire to figure out.

  In a blink and a flash of light, Nik Shifted back to his human form. Moonlight painted the contours of his hard muscles in silver, the shadows accentuating every curve and valley. The intricate, swirling filigree of their mating tattoos ran over his shoulders and chest down to his pectorals. The ink glittered with deep-blue crystals. It was mesmerizing.

  Change, he said through their mate-bond. No, not said—commanded.

  The heat of lust filtered through their bond, making Alara ache deep within. Her eyes fluttered down her mate’s gorgeous body to his proud erection, crowned in moonlight.

  Oh.

  Well, she’d wanted a distraction. And if she had a choice, hot werewolf sex under the open sky by a beautiful lake would be at the top of her list.

  In no time at all, Alara Shifted back to herself, her human skin snapping into place like a spandex glove. Her skin felt feverish, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath.

  Her mate held her gaze, his eyes still taking on the wolfish glow. Without a word, he stalked toward her, all raw muscle and power. As he buried one hand in her hair and pressed the other against the small of her back, his mouth claimed hers, snatching away the b
reath she’d sought.

  She groaned as he deepened the kiss, drawing her more tightly to him. His hot tongue slid along hers, filling her mouth with his taste.

  It was a wolf thing, she knew. The desire to claim, to mark one’s territory. The leash around her more carnal nature always loosened whenever she switched forms. And usually the best way to cage the beast, so to speak, was with hot and furious sex. Or a cold shower. But which one was more appealing?

  Nik’s hands roved her body, feeling her curves, the calluses along his palms sending shivers cascading across her body and leaving trails of fire in their wake. The crown of his sex rubbed hers, seeking entrance to the hot dampness between her legs. Her own sex began to throb with need. She reached down and grabbed his hardened cock, positioning it so it might more easily slide in.

  Nik growled with approval and then chuckled. “Impatient, are we?”

  “Have you met me?” she said with a breathless smile.

  Nik answered with another hungry kiss. Picking her up, he gently laid her on the grass, nudging her legs open with his knees. His cock brushed her sex, and she raised her hips to meet his as he thrust into her, fully cloaking himself in her.

  She moaned as liquid pleasure coursed through her veins as he began to pump furiously, bucking her hips against his as he had her.

  He lowered his torso over her, one hand gripping her head and the other behind her back, pressing upward so her hips would remain raised. She scored his back with her nails as he thrust harder, faster. The first quake of coming undone blossomed deep within her belly. In an explosion of color and light, she came as a moan tore from her throat and she arched her back.

  A moment later, he groaned hard in his throat, his hot liquid pouring into her and warming her from the inside out.

  As she came down off the high of her climax, she inhaled deeply, staring into the night sky over his heaving shoulders. She could feel the tension drain from her body, her muscles becoming languid.

  God, she’d needed this. They both had, a release from the mounting pressures of ruling a pack of wolves and trying to keep the rest of the paranormal world from falling apart.