Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  Ralph spat and set the shotgun down on the floor. “Bullshit. You might’ve caught me off guard back in the dungeon, but that won’t happen again.” He stalked forward, and the fight was on.

  Ralph led with a punch Nik saw coming from the next county. “Poor form,” Nik said, blocking him easily and giving him a love tap on the jaw. “You’ll never land a punch, not throwing those haymakers.”

  “Shut up!” Ralph swung again, too slow, and Nik deflected his punch and elbowed Ralph squarely between the ribs. The other wolf’s eyes watered, and he swore. “You opened yourself up to that one. Always block your insides,” Nik said, standing with his hands at his sides.

  “Ah!” Ralph’s face red with rage, he came swinging at Nik like a wild man. Nik snorted, slapping away the punches and kicking out toward Ralph’s gut.

  To his shock, Ralph just grunted and dove for him, taking them both to the floor. The man had about fifty pounds worth of gut protecting his belly, which Nik definitely felt now. The man outweighed him by at least that much, maybe more. Nik’s feet struggled to find purchase, to buck Ralph off or at least get a good punch to the face in so he could distract him enough to get away.

  Fuck. He shouldn’t have gotten cocky. Stupid arrogance, always getting him into trouble.

  The two men grappled for dominance, Nik squirming like a worm while Ralph chuckled. “Doesn’t feel so good not being the big dog on top, does it?” He pressed his elbow into Nik’s windpipe, and Nik choked.

  Shifting his nails into claws, he stabbed at Ralph’s meaty arm, shredding his flesh. Ralph didn’t seem to feel a thing.

  Son of a bitch.

  Nik started to see stars.

  Alara’s face burst through his mind, giving him renewed strength. He had a mate to save.

  Gathering his power, he head-butted Ralph. The wolf yowled, his hold loosening enough for Nik to buck him off and roll to the side. He bumped into the gun, and he grabbed it as he rose to his feet.

  He aimed the barrel of the gun at Ralph, who slowly rose.

  Blood ran down his lip from his nose, which was set at a crooked angle. He spat onto the floor near Nik’s feet. “Go ahead,” Ralph rasped. “Pull the trigger.”

  Nik kept his index finger pressed against the trigger, ready to fire should the need arise. “Revenge.”

  “What?”

  “That was the reason you killed Malachite’s family. He killed your pup, so you killed his.” He needed to know the truth, needed to hear it from the mouth of the accused party.

  Ralph’s eyes flashed with pain. He still mourned the passing of his daughter after all these years. Nik couldn’t blame him. He’d be eaten up with grief inside if his only pup were brutally murdered like an animal.

  “You may think I’m a monster, but he deserved it,” Ralph said, bitterness making his words brittle.

  “He was a farmer. And a hunter. He had to have been provoked,” Nik said, playing off of what Gage had given him earlier.

  “We didn’t provoke him.”

  “You trespassed on his land. Killed his livestock. Made him think he had a wolf problem, which he set out to resolve.”

  “We were starving! We didn’t have a choice! That fool Alpha Byron pissed off a Green Warlock, who bewitched the game on our land. Drove them off. Damaged all our crops too, and the edible shit in the forest.”

  So it really was just one big tragic misunderstanding. Nik’s shoulders slumped. What a waste. Another senseless, bloody battle that could’ve been prevented.

  He started to lower the gun. “I’m sorry. For your pup.” He damn well meant it too.

  Gold mixed with the silver in Ralph’s eyes. “Not nearly as sorry as you’re gonna be. You really should’ve shot me.” With a growl, he Changed into a large wolf the color of smoke.

  Nik barely had time to toss the gun and Shift before the other wolf was upon him. In a tangle of fur and claws, they rolled, knocking holes into the walls and sending picture frames crashing to the floor. The two tore at each other, biting and ripping flesh until blood soaked their paws.

  Ralph was tough, but he was no Alpha.

  And Nik had both seen and been in plenty of dogfights.

  Ralph was slow, just as his punches had been. What he had in brute force, Nik had in speed. As Ralph growled and reared back to slam his weight on top of Nik, with the intention of crushing his throat, Nik rushed forward. One rip was all it took.

  Ralph’s throat now gone, the other wolf sputtered and rolled on the floor until at last he lay still. As he lay dying, Ralph Shifted back into a human, no longer able to hold onto his wolf form. A smile crossed his lips. “Release,” he sputtered before his chest went still.

  Nik swiftly Shifted once he felt Ralph’s presence leave his mind. Attacking your Alpha was an offense worthy of death.

  And as Nik mulled over Ralph’s last word, he suspected the other wolf had baited him so he would give him that death.

  So he wouldn’t have to live with the agony of knowing he’d caused the death of his only child.

  Nik’s fists shook on his lap.

  Preventable. That was what he thought as he stared at this dead wolf, whose loss felt like a blade to his gut. Preventable and sad.

  With a cry of rage, he punched a hole through the wall, not feeling the sting of splintering wood against his knuckles.

  His whole body shook.

  “Dammit!” he roared.

  Footsteps approached, and red dots lined up on his chest.

  He looked up to see Penelope and about ten armed guards from both the pack and the DPI standing nearby.

  Penelope silently regarded him with those spooky silver eyes. She nodded, and the guards stepped forward.

  When Nik growled, snarling and snapping at them, they paused.

  “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Nikolas,” Penelope said.

  “Depends on your definition of hard. And you should know better than to corner a savage beast. A wolf in bloodlust is one of the most dangerous creatures in the Underworld.”

  “No matter.” Penelope snapped her fingers.

  It felt as though someone had hit Nik upside the head with a baseball bat. Stunned as he was sent flying into the wall, he tried regaining his senses and found he couldn’t move. Something burned at his wrists and ankles—silver cuffs.

  They’d bound him in fucking silver.

  Hissing as they hauled him to his feet, he glared at Penelope as they walked him past. “I know this isn’t you, Pen, but you’re a real bitch sometimes.”

  She smiled. “Only when I have to be. And don’t worry, love.” She tapped a nail under his chin. “This will all be over soon.”

  Then she vanished in a puff of smoke.

  “Time to wake up,” a voice whispered softly.

  Alara’s eyes opened. She had slept perfectly, not stirring once and rousing in the same position she’d fallen asleep in. On her back, hands clasped over her stomach, legs out straight.

  The grogginess of sleep wore off quickly, giving way to sharp thinking. The room was dark; night had fallen. She must have slept for a few hours.

  Her head pounded suddenly, and Alara squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth.

  Get. Up, Secret insisted with a growl. Time is wasting. The ceremony has a short window of time to be performed.

  Alara tried resisting, but her soul was still too weak from the surge of magic she’d exuded earlier. Why dusk?

  Certain times of day enhance certain types of spells. Dusk is an intersection, a crossroads from day to night. The end of one thing and the beginning of another. Perfect for a severing spell. Now move.

  Getting up, Alara began getting dressed in a simple black dress and black boots. Where are we going? she asked as Secret directed her body to the bathroom. Her eyes were flecked with silver, and she felt like punching the mirror. How had she gotten this weak? The doppelgänger had warned her about her willpower draining away. She hadn’t believed it, had thought she was strong enough.


  What if she wasn’t?

  Secret pulled her hair up into a ponytail and attached the dagger at her hip. She didn’t brush on any makeup before she turned the light off and left the suite. The guards fell in step behind her as she made her way down the stairs toward the ballroom.

  Secret was silent the entire time. It made Alara antsy. I asked you a question earlier. Where are we going?

  The ballroom.

  Obviously. What for?

  I told you. A spell—a sacrifice—that will save us all.

  Two more guards were posted outside the doors to the rarely used ballroom. Alara had meant to reopen it, to use it for throwing grand galas as a means of reconnecting with their neighboring packs and hopefully forging stronger alliances. Only once things settled down, of course, but she had a feeling that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

  The guards opened the doors for her, bowing as she floated past.

  The room was lit with hundreds of candles. Everyone was there—the wolves in her pack, the DPI, even Penelope. All staring blankly at her with silver eyes, their faces void of any expression.

  Like living statues.

  Alara shivered, creeped out.

  A circle of white and red candles had been arranged in a star in the middle of the room. And at the center of the star stood an altar, its glossy golden surface reflecting the twinkling flames.

  Secret stopped behind the altar, facing the door. “Bring the sacrifice.”

  Alara’s eyes lifted as the door opened.

  And then her heart stopped.

  Nik had raised hell the entire time they’d dragged his ass to the dungeon. Only they weren’t going to the dungeon, he realized as a hundred glittering candles hit his line of vision and an altar came into view.

  Son of a bitch. He was going to be sacrificed. Which meant the doppelgänger intended to use Blood Magic, one of the most dangerous houses of the Craft.

  His eyes froze on the altar before rising to meet his mate’s unwavering gaze.

  “Alara,” he breathed.

  She clutched a dagger in her hands, her face as smooth as glass.

  Struggling against his bonds, the silver burning his skin as it chafed, he growled and snapped as he was prodded forward like cattle. Penelope raised a hand, and he was lifted into the air and deposited onto the altar. Ropes appeared from nowhere, strapping him down tight. The cool metal pressed against his bare backside as he struggled but found he couldn’t move. The bitch of a witch hadn’t been messing around.

  He glared at the doppelgänger. “What is this, some Blood Magic shit?”

  It nodded, holding up the dagger. “Every sacrifice this blade has made has been out of hatred. That’s how the spell cast upon it works. The hatred allows the dagger to carry the souls of whomever it’s killed to Mistress Black, restoring her power. A sacrifice made out of love, however, along with a counterspell, should be enough to break Mistress Black’s spell.”

  “How do you know that will work? Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me.”

  “I’ve done it once before, in another witch’s body. That’s how I learned the spell. People have been using it to undo spells from afar for centuries, in some incarnation of magic or another.”

  Alara jerked her head from side to side. “No,” came her quavering voice. “No, I can’t do this.”

  Gritting its teeth, the doppelgänger seized control. “It’s the only way, you fool. Don’t you want to stop Mistress Black?” Closing its eyes, the doppelgänger raised its voice and spoke a few words in what sounded like Latin. The rest of the room repeated the words, bouncing back and forth from the doppelgänger to the crowd. The doppelgänger raised the dagger high, aiming the point at Nik’s heart. It started to bring the dagger down, but its arm stopped.

  “No!” Alara cried. “I won’t let you!”

  Her arm shook—she was fighting the doppelgänger.

  “How… are… you still so… strong?” the doppelgänger asked. “Your will should be… weakened… by now!”

  “I love him,” Alara growled, her eyes briefly flashing gold through the silver. “And I won’t let you take him away from me, you bitch!”

  “This will stop Mistress Black! She won’t be able to hurt the people you care about ever again.” Its eyes found Nik’s. “Don’t you want to save Alara? Your pack? Your brothers?”

  “No, Nik!” Alara gritted out. “Don’t…listen… to it!”

  The dagger inched down toward his chest, the fist gripping it turning white at the knuckles and shaking.

  Nik turned the doppelgänger’s words over in his head. Wasn’t this what he’d been trying to accomplish all along? Save everyone he loved?

  “You’re bullshitting me,” he said.

  “I am Fey. I cannot lie.”

  His chest rose and fell with quicker speed as he searched his mate’s beautiful face, trying to memorize it. “If I sacrifice myself, will you let Alara go?”

  “Yes,” it said instantly. “You have my word.”

  “And my pack? These people, every person under your hold?”

  “They will all be released and free to live in a world safe from Mistress Black’s evil whims.”

  He turned his head, glancing at the people surrounding him—his friends, his family, his pack.

  All his life he’d worried about not being “good enough”—a good-enough leader, mate, brother, son.

  Wasn’t that what being a good leader was? Being willing to sacrifice yourself to save your loved ones? He couldn’t save Ralph; the wolf had chosen his fate. Probably because he knew in killing him, it would hurt Nik the most, being the Alpha.

  If he felt Ralph’s loss so deeply, then losing Alara would destroy him.

  Never again. Never again will I lose another pack member.

  And he had a promise to keep, the sacred oath he’d silently taken the moment he’d Marked Alara.

  To protect her at any cost.

  He looked into her eyes one last time.

  “I love you, Alara.”

  Shock flitted through her face. The doppelgänger, sensing her distraction, pounced on the opportunity.

  Closing his eyes, he let the dagger plunge straight into his heart.

  It felt like a bomb had gone off. A blast of power swept through the air, shattering the windows, mirrors, anything else made of glass, and leveling everyone in the room.

  Alara’s ears rang. It was hard to focus, as though the blast of magic had scrambled her thoughts. As she sat up and waited for the room to stop spinning, she gritted her teeth against the throbbing headache pounding at her temples.

  Something stirred inside of her, the doppelgänger wrought with confusion. I don’t understand, Secret said. It was supposed to work.

  Work. The sacrifice.

  Nik.

  “Oh God,” Alara breathed, climbing to her feet. She nearly went down again as she stumbled her way to the lifeless body lying atop the altar. “Nik!” she screamed, cradling his head. Staring at the dagger, she almost reached for it to pull it out, but she stopped herself. There was already so much blood pouring out of the entry wound. Pulling the blade out would only make it bleed more. Trembling, she uttered her mate’s name again, searching for any signs of life.

  His chest barely moved, the pulse in his neck throbbing erratically.

  “Nik?” she whispered.

  His eyes slowly opened. Pain. There was so much pain there.

  Alara felt as if she were going to break. The gravity of what she’d done threatened to crush her.

  Nik started to reach for her face, his hand shaking. “I… love…” He coughed, blood spurting onto his lip as he gurgled the last word.

  “I love you too.” She took his hand, squeezed and kissed it. Tears poured down her face. “God, Nik, I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  He made a swatting motion at her cheek, wiping away her tears.

  A broken smile turned the corners of his mouth up, and then he stilled. />
  Alara felt it, the moment his heart stopped beating.

  Secret kept despairing in the back of her mind. I don’t understand. Why didn’t this work? It was supposed to work! The spell… I should have felt the spell break… which means it didn’t… what did I do wrong?

  Alara shook her head, staring at her mate. His skin was chilled. He was never cold, not once. Not a king of wolves.

  “No,” she muttered. “No, no, no, no.” Her voice broke as sobs took over. “Nik!” she screamed, so loudly she felt her vocal cords might shatter. “Nik! Come back! Come back!”

  The mate-bond went taut and snapped. Alara gasped at the sharp pain. It was as if her soul was being torn to pieces. The loss cut her to her core, and she wailed in agony.

  It hurt. It hurt so much.

  “Nik,” she uttered on a broken whisper, sinking against the altar. The air was unbreathable. It stank too much of Nik’s blood.

  Footsteps rushed toward the room. Alara glanced backward, barely able to see through her tears. A tall man she didn’t recognize but who looked oddly familiar stood in the doorway in nothing but jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. A woman with long red hair stood beside him, both of them taking in the scene in horror. When her bright-green eyes found the altar, her face went pale. “Nik,” she said.

  Alara blinked. Did she know him?

  The man’s eyes followed the woman’s, and sorrow flickered over his handsome features.

  The people around Alara groaned as they got up, their eyes glazed over with silver.

  Secret hissed. Black Witch! Mistress Black must have caught wind of where I was and sent two of her cronies to dispose of me!

  “What?” Alara said, standing. Her eyes snapped to the redhead, and her blood froze over. Her signature… it was similar to Secret’s.

  “Kill them!” Secret screeched, seizing control of Alara’s vocal cords while she was distracted.

  Alara fought for control over her body as the DPI and werewolves ran toward the newcomers.

  The man in the doorway snarled, eyes turning gold as he lunged forward.