Christmas Moon

by Sadie Hart

  Christmas Moon

  A Shifter Town Enforcement novella

  By Sadie Hart

  Breanne Torres has lost the meaning of Christmas. Haunted by the death of her daughter and the murders committed by her husband, she’s distanced herself from her past. Now, she spends her life in solitude, trying to disappear. But in the small town of White Pine, the presence of an ex-Hound with a past like Bree’s is impossible not to notice.

  Hunter Reed is the alpha of the White Pine werewolf pack and Bree’s next door neighbor. He’s done his best to give his new neighbor space, but when he finds out his pack has been harassing her, he wants to help her out. And when he discovers that Bree has lost the spirit of Christmas, he’s determined to show her the joys of the season again.

  But Hunter’s pack isn’t the only one harassing Bree. Someone from her past is determined that she pays for her ex-husband’s sins. With a rogue wolf hunting her, Bree’s only hope of finding the spirit of Christmas is to face her past and open her life to the potential of a future: Hunter.

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright Sadie Hart 2013

  Cover Art by Sadie Hart

  License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book with someone else, please purchase an additional copy. If you’re reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. The names, places, characters, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Breanne Torres let the cool winter wind wrap around her. Heavy snow weighed the thick pine branches down until the trees outside her new home seemed to sag, as if the weight of the world rested on their prickly branches. It was mild for Northern Oregon this time of year, the snowfall incredibly light as the temperatures hovered just barely above freezing.

  But the chill morning wind was almost a gentle respite from the nightmares that still haunted her dreams. A shudder rolled down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself, her gloved hands tucked under her elbows. Sometimes she wished she could just forget.

  Forgetting, however, just wasn’t in the cards. As if the dreams weren’t bad enough—the blood, the screams, the memories of people she’d loved and lost—the scents of still wet paint and wolf reached her nose and Bree grimaced. Damn kids. She knew even before she stepped down her shoveled walkway in front of the garage that one of the young wolf-shifters of White Pine had decided to leave her another message.

  It was probably the same kid that was calling her night after night, with nothing but static and rapid breathing when she answered. She should have contacted the local Shifter Town Enforcement. Should have reported the vandalism and harassment.

  Should have, but that would hardly grant her the peace she so desperately wanted.

  “Damn.” The words stung as her gaze landed on the red words scrawled across her garage. The spray paint hadn’t dried well in the cold, bubbling and smearing as it leaked down the metal siding.

  Get out Hound bitch.

  At least this time they’d spelled bitch right. She rubbed a gloved hand over the pounding spot between her eyes, the ache in her head suddenly back with a vengeance. The stench of wolf was stronger here, but the whole damn town smelled like wolves. Half of White Pine’s population was wolf-shifters. Calling in Shifter Town Enforcement wouldn’t help her any. As an ex-Hound for Enforcement, the locals here had already made it clear she wasn’t welcome. And while she might have complained to the wolf pack’s alpha, there was no saying Hunter Reed would be any friendlier than the rest of his pack.

  She’d thought the small town would let her hide, get some peace, grieve. In some ways it had, and in others—like this ‘prank’—it only made the past hurt worse. If she’d known the death of their daughter would push her husband past the edge of sanity, if she’d known he’d kill all those people—

  Bree squeezed her eyes shut against the stab of pain in her heart.

  Crying didn’t help a damn thing. It didn’t bring back the dead and didn’t change the past. And it sure as hell didn’t help her move on. Rubbing the top of her head through her hat, she gave the red message one last look. The paint still looked wet. Best chance to get it clean, or she’d be painting the door again on the next thaw.

  Bree turned and strode back inside, dusting the snow off her boots before heading into her kitchen to pull the familiar bucket and sponge out from under the sink. She filled it with steaming water and went back out into the cold.

  Once upon a time she’d have tried to figure out who was behind this, tracked them down, and made sure the naughty shifter understood that acting out had repercussions. Now, she simply cleaned up the messes and hoped the trouble just went away. She’d had enough playing heroine when she’d been a Hound. But when her skills should have really mattered she’d let Shifter Town Enforcement, her pack, and so many others down.

  She peeled off her gloves and stashed them in her pockets, only to grab the sponge and get to work. It wasn’t the hard, grueling scrubbing that it had been when she’d moved here over the summer. When the warm sun would bake the paint on and make it damn near impossible to get off without painting over the graffiti. This smeared under the wet water, but with enough work, the paint would come off easily enough.

  She didn’t look at the words, just concentrated on wiping off the red, wishing all the while that it was truly that easy to wash the blood off her own hands.

  ***

  Hunter Reed turned up the sloping winter road that led into town. O’Reilly’s would be open and he could get enough food to get through the next week—which was saying something considering how many dinners the pack was eating under his roof these days. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were all trying to get a look at the pretty new neighbor.

  If the red-haired beauty had been anyone but an ex-Hound.

  Though he had no doubt that they still wanted to get a look at her. Everyone in White Pine was curious about the quiet woman holed up in her little house, purposefully keeping her distance from the rest of the town. Hunter had to admit, his curiosity had been piqued the moment the moving trucks had pulled in that summer.

  She’d seemed lonely, broken, but he also recognized the longing in her eyes the first day he’d strode up her drive. The longing to be left alone. Something about her had craved space, so he’d given her that, but in a place as small as White Pine, true solitude was hard to come by. Everyone knew everyone else’s business.

  This place had no secrets.

  Which is why within the first week he’d known exactly who Breanne Torres was, why she was here, and what past she was trying to outrun. He shook his head. He’d have thought six months would have been enough time to sate the pack’s endless curiosity about the new Hound neighbor. But there were so many different rumors floating around, no one had lost interest.

  Breanne Torres was the most interesting thing th
at had happened in White Pine since Hunter had been eighteen and rammed his car into a tree and tumbled off the side of a cliff. They still talked about that. His lonely little neighbor was going to be making headlines for quite some time. A wry smile touched Hunter’s lips and automatically he glanced at the small house.

  Shit.

  Red smears trailed down the front of her garage, and she knelt in the snow scrubbing a way. But he could still read the sloppily written words. Get out Hound bitch. His jaw went tight. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her cleaning her garage door and now he had that sinking twist in his gut, telling him that she wasn’t just bored and looking to make the house prettier.

  No. She was covering up some jerk’s graffiti.

  He turned his truck into her drive and watched her stiffen. Her long red hair was stuffed under a purple knit hat, probably not the best color for her, but when she turned and looked his way it was like a sock to the gut. Damn, but she was pretty. Beautiful. A full, soft face—nothing like the gaunt, broken woman that had arrived here in early June.

  Oh, she’d been pretty then, but she’d had this wariness about her that had screamed fragile. As if one wrong move could send her shattering. He’d understood why after he’d read what had happened in Colorado. Her husband and pack mate in their local Shifter Town Enforcement had gone on a killing spree across several states as he tried to pin the deaths on a bunch of lion-shifters. It had failed and he’d ended up dead, with Breanne left to pick up the pieces of her rogue-Hound husband.

  After something like that, he could understand a person wanting to disappear.

  She stood, the red-tinted sponge in her hand, and looked him straight in the eye. There was no denying the strength in her gaze now. Time had no doubt let her begin to heal. The woman in front of him had the gaze of a warrior. He put the truck in park and swung out. His boots hit the fresh snow on the side of her drive way, sending up a cloud of white.

  She tensed, and there was the wary edge back in her eyes, but she no longer looked like she was about to break. “Can I help you?”

  Damn, but he’d forgotten what her voice sounded like. He’d only heard her speak once and it’d been soft, nothing but the barest whisper as she asked him to leave and shut her door in his face. Now it was stronger, vibrant. This was the voice of a woman who could strike out a command to a whole pack and simply expect them to listen. It was the same voice that could bring a man to his knees if she softened the words and let her voice drift lower, husky.

  Hunter ignored the question. There were a lot of things she could do for him, but that wasn’t why he was here. He tilted his head in the direction of her garage. “Looks like you could use some help.”

  He strode closer to her, ignoring the way she shook her head.

  “No I got—”

  He plucked the sponge from her hand. “You think kids would have better things to do than freeze their balls off writing nasty messages.”

  Her angelic face tilted to look at him, surprise flitting through her amber eyes, and Hunter found himself staring at the wry, half smile that touched her lips. Soft and full, he couldn’t help but want a kiss. Just one, just to taste her. See if her lips were as sweet as they looked. A strangled laugh caught in his throat and he turned toward the words smeared over her garage. Damn, but he was acting like some thirteen-year-old pup begging for his first piece of tail. He was better than that.

  “Thank you, but I can get this.” The command in her voice was far from soft, but he ignored it.

  This close he could smell the scent of the brat who’d done it. A member of his pack, too. Colin Harris. He’d have a talk with the pup when he saw him tonight at the pack dinner. A talk that would probably involve a nice cuff to the back of the runt’s head. This woman hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve this, and she sure as hell shouldn’t have to clean up the mess just because one of his wolves had a twist in his tail.

  “You shouldn’t have to,” he ground out.

  Her head tilted, a strand of red hair falling loose from her hat and tumbling across her face. He clenched the sponge hard enough water trickled through his fingers so he wouldn’t reach up and swipe it aside.

  “I’ll go get another sponge.”

  Hunter shook his head. “No. I got this.”

  Shock radiated off of her and Hunter had to turn his head to hide the hint of a smile on his lips. She didn’t seem like she was used to kindness anymore. A damn shame too.

  “Then I’ll at least make some hot chocolate.”

  She didn’t ask, she told, and damn but he liked that about her. This time when he looked up at her, he grinned. “Now that I can accept with a clear conscience.”

  Whether it was the cold touch of the wind or a blush, her cheeks were tinted red when she turned back toward her front door. He watched the sway of her rump as she walked away. She paused at the door, glancing back his way. “If you finish before I’m done, just let yourself in.”

  Hunter nodded. “Will do.”

  The moment she stepped inside he set to work, scrubbing hard and furious. He wanted to know what lay behind that door, what he could learn about that woman from simply being in her house, her space.

  More than anything, he wanted a chance to get to know her.

  Chapter Two

  Bree frowned as she stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind her to block out the cold wind. Hunter Reed wasn’t the kind of man she’d been expecting. After her meeting with quite a few of the White Pine wolf-shifters, she’d been sure their alpha wouldn’t be any different. He wouldn’t want her here anymore than they did. She scrunched her nose at the memory.

  She sure as heck hadn’t been expecting the Good Samaritan routine when he’d pulled up in her driveway. Nor had she expected that heart-melting smile. Damn. Her heart pounded at the image that flashed through her mind—all strong jaw, white teeth, and dazzling wolf-gold eyes. She shivered. Everything about Hunter had appeal. He looked every inch the alpha male she’d expected—tall, lean, muscled. Strong. No doubt he could hold his own.

  She could see the muscles moving under his jeans as he’d crouched in front of her garage. A flush heated her cheeks as she pushed the memory away. She’d been on her own for far too long if a simple smile had her this off-kilter. She set her coat on the hook beside the front door and bustled into her kitchen. She’d almost settled into this lifestyle—quiet, unassuming, solitary.

  No one else to turn her world upside down.

  Of course, even in the middle of nowhere her past followed. She stared down at her hands, still cold from the morning wind, and frowned. There were just some things a person couldn’t leave behind. And even if everyone else would just forget that she had been a part of that whole mess, Bree was never going to. She should have known her husband had been hit that hard by the death of their daughter, so hard that he’d want revenge. But she hadn’t seen the signs. And so many had died because she’d been blind.

  It was a fact she was never going to escape. So she’d decided to live with it.

  Heating the stove, she started the water, letting it simmer over the heat while she dug out a pair of mugs. Why Hunter was helping her, she didn’t know, but the kindness he’d shown was refreshing. She heard the door creak open and boots stomping in the foyer. “Over here,” she called out.

  She turned, just as Hunter appeared in the doorway his gaze open and curious as he looked around. Bree gripped the counter behind her, her heart pounding.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone in her house. Never in this particular house, that much she was sure of. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth just as Hunter turned to look at her.

  He tilted his head in the direction of her garage. “I know who’s been vandalizing your property. I’ll have a talk with him. He’s just a pup, he could use some manners.”

  Bree shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine.” He took another step into the kitchen, then paused to shed his coa
t. His lean shoulders bunched with strength as he slipped the winter jacket off and laid it over a wooden chair. “It’s vandalism for one. I’m shocked you haven’t reported it to Shifter Town Enforcement.”

  He looked at her as he spoke the last, his eyes hooded, assessing.

  Bree hated looks like that. The ones that said they wanted to understand. Like she was some piece of a puzzle that needed figuring out. She turned away, drawing her attention back to the stove.

  Silence stretched between them for another breath before he continued. “And secondly, you’ve done nothing to deserve the attack. I expect my pack to have better manners.”

  He took a step closer and Bree tilted her head toward him.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Hunter asked, his voice warm, friendly.

  “No. I got it.” She turned off the stove and poured the steaming water into mugs sitting on the counter. Digging out the hot cocoa mix, she put a few spoonfuls in each cup and passed one to Hunter. “I appreciate the help, though. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  And she had, she knew she had. But damn. She kept waiting for a remark to spill out of his mouth that he couldn’t take back. She found herself holding her breath, just waiting for him to tell her she wasn’t welcome in White Pine, that maybe she should have gotten the hint already.

  Instead, he eased down into one of the kitchen chairs, his mug on the table in front of him as he idly swirled the spoon.

  “You don’t sound ungrateful. You sound like someone who has a stranger in her house that she doesn’t quite know what to do with.” One corner of his mouth hitched up in a half-smile and Bree felt her stomach twist.

  It’d been so long since she’d let someone into her life. Not since her ex-husband... She turned away, focusing on swirling the clumps of cocoa into the hot water.