Her Wild Wolf (Marked by the Moon Book 3) - Paranormal Wolf Shifter Romance

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Her Wild Wolf (Marked by the Moon Book 3) - Paranormal Wolf Shifter Romance Page 4

by Kamryn Hart


  Max glanced at the front of the truck to see Willow and Derek both looking back at him. Even Derek was concerned. Maybe that showed how much Willow had changed him during the time she first met him, got him back from that crazy shifter collector, and he decided to stay in Moonwatch with her—or maybe it meant they could sense Max’s hesitation, his doubt. They probably could.

  “Does one of us need to hold your hand?” Derek mocked. There it was, the teasing. That helped Max relax a bit.

  Max humphed and didn’t dignify Derek’s comment with a response. Derek laughed, but that was fine. It wasn’t like Max was pissed off or anything.

  “Be nice!” Willow exclaimed as she grabbed her mate’s face and gave him a big kiss to silence him. It worked. Derek wasn’t ready to let her go when she drew back and whispered, “Max hasn’t seen Lizbeth in a long time. He’s nervous.”

  “I can sense that.” There was a playful growl in Derek’s throat.

  “Gross,” Max teased. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “Good luck!” Derek said, never taking his eyes off his mate. “Just take control of the situation, and you’ll be fine.”

  “No, Max.” Willow giggled. “Be apologetic and romantic.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Derek growled again and pounced on his mate.

  Max was out of the truck before he had to witness another intimate kiss—or more. As the cold air hit him and a little flurry of snowflakes spiraled around him, he took his first step back into the world he came from. No more wolves. No more Berserker crap.

  “God, please let me pick up where we left off,” he muttered under his breath.

  The soft crunch of snow under his boots was something he didn’t hear. He only felt it. The world was silent. A soft yellow light glowed from inside Lizbeth’s apartment. She was home. This was it. His heart fluttered with the thought of seeing her again, the inevitability of it.

  He pressed his hand to the ring box in his pocket to reassure himself it was still there as he walked up the stairs to her door. The curtains were drawn, but he could see the shadows playing across them thanks to the light. Shadows? Max’s hearing came back in a rush as he stood near the window. He heard a soft moan that he knew well. Lizbeth.

  He gritted his teeth. Was someone hurting his girlfriend? He expected his hackles to rise, to feel a growl in his throat, but his wolf wasn’t having any part of this. Like he really was gone. He had to take care of this as a human. He was getting his second chance.

  Readying himself to knock down the door if he had to, Max was about to charge when he heard Lizbeth speak. He heard her words as clearly as if she was standing next to him. “Keep going.” She moaned again.

  She wasn’t being hurt. She was moaning in pleasure. He shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. Lizbeth barely broke up with him, already moved on, and found a new guy to replace him? And she wasn’t even getting to know him first? She went immediately to sex? That wasn’t the woman he knew. Unless…

  “What about your boyfriend?” a male’s voice asked. “Do I need to make this quick?”

  It took everything Max had to slowly place his fist on the sienna wall in front of him instead of slamming it down. He trembled there as he leaned against the wall for support. This couldn’t be happening.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Lizbeth replied. “It’s over with him. He was always so fucking uptight and the ‘perfect Christian gentleman.’ I like a little excitement in my love life. Plus, he was always working. We hardly ever had sex, and so I had to get it somewhere else. God, I miss his hot body and money, though.”

  “That makes me feel great about myself.”

  “Shut up and fuck me.”

  Max shuddered when he heard another whimper and the couch legs grinding against the wood floor inside. He could see the scene play out through the shadows on the curtains. Lizbeth wasn’t the person he thought she was. Or maybe he had been projecting what he wanted her to be. He wasn’t the kind of guy to jump around from girlfriend to girlfriend. If he met someone who wanted to talk, who was nice and interested in him, he was willing to give them a chance. His priority was to make a relationship stick. Yeah, he and Lizbeth had sex eventually, and he enjoyed it, but it wasn’t about that to him. He wanted a companion to stay by his side always. Lizbeth was the only serious girlfriend he had ever had, the only one he ever had sex with, the only one patient enough that she stuck around long enough to get that close to him. He thought she could be that companion. He thought they got along. He thought they cared about each other. Turned out, she just liked to play games.

  Well, as she told him on the phone earlier, he was done playing too.

  Max’s fingers melded to the ring box as he pulled it out of his pocket. He tightened his fist around it, crushing the box and molding it into a hard piece of garbage. He sealed it shut. Maybe someone would somehow recognize the disfigured box, but it was more likely the extravagant ring would get tossed without a second thought. Its beauty and worth weren’t shining on the outside for all to see, and that’s all it was about. Wasn’t it? People were superficial beings. Lizbeth had liked what she’d seen. His body. His money. That was all he meant to her.

  Dropping the unrecognizable ring box on Lizbeth’s porch, Max turned and walked away. Yeah, he just threw away a lot of money, but he didn’t care. That was the punishment he got. If he had truly been living the way he wanted to, he would have gotten to know Lizbeth instead of convincing himself she was perfect, the one for him.

  He was as blind as the rest of the world.

  Willow was in Derek’s lap as they stared out the window together, watching him as he made his way back to the Wrangler. Max wasn’t ready to go back to his old life after all. With that acceptance, he heard a growl in his chest. His wolf never left. He was waiting for Max to come to that conclusion. Life would never be the same. That was all there was to it. He wanted to go back to Moonwatch. He wanted to go back to the wolves.

  As soon as he opened the door and got into the backseat of the truck, Willow asked, “You okay, Max?”

  “Chicken shit,” Derek said.

  Max leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. He heard movement, probably Willow getting back in her seat.

  “It’s over,” Max whispered.

  “You can change her mind,” Willow encouraged. “I know you can. Just tell her the truth. If she really loves you—”

  “She doesn’t. She’s been cheating on me this whole time.”

  Max opened his eyes again to see Willow in the driver’s seat looking back at him with her mouth hanging wide open. A split second later and he could feel the crackling fire of her fury grow into an explosion. “That bitch!” she shouted. “I’m going in there to give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Please, don’t,” Max said, too exhausted to keep up with her energy. “I just want to go back to Moonwatch.”

  Derek grabbed his mate before she could kick open the door and make good on her word. His eyes were on Max though. “You want to go back to Moonwatch?” he asked incredulously.

  Max shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking anymore, and he didn’t feel like going home. He didn’t want to talk to his family, not right now. He didn’t want to go back to his apartment because it’d make him miss everything. Yeah, he wanted to go back to Moonwatch. Maybe he’d shrivel up there and blow away as a pile of dust. He still didn’t trust his wolf and wasn’t going to let him out again.

  His chest burned as the monster inside of him fought against his thoughts, but he didn’t care. He had been trying to get the wolf thing to work. It wasn’t. He was a danger to society, himself, and his family. He’d lock himself away like a good monster. Moonwatch was the safest place he could do that. If he got out of control, there were enough wolves there that they should be able to put him down without any causalities.

  He wanted to throw the cross on his neck out the window as Willow and Derek grew silent and the truck’s engine hummed to life. He
didn’t know what he did to anger God, but he sure did it. He didn’t know what he believed in anymore. He didn’t know what he wanted. Never before had he felt lost, but now lost was all he knew.

  Chapter 4

  IT HAD BEEN A solid month since Beatrice had heard from Erin. It wasn’t like Erin to give up when she wanted something. She was persistent like all of Beatrice’s clients were. Ava never dealt with the relations side of the business, but she knew and heard enough.

  Something wasn’t right.

  If Erin was caught, she was a loose end. She didn’t know much, but she knew all she needed to for there to be trouble if she talked.

  Once Beatrice and Ava had all their affairs in order, their merchandise stored at their safe house in Texas, they came out to the place Erin last said she was: June Hot Springs in Idaho. Beatrice also did some digging before they set out for Idaho, but Ava didn’t know much because her keeper had purposely kept her in the dark.

  They were at the largest cabin in the resort. It was also the building highest up the mountain where the hot spring water came from. The queen’s castle. Ava wondered why Beatrice seemed so confident in where they were heading. Erin hadn’t told them where in the resort she was staying, but it would have been her style to shack up in a luxurious place like this so she could look down on everyone else.

  Beatrice wasn’t in the mood to talk, so Ava kept all her thoughts and questions to herself—not that she ever said much of anything that wasn’t coaxed out of her in the first place.

  Ava followed Beatrice up to the cabin’s front door as Beatrice held out her finger to the lock. There was a little spark and then smoke floated out from the keyhole. Beatrice opened the door and Ava proceeded to follow her inside of the huge cabin. One glance at the place told Ava is was completely spotless. The witches left snowy tracks on the polished wood and the patterned rugs underneath as if they were the first people to ever step foot inside of the place.

  Scratch that. Ava saw water tracks that didn’t belong to her or her keeper. Someone else was inside. There was something else too, a tickling sensation on the back of her neck. Magic?

  “You could have knocked,” the silky-smooth voice of a male called. “I would have answered the door.”

  Ava bristled as she hid behind Beatrice, leaving just enough space that she could see over her shoulder. Ava didn’t like surprises. Despite her strength, she shied away from anything she wasn’t prepared for. She had the same problem even when she was prepared. It wasn’t until Beatrice commanded her and threw her into the fire that her adrenaline kicked in and she remembered her power.

  “Rogue,” Beatrice said. The calm in her voice settled Ava’s nerves some. Apparently, her keeper had been expecting company.

  Movement in the shadows caught Ava’s eye as a man emerged. He glided over to a windowsill where he took a seat. Ava could envision a tail swishing around him. His mannerisms, the way he walked confident and smooth reminded her of a variety of big cat shifters she and Beatrice had captured. His eyes were currently shining a bright gold too. That left her with no doubt, but what was a feline shifter doing here? He didn’t appear to be broken. His soul was intact.

  “You’re lucky, Beatrice,” the shifter continued. “Trinity doesn’t know anything more than your first name.”

  Ava tensed, but Beatrice remained calm. “Stand down, Ava. Everything is fine. I’m the one who hired Rogue’s services.” She pulled out a wad of cash from inside of the blouse of her elaborate gothic dress. Everything she was wearing was black, including her makeup. She wore thick leggings and a long black coat to keep the chill away, but she never wore anything she didn’t deem stylish.

  Instead of walking over to the shifter, Rogue, and handing him the cash, she tossed it to him since it was bound together with a rubber band. He caught it effortlessly and ran his fingers across the bills, creating that sputtering sound of fluttering paper. “Nice doing business with you,” he said with a purr.

  “You said a pack of wolf shifters as well as Trinity Shifters came up here for Erin, right?”

  Rogue shrugged as he continued to flip through the money. “Yeah, Blue Pack. They’re from Moonwatch, a little town not too far from here. It’s a two-hour drive or something.”

  Beatrice told Ava that Rogue was fine, but she couldn’t stop the crawling feeling on her skin from setting her on edge. It didn’t help that the skin on the back of her neck was still prickling, warning her about some sort of presence. There were all kinds of shifters. Some wouldn’t bat an eye at shifter collectors as long as they were on their good side, but—

  Beatrice gave Ava the look, the one where her eyes were wide and black with the Black Magic bubbling in her body. “Do it, Ava. Take him.”

  Like a puppet on a string, Ava’s nerves stilled and she walked out from behind Beatrice’s shadow. Her hands tingled, her fingertips hurting, as the Black Magic she conjured manifested into smoky tendrils.

  Rogue tensed as he hopped down from the windowsill and pocketed his money. He hunched over slightly, allowing his slicked-back brown hair to fall into his eyes. His fingers were clawed at his sides and he bared his gleaming white teeth. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

  Ava ran right for him. She held her hands out in front of her and launched the darkness she harnessed—but Rogue was fast. He darted out of the way and the Black Magic hit the wood. Luckily, the magic she conjured was meant for living/breathing things only, so the cabin was left untouched. This meant her attack wasn’t as powerful as it could have been if she hadn’t been discriminatory, but Beatrice always warned her about the dangers of collateral damage.

  Rogue pounced back, slashing at Ava before she had a chance to implement her next move. Pain burned through her skin as Rogue raked his clawed nails across her right arm, but it only lasted a moment. Ava anticipated the strike. She caught Rogue with her left hand, blazing with new Black Magic. He yowled and yanked out of her grasp, but the magic stayed. Black fire burned his arm, and his skin sizzled and steamed. He clawed at his arm, but the magic would stay for as long as Ava willed it—as long as he stayed close. Rogue must have had experience with witches because his next move was to throw himself out the window. Ava blinked as the sound of shattering glass blasted in her ears. A howl was on the frozen wind.

  The White Wolf.

  Ava balked. She felt a stabbing pain in her left inner thigh and crumpled to the floor. She lost all control. He was coming for her. Soon. His howl was more persistent. There was a new tone she wasn’t used to. She wondered why the White Wolf had been so quiet for the last month. This was why. Blue Pack. Moonwatch. Wolf shifters. The White Wolf. It was all connected somehow.

  The end was coming.

  “Ava!” Beatrice shrieked. “Get up! Bind him!”

  Beatrice rushed out the door, not bothering to wait for Ava to join her. Ava heard the crackle of Black Magic ring through the air as she tried to force herself to her feet. For Beatrice. She had to do this for Beatrice. The one person in the world who had ever given her anything. The one person who gave her purpose.

  Ava dug her ruined fingers into the wood and winced, but it cleared her head. She pushed off the ground and ran to meet up with Beatrice. Beatrice had Rogue bound in a smoky cage, but his feet were still touching the ground. He was still struggling. The sweat on Beatrice’s brow showed how hard of a fight this was.

  Sidling up to Beatrice, Ava took the smoke from her hands and willed a more powerful bind on Rogue. She called more darkness and stopped him from moving. Rogue’s last attempt to fight was to shift. He shredded his clothes with sharp claws and silky black fur sprouted from his bronze skin, coating his body. His gold eyes blazed with fury. He was a black panther. He let out a loud scream that was joined by a howl. Ava held fast this time, determined not to let the howl distract her.

  The White Wolf’s howl grew louder. She could see him running to her from out of her peripheral. It’s an illusion. She had to chant over and over that he wasn’t here
, wasn’t tangible—not yet. She flinched and closed her eyes for a split second when the wolf leaped at her. He never connected. The moment he touched her, he dissipated into a cloud of white.

  She drew a deep breath and ordered the black panther, “Submit.” Her hands were trembling. Her fingertips were bleeding. The panther wouldn’t listen. He kept screaming. This was it. Ava had hit her limit of one hundred and thirty shifter souls. She couldn’t take another one. She dropped the black panther as her body shook and sweat beaded on her skin. Once again, she was on her hands and knees. This time she was in the freezing snow.

  Beatrice screamed back at the struggling panther as he scrambled to his feet to run. She chased him with purple static in her hands. She had given up on capturing him. She would kill him instead. Ava closed her eyes and let the cold take her as she face-planted. Her vision was going in and out, a wobbling motion of things getting bigger and smaller like someone was holding a magnifying glass to her eyes and then pulling it away.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed like that as the cold stole all feeling from her body. Her eyes closed and the world went black for a time.

  “Ava!” Beatrice’s voice brought her back to consciousness.

  The faint tickle of something touching her was all she could feel. Ava opened her eyes to see Beatrice holding her in the snow. She wished she could feel more. It must have been nice to be so close to her warmth like this. She wanted to feel it. She wanted the numbness to go away.

  “What happened?” Beatrice demanded.

  “I-I think I h-hit my limit.” Ava couldn’t stop the shaking.

  Beatrice opened her mouth but closed it again as she looked over her shoulder. She pointed to the snow a few feet away. A capsule sized wisp of Black Magic shot from her finger to the place she was pointing and exploded like a small grenade, spraying snow and earth into the air like a geyser. Beatrice pinpointed whatever was making the back of Ava’s neck bristle. It was gone. Ava understood what it was now. She was sensing Earth Magic, Terros. An Earth Shifter had been spying on them with Terros Sight. Beatrice had told her about this kind of magic, but she had never felt it before.

 

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