Desert Moon (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 1)

by Anna Lowe

  When she awoke in the guest house and stretched, she checked the clock. Twice. That hour or two had stretched to six. Apparently, a long night of spectacularly fulfilling sex had taken its toll on her. Was Ty feeling it, too?

  She wandered outside, hoping for a glimpse of him and immediately sensed that something was going on. Something big. The serenity of the ranch had been replaced by a leaden silence. The few pack members who were out and about wore dark looks and sniffed the air anxiously. Even old Jean seemed unsettled when Lana stopped by, rattling her teacup and jumping at every sound. Where were the rogues? What had the scouts discovered?

  When she finally did catch a glimpse of Ty in the center of a huddle of men by the ranch gate, he looked deadly and resolute. When he glanced up, his gaze traveled through the air like a shock wave. She would have given anything to read his mind now, but the armor was locked in place and buckled tight.

  When Ty immediately turned his attention to the business at hand without even acknowledging her, her heart sank. Last night, everything had seemed so clear. Now, in the light of day, she wasn’t so sure. There was no signal from him, not even a blip, and her mother’s warnings echoed in her mind. She could never establish equal footing with an alpha. She’d be relegated to the role of cook, maid, and sometime bedmate, expected to be at her powerful mate’s beck and call.

  Maybe she needed to set emotion aside and think this through. Her pride, her independence, and her career were all at stake. Was she really prepared to risk everything for this man?

  Yes! her wolf screamed.

  The thing was, the beast was prone to seeing things in black and white. Real life was layered with nuances, and she couldn’t just will them away. All Lana could do was return to the shaded porch of the guest house and sit there simmering in uncertainty.

  Things only got worse when an uninvited guest appeared. Audrey, wearing a broad smile that could only mean trouble.

  “Lana, I just—” Audrey started, sashaying forward with all the warmth of a rattlesnake. Then she pulled up short, sniffing.

  Here it comes, she groaned. More teasing.

  Audrey pursed her ruby-red lips and smiled. Or was that a scowl? “Welcome to the sorority, honey.”

  She blinked.

  “So, how was it?” Audrey urged. Her words fell with the sticky drip of fresh blood.

  Sorority? Her mind whirred. A group of women who had…what? Audrey leaned forward, eager to hear every luscious detail of her seismic night.

  A sorority of women who’d slept with Ty? Her gut heaved as Audrey’s thick lips curved into a smug smile.

  Audrey had slept with Ty? Her stomach twisted into a knot.

  Audrey chuckled in staccato, cutting thrusts. “Oh, it must have been good, I can tell. But of course, with Ty, it’s always good.”

  Always? She nearly choked.

  Audrey’s dreamy eyes went up as if she were reveling in her own carnal memories. “He’s screwed all the girls here, honey.”

  Her jaw swung open. “Everyone?” Did he take them all to the cabin, too? Shower them with that incomparable blend of tenderness and blazing desire? But that could hardly be called screwing. She studied Audrey. Was she just trying to rile up the new girl in town?

  The blond’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “He gets a piece of just about every woman who passes through here. And who would say no?”

  The punch landed square in the gut, just as intended. She hadn’t said anything but yes, yes, yes.

  But what about the promise in his eyes? Had she misjudged him so badly? Lana wavered, her stomach churning. She knew it was only Audrey’s word versus her wolf’s love-struck heart and frankly, neither was to be trusted. God, nothing would hurt more than finding out she was just another easy fuck for Ty. The flavor of the month. The flavor of the week, for all she knew.

  Her heart sank. Here she’d been, thinking Ty was the One. But maybe history was repeating itself. After all, her mother had left Arizona to escape Ty’s father, a man incapable of love.

  Like father, like son?

  “I’ll let you down easy, honey.” Audrey’s triumphant tone suggested just the opposite. She forced herself to meet the woman’s eyes, determined to deny her the pleasure. “He’s taken.”

  Taken? Was this another of Audrey’s games?

  “He’s taken, well and good. Just…waiting.”

  “Waiting for who?” She scraped the words through the sandpaper of her throat.

  Audrey’s face took on a vengeful sheen as a long fingernail slashed the horizon. “Some woman he met years ago,” she spat. “That’s what he told Lucy after they slept together and she ran to him crying every day for a month.” Every dagger that pierced Lana’s heart was a bull’s eye for Audrey. “He said he lost his heart to someone a long time ago. He can never love anyone but her. The bitch.” Audrey sniffed, nose held high.

  “Who?” She’d been so sure that their night had been the first of a lifetime. Maybe she’d been waiting so long, she couldn’t recognize the difference between love and lust. She pictured Ty again. The certainty, the devotion she’d seen in his eyes. How could there be another woman in his life?

  Audrey shrugged, “Who? That’s the million dollar question. We think it’s some tramp from over in Utah. He came back from a trip there totally smitten. Never seen a man so wrung out,” she cackled in glee before letting poison seep back into her features. “Why he doesn’t just take the woman and put us all out of our misery is a mystery.” Audrey heaved a tragic sigh, stretched, and stood in a pose that suggested she might dust her hands off and conclude with something like My work here is done.

  “You’ll get over him,” Audrey called out instead, swinging her full hips down the walkway. “We all do.”

  Reason and emotion went to war in her mind, and her wolf reared up inside, indignant. Ty is ours! Ours alone! Are you going to believe this tramp over the look in our mate’s eyes?

  She swallowed back the bile in her throat and shook her head. Ty was a man of honor who’d left her with a promise. If he’d ever been the player Audrey made him out to be, that was a thing of the past. The connection she had with Ty was all about the future. Still, there was no taking the sting out of Audrey’s words.

  She tensed as Audrey turned around for a last dig. “Maybe he’ll think of you while he fights,” the blonde offered in half-hearted consolation.

  She froze. “What do you mean?”

  Audrey shrugged in disinterest. “He’s gone off to find the rogues. Finish them off.”

  As if it were as easy as that. Lana doubted that Audrey had experience fighting anything worse than a bad hair day. A band of rogues was a deadly threat that would require the full strength of the pack.

  But wait, had Ty really left to fight without her? She pushed herself up from her chair, every muscle wound tight. He’d promised! “Where? Where did he go?”

  Audrey waved a lazy hand toward the north, unconcerned. “Somewhere in the hills.” From the looks of it, she would be perfectly happy to wait by the pool while the men did the fighting. Or worse, pack a picnic basket and watch from a safe distance, like one of those misguided southern belles who’d gone out to spectate at Civil War battles.

  A rush of heat pumped through her body. Like hell she’d be one of those women! Like hell she’d let Ty fight without her. In the space of her next two breaths, Lana pushed past Audrey, unleashed her inner wolf, and ran for the hills. For her mate, for the enemy, for whatever grain of truth she might find.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was more than a point of pride. It was a point of honor. Lana was the one who found the rogue camp. She wanted to finish this as much as anyone else. She had a right, damn it!

  The scar on her arm flared as she ran, fast and furious in her wolf form. That rogue fight, years ago, had claimed two of her packmates’ lives. Rogues fought dirty, with the recklessness of those with nothing to lose. And while shifters were tough, they were still mortal. Lana had learned that lesson all
too well. She didn’t relish a battle, but she wouldn’t shy away, either.

  But that was only half the issue. How could Ty have gone off without her? He’d promised not to! She shook her head as she ran. If Ty had lied to her about that, he could very well be lying about other things. Maybe the whole night had been a lie.

  His scent dogged her, driving her crazy with lust, love, and the first fissures of renewed heartbreak. Even as she left the valley for higher ground, his scent persisted. She paused just long enough to scratch her ear with her hind leg, annoyed. If he proved to be a deceiver, how long would it take to scrub every last trace of him away?

  She’d go back East and his scent would still be there, teasing her with what could have been. Sorority. Flavor of the month. What if she was nothing to him?

  Her footfalls only seemed to pound the misery further into her soul, yet Lana hammered onward, resolute. She’d show Ty how a Dixon could fight. She’d earn his respect, even if it meant losing his affection—if that hadn’t all been a show.

  He will be true to us! her wolf insisted.

  Then let him prove it, her human side retorted.

  She leaped over a rabbit hole, then forced herself to mute the competing voices. A fight called for a clear head and clear tactics. So what the hell was she doing, running off without thinking things through?

  She slowed to a trot and sniffed the air, collecting her thoughts. First things first. She’d track down Ty, deal with the rogues, then deal with the rest.

  A good plan, but the dry air revealed no trace of either the alpha or the rogues. Like an amateur, she was chasing shadows. She should have followed Ty’s trail from the ranch instead of setting off on the basis of Audrey’s vague indication.

  Audrey. What if she’d been lying all along?

  She stopped altogether and turned in a slow circle, testing the air for any hint of the truth. But there was nothing, only a burning emptiness. The desert hid its secrets well.

  Water, she decided. She’d find some water, then start her search anew.

  She sniffed her way to a relic of a creek and followed it upstream, suddenly parched. She scratched at the dry creek bed, but found nothing. Farther up, maybe? She trotted uphill, then shifted to human form when she reached a thin trickle of water. She knelt and scooped a restless handful, entirely focused on the cool liquid.

  Five yards to her right, the bushes rustled, and her head whipped around. From the left came the sharp click of a snapping twig. There was a chuckle, and two men emerged from the undergrowth, one on each side.

  Her eyes went to the man on the right first. He was wiry, rugged, and wicked, like the Marlboro man gone wrong. He smiled coolly at Lana in the slanting afternoon sun, letting his gaze scrape against every inch of her exposed skin.

  She all but rolled her eyes. He had to be one of those mountain hermits who’d been out in the bush too long, smoking too much of who knows what. She could smell it on him. Unconcerned, she stretched to her full height and swung her head to the man on the left. He had the same calculating eyes, the same horny bulge in his natty jeans. His face and hair had a pale cast to them: not quite that of an albino, but close.

  She swallowed her surprise. So what if she was naked and alone? In two steps, she’d be in the cover of the bushes. A couple more and she’d shift and race away. These pathetic humans could never match her speed. Still, it had been stupid of her to let down her guard.

  Her ears twitched, picking up the sound of third man, blocking the way behind. She could sense his presence.

  “Look at what we got here, boys.” The pale one’s lips curled into a grimace of a smile, tongue poised suggestively on his lower lip. “A visitor, at last.”

  The man on the right took a step nearer, breaking into a nasty grin. “We haven’t had a visitor in quite some time.”

  Visitor? They were the trespassers here! Lana squinted against the sun and registered their strange, scratched faces and too-bright eyes for the first time. She sniffed again and felt the scar on her arm flare up. The smell of their unwashed bodies masked another scent, one she picked up too late. It was the smell of fall, of leaves left too long. Rotten, forgotten.

  Rogues. The men were the coyote rogues everyone was after. She’d found them. But where was Ty?

  There were three of them. No, four; there was another crouching just out of sight behind the trees. The hair on her spine prickled as her wolf pushed toward the surface.

  “Don’t worry,” said the pale one, “we know how to show a lady a good time.” Though he flashed a warm smile as he spoke, his voice carried the breath of an Arctic wind.

  She gulped away the bile rising in her throat. She had to think fast. Standing naked in front of these desperadoes was only egging them on. She had to shift—now. As a wolf, she’d be better equipped to fight or flee. A male coyote would be close to her wolf size; she could take on one. Two would be tricky, but she could do it if need be.

  But three? Four?

  Those odds, she wouldn’t bet on. Better to run and get out before the noose tightened.

  “Hey, Yas, I call first go,” Marlboro man chuckled to the pale one—the leader.

  Yas? She’d heard that name before. The native son gone wrong. Badly wrong.

  “Save a little of her for me, boys,” Yas snickered, and they closed in.

  She was a second ahead with her transformation, and her canines ripped out the throat of the nearest one before he had a chance to react. Warm blood flooded her mouth as she leaped into the bush, spitting out the bitter rogue taste. Her paws clawed for purchase in the dirt as the bush behind her came alive with the coyotes’ excited barks. They, too, had shifted and taken up the chase.

  She fled, her mind calculating as her legs raced on. She could probably outrun these coyotes, but reinforcements would feel awfully reassuring. Ty! she screamed, pouring everything into the inner cry. If they truly were destined mates, he would hear her.

  Jesus, what a test. She listened for some answer, some sign. But there was nothing, only the drum of her feet on the hard ground and the excited yips of her pursuers. She was on her own.

  One of the coyotes was nearly upon her, and another was panting up a storm not far behind. Lana put on a burst of speed but couldn’t quite find her pace, not like she could in the woods of the east. This was a slalom course of cacti and bush with no discernible pattern. She dodged right, darted left, and sprinted ahead, but not quick enough.

  A tawny coyote cut in front of her from upslope. A fifth one? She cursed and jumped away, having no choice but to cut left, up a winding gully. She sprang over a jumble of boulders that marked a dry stream bed, then sprinted onward as the walls of the valley grew higher on both sides. Yes, that was it—she was breaking away. She hammered around a corner and up to—

  A dead end.

  She skidded to a halt, nose pointing up at impossibly steep walls. No way out there, not for a wolf, not for human. Not even for a mountain goat. She wheeled, only to find two coyotes blocking the way with a third joining them. It was through them or up the cliff.

  She turned tail and leaped for a high outcrop, clawing for a grip. She nearly had it, front paws scratching on rock, hindquarters scrambling, showering her pursuers in dirt. Every muscle in her body strained as she urged herself on. Almost there—

  Fire rocketed through her back leg and a leaden weight dragged her back. She clawed desperately at air until she landed with a slam, her shoulder smashing against a rock. When she scrambled to all fours to face them, she counted five coyotes. Or were there six? She gasped in spite of herself, then spotted more movement behind her attackers.

  Yas, still in human form, came sauntering up to them, his face alight with evil thrill.

  Seven. Seven to one. It would be a fight to the death. Her death. The fact that she would take two or three more of them with her was little consolation.

  If she’d still been in human form, she might have wailed out loud. Ty! What she wouldn’t give to have him at her
side now. But that was not to be. She was alone, now more than ever.

  The coyotes circled, keeping their muzzles down and their throats covered. They were evil, not stupid. Lana did a quick calculation. She was at least as tall as them, but lighter. If they pinned her down, it would all be over. She had to stay on her feet. Her only chance was to find their weak link and somehow rip her way through.

  A coyote with a long scar across one eye lunged from the right. She sidestepped with a roar that echoed off the gully walls, then swiped at his flank. She felt the gratifying tear of flesh as the coyote screamed, his pelt torn and bleeding. Two more were on her right away, but she scattered them with a ferocious slash. They beat a hasty retreat as Yas cackled something derisive.

  She fought to control her breathing, concentrating on keeping her back to the rocks. Somehow, she had to break them down, one at a time.

  Her head went into a spin as three of the brutes charged simultaneously. She whirled, dodging one, batting the other, trying to keep an eye on the third. Somewhere in the melee, she felt claws rip into her rump, and an instant later, sharp canines punctured her outstretched paw. She lurched off balance and they immediately pounced. Growls pounded through her head as she clawed at the ground, kicking desperately. She had to get up! She had to break loose! She had to—

  She froze the instant jaws clamped over her neck, coyote canines digging to within a hair's breadth of her jugular. It was the death hold. One squeeze and her life would gush out in a crimson deluge. She hung limp in the coyote’s jaws, twisted and powerless. The sour panting of her captor ruffled her fur, smelling of foul game and rotting flesh. The snarls resounding in her ears changed in pitch as the others moved in to join him. When one of them sniffed her rear, she let out a mighty kick but froze when the jaws around her neck pinched tighter. The message was clear. One move and she was dead.