Moonlight Lovers: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 7)

by K. R. Alexander

  I left most of the rest of the stuff in the duffel to bring with us in the camper trailer. Nice to already be packed for the morning.

  “Jay? Do you mind if I take over the bathroom? I’m going to shower and lie down for emails and texts.”

  “Make yourself at home. Do you need anything else to eat? Or in general?”

  “I would love some herbal tea when I get out. That’s it. Thanks.”

  He emerged from the bedroom doorway with the antler while I was heading for the bathroom with my backpack. He stopped me with a hug, kissing my cheek.

  “Thanks, Cassia. You didn’t have to bring Spike.”

  “You’re very welcome. Glad I could. If you don’t mind, I’ll ward that for you, and all of your homes before we leave here.”

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  By the time I was out of the shower and dressed in tank top and pajama bottoms for bed, Jason had everything set up for me. Sheet and duvet turned down, pillows propped for my back, a steaming mug at the bedside table. The blinds were partly drawn, letting in only a little sunlight, windows open beyond for a faint summer breeze, the room hot but not stuffy.

  Jason was fastidiously unpacking, sorting out a laundry pile and repacking both his and Kage’s bags to start the next day’s trip. Spike stood in one of the two armchairs in the living room.

  I’d just thanked him and settled with a sigh into my nest with notebook, phone, and papers at hand, when someone banged savagely at the front door.

  I jumped straight out of bed, heart in my throat. Someone here after me? Ready to order me out? Or worse? Surely as long as Diana—

  No. I hadn’t even reached the bedroom doorway, skin tingling with adrenaline, when Jason had the front door open.

  “You scheming arsehole! What the fuck is wrong with you? Think I’m visiting that bleeding country to get more anytime soon?”

  It was Andrew. I leaned into the bedroom doorframe, palm pressed over my pounding heart.

  Jason moved back into the kitchen counter, smiling as Andrew stepped into the doorway, brandishing a glass jar in his face.

  “I had to give up three PayDays to that hoard—and that only from breaking them into tiny pieces to share around. They’d have cleared out the lot.”

  “I didn’t make you give up any. Wouldn’t share with me.” Jason still smiled. “You didn’t have to share with them either. Up to you.”

  “You knob-headed maggot—that’s what this is about? Send in the ants because I wouldn’t share my picnic? You got your souvenirs.” Andrew jabbed his finger at the bundle of leash and prong collar still lying on the kitchen table. “I got mine. Caramel bars. Keep your fucking paws off them.”

  Andrew thrust the jar at him, looking like he was going to punch Jason in the stomach. Jason caught it.

  “Offer that around if they come banging on your door,” Andrew snapped. It was some sort of nut butter or spread. “Leave my stuff alone.” Voice dropping to a snarl.

  “I didn’t take anything from you, Switch. You’re over—”

  “Like hell. How can you possibly think you’d get away with that bullshit with me? Last trick you pulled almost got us killed just to get you attention. But payback against someone hurting your feelings by not sharing their sweets—like you’re a fucking twisted up pup on a playground—is in even worse taste. Stop it. Or stay away from this pack—stay home and let us get our work done without you.”

  Jason’s smile had turned to a smirk. “Someone make you silver now?” His tone was gently mocking. He didn’t sound any more upset than he looked.

  “Fuck you.” Andrew turned to go.

  “Hey,” I said quietly from the doorway.

  Andrew looked around, spotting me there through the living room in my tank top, hair wet with a towel on my shoulders.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Him almost getting you killed? Did I miss something?”

  Andrew’s eyes darted to the antler in the chair and Jason’s bags he’d been repacking. He shook his head. “It’s nothing, Belle.” Tone changed, but still tight. “We all got into some shit in the mountains. It’s fine.”

  “Is it? Andrew, I’m sure we can find somewhere to order American candy bars in this country. But I understand that’s not why you’re upset. It’s the principle of the thing. I’m sorry. Won’t you tell me what happened?”

  Andrew looked at the living room floor rather than me, chest rising and falling with rough breathing. Jason, holding the jar in both hands, leaned back into the edge of the kitchen sink where he faced Andrew, though he looked out the kitchen window.

  “Jason?” I said quietly. “Do you want to tell me?”

  Nothing.

  Andrew turned away again.

  “It was that cougar, wasn’t it?” I said. “That’s why Jason was the only one hurt?”

  Andrew paused, yet they didn’t say anything.

  “You found that mountain lion and deliberately provoked him into a fight so Kage would be there to protect you again, and you could all chase it?”

  Pause, then, “Something like that,” Andrew said. “One wolf’s laugh is another wolf’s near-death experience.”

  “It was just one cat, Switch. There were three of us—”

  “Right.” Andrew looked up. “And only one in on the joke. You leave my life, and my stuff, alone.” Andrew flipped him off and stalked away, his sneakers crunching over the gravel path.

  Jason watched him go, then down to the jar, turning it in his hands. After a minute, he glanced at me, finally looking serious. “Sorry…”

  “You don’t owe me an apology, Jay. This is between you and them.”

  He gazed out the window.

  I returned to sit up in bed—to focus on deep breaths and all I needed to get done before I was asleep.

  By sound, I followed Jason in locking the door and going back to his work. He picked up the collar from the table, probably to add to his own bag and bring along. Or to display on the wall.

  Locked in. No enemies at the gate. But were there any inside this wall?

  “Jason? Do you mind if I play some music?”

  “Of course not. Go ahead. I’m just getting ready for tomorrow. Maybe get a shower too.”

  I started my depression-soothing Christmas playlist, slow and nostalgic, while I went through my notebook, beginning with “Grown Up Christmas List.”

  I read and updated my lists on the case, including scry notes, and resisted reading the notes Zar had made about his shamanic journey. I’d like to talk to all of them about their journeys, see if we could come up with anything else useful. Should be time now on this new trip.

  I wrote to Gabriel with thanks, letting him know about the fence and that we were safely home.

  I wrote to Rowan that we were in the country and had new information, ready to head north tomorrow, feeling close this time. Were they okay? Any news from the druids? I didn’t say, Any more murders? But wondered.

  I wrote to Gavin, also that we were back. What state were the vampires in? Still losses? Had he seen any large, four-footed carnivores lurking out at night in Yorkshire lately?

  Then I wrote a long, long email to my sister, about her, and Henry, and about me. I didn’t send it. I only worked on it, revised, read, changed parts, for an hour before I knew I’d have to hold off: send in the morning when I was really awake. Give it a last read. But it was time. Time to admit I was back in the country—that part could be true that I’d just arrived—and that I needed her help sorting out how to stay here because… Because…

  Silent nights… Heirlooms… No more lives torn apart … and love would never end…

  Chapter 23

  The best way to acclimatize to a new time zone is to dive right in. Don’t think about “your time.” Live by the new clock. I knew that. However, actually doing it…

  I couldn’t allow myself to be asleep by 5:00 p.m. but fought my way through another cup of tea and bookmarking articles I wanted to read regarding psychology. Some wer
e straightforward. Andrew and grief I largely understood. I had more trouble drawing a correlation for Jed and self-loathing his skin form that could be translated into human conditions. And Jason … I didn’t even know what search term to put in.

  I got distracted with a fascinating article on eating disorders, plus kept awake by a lively commotion in the living room. Andrew had been right. More pups had come calling on Jason, who hadn’t yet been able to shower. He shared around whatever snack he had in the jar while telling stories about Rocky Mountains and Yellowstone and a particular bull moose—which sounded more exciting and less terrifying in the retelling.

  Then what really kept me awake was my next distraction: reading about stages and things to expect in pregnancy. I didn’t go too far down the list. I could live with tender breasts when that started, but having to go pee every few minutes? While we were working this case in unpredictable conditions? And it got worse.

  I stopped with an overview in early and middle pregnancy stages, not wanting to turn myself into a hypochondriac and create anything just because I’d read it online. Bound to be plenty more real symptoms soon enough. Instead, I moved on to baby’s first year for reading. That was a hell of a lot more fun and interesting.

  But not so interesting I wasn’t almost asleep with sunlight still blazing outside as the sun sunk toward the woods on the other side of the property.

  The pups were long gone I realized as I started awake to Kage’s voice.

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up more. My phone had gone to sleep while I’d read. So had I.

  “Kage? Should I see Diana tonight? How are they?”

  He appeared in the bedroom doorway from the living room. “You can talk to her in the morning.” He was shaking his head. “Mood’s sharp. Best you’re here anyway.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you all right? Are they giving you all a hard time?”

  “Not us in particular. At each other’s throats—the whole pack. Diana doesn’t want us going north to hunt. Not after Peter and them vanished. Everyone gutted about that. Too many gone and not back.”

  “What would she have us do? Sit here with the pack and cross our fingers? Hope they lose interest once they see we have a fence? Maybe they’ll only go on killing off all the other shifters in the area but not Sables?”

  “Told her we’re going to stop them. Only … don’t have much leverage, do I? We’ve not made a bang up job so far.” He grimaced. “Don’t worry about it tonight. Sleep. Jay’s going to see his family. I still have more calls to make when he’s back, and get the caravan ready for tomorrow, then we’ll all get some sleep.”

  We’d discussed it on the train: taking the Jeep and caravan again, not the motorcycles after that had turned out to be an issue in Yorkshire.

  “Go ahead. I really don’t think you have to guard me here, Kage.”

  He made a noncommittal noise in his throat and walked away. “I’ll clear a spot for vulture-face. He was already stalking over. Proper narked because everyone’s got their hackles stiff and their noses up our arses wanting to know what we’ve been on about. Rumor had started we were dead and all.” He was heading for the front door.

  “That’s not surprising. But Isaac kept in touch with Diana most of the time. And didn’t Andrew communicate with anyone? They knew we weren’t dead.”

  “Diana’s word is meaning less around here.”

  “A scary thought.” I sighed.

  Still, as long as it was all over soon, it didn’t matter.

  Kage was outside now, moving beyond the open living room window, which I could only hear, not see. He muttered something.

  “Why don’t you let him in?” I called. “You get your own visiting done, then we’ll all go to bed, like you said.”

  Another mumble. Annoyed, and I think in answer to me.

  “Kage, let him come sit with me and you get done what you need to.”

  When he’d finished outside, Kage returned, this time speaking angrily but clearly to someone else. “You want to sit here, carrion-eater? We won’t be long.”

  I waited, hearing only steps, then Kage returned to the bedroom doorway.

  “Need anything?”

  “I’m fine. Is he going to stay?”

  “Right there.” Kage jerked his head and I gathered Jed was in the kitchen. “Back soon.”

  With Kage gone I waited but heard nothing.

  “Jed? You can come in here…”

  Claws on the linoleum floor. Jed made his cautious, sniffing way into the bedroom.

  “Hey, handsome. Never been in here before?”

  A streak of sunlight in from the living room or kitchen window made his dark coat appear highlighted in red. His nose twitched and he remained alert, slightly crouching as he sniffed this way and that.

  “Not much to see now. You should have sniffed a ‘before and after.’” I patted the bed.

  Jed sniffed the duvet, ears back, lips fluttering up from his fangs.

  I almost laughed. “Yes, the home of your nemesis. But Jason’s out. Come on.”

  While Jed was making up his mind, I checked my phone to close all windows on babies and pregnancy, then set it aside on the charge cord I had ready with an adaptor.

  At last, he sprang lightly onto the bed, belying his great bulk, and padded through the fluffy duvet to me.

  He sniffed down my hair and face and hands, wagging his tail as if we’d been parted a long time.

  “I’d say, ‘longest day ever,’ but we’ve had worse. Did you talk to your mom? Anyone else you need to see? You didn’t spend much time home being speech-capable.”

  He touched my ear with his nose.

  I slipped down in the bed, moving the pillows from my propped up position, struggling since he was standing on the covers. Jed lay carefully beside me, still glancing around the new space which he seemed to think may have been booby-trapped.

  “I’ve been impressed by how well you coped with air travel,” I said, settling on my side. “This meant a lot to you. I don’t know what’s next, but I’ll need to go back to Oregon soon, even if I’m mostly staying here. I hope you’ll join me; have another chance to visit Mount Hood and that whole area.”

  Jed dragged his gaze from the room at large to meet my eyes.

  I shifted down in place. “Too early to go to sleep.” A stern reminder to myself as my eyelids sagged. Just resting. Yeah, right. Like Kage’s, “Just being friendly.”

  The chocolate wolf head loomed above and beside me with ears pricked, thick fur framing the face like a mane. I’d brought his brush back with us after all.

  “Here’s a question.” I suppressed a yawn. “What do whiskers do? Help you sense things? How?” I pushed his damp nose with a fingertip.

  Jed’s whiskers twitched forward. Nana’s cat’s whiskers used to do the same thing. They would also go forward when she was about to pounce or was otherwise alert to something afoot.

  I stroked up his muzzle and lightly over his whiskers with the same fingertip.

  Jed shut his eyes.

  “They help you see in the dark?”

  He licked my hand just a bit—delicate about it.

  “Did you see Diana?”

  He cocked his head.

  “I just thought you should all check in with your silver when you’re home. Shouldn’t you?”

  He pushed his nose under my hand.

  “I’ll see her in the morning. I suppose all of us before we go.” I sighed and fluffed the pillow. “I’m glad you’ve been along on this trip, and getting to spend extra time in fur lately since…” I almost said “since you’re nicer” but wanted to keep things positive. The flip side of his niceness in fur was his tendency to be an asshole in his other form. But we were working on that too. He hadn’t been lashing out at me lately—or even the others nearly so much as he used to.

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to help us in Wales. It’s a bit scary to be so close, isn’t it? Walking into the dragon’s den? But just think about having this solved.
Won’t it be a breath of fresh air to all get on with our lives? Have a swim? Visit a museum? Go for a walk or picnic without fear?”

  My phone buzzed from a text.

  “Rowan,” I told Jed as I grabbed it and he watched from close range. “Says … fine with the druids … only trouble in the south … doesn’t seem to think much of our idea to head north. Hmm … I suppose that’s a good point. Have to tell him about Peter. And ask if the druids know anything about Welsh and northern packs. I don’t think they have any more contact with shifters than casters do as a rule, but we’ll see…”

  I moved for both hands on the phone, trying to type while Jed touched the back of my hand with his nose.

  “Just a second.”

  He nudged harder, making me scramble a word and have to backtrack.

  “Hey.” I glared and kept typing.

  Jed slumped over on his side, facing me, head at the level of my shoulder, and waved a paw like an oven mitt at me.

  I had to roll away—my back to him to finish and send it. When I turned back, holding up my own hand and allowing Jed’s paw to meet it, I was fascinated by the rough bulk. His paw was not as large around as my hand with all my fingers splayed out, but much, much larger than only my palm.

  Leaving the phone again, I studied the paw, turning it in both hands. His pads were worn and scuffed, the tips smoothed off his claws from long running, not fresh and reformed with new tissue after the change. Even more noticeable…

  “You smell like pine sap.” I looked over the paw to his face as he watched me study it. “That’s so weird. Hardly as if you’re dusty from the trail. If you heal wounds when you change, how can you have calluses and cracked pads?”

  I splayed out his thick toes to make sure there wasn’t Rocky Mountain soil in there. No … his paws were a bit dusty, but that was from trotting over here just now.

  Phone chirp.

  “Your feet smell like an Oregon forest,” I told him, letting go. “Very weird.”

  Yes, the tissues healed and reformed, but there was a certain part of them that was … on hold. The shape they left behind sat in stasis. For example, Andrew had spent four days in fur, then, when he’d changed back, he was still clean shaven. Their bodies aged but, at the same time, froze until they came back for that shape.