Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  What would tip the scale to ensure their business was selected? Chloe’s mind raced through multiple scenarios and options. After a long moment, she smiled and nodded to herself.

  “Send them a list of our supplier sources and the profit and loss statements from the past three years so they can see our growth. Include some customer testimonials and then send them a special delivery care package with samples from our best products.”

  “That’s perfect!” Brooklyn squealed. “I knew you’d come up with the answers. I’ll get on this right away.”

  Static buzzed along the line. “I better go before we lose the connection. Good job, Brook. I think we may just pull this off.”

  “Thanks to you. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  The click of the line echoed in Chloe’s ear. She laid her hand holding the phone against her thigh and exhaled a long, slow breath.

  They’d passed the first round. Would they be one of the lucky ones and obtain a coveted spot in the mall?

  Chloe rubbed the back of her neck. She hoped so with a passion that set her foot tapping. If Mom were still here, would she be proud? Would Chloe finally become worthy of respect? The back of her eyelids turned hot and gummy as tears threatened.

  The need to escape and burn off some of her nervous energy propelled her from the bed. She snagged her coat and backpack from the rack next to the sink, shoved her phone in the outside jacket pocket, and snatched the room key from the bedside table.

  She focused on the digital clock—9:32 a.m. It was still fairly early in the morning. If she hurried, she might be able to capture not only Dark Moon Falls but also Bridal Veil Falls. She rushed out the door, her doubts and fears chasing her every step of the way.

  * * *

  Issac waved to Elias as he drove away in his Highlander. Taking care of the alpha’s cars was a privilege, and Elias’s happy smile was all the thanks Issac needed. He depressed the button on the wall and the garage door rambled shut.

  His thoughts drifted to Chloe, their night spent at the diner, and the walk to her motel room. He pounded his fist on his workbench. Several tools shook from the impact, and the flashlight fell over with a loud thunk.

  Dammit. He didn’t want to think about her again. After tossing and turning in bed, he’d replayed the night’s events more times than he cared to count. He set the flashlight back in its resting spot and ran his palm over his chin on a long exhale.

  The way he’d left after kissing her was a copout. He never should’ve allowed himself to get all wrapped up in her, but he’d been attracted to her like a magnet to a fridge, immediate and with force.

  One thing was certain, she’d lit up his world with her boundless energy, quick wit, and beautiful smile. She had even made him laugh. He hadn’t done that so spontaneously in years, not since before his brother had left town.

  His gaze drifted to the dismantled motorcycle in the corner. The familiar Triumph logo on the gas tank seemed to taunt him. He really should finish the damn thing or get rid of the parts, but not today. Nope. Today he had to winterize the cabin before it snowed.

  The chance of snow had increased from ten to almost forty percent, though meteorologists never seemed to get it right. However, a little snow wouldn’t stop him.

  He pushed away from the counter, snagged his all-weather boots, and grabbed his jacket.

  Chloe…

  His wolf whined. Mate. Ours.

  “Not today, buddy.” His wolf had a one-track mind, and a part of him, one buried in the far reaches of his heart, wanted him to be right.

  Issac tugged on his coat, snatched the key to the cabin from its resting place on the pegboard, and strode out the door, eager for the long hike.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe tracked up the trail, the swish of her boots over the gravel path competing with her labored breaths. The familiar burn in her quadriceps eased some of her anxiety, and warmth settled into her chest, expanding with each beat of her heart. She lived for moments like this.

  A blue jay cawed from between the branches of a nearby evergreen, answered by another not far away. The soft babble of a stream echoed through the trees, growing louder as she hiked forward.

  She tightened her grip on her backpack and quickened her pace.

  An hour ago, she’d made it to Dark Moon Falls, and the waterfall’s spectacular plume and beautiful pool had only whetted her appetite for more. After resting for a few minutes and eating the sack lunch she’d acquired from the Hot Joy Café, she’d continued on the path, eager to find Bridal Veil Falls.

  The winding path had narrowed over the past mile or so, and patches of snow from a prior storm covered the dirt. A few snowflakes filtered through the air and landed on the trail. She glanced between the treetops. The hazy white sky seemed endless. Snow clouds, without form, made you question whether they were really there or if it was an illusion of the dull light blue of the sky.

  No way would a few snowflakes stop her. She kept moving, her enthusiasm pressing her onward. A downed tree lay across the path. Fortunately, the trunk wasn’t too big, and she climbed over the snow-covered bark.

  Light from a clearing penetrated through the trees. Was this her destination?

  Adrenaline propelled her faster toward the roar of the echoing falls.

  Minutes later, she emerged into a wide clearing. The great waterfall slid over the edge of a cliff, water spreading into a beautiful fan before crashing into the pool at its base. From there, the water traveled on a slow stream into a river that disappeared down the hill. A fine mist sprayed from the falls, the positive ions carried along on the breeze.

  Chloe closed her eyes and inhaled, enjoying the cold, refreshing water droplets splashing against her face. A wave of happiness swelled her chest, chasing away all her worries. For a long moment, she enjoyed the intense feeling of peace.

  When she opened her eyes, the snow had intensified, the flakes larger and more plentiful. She needed to return to town, but not before she captured a few photos. The perfect spot for a picture seemed near the pool’s edge.

  She shrugged off her backpack and set the bag on the ground at her feet. After snagging her phone from her pocket, she clambered over some of the rocks that encircled the waterfall’s large pool. She snapped several pictures, including a few selfies, then shoved her phone back into her pocket.

  One last look at the waterfall then—

  A low growl echoed between the trees.

  The hair along Chloe’s nape rose, and every muscle in her body tensed.

  She glanced toward the sound.

  A large wolf with mottled fur emerged from the path. He had one brown eye. The other had a milky film. Just like the shifter in the wanted poster.

  Her heart hammered. She took a tentative step back, fearful of falling into the water, but more afraid of the wolf.

  He licked his chops and padded forward, the gaze from his one good eye never wavering from her.

  A scream bottled in her throat, and her arms and legs shook.

  The wolf advanced, closing the distance.

  Pain rippled over her back. The crunch of cartilage popped along her joints. Warmth flared down her arms and along her legs.

  Chloe gaped down at her body as the hair on the back of her outstretched hands elongated along with her fingernails.

  A scream of pure terror erupted from her lips.

  The wolf snarled and ran at her.

  Agony in her limbs brought her to her knees. Her shins and palms slammed painfully against the rough stones. A shriek burst from her lips and morphed into a growl.

  A second wolf with gray fur appeared. He launched himself at the first wolf, knocking both of them to the ground. The pair tumbled over the rocks, claws and fangs flashing amidst the falling snow.

  Chloe’s breaths heaved from her lungs. Fear like she’d never known before held her in place.

  A sharp bark followed by a whine pierced the air and drowned out the waterfall’s roar. The wolves continued thei
r fight, tufts of fur flying as they scratched, clawed, and bit each other.

  Chloe’s mind spun, events morphing into some bizarre reality. Her attention bounced between the fighting males and the fur expanding over her hands. The gums at her canines ached. How was this possible?

  An earsplitting yowl echoed off the tall trees. The wolf with the mottled fur bolted for the safety of the forest, but not before he glanced at her. The promise of harm reflected in his one good eye.

  Gray wolf stood his ground and howled. The eerie call sent a shiver along her spine. He turned to face her, and his gaze roamed over her entire body.

  She should fear him, this wolf that had won the battle, but she didn’t. Instead, calmness radiated from his solemn brown eyes, setting her at ease.

  He lowered his head, once, as if to indicate he meant no harm, then approached. A gash ran along his muzzle, and bare patches on his fur revealed open wounds. This wolf had saved her, and he’d received injuries in the process.

  A measure of respect and gratitude swelled in her chest and tampered her fear and anxiety.

  The wolf morphed before her eyes, turning into a man. Not just any man, but Issac. Dressed in a heavy denim coat, a pair of jeans, and winter boots, he held out his palms.

  “It’s all right, Chloe. Let me help you.” Blood seeped from the cut along his cheek.

  “Issac?” Her voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

  The wind picked up, a biting chill that reached all the way into her bones.

  Issac took a tentative step forward. “I was on my way to my cabin. To prepare it for the winter. It’s a little way from here. You’re not injured, are you?”

  She shook her head and glanced at her hands. “W…what’s wrong with me?”

  A relieved breath eased from him, the white plume escaping toward the sky. Snow drifted in a steady stream, covering the tops of the exposed rocks.

  Issac knelt next to her and grasped her shoulders. “Let me help you stand.”

  His steady gaze calmed her racing mind, and she clung to him as he guided her to her feet. The fur on her hands receded, and she choked back a sob.

  Issac focused on the surrounding rocks then shifted his attention to the forest. His shoulders stiffened. “That rogue, Hiram Adaire, showed up in town not long ago. Figured he was just drifting through. I injured him, and I don’t think he’ll return, but based on the amount of snowfall, we shouldn’t hike to town. We might freeze before we arrive. Our best bet is to hole up at my cabin.”

  She trailed her finger along his jaw, wiping away some of the blood. “You’re injured.”

  He shrugged. “That’s not important. I’ll heal. We need to move. Can you walk?”

  Chloe took a tentative step, her self-confidence growing with each heartbeat. “Yeah. I can do this.”

  He grasped her hand and led her over the rocks.

  “Wait, my backpack.” She snagged it from the trail, slipped the strap over one shoulder, then met his gaze. “You know what’s wrong with me, don’t you?”

  Her heart pounded. She had an inkling, too, but couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Issac exhaled long and slow and ran his hand behind his neck. He glanced at her and nodded. “I believe so. Let’s discuss it when we get to the cabin.”

  A lump formed in her throat, halting any further response, so she nodded.

  He smiled at her and held out his hand.

  She placed her palm in his along with her trust.

  As they headed along the path and deeper into the forest, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d slipped down a rabbit hole. Hopefully, the Mad Hatter or a Cheshire cat wasn’t waiting to swallow what remained of her sanity.

  Chapter Eight

  Issac trudged through the snow, his boots sinking into the frozen landscape almost up to his knees. The howl of the wind whipped across his face, and frigid ice crystals stung his ears. He sent up a silent prayer, thankful his cabin lay around the next bend.

  He glanced over his shoulder. Chloe stepped in the holes he’d created in the snow, her brow furrowed, and her attention focused on her task.

  His chest tightened, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Thank the gods he’d arrived at the waterfall when he did.

  He’d hiked up the trail on the way to his cabin and had heard the wolf’s growl through the trees, along with a woman’s scream. His wolf had known right away the woman was Chloe. Instinct as old as time had propelled him to shift into his wolf and rush toward the sounds.

  When he’d arrived into the clearing at the base of the waterfall, he’d seen her hunched on the ground, the wolf preparing for his attack. On Issac’s next inhale, he’d scented her dormant wolf fighting to emerge. She must be a half-shifter, one who hadn’t shifted before because she’d seemed stuck in mid-transformation, hair elongating on her skin and turning to fur.

  Protect. Mate. His wolf had howled the words in his head.

  Fear for Chloe’s life had propelled him forward, and he’d tackled the rogue, injuring him and forcing him to flee. If the bastard didn’t find some kind of shelter, he’d die. If only Issac could be so lucky for that to happen. The guy deserved death for attacking Chloe.

  Shadows between the trees grew, elongating into sharp-tipped claws, reminding him again of the rogue. He picked up his pace through the increasingly deeper snow, eager to reach the cabin.

  So far, Chloe hadn’t asked any further questions, and he didn’t want to press her. She needed time to process her thoughts and emotions. They had a difficult conversation on the horizon. Not only about her half-wolf blood, but they also had to address his kiss and run.

  One thing was for sure, he’d have to notify Levi and the rest of the pack hunters about Hiram Adaire. Too bad he couldn’t call them. There was no cell service this far away from town.

  They rounded the bend and came into the small clearing, his cabin nestled between several large trees. Snow had drifted onto the front porch and along the edge of the door. He hadn’t visited the place in a couple of months and wasn’t sure if there was any food inside, but it would offer shelter from the storm.

  The subdued light that penetrated the clouds had darkened in the few minutes it had taken them to arrive. Soon, night would claim the forest.

  “Is that your place?” Chloe’s soft voice tickled his ears.

  He stopped and turned toward her. “Yeah. It’s not much, but any ship in a storm will do, right?”

  A coy smile formed on her lips, chasing away the tension lines on her face. “You bet. I’m in.”

  “Well, allow me then.”

  Issac traipsed up the snow-covered steps, kicked the worst of the snow away from the door, and grasped the knob. With no need for a lock way out here, he pushed open the door. As always, memories of his brother and all the times they’d spent here threatened to swamp him, but he shoved the thoughts into a box in the corner of his mind and slammed the lid. He didn’t have time to dwell on the past.

  He extended his arm and stepped aside. “Ladies first.”

  She stomped her boots on the doorstep then crossed the threshold. A few snowflakes rested in her hair, accentuating the golden-red color. He had the urge to brush them away, and his fingers flinched. To stop himself, he formed a fist and placed his hand at his side.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll start the generator. It’s in the shed in the back.”

  She met his gaze, her beautiful green eyes tracking back and forth as she studied him. “All right.”

  He hurried down the stairs and around the cabin. The door to the shed lay open, snow drifting inside. Crap. He pushed through the opening and marched over to the gas generator. The needle on the dial hovered close to the empty line.

  His scalp prickled. No. The generator had to work.

  He pushed the start button. A click echoed through the small space, vying with the wind’s howl. A few feet away, the red, ten-gallon gas can taunted him. He gripped the handle and lifted the container. The can was far too
light. He held up the plastic jug to the diminishing light. Through the thin plastic, he discerned only a sliver of gas remained. Not enough to sustain the generator.

  “Great. Just perfect.” The can slipped from his fingers and landed with a thud.

  Issac shifted his attention out the doorway to the firewood nestled next to the cabin. The tarp covered the cut slices, but he’d at least stacked enough the last time he’d visited. He marched to the pile and seized several pieces before returning to the cabin. As he entered, his gaze riveted on Chloe.

  She stood next to the picture window, staring into the falling snow. Her coat lay across the back of one of the old kitchen chairs along with her backpack, water dripping into tiny pools on the wooden floor. Her boots rested close by.

  She glanced at him, and her brows drew together. “Generator didn’t work?”

  “Out of gas.” He struggled to maintain her gaze and strode to the stack of firewood next to the fireplace, adding the pieces he’d gathered.

  Her soft, muffled footfalls echoed in the quiet. A moment later, she crouched next to him, snatched a few strands of kindling from the pile, and then placed them in the fireplace. Her warm, strawberry scent eased into his senses, rousing his wolf. The urge to pull her to him and kiss her until she mewled her acquiescence burned along his nerves hotter than any fire.

  Tension tightened the muscles in his shoulders and back. He grabbed a couple of medium-sized chunks of wood and stacked them alongside the kindling then snatched the box of matches, struck one, and lit the prepared tinder. Fire licked greedily at the fuel.

  Chloe rose to her feet and rubbed her hands over her thin long-sleeved shirt. He stood, and the cartilage in his knees popped.

  She focused on his cheek, and her brow furrowed. “You’re cut. Let me sterilize that for you.”

  Before he could tell her that wasn’t necessary, that the wound wasn’t a big deal and would heal in a matter of hours, she bolted to her backpack, unclasped the tie, and withdrew a small first aid kit. She flipped open the lid and removed a foil packet.