Hidden Moon (Hot Moon Rising #4) (16 page)

“It just gets better and better.” Or it could, if he stayed.

When the rest of the lake finally came into focus, she realized the party was still going

on without them. But something drew her eyes to the road where several of the pack’s

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vehicles were parked. As if he sensed her sudden unease, Alan glanced in the same

direction.

Two motorcycles pulled up. Tall, burly men dressed in black leather got off and

stalked toward the party. More bikes arrived—a hornet’s nest of throbbing engines that

drowned out the music—and parked farther away.

“I-it’s the Starwood pack,” she said, gasping. “What’s left of it. They must be here for

revenge.”

“Holy orange pulp! They’ve got guns.” He squeezed her hand underwater. “Stay here.

Duck and hold your breath if you have to. Promise?”

She nodded as her heart flopped in her chest like a hooked fish.
Don’t let him die,
she

thought, wishing he’d left before now so he’d be safe. She didn’t want any of them to die.

Her entire pack was here. Starwood must have heard about the party and known their

defenses would be down.

Heaven help them all.

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Shelley clung to the reeds at the side of the lake. The male wolves of Moonlight pack

shifted and circled the invaders. The guns in their hands made it clear they hadn’t come

to talk. Her heart beat so fast she could barely breathe. The urge to shift yanked her

muscles and ached in her bones, but she could navigate water better in human form.

Her focus attached to Alan. First, he pulled his father and Rita to the ground.

Huddling, they shivered under the table. Luckily, the marauders fixed their attention on

someone else. One of them aimed at his belly and tried to bowl him over.

Shelley blinked, unable to believe the festive barbecue had turned into a battlefield.

Music still played in the background. The pig carcass, gruesome looking in the shadows,

still smoked.

Shots fired and Brett went down. He writhed in agony, paws in the air. The sight of

blood spilling on the ground pulled her into a shift she couldn’t control. Her pack

needed her.

She jumped out of the water and stuck to the perimeter of the fighting. When one of

the rival wolves went after Curtis, aiming for his jugular, a million thoughts flew through

her mind. She remembered their relationship, imperfect but a comfort over the years

without Alan.

A hair-raising howl filled the air, and the entire atmosphere seemed to explode as

Alan jumped off one of the tables. At the same moment, one of the thugs aimed a gun at

his chest, but he didn’t look, as if he saw no one but Curtis.

With a feral growl, he locked his jaws into the throat of Curtis’s attacker, bringing him

down. And he didn’t stop there. Whipping his head from side to side, he tore out pieces

of flesh. A pale windpipe, severed and bloody, dangled from the ripped patch of fur.

As soon as the attacker’s jaws released, Curtis rolled under a table. A flash filled the

air as a shot fired. Alan lunged away, but not quite far enough. A red hole bloomed in his

hindquarters as he sailed through the air.

A squeaky grunt spilled from his throat when his legs hit the ground, but he didn’t

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stop. Shelley dodged here and there with her belly low to the ground. She couldn’t keep

her eyes off her mate. As soon as it was safe, she needed to tend to him.

To her surprise, he didn’t stop. With his back left leg practically dangling in its socket,

he lunged toward the man with the gun, knocking him down with both forepaws. The

gun fired once more, safely into the air this time.

Alan’s jaws worked again, making hamburger of that throat, too. She’d never seen

such a vicious killing machine in her life. Prom night had been a tea party compared to

this. She yelped when a club descended on his skull. That didn’t stop him, either.

Bloody spittle clung to his sharp, crooked fangs in long strings. The wild expression in

his brown eyes asked,
Who’s next?
Her heart battered her ribcage. What if he turned on

their pack as well? What if he was so out of control he didn’t know the difference? Her

theory about kinship was about to be put to the biggest test yet.

He didn’t harm any Moonlight members. His heroics gave the rest of their pack an

advantage. Soon, the invaders were surrounded and started retreating to their

motorcycles, leaving several dead behind.

When they were finally gone, Shelley shifted to human so she could tend to the

injured more easily.

“Oh my God!” Barbara cried, her jeans practically ripped to shreds. “If I’d known this

would happen, I would have brought more needle and thread.”

Shelley raced to her mate’s side. He’d resumed human form again, too, gasping and

gripping his bloody thigh. The rest of him bled so much she couldn’t tell where one

wound began and the other ended.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” she cried, raining kisses above his cut lips.

He gazed up at her with chocolate-brown eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than that

to kill me.”

She’d never forget those eyes—hard and opaque when he fixed them on his enemies,

but warm and melted for her.

Curtis shifted to human form and gripped his hand. “Y-you saved my life. Thank

you.”

“Of course I did,” Alan said. “We’re brothers.”

Shelley used a wadded-up napkin to help block the flow of blood from his thigh.

Derek limped over, as patched and bloody as many others.

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“You were amazing, Alan,” he said, squeezing his arm. “The best weapon we’ve got.”

“Hear, hear,” Rand seconded, holding up a fresh beer.

“My theory about kinship was right,” Shelley pointed out. “I’m always right, Derek.

Remember that.”

He laughed. “I will. Tonight proved why each species has mutations. What might not

fit into everyday life is exactly what’s needed in times of crisis.”

“All my life I’ve been trying to fight my instinct with logic.” Alan blinked at the moon.

“I never dreamed being a freak could be a good thing.”

“It’s a really good thing,” Derek agreed, “but I wish we could avoid the violence

between packs. We’re like gangs. We took down their leaders, so they came here for

revenge.”

“Maybe integrating with other packs should be an option,” Shelley suggested.

“Peace sounds good to me, too.” Alan winced. “Bullets hurt.”

Derek gripped his shoulder. “As your Alpha, I’m ordering you to stay and rest for a

few days before you fly home.”

Alan gazed into Shelley’s eyes. “I am home.” Then he raised himself up to his elbows

and looked around. “Where’s Dad?”

She pushed him back down. “Rita walked him to the car. They’re safe.”

Thanks to her amazing mate, they all were and would be for a very long time.

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Two weeks later, Alan parked in the Moonlight Diner parking lot. The sky was dark,

but lights and music from his diner spilled outside. Yes, his. He’d turned in his rental car

and bought a used pickup truck. He wouldn’t earn as much money slinging hash as he

did as a computer programmer, but he had all the riches he needed here. Home.

Near the front door, a woman in a pink satin dress smiled at him. Her silky blonde

hair had never looked more smooth and perfect.

Feeling like a high-school kid again, Alan stopped before her and cleared his throat.

Then he pulled a heavy square of paper from the pocket of the black dress slacks he

wore. What if she played the same joke on him? Impossible. Too much had happened.

“I received this invitation.” He held it out to her. “Did you send it?”

“I did,” she replied, love gleaming in her hazel eyes.

“Then these are for you.” He handed her a bouquet filled with orange blossoms.

Rita had helped him with it. Dad had even sprayed him down with enough cologne to

kill a skunk. Everyone seemed determined to give him the perfect evening.

Shelley buried her nose in the flowers, inhaled, and sighed. His pants tightened below

the belt. He’d never get tired of hearing her earthy sounds of pleasure.

“Shall we?” she asked, opening the door.

When they stepped inside, the lights dimmed. The tables were pushed near the walls

and covered with white tablecloths and sparkly centerpieces. Streamers hung suspended

from the ceiling fans. Some of the pack members, musical instruments in hand, stood on

a makeshift stage near the kitchen door. The rest of them, dressed in formal attire, sat at

the tables.

She drew him to the center of the room, placed one of his hands on her waist, and

clasped his other one. The band launched into a romantic song popular in their high-

school days. He’d come a long way from being the class freak.

“May I have this dance?” she asked.

“You may, and a whole lot more.” He pressed his palm into the small of her back,

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showing the world she was his.

Their bodies clung together, rotating across the floor. He inhaled her orange scent,

her beauty, and her love. New memories painted over the painful ones from high school.

She ran her fingers across his bare scalp, sending delicious shivers down his legs. “No

bandana tonight?”

“Not tonight,” he said, grinning at her. “Didn’t seem dressy enough.”

“Darn. I was looking forward to taking it off.”

He ran his lips across her earlobe, nipping and teasing. “I have plenty of other things

you can take off later.”

“Promise?”

“Seriously, though. Thank you for this. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll stay,” she whispered. “Forever.”

He pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I took over the diner, didn’t I?”

“I know, but part of me is afraid something will happen and you’ll leave again.”

“Nothing is going to happen, Shelley,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “The

next time we dance will be at our wedding.”

She stopped dancing. “I-is that a proposal?”

“You’re the psychic,” he said, flashing a grin at her. “You tell me.”

“Yes, Alan.” Her eyes glowed with unshed tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Everyone clapped, which sounded better to him than the music. He held her closer,

pulling them back into the slow, romantic beat.

“I expect my wife to hand feed me an orange every day,” he said.

“I thought you hated oranges.”

“I don’t hate anything anymore,” he said quietly. “And I love oranges now. Almost as

much as I love you.”

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Hot Moon Rising Book 1

Wolf Moon by Desiree Holt

The rain always depressed Alexa Martin, underscoring the isolation she lived with.

Scant moments ago, she’d returned from running through the trees behind her house.

Concealed by the darkness, she’d given in to the urge she’d been suppressing for two

days. Now, in a fleece robe, with a towel wrapped around her head, she sat curled up on

the window seat in her living room. Thick drops of liquid ran down the glass like tiny

waterfalls. If only there was a way she could wash away the problems in her life and

make it clean and free again.

Why did I think everything would be fine when I moved to Florida? Running from

our clan’s alpha really didn’t change anything except to put distance between me and

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everything I’ve ever known.

“You know I cannot allow your relationship with a human,” the alpha had told her in

his forbidding voice. “He will turn on you when he knows the truth. Worse yet, he could

expose you and the rest of us. Is that what you want?”

He was right, damn him.

She had deliberately shape-shifted in front of Ray, hoping for acceptance, but she’d

seen nothing but horror in his eyes.

“What are you?” Disgust had filled his voice. “Some kind of freak? No, get away from

me,” he’d shouted when she moved toward him. “Do not touch me.”

“You should have listened to your elders,” the alpha told her afterward. “I have no

objection to marriage, but only with our own kind. We must perpetuate our clan. Lance

is ready and waiting to make you his wife.”

“I will never marry Lance, old man,” she told him with vehemence. “He may be

handsome and powerful, but he is well-known for his cruelty.”

So, she ran as far as she could, tucking away in a hidden corner of the universe where