Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon (5 page)

“Why do I get the feeling you're going to try and take over my life?” she asked suspiciously from the bed.

He laughed, a soft sound in the open air of the loft.

“Because I am,” he said, leaning over to steal a kiss.

She leveled a steady gaze at him.

“What is it?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“You have too many secrets to just barge in and try to take over."

He studied her a minute. “We'll talk about those later. I'll go start dinner while you get dressed."

* * * *

She took her time, for once fussing with her appearance. At some point through the night, she'd welcomed Darius into her life. The thought occupied her while she primped, both surprised and bemused at the effort.

It worried her as much as it amused her. He was dangerous, a definite threat to her independence, but for the first time in years she felt safe and cherished. Her parents had retired to Florida years ago and it was sort of nice to be babied a little. The urge to lean into Darius and let him take over was irresistible.

Her eyes widened at the revelation. This was not normal for her. This was some crazy hormonal imbalance she had been struck with all of a sudden. She didn't do relationships. So why was the idea so tempting?

She sighed and rubbed the mark on the back of her shoulder again. All night her fingers had been drawn to it. The mark of his possession. Her traitorous body was all for that. Moving to the closet, she dragged out a clean pair of jeans and opted for a baggy T-shirt. Maybe if she hid her assets, she could strike up a real conversation with him.

Say, on werewolves. She remembered her grandmother's romantic tales of the creatures and wondered about their reality. Grandma Tinnie's wolf stories were always ‘star-crossed lovers live happily ever after’ affairs. She grinned, thinking about Darius and sex and how heavily those stories must have been edited.

Dinner was on the bar when she came down and she picked at her food in silence.

“If you aren't going to eat that, stop mutilating it and hand it over."

She looked up to see Darius scowling at her while she pushed a piece of steak around on her plate.

“Take it,” she sighed, handing it over. “Guess I'm not that hungry after all."

“You have to eat,” he said exasperation plain in his voice. “Here. Try this,” he said, popping a small bite of steak in her mouth.

Her eyes widened as she chewed. A man feeding her dinner—literally. This was a first.

“Why did you do that?"

He smiled. “You've lost weight since I first met you. I like my women with a little meat on their bones."

Oh really
. Anger and jealousy knotted her stomach.

“Your
women
?” she asked. “I've got news for you, buddy. There can be only one. I do not share.
Ever
."

His grin could only be described as triumphant and too late she sensed the trap closing over her head.

“You've decided to keep me around, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Just remember that's a two way street, sweetheart. I don't share either."

He fed her another piece of steak and she sat back, confused. Most men would have run from the house screaming at her possessive outburst. He seemed to relish it.

“What's going on here?” she asked. “I don't invite strange men into my house and fuck them in my bathroom."

“I should hope not. I might have to kill someone,” he said quietly. She sucked in a hard breath at the certainty in his voice, and met his steady blue gaze.

“That would be bad,” she muttered.

He laughed. “Yes, it would."

Taking her hand, he led her to the couch and handed her a box from the coffee table. She settled back against the cushions and he draped an arm across her shoulders. A smile spread across her face as she opened the box and pulled out the wolf, beginning to understand why it appealed to her so much.

“You don't miss much, do you?” she asked. “It reminded me of you when I saw it."

“Me?” he asked, a surprised note in his voice.

“Yeah. Regal and strong and lonely."

“You think I'm lonely?” he asked, a smile giving the corners of his eyes a sexy crinkle.

Tilting her head back to look at him, she considered her answer.

“Maybe
solitary
would be a better word, which is kind of funny because I usually see you with a crowd of people,” she shrugged. “You still seem alone to me."

He looked at her strangely.

“What? Did I grow horns?” she teased.

He chuckled. “Most people don't see what you see. A lot of people depend on me. They always say it's lonely at the top, right?” he joked. “Besides, I'm not alone. I have you."

For now at least
. He didn't strike her as the type of man who might be tied down for long. The pain in the vicinity of heart at that thought was sharp and surprising. She could get used to having him around. Learn to crave him, need him, like she already wanted his body.

They rehashed local gossip, growing accustomed to each other's company, before the attacks came up.

“You have to promise me you'll be careful until they catch this animal,” he said, tightening his arm around her.

“I don't wander around in the woods by myself, so I'm thinking I'm safe,” she said lightly. “It's strange, though. There haven't been wolves in this area in decades."

She paused, wondering how to bring up werewolves without sounding insane. What if she was wrong?

“Stranger things have happened,” he shrugged. “Just promise me you'll be careful."

“Sure. Some of my regulars were speculating about it tonight. They came up with some wild ideas.” She took a steadying breath.
Just say it already, Meg
. “One of them said it's a werewolf."

He grew still. Bingo.

Exhaling slowly, he asked, “What do you think?"

With her head resting on his chest, she heard his heart kick up a beat as he waited for her answer.

“My grandmother was an honest to God witch, you know. More of a witch than me. Better than me,” she said ignoring his question. “She used to tell me all kinds of stories, said there were werewolves here when she was a child.” She paused. “She believed in them. The world is a strange place. I'm not exactly normal myself."

She cradled the carved wolf in her hand and waited for him to answer. Long after Darius was gone from her life, it would remind her of him. She knew with a certainty she couldn't begin to explain that he was a wolf. The question was how much of it he was going to share with her.

“You realize people would think you were crazy if you let on you believe those old myths?"

She stiffened in his arms and he tried to sooth her, rubbing circles on her arm. Maybe she wrong. She stood and paced across the room. She'd spent her entire life proving to this town she was a good witch, steady and dependable, and he to go throw the word crazy around.

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically.

Chapter Five

What the hell is going on here
?

He shoved a hand through his short hair. Was she trying to draw him out? His mate couldn't betray him, could she? He wouldn't believe it. The ties between them were too strong.

He watched her pace the room, agitation clear in every step, and was struck by his need for this woman and how natural that seemed. He liked women, but had never wanted to keep one around. He'd certainly never wanted to share his life with one.

She looked at him sharply. “Well, maybe I never wanted to share my life with a man either. Especially with a bossy, arrogant, overbearing one. Feel free to leave any time,” she snapped.

Stunned she had read his thoughts, he bolted up, stopped her in her tracks and grabbed her by the shoulders. “What did you say?"

“You were thinking you didn't want me in your life. Pay attention, Darius. You've been in town long enough to hear the gossip about me. I. Am. A. Witch. I told you I know things. Sometimes I catch people's thoughts. Sometimes I know what they're feeling, especially if it's strong emotion. That's why I live way out here in the woods. For the buffer."

He pulled her back to the couch and onto his lap, tightening his arms around her so she couldn't escape. Closing his eyes against the pain underlying her anger, he tried to imagine what things were like for her. How difficult would that be as a child? Picking up the thoughts and feelings of the people around you?

“What do you know about the wolf?"

She made an exasperated sound. “Why ask if you aren't going to tell me?"

He gave her his pack leader tell-me-now look, and she giggled.

“That works on most people, doesn't it?” she asked. Arching a brow she said, “I'm not afraid of you. It won't work on me."

“You're an impertinent little imp, aren't you?” he said amazed she was trying to defy him. “I won't like it much, but I will turn you over my knee."

She gasped in outrage. “You wouldn't dare!"

“Wanna make a wager on that, sweetheart?"

He gave her a minute to realize he was serious.

“Tell me what you know about the wolf,” he demanded.

Sighing, she tried to stand up, but he tightened his arms around her. She felt too good to let go.

She shrugged and relaxed into him.

“There are werewolves here. I'm not sure how many, but several. I don't think they normally do this kind of thing though.” She added dryly, “My grandmother's stories were about lovers, not maulings."

She's a gift
. He closed his eyes.
I must have done something right in a past life.
Of course, just because she believed the werewolves existed didn't mean she would want to be bound to one. But it certainly seemed as if her grandmother had paved the way for him.

“They aren't myth,” he said in a low voice.

“I knew that,” she said with irritation, looking at him through lowered lashes.

He couldn't resist leaning down to nibble on her pouting lower lip. Once there he had to taste her again and the fire built within his veins. He'd never get enough of this woman.

“I don't deserve you,” he whispered.

“Well, of course not,” she grinned with a saucy toss of her hair.

“I'm one of them,” he said seriously, holding her gaze.

She nodded. “I know."

“How?"

She shrugged. “They were joking about at the bar, and it just made sense. It felt right. I can't explain how it works."

She squinted at the clock in the kitchen, and tried to move off his lap.

“It's getting late,” she said. “You should probably be going."

He felt a wrenching in his gut. She couldn't reject him now.

“I'm staying right here,” he said more sharply than he'd intended, but he released her. She stood up and backed away.

“Look. I don't want to get too attached to you. You won't
stay
,” she emphasized.

“Is that something else you just know?"

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I do. You've had lots of women. None of them last long.” She took a deep breath. “That's okay. I'm not good at relationships either. We should just get this ... thing between us...” She waved her hand, “...out of our systems and move on."

Anger and possessiveness pumped through him. She would not dismiss him—them—so easily. Letting his intention show on his face, he stalked her through the open room as she backpedaled, trying to find a safe place to make a stand.

Finally backed into a corner, she met his gaze as he took her chin in one hand and forced her to look at him.

“We will not get this
out of our systems
,” he said, enunciating each word with care. “You are my mate. I will never let another man touch you. I will never let you go.” Even the thought filled him with rage.

Her eyes widened.

“Wow. You're serious about this, huh?"

“Deadly."

“I need a chance to adjust,” she said weakly. “Some space to think would be nice."

“You're not getting much,” he said roughly, every instinct in him clamoring to tie her to him physically, if necessary. He released her and walked to the sliding glass doors, taking off his shirt as he went.

“What are you doing?"

“You need space,” he said sarcastically, unbuttoning his jeans. “And I need to run off my temper."

He felt her eyes on his back as he removed his shoes and peeled off his jeans. Breathing deeply, he took the scent of the forest into his lungs before turning back to see frank admiration in her eyes.

“Don't look at me like that,” he warned.

“No, of course not,” she said, her gaze still drinking him in. He felt it like a touch on his skin.

He shook his head, trying to remember her need for space. He'd give her space all right. Space in bed next to him.

“Keep the doors locked. Let me have a key so I can get back in."

“There's one under the box of chlorine out there, by the hot tub."

“Ok,” he nodded. “Lock this door, and don't let anyone else in. I won't be long."

She leaned against the doorframe and he realized she wanted to see him shift. She wasn't the least bit afraid of him. With a surge of joy, he stepped back and reached for the wolf.

In amazement, she watched the impossible—a grown man transforming himself into a wolf. First his legs contorted and changed. Then his torso, his arms, and his head. Finally, although she knew it had taken only seconds, he stood before her as a lone gray wolf. She felt a moment of rightness.
My wolf.

On light feet, the wolf approached and butted her hand. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands buried themselves in the soft thick fur behind his ears, and she found herself on her knees looking into its eyes.
His
eyes, she reminded herself. Darius’ eyes.

“Darius,” she said, not hiding the wonder in her voice. The wolf grinned and nipped at her, licking her face playfully while she laughed. He was like an overgrown puppy. After a few minutes, he nudged her toward the door a bit more forcefully than necessary.

“Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “I get it."

Under the watchful gaze of the wolf, she pulled the glass shut, and then flipped the lever to the locked position. He seemed to nod goodbye before taking three long steps and bounding off the deck to disappear into the night.