Alpha's Moon E-Book

Rose Renee

• Herausgeber: Midnight Romance
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

My alpha ordered me to keep away from humans. 
My wolf is highly unstable. Nearly feral. I can’t be trusted around civilians. 
Certainly not with the lovely kindergarten teacher whose scent drives me wild.
But she needs a fake boyfriend for a weekend wedding trip. A big guy to intimidate her ex. 
How can I refuse?
I won’t be directly disobeying an order, because it won’t be a real date. 
It will be a nice, clean mission. We’ll have separate rooms.
I’ll keep my wolf on a tight leash.
And no matter how much I want to, I will not mark and claim the sweet human as mine…

Leseprobe

Alpha’s Moon

Renee Rose

Lee Savino

Copyright © February 2021 Alpha’s Moon by Renee Rose and Lee Savino

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Published in the United States of America

Midnight Romance, LLC

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

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Chapter 1

Puerto Rico

Deke

The Puerto Rican jungle is thick and humid. At night, the song of the coquí frogs chorus echo all around the stifling darkness. I creep silently over the rotting leaves on the rainforest floor, slinking into position. Channing’s already there on his belly, squinting through the sight of his sniper rifle.

“We got two guards on deck,” Channing whispers.

With our shifter hearing, we don't need comms units to hear each other. Nor do I need night vision goggles. That’s the reason Colonel Johnson created a special ops team composed entirely of shifters. He’s one of us. He knew how much we‘d be capable of when our abilities didn’t have to be hidden from our human counterparts.

A quick glance, and I clearly see the outline of two cartel members standing in front of the shack’s open door frame. Each of them hold machine guns.

“What do you think—hostage inside?” Channing murmurs. “Tied, gagged?”

“Gagged. Tied with rope.” That’s my guess, anyway.

“Don’t see any dogs,” Channing says. “So we wait for Rafe’s signal.”

I nod and strip out of my outer clothes, including dog tags. Colonel Johnson had special camo underclothing designed for us. The fabric is stretchy and flexible enough to accommodate both human and wolf form. I guess the army higher ups thought having our ding-dongs hanging out after we shifted back would make us feel vulnerable. Like we give a shit who sees us naked.

I shift, but try to maintain some control, to hold back my wolf. He’s antsy to get on with the hunt. The sad truth is that after years of war conditioning, he’s always ready for the kill, especially when there’s a civilian rescue involved. The need to protect sometimes overwhelms reason.

The signal is a long blast on a dog whistle, a sound no human can hear. When it comes, Channing and I dart forward. As a wolf, I’m faster, and I race ahead.

We're almost there when I pick up a rumbling sound up the road. Trouble coming in the form of an old diesel truck. Fuck! More kidnappers showing up to help stand guard.

My ears prick at the ear splitting sound of the dog whistle. Two short blasts this time—Rafe telling us to get out.

I try to turn back. To follow orders. The part of me that still knows chain of command fights for control.

But my wolf isn’t having it.

It’s too late—I smell the package. The frightened human who’s perhaps given up on being rescued.

It’s wrong to disobey a command. We may not be Special Ops any more, but wolves also follow their leader, and Rafe is our alpha. Still, I can’t stop my wolf. He needs to save the human. I bound forward, paws eating up ground as I head toward the shack.

“Abort mission,” Channing growls, but I'm too far gone. I leap, a silent shadow, onto the wooden platform.

The first guard dies almost silently. His body thumps to the deck. The other guard whirls, fingers scrambling for the trigger of his machine gun when two hundred plus pounds of wolf lands on him. He goes down, and I silence him with my teeth.

Permanently.

I hear shots and raise my head. My muzzle is slick, and there’s blood in my mouth. On the other side of the shack, our team attacks the diesel truck. I forced them into this by not following orders. It’s the only option now.

A few more shots, a growl from Lance’s wolf, and the sound of screams drowns out the chorus of coquí frogs for a moment. Then the truck engine cuts off, and there’s silence.

“Goddammit, Deke!” Channing whisper-shouts. He’s still in human form, slinking up to the deck with his rifle outstretched. “You were supposed to follow orders.”

My wolf bares his teeth at him.

“Fucking loco,” Channing mutters as he brushes by me. He follows proper protocol, casing each dark corner before entering the shack. A few seconds later, he starts talking in a low, soothing voice to the hostage.

I’m glad he can because I would scare the hell out of her.

I growl and turn away, my nose to the ground, making sure all threats have been eliminated.

Gangsters: dead. Hostage: rescued. Mission accomplished. The only problem? The action was over in less than ninety seconds. My wolf wants more.

I lope off the deck and around the shack to the diesel truck. There’s blood spattered on the cab and two gang members dead—one in the front seat, one a few feet from the passenger door.

Lance stands nearby, disassembling the target’s semi-automatics. He’s in his camo underclothing from shifting. His dog tags glint on his bare chest—he didn't have time to remove them before shifting.

“Fuck, Deke,” he greets me. “I ruined a good pair of khakis for you.” He wrenches the metal gun pieces apart and drops them into an open bag at his feet.

I make myself useful, loping back up the hill to Lance’s stakeout spot to retrieve his pack. We keep an extra change of clothes for this contingency. Lance hadn’t expected to shift, but to finish the mission, my wolf’s defiance forced him to. My pack brothers always have my back no matter what.

“Thanks,” Lance grunts when I return. He dresses quickly.

“Let’s move out. Channing’s already gone with the package.” The package being the hostage. The one we, as mercenaries, were just paid a sizable amount of money to retrieve for someone high up in our government who didn’t want to risk an active military team on this job. “Rendezvous at HQ.”

A crackle in the brush behind me announces the arrival of my alpha.

“What the hell was that, soldier?” Rafe growls at me even though we’re no longer technically soldiers.

I duck my head in contrition.

“I think it went well, Sarge,” Lance says mildly before tugging on his shirt.

“No one fucking asked you.” Rafe points up the hill. “Move out, now.”

Lance shrugs on his pack and obeys.

Rafe points to me. “We’re going to talk about this,” he promises.

Four hours later, we’re back at HQ, an empty airplane hangar. Soon a tiny charter plane will show up to secret us back home. Lance helped me hose off the blood—my wolf was reluctant to remove all traces of its kills. I went for a run first, trying to rid myself of the pent-up energy, waiting until the last possible minute to shift.

Channing arrives at HQ last and doesn’t bother with the hose. He sticks his head in a bucket of water and then uses a rag to wipe off his face paint. “The package was delivered safely,” he announces. “All’s well that ends well.”

“Not so fucking fast.” Rafe marches back into the hangar from the outside, where he was taking a call from command. “We’ve got a problem.” My alpha rounds on me and points. “Your wolf is out of control, Deke.” He’s not wrong. I disobeyed a direct order.

“Yes, Sergeant.” My voice is gravely, guttural, as if my throat is unused to human words. We still call Rafe Sarge even though we’re no longer in the Army.

“Did you have orders to kill, Deke?”

A sick feeling roils in my belly. This is why Rafe decided we needed to get out of the service last year. Every hunt, I was becoming more feral. We all were. Rafe said we had to leave before we all lost our humanity and needed to be put down.

“In Deke’s defense, he only killed the Tangos,” Channing offers.

Rafe bares his teeth at Channing, who ducks his head and puts up his hands in surrender.

“We didn’t have kill orders,” Rafe growls.

“Colonel Johnson wouldn’t contract us if he didn’t expect a body count,” Lance counters.

“That’s only because Deke’s out of control,” Rafe shouts.

The weight on my chest increases.

Fuck.

Rafe paces, his boots striking the concrete floor in a staccato beat. Rafe can glide silently if he wants to. He’s making noise now to make a point. I brace myself for it.

It comes all too soon. Rafe stops in front of me and blows on the dog whistle. I stand at attention, fighting not to cringe at the high pitched sound. Channing and Lance snap their hands over their ears.

“What does that mean, soldier?” Rafe barks at me.

“All systems go, sir!” I shout back.

Rafe blows the dog whistle again, two short blasts. “And that?”

“Abort mission, sir!”

Rafe gets right in my face, yellow eyes fixed on mine. I stare off in the distance, fighting my wolf’s restless urge to break position and attack.

This is a test. If I break position and challenge my alpha, it’s a sign I’m way too far gone. Something my pack has been worried about for a couple years now.

I have to pass this test.

I force myself to think of puppies. Innocent toddlers. Human females—that’s a new thought, but for some reason it comes to mind. Like I might reward myself for passing this test by seeking out pleasure.

As if.

My team won’t let me near humans. Not after that bar fight last year. My wolf is way too aggressive and unpredictable. Too bloodthirsty.

But the thought of fragile creatures is enough. My wolf relaxes.

My alpha stands inches away. He senses the change in my body and nods. But he doesn’t let me off the hook.

“Discipline, soldier,” Rafe growls right in my ringing ear. “It’s all that stands between us and moon madness.”

I unclench my jaw. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 2

Sadie

Sadie, are you heading to the plaza? I’ll be there too. Let’s catch up after your girls’ night.The text beeps through on my phone and makes my stomach twist into a dense knot. The message may sound friendly, but it registers in my body as an assault.

I am so done with Scott Sears and his attempts to win me back.

What part of “it’s over” did he not get?

I roll my eyes and shove my phone back in my purse, shifting my ridiculous but precious package back under my arm as I duck through the crowded Taos restaurant after work.

It’s dinner time on a school night, and while most nights I’d rather go home and chill after teaching kindergarteners all day, it’s Wednesday.

Whine Wednesday, as me and my girl posse like to call it, and Whine Wednesdays are sacred.

“Sadie, over here.” Adele waves from her seat at a table on the patio. The knotted muscles in my neck relax a hair when I see her and the rest of my friends. Tabitha and Charlie slouch in their chairs but sit up a little straighter when they see me. Adele remains sitting with her back ramrod straight.

My friends are the best. We’re all different, but it works.

Adele’s the polished, always-put-together Creole beauty who owns the local chocolate shop. She’s our mother hen, and always looks perfect in her vintage clothes. Tonight she’s in a 1950s style swing dress, the moss green color perfectly complementing her golden brown skin and green eyes. Instead of a jacket, she wears a shawl in taupe with gold thread. She’s the fancy one in the group, and she owns it.

Tabitha often wears vintage clothes too, either from the 1920s or 60s and 70s. Somehow she pulls off a sequined flapper dress one day, giant bell bottoms the next. Today she lounges loose-limbed in her chair with a beaded headband and a yellow jumpsuit. Another one of her Cher outfits, and she looks the part with her olive skin and narrow face.

Charlie is Charlie. She’s the shortest of us and the most fit. Most of the time, I see her in a blue button down shirt and sturdy navy shorts or pants—her post mistress outfit. Her job gives her a perpetual tan that matches her short blond hair. Right now she’s wearing a faded t-shirt that reads “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

And me, I’m just Sadie Diaz, Taos native. Kindergarten teacher, brown eyes, brown hair. Average height, average weight, average everything. Tabitha tells me I dress like a kindergarten teacher, whatever that means. The kids love my kitty earrings and brightly colored ballet flats.

“Glad you made it,” Charlie smiles at me. She’s already got a margarita in front of her, and I try not to look too jealous.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say and swing my bag off my shoulder. “I had to pick up a package.”

Tabitha grimaces at the black toy box I set on the restaurant table. “What the hell is that?” Her voice is loud enough to make several fellow restaurant goers swivel their heads to our table, but she doesn’t care. She leans back, nose wrinkled as she regards the toy.

I get why she’s making a face. The stuffed toy inside is a cross between a demon and a jackrabbit, with red eyes, antlers and fangs.

“It’s a jackalope,” I say, my tone apologetic. All three of my best friends lean in to inspect the toy box.

“Oh I’ve heard of these.” Charlie picks up the box and wrinkles her nose as she reads the back print. “It’s the hottest toy this year. Sold out in most states.”

“I ordered mine nine months ago,” I admit. “The kids in my class can’t stop talking about it. There are parents willing to commit murder to get one for their kids. That’s why I have it here. It just came in, and I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

“How does this work? Oh yes.” Charlie pushes a red button marked, Try me! on the clear plastic, and creepy laughter echoes from the box. The monstrous toy shakes, and its red eyes flash. “Don’t you want to play?” it mocks in a voice straight from Poltergeist.

“Holy shit!” Tabitha chokes. “What the hell?”

“Oh, hell no.” Adele shakes her head, so her soft brown curls bounce around her face as she holds up a hand. “That is too creepy.” She shivers and tugs her shawl around her. With the sun going down, it’s getting cool.

“It is creepy.” I examine the toy more closely. “The first time I pressed the button, I almost dropped the box. And I knew it did that.”

“Press it again,” Tabitha says with a wicked grin. Adele rolls her eyes.

“You sure?” Charlie hovers her thumb over the button.

“Do it,” Tabitha has a maniacal look not unlike the demon jackalope.

Gritting her teeth, Charlie pushes it. “Don’t you want to play?” a sinister voice whispers from the toy box.

“Oh!” Adele and Tabitha both cry. “Put it away,” Adele orders. Tabitha looks like she wants to push the button again.

“Shit,” Charlie says emphatically and places the box at arm’s length away from her on the table. “Kids really like to play with this stuff?”

I shrug.

“Kids these days,” Adele says, straightening her silverware beside the empty place where her plate will go for the fifth time. “Way more into scary stuff than I ever was.”

“At least it’s not baby Cthulhu. Those were super in last year,” I say. The waitress bustles up with her tray full of our drinks, and I take the toy and carefully set the box back in my bag.

“So you got one for your class?” Adele asks.

“Yeah. Only one, so they’ll have to share.”

“You are the nicest kindergarten teacher ever.” Tabitha salutes me with her strawberry margarita. “And that’s saying something. That bar is high.”

“To Sweet Sadie,” Charlie raises her Fat Tire in toast.

“Sadie,” Tabitha and Adele join in, raising their glasses.

I flush and sip my mango margarita with them. My friends are the best thing in my life right now. I love them like sisters, even though we couldn’t be more different.

“You didn’t want a margarita?” Tabitha asks Adele.

“No,” Adele sniffs and swirls her red wine in the glass.

“They’re really good,” Tabitha singsongs and flips her long, straight red hair over her shoulder.

“No thank you.” Adele tips the glass, closing her eyes and swirling her wine to inhale the bouquet.

“Snob,” Tabitha mocks gently.

“Leave her alone.” Charlie’s voice is a little loud, but it’s not the alcohol talking. Charlie just likes to be loud. She balances her chair on its back two legs for a second then lets it fall to all fours with a thud. “Someone should be drinking wine,” she pronounces. “It is Wine Wednesday.”

“You mean Whine Wednesday,” Tabitha corrects. “We agreed when we started this tradition we don’t actually have to drink wine, we just have to whine. So who’s going first?”

“Sadie.” Adele’s green eyes pierce me over her wine glass. She sees everything, and she’s our unofficial mother hen.

“Sadie? Everything all right?” Tabitha asks.

“Who do I have to kill?” Charlie adds and plants her elbows on the table. “Is it Scott? I will fuck him up.” She means it too.

“Everything’s fine.” I sigh and set down my margarita.

“Nope, come on, spill.” Tabitha waves her fingers in a come hither motion. “What’s Scott up to now?”

“Are you guys back together?” Charlie’s brow furrows. “I thought after... The Incident…”

“The Incident? Is that what we’re calling cheating now?” Tabitha runs her finger around the rim of her margarita, collecting the salt.

“We’re still broken up,” I say. “But he wants me back. He just texted again, asking if we could meet tonight.”

“Seriously? He cheated on you!” Both Charlie and Tabitha explode.

“Shhh.” Adele lifts a hand. “Calm down, Sadie’s talking.”

“Thanks.” I give her a small smile. “We’re not getting back together. I told him no, but he’s being really persistent.” I glance down at my phone in my bag. I turned it off after that last text to get some peace. At any given moment, I could have several missed calls and unread texts from Scott.

“Persistent how?” Tabitha asks, her eyes narrowed.

“Texts, phone calls,” I tell my friends. “Gifts. He sent flowers, chocolates.”

“Did he get the chocolates from The Chocolatier?” Charlie asks Adele.

Adele shakes her head, still looking at me. “No. He knows if he comes into my store, I’ll roast him alive.” She says it delicately, but I have no doubt in a run-in between Scott and Adele, Adele would win.

“Okay, so Scott brought you subpar chocolate,” Tabitha says, emphasizing subpar as if this is the most egregious sin. And in our group, it is egregious. “Then what?”

“He just won’t stop reaching out. The other day, he and my dad were outside the school. Scott said it was for a development meeting, but I think he planned it right when I would take my kids out for recess.”

“Gross,” Charlie says.

“That is just like Scott. So shady. Why doesn’t your dad see it?” Tabitha fretts.

“Because Sadie’s dad is the same,” Adele says firmly. “Birds of a feather.” She looks me right in the eye and raises a slim brown brow.

I keep silent because she’s right. My dad loves Scott and his development ideas way more than I ever did. He has our marriage all planned, so then, the two of them can take over all the real estate in the area. Adele is right. Scott is a carbon copy of my dad.

“You’re going to resist, right?” Tabitha bites her lip. “You won’t take him back?”

“No.” I have no intention of letting Scott in ever again. “But he won’t stop. You know he won’t just take no for an answer.”

“Gross,” Charlie says again and drains her beer. The rest of us finish our drinks too, and when the waitress comes by, we all order another with our food.

“Can we help?” Tabitha asks once the waitress is gone. “Maybe we can talk to him.”

“No, don't do that. Knowing Scott, it’ll make things worse. He’s just used to getting what he wants.”

“You can’t trust these real estate developer types,” Charlie says around a mouthful of tortilla chips. “So pushy. They make deals all day and then come home and think that’s the only way to relate to another person.”

Tabitha agrees, and she and Charlie launch into one of the Taoseños’ favorite topics: the evil real estate developer.

“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Adele says quietly to me.

“It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. I don't want my crappy relationship stuff to ruin our night out.”

Adele squeezes my hand but doesn’t say anything

Fortunately, I’m saved by the roar of motorcycles across the plaza. Four big bikes manned by giant bikers roll up to the plaza and stop in an alleyway next to the pedestrian only area.

“Oh jeez,” Tabitha groans. “More Easy Rider fans recreating their journey through the Southwest.” Ever since the iconic sixties film, bikers have made Taos part of their pilgrimage. That’s in addition to the huge annual biker rally up in Red River over Memorial Day that brings over 20,000 bikers to the area.

Something about these guys is different, though. They don’t look like Easy Rider hippie types. Nor do they have the long beards or hair that goes with some biker gangs. These guys are huge and fit. Broad shoulders and barrel chests. Thick, muscled thighs.

Oh God, am I looking at their thighs?

We fall silent as they dismount and file past the restaurant window. They are covered in leather and tattoos, like you’d expect, and all of them wear aviator shades.

“Damn,” Tabitha murmurs, slouching lower in her chair.

“Yikes. I’ll bet if you brush up against one of those guys, you’ll get testosterone poisoning,” Charlie sniffs. The four bikers pause right in front of the restaurant patio. They stand in a badass cluster, talking.

One of them isn’t wearing a leather jacket, just a black leather vest that leaves his arms bare. When he pulls off his aviator shades, his biceps bulge, practically as big as a basketball. The tattoo on his arm—a black wolf under a full moon—ripples, and the muscles in my lower belly clench, hard.

The biker who just removed his sunglasses swivels his head slowly in our direction. He’s got dark hair buzzed into a crew cut, leaving nothing to mar the masculine lines of his face. Wowza. His coffee-dark eyes flash weirdly in the dusky light. A jolt runs through my limbs. He’s looking straight at me.

My hand, of its own volition, rises into the air.

“Sadie!” Tabitha whisper-shouts. “What are you doing?”

I honestly don’t know. I can’t seem to look away from the guy, who is about as much my type as the lamppost behind him. Still, I give a little wave. The biker jerks up his chin in salute. A shock of electricity runs through me, tip to toe, like I've been struck by a mini bolt of lightning. The man’s perfect lips twitch into the hint of a smirk, and he turns back to his buddies.

The biker guys finish their conversation and stride away. Their heavy boots make no sound on the stones, but the air of the square seems to crackle. The dark haired biker looks back, right at me, and winks. Another zap, and my heart trips over itself.

“Wait… did that guy just wink at you?” Adele exclaims.

I laugh. “Yes, I believe he did.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Tabitha groans.

“Those guys are scary,” Charlie jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I muse. “I thought he was kinda hot.” Scott was tall and handsome, and prided himself on his gym made muscles. But stand Scott next to that dark haired biker, and my ex would look like a bobble head toy.

My friends’ mouths drop at my admission, and then we all dissolve into girlish laughter.

I look out the window to see where they went.

“Who are those motorcycle guys?” Tabitha asks the waitress when she comes with our food.

The woman shrugs. “I see them around here from time to time. Sometimes on their bikes, sometimes in one of those army looking trucks.”

“Seriously? A Humvee?” Charlie’s eyebrows climb. She knows cars.

“Is a Humvee like a Hummer?” Tabitha asks.

“No, it’s a military vehicle,” Charlie answers. “Not all of them are road legal. Are those guys former military?”

“I don't ask, honey,” the waitress says. “I keep my mouth shut and look my fill.”

“See,” I point out. “She thinks they’re hot, too.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t hot,” Tabitha mumbles, taking a drink of water.

“Do they ever eat here?” Adele asks. Her water glass is half full, and she’s still clutching it.

“No, they don’t stick around long. When they’re not on their bikes, they load up on supplies and head out,” the waitress says.

Charlie taps her lips. “I thought they looked more military than biker gang. The way they stood, you know? Shoulders back and chests up. And their buzzcuts.”

“I was just looking at the one with the wolf and moon tattoo,” I confess.

“They all had wolf and moon tattoos,” Adele says.

“Really?” Tabitha squints at Adele.

“Yes.” Adele doesn’t say anything further.

“Can you imagine Sadie showing up with a guy like that as her new boyfriend? Scott would shit a brick,” Charlie says.

“So would her dad,” Tabitha agrees.

Adele chokes on her laugh. “Oh god, that would be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on Scott’s face?”

It’s my turn to grab my water and drink deeply. I can just imagine Scott’s face if he saw me next to a biker man like that. He’d throw a fit. But I don't want to think about Scott. What would it be like to date a guy like the biker? Would he be great in bed? Assuming he’d look twice at me. That kind of guy, those muscles, bare and sleek spread out on my comforter…

A flush spreads over my face. I clutch my empty water glass. There’s not enough water in the world to quench this desire.

“I was just kidding,” Charlie says with an alarmed look my way. Like she’s guessed at my thoughts. How far I’ve run down the road of trying on that giant man as a partner. “I was totally kidding. Those guys definitely aren’t safe.”

“If they’re military, they’re probably a lot safer than a biker gang,” I reason.

Charlie shakes her head. “Even if they are, they’re trouble. I would never date a military guy. They are man-whores and adrenaline junkies. Definitely not boyfriend material. Especially not for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“No, nothing. Just that you’re sweet, Sadie. I only suggested it to be funny. I figured you’d never, ever date a guy who looked like them.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Well, you never know.”

My friends all give me sharp glances, and I wink to make them laugh again, but something rebellious and bold has taken root inside me.

I sort of love the idea of shocking every resident in this small town who thinks they know me by hanging around a big, bad biker.

But Charlie’s right. That’s just nuts.

Deke

There’s a sweet scent wafting across the town plaza. It’s driving my wolf crazy. I keep raising my head and sniffing the air.

“Cut it out,” Lance mutters to me, and a growl rumbles in my chest. My blond packmate is standing too close. Fucker’s doing it on purpose. He knows my wolf needs space.

“Leave him alone,” Channing defends me to Lance. “It’s almost a full moon. That makes him crazy.”

“This is Deke we’re talking about,” Lance retorts. “He’s always crazy.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my growl intensifying. Lance side steps quickly, dancing out of the way. I’ve been known to up and punch my packmates for less provocation.

“No fighting.” Rafe, our Alpha, emerges from the alley shadows. “Not in front of civilians.” By civilians he means humans. Rafe glowers extra long at Lance. The two are brothers, but Rafe never plays favorites. If anything, he’s harder on Lance than us.

“Business done?” Lance asks, running a hand through his surfer blond hair. Fucking pretty boy preens like he’s in a boy band.

“Yep, let’s move out,” Rafe orders.

The other guys immediately follow our alpha. But I resist, scuffing my boots on the plaza stones. That scent calls to me. Candy sweet. My mouth waters.

Rafe doesn’t miss my reluctance. “Deke? You coming?”

“I don’t know.” I rub my chin. “I think I might stay a while.” Even as I say it, I know it’s lame. I’m the last of my pack who’d want to stick around a public plaza crawling with humans. Things are better for me now that I’m out of the service. We have our own place and can run free in the mountains every night. It keeps my wolf manageable. But I’m still the guy who gets edgy around too many people.

“For what? There’s no band tonight.” Channing smirks and points to an old concert flyer. “And I didn’t know you liked Jimmy Buffett.”

I flip him the bird.

“Deke,” Rafe says, a hint of growl in his voice.

“What?” Out of respect for my alpha, I tuck my middle finger away. “I just want to stay out a little longer. Enjoy the night air.”

There’s a long pause while my pack stares at me like I announced I wanted to put on a pretty pink tutu and dance a pas de deux.

“I could stay,” Lance offers.

“I don't need a babysitter.” Enough of this fucker. I bare my teeth. In answer, Lance’s wolf makes its presence known, eyes flashing blue. My wolf surges to the fore, a second away from snapping its chain.

“Fine.” Rafe steps between me and his brother, inserting himself physically. Ever the peacemaker, until we piss him off too far. Then he kicks our asses. Not a perfect system, but it works. “Deke, you do what you want. The rest of us are heading back.” He jerks his head, and Channing and Lance march to the bikes. Rafe hangs back.

“You sure about this?” he mutters to me. My alpha’s the only one who has the right to ask this question, and it still makes me bristle. I don’t have the best track record around humans. I’m not charming, like Lance. I get downright surly, and if provoked… well, let’s just say trouble is guaranteed

Rafe knows this, and he keeps a closer eye on me. If he were a lesser wolf, my wolf would challenge him and rip him to shreds.

Most of the time, I’m glad Rafe is a better fighter than me. If I ever lost control or went too far, he’d be there to put me down.

But tonight, I want to be left alone. “I’m good,” I say and stretch my lips in a semblance of a smile. This is my happy face, and I know it leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve been told skeletons are less creepy.

Sure enough, Rafe shakes his head. “Don’t show that to civilians. You’ll scare them,” he orders, but then he slaps my arm in universal bro code for “Take care,” and leaves me, heading in the direction of the bikes.

A sigh heaves outta me when my pack rides away. Normally, I’d be glad to get away from this town and all these people. Happy to be on the motorcycle. There’s nothing like a long ride on the mountain roads, the wind rushing over me and chilling my arms, nothing between me and the night sky. But tonight, I’ve got more important things to do than ride.

I lift my head to the moon and drink in the candy sweetness. I’m gonna find the owner of this sweet scent before my wolf goes crazy—crazier than he already is.

Sadie