Her Dark Moon (House of Wolves and Magic Book 1) Page 2

  It was in moments like these that I wished I had someone I could call. A friend, a confidant, someone I could trust that wouldn't hand me to the packs tied in a bow of deception and lies. My mom used to be the one I'd call, then after she and my dad died, it was my brother, then after he died it was no one. I hadn't been able to trust anyone since.

  Tears were gathering in my eyes, and I hated it. I hated being the scared she-wolf, the bitch hiding instead of fighting, but if I didn't keep myself alive then my family's deaths would have accomplished nothing, and I would not let them have died in vain. Pack life may have killed my family but it wouldn't kill me. That was one thing I would make damn sure of, even if it meant leaving the city without the funds I wanted, I'd do it if I had to. There was a reason I had no friends, why no one I worked with knew my real name or what side of town I lived on, a reason I took a shitty job, just so I could get paid under the table. I drew as little attention to myself as possible, and I needed to keep it that way.

  Sitting there on the hard linoleum floor I stared at the table against my door. I felt like someone was going to burst through at any moment and kidnap me. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility, I mean it was a similar situation that had destroyed my family in the first place.

  My mother's humming sounded in my head, the same song she used to sing to me and my brother when we were kids. I could almost picture her as my eyes drifted shut. I knew she would hate my apartment, how far it was from pack lands, how small it was, how there was no access to nature anywhere around it. I could hear her gently disapproving voice in my head, and I knew she would be more concerned than actually disapproving, which made me smile.

  It morphed though, the teasing, the smile in her voice, it all vanished as she argued with my father.

  "You can't talk to him about this, he won't hear it!" my mother screamed, fear radiating out of her.

  "So we are just supposed to let girls get taken? Get treated like breeding stock? What if they took Nina?" my father asked, gesturing to me where I sat at the kitchen table doing my homework.

  "No, but there has to be another way. You can't confront the alpha about this. He's made his stance clear, to say anything now would be to openly oppose him which would just lead to a challenge or banishment," my mother pleaded.

  "Sweetheart." My father knelt in front of me. "Can you tell your mother how old you are?"

  "I think I remember giving birth, Wilson!" My mother threw her hands in the air when my father didn't even turn and look at her, just nodded me on.

  "It's okay, sweetie, you can say it." His voice was encouraging, and though I knew saying anything meant I was involved in something I didn't fully understand I still replied.

  "Thirteen and a half," I said, emphasizing the half.

  "Rachel, how old is the alpha's new mate?" My father asked as he stood and faced my mother once more.

  "Sixteen." My mother gulped and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she silently cried.

  "Two and a half years, if that. That's all the difference there is between our Nina and our alpha's new mate. He's forty-five," my father said, his voice a growl by the end. "He should be disgusted with himself."

  "She's his mate," my mother whispered. "The fates ordained it."

  "Did they? Are we sure about that? Or is that just a scared sixteen-year-old girl saying whatever she needs to so she can survive?"

  Everything swirled and we were standing in the alpha's hall. He sat on his chair like a throne, snarling as my father spoke. Even I could see the wolf in the alpha's eyes. When my father was done, silence reigned in the hall for a moment before the alpha exploded. "You dare to question me? To question the mate that the fates gave me? Do you think you can lead this pack better than I can? Do you think you can best me in battle?" the alpha roared.

  My father shook his head, and I shrank behind my brother. The movement caught the alpha's eye though and I knew, I just knew, the moment he made the decision as he stared at me.

  "No!" I screamed, as he stood and walked over to my father shifting into his wolf at the last second and tearing my father's throat out before turning and doing the same to my mother.

  He shifted back to human and walked two steps before turning to us. His eyes darted between my brother's and my own. "You know what happens to people who disobey their alphas now don't you children?"

  My brother nodded his head, and the alpha looked at me, but I was frozen with fear. The longer I didn't move, the more the moment seemed to stretch and twist between us until the alpha was there in front of me, his wolf tearing my throat out.

  3

  I WOKE up with a scream on my lips, my hand going to my throat as though the alpha really had hurt me. He hadn't, of course, there were some lines even an alpha couldn't cross, and killing children was one of them. My brother and I had been left alone the day the alpha tore my parents apart, and I always suspected it was because he knew if he killed us someone really would challenge him. And it would be someone who thought they could win.

  As soon as I was sure my throat was intact I pushed up from where I’d passed out on the floor. My body protested the movement. Part of me wanted to shower, get the smell of the dumpster off me, but since I was going to the gym I doubted anyone there would notice anyway. I stretched as I made myself a cup of coffee, drinking it as I grabbed my gym bag and walked out of the door. I was determined not to let the events of the night before stop me from doing what I wanted to do.

  The peeling paint of the gym walls came into view just as I started to feel exposed. As soon as I saw the place though, I felt calm, relaxed even. I might be about to get my ass handed to me by Richard in the ring, but I was oddly looking forward to it. The large logo that was painted on the front of the building, a muscle-bound man throwing a punch, shocking I know, greeted me as I entered.

  The guy at the front desk—Matt I think his name was—scanned my badge and nodded me toward the locker rooms. I never had found out what happened to Chad, the guy that used to have that position. Hadn't seen him in weeks.

  The locker rooms were basically unisex with just a curtain hanging between the different areas. I tossed my bag into one of the lockers, setting the combination before heading out to get my regular workout in. I didn't need to change since I wore my workout clothes over.

  As I left the changing room I heard my mother's voice in my head again and suddenly I was seeing the place through her eyes. The men who worked out here were massive, each one about the size of a house, but as human as they came. That didn't mean they weren’t intimidating to look at.

  Richard was over in the corner on the Stairmaster, he'd been working on his bubble butt for a while now, and let me tell you, it's impressive as hell. Like he's got that perfect peach shape going on. I'm honestly a little jealous. He's not soft though and was totally going to kick my ass in a half hour when we stepped into the ring together judging from how he was abusing the Stairmaster.

  Michael, not Mike, gave me the bro head nod when he saw me, so I walked over to him. "How's the wedding planning going?"

  "Tay is currently rethinking all the flowers. And outfits. And everything. Fortunately the wedding itself is still happening." He snorts. "He wants us to wear tuxes now instead of the simple suits we had agreed on. I don't mind though. Whatever makes him happy," Michael said. I loved getting my updates about the wedding. It didn't bother me that I wasn't invited, I just wanted to eke out a little bit of the same joy they felt with each other, and if that meant I had to live vicariously through Michael, so be it.

  "You're the sweetest," I replied, patting him on the shoulder and heading to the elliptical.

  I could hear Ryan over in the corner bragging about his exploits from the night before. I swear the man sweated alcohol, but never seemed hungover. "God you should have seen the ass on her, it was fucking magnificent..." Was all I overheard.

  I couldn't help but add, "Bet she'd be jealous of Richard's though."

  The guys ar
ound him snorted at my comment and Ryan eyed me a little. "When are you going to come out with me, Blondie?"

  "When you get into the ring with me," I replied, as usual.

  I didn't think he actually wanted me to go out with him, it seemed more like he just wanted me to give in. Something I was not about to do. I may be a bitch but I wasn't about to bow down to anyone.

  "She'd kick your ass, man," one of his friends said as Ryan struggled to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn't get in the ring with me.

  We both knew he wasn't agile enough. He was too focused on size, looking as bulky and muscular as possible, but his cardio was shit and he couldn't move as fast on his feet as I could. I tuned out whatever crap excuse he came up with though and started my morning run.

  My feet circled around and around on the elliptical until I was dripping with sweat and panting. I pushed myself harder than normal, and caught a few looks from the other men in the gym, so I knew I'd been going faster than they'd ever seen me go before, but after seeing the shifters last night I wanted to make sure I could get away if I needed to.

  A whistle sounded from across the room as I was slowing down on the elliptical, and I looked over to see Richard calling me to the ring. We boxed every other morning. It kept me fast on my feet and used to being hit since it was rare for me to leave the ring without him connecting with me at least once.

  I walked over to the ring and grabbed a pair of the gloves that were sitting by the ropes before I climbed in. I also grabbed my mouthguard from the container in my cubby by the ring. The last thing I needed was to have to pay for unexpected dental work.

  Once I was ready to go, Richard and I touched gloves and began sparring. I was able to get a few hits in until I got too cocky and left an opening for him. His glove connected full speed with my eye, ringing my bell. He might not be a shifter, but he was crazy strong and fast for a human.

  "Shit, you okay?" he asked, though he sounded a little garbled thanks to the mouth guard.

  I nodded, but stars swam in my vision for a moment before I could refocus.

  We kept going and I started to take more hits, but Richard was pulling his punches, which I was grateful for. There were only so many hits I could take before going to work afterward was a bad idea. There were some things I just shouldn't do after taking hits to the head, operating heavy machinery, or being under it, was one of them.

  I glanced at the clock and made the time-out gesture with my gloves. "I've got to get to work," I said around the rubber or whatever it was that the guard was made out of.

  "You sure you're okay?" Richard asked as we both pulled off our gloves and tucked everything away into our cubbies.

  "Yeah, I'm good." I smiled at him and started to stretch.

  "You might want to ice that unless you're good with it bruising," he added as he stretched a little as well. I knew he wasn't done with his workout, but he always made sure I was okay after we boxed. The gesture warmed my heart. If he didn't have a longtime partner then I would have been a little more on guard around him, but I knew he wasn't interested in me like that. We were good workout buddies, that was it. I kept him agile in the ring since I was smaller and faster while he threw harder punches than most, which I appreciated because I wasn't a china doll.

  After a quick shower and change I hustled over to the mechanic shop I worked at. It was nothing fancy, just like my gym, but Clark paid me under the table, which kept me off the radar and never asked about the bruises when I came in. He would wince occasionally, like I was sure he would today when he saw me, but he never asked or freaked out about it.

  It was because of the way he was so chill about everything that I usually tried to do as he asked. So I actually wanted to do it when he yelled, "Nina, can you help this customer?"

  My hands, however, were currently very occupied with an oil change and trying to prevent the used oil from spilling all over me as it filled the pan since the drain plug was in a weird place. "I'm a little tied up at the moment!" I called back, trying not to be irritated that I was practically the only one doing the physical work around the shop anymore. I didn't want to do customer service as well.

  "I'm busy, get your ass out from under the car and help this guy!" Clark yelled back.

  I had to literally bite my tongue to prevent myself from telling him to fuck off. Instead I found something to brace the oil pan and rolled out from under the car, cringing when I heard the pan fall off the brick I'd balanced it on. Oil was now going to be all over the floor under the car. Great.

  After wiping my hands on a rag and trying to get them as clean as possible, because people even expect mechanics to be somewhat clean, which boggles the mind, I headed toward the customer waiting area. It wasn't a waiting room exactly, more just a square of the shop that was kept cleaner than the rest. It was open to the air and just had a couple filing cabinets and other more businessy stuff that wouldn't fit in Clark's office.

  There wasn't anywhere to sit, so I could see the man from the back as I approached. As much as I hated to admit it, my eyes were drawn to his ass first. The guy was standing there, with his back to me, in a button down and suit pants, all of which look like they had been tailored to within an inch of their life. The round globes looked extra good because he had his hands in his pockets, pulling the material of the pants even tighter.

  My she-wolf perked up inside me as I let my eyes travel from his powerful thighs and ass, all the way up to his broad shoulders, ones that were wide enough that any line-backer would envy them. What I didn't expect was the shaggy hair that met the collar of his button down. It wasn't long exactly, more like layered than anything else, but it didn't look like he put that much effort into it, at least from the back. Either way, the guy looked yummy.

  It had been way too long since I'd gotten laid, if a man in a well-fitting shirt and pants was turning me on.

  "Can I help you?” I asked.

  I wasn't sure what had caused it—maybe the scent of the freshly spilled oil in my nose—but I didn't notice the scent of shifter until he turned to answer me. Panic flared brightly in my chest.

  I couldn’t be around another shifter. Not now. Not ever.

  4

  I BACK-PEDDLED as fast as possible. Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck. This was supposed to be an area that didn't have shifters. It was supposed to be safe for me. The longer I'd stayed here though, the more I had seen that change. And now there was a shifter standing in front of the fucking garage.

  Dammit.

  I tripped over my feet and fell to the floor as the guy asked, "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm good," I said as I pushed to my feet with my back turned to him. "What did you need?"

  Fear made my heart pound, and I could barely hear his words over the steady beat of my pulse in my ears as I pretended to pick up a rag and clean something. Just looking at a male shifter was a risk. One I refused to take. Not only could they realize that I was a shifter too, provided that they could scent me over the oil, grease, dirt, and whatever else I encountered at work that day, but we could imprint on each other. Then my life as I knew it would be completely over.

  Imprinting meant that the shifters were mates, drawn together by fate, and that I would be pulled right back into pack life. It wasn't that I hated the idea of imprinting itself, but I did hate the idea of losing my freedom, of being forced to join a pack, being tucked away on pack lands and expected to pop out pups until my body wasn't capable anymore. Oh, and don't forget raising them in a toxic culture.

  I'd seen times where imprinting was a good thing, my parents were the perfect example of imprinted mates. When I was growing up I saw their unconditional love, I saw how utterly devoted to one another they were, and I saw the love that my mom had for us. Having cubs with her fated mate seemed like one of the best things in her life. As much as I loved and missed my mother I couldn't imagine that. Not anymore.

  "Are you even listening to me?" a masculine voice asked, breaking through the haze of thoughts swirling
around in my head.

  "Sorry, what did you come in for?" I asked again, focusing on the box end wrench I was currently cleaning unnecessarily with the rag I'd found on the floor when I fell on my ass.

  "An oil change," the guy replied, sounding exasperated. From the corner of my eye I saw him run a hand through his hair, and the curiosity was almost my undoing. I turned further away from him.

  "You can leave your keys on the hood and I'll get it done within the hour," I said tossing the wrench into my toolbox.

  "You expect me to just leave the keys to my car on the hood? That's just asking for someone to steal it." He sounded astounded at my suggestion, and I felt him move closer to me.

  I turned and realized that he was in the shop proper, not the customer area, which made my panic spike again. If he got close enough he'd be able to scent that I was a shifter and then there would be all these questions. What's a female shifter doing in the city alone? Why are you working as a mechanic? Where's your family? Which pack do you belong to? It would be never ending until I broke and looked at him.

  "You can leave the keys on the filing cabinet," I said as I picked up another wrench to theoretically clean.

  "I need to run some errands; can I give you my number?"

  How many things did this guy need? Why wouldn't he just leave? If someone was acting this crazy around me I certainly wouldn't stick around and ask to give them my number. "I don't need your number, just your keys. Why would I need your number?" I asked over my shoulder.

  "So you can call me when the car is ready?" The guy was finally starting to get weirded out by my crazy. Good. Let him.

  "There's a clipboard with some paper on it just over there, write it down on that," I replied, reaching for another wrench to clean.