WARNING

Moonlight Inn is reverse harem, which means Lyra doesn’t have to choose between her many lovers. This book contains sexual scenes.

This book was written, produced, and edited in the UK where some spelling, grammar and word usage will vary from US English.

Copyright © Leigh Kelsey 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the author

The right of Leigh Kelsey to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

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HOUNDED

LYRA

In the pocket rainforest world where we shifted from human to wolf and back again, Casimir Mrozinski and Jack Simmons prowled into the waterfall’s pool, their stares dark and hungry enough to make my breathing stumble. I devoured them with my eyes, Cas broad and pale, so good looking it hurt my heart to look at him, with his pale fall of hair, his stark tattoos, his liquid silver eyes; and Jack, brown-skinned and more muscular than any man had a right to be, the flex of his stomach muscles making my mouth water as he came towards me.

And they were mine.

Mine, along with Gray, my wild wolf, my best friend. He sat at the edge of the pool, watching with luminous hazel eyes, a grin on his face. His long brown hair was a total mess, thanks to my hands running through it as I rode him hard and fast mere minutes ago. Oops.

Smooth hands braced my waist and I glanced up into Jack’s hunger-dark eyes, my heart stuttering. I slid a hand over his shoulder, down one of those massive arms, and as if the touch had unleashed him, his mouth surged forward and claimed mine. A shiver worked through me as he kissed me hard, water swelling around us as I pressed as close to him as I could get. I gasped as his hands slid down to the backs of my thighs and lifted me up against him, my legs automatically locking around his waist.

“Jack,” I exhaled, that place in my chest where we were bound pulling taut, velvet warmth and dark shadows stretching between us, a deeper connection than the pack bond. I wanted to know what those shadows were, wanted to know Jack inside out.

I locked my arms around his neck and slowed our kiss, slanting my mouth over his as our tongues traced slow and long caresses that made my pussy drip molten ore.

When we broke apart, gasping, Jack’s eyes traced over my face with a look I could only describe as adoring. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lyra Ripley.”

I grinned, my stomach dancing with a swarm of butterflies. “Really?”

He nodded, brushing my mouth with a gentle kiss. “Yes.”

I slid one hand over his shoulder and down his chest, loving his heated skin under my palm. Droplets rolled down his skin from the waterfall roaring close by; I traced one with my fingertip before lowering my mouth to lap it up with my tongue.

“Lyra,” he groaned, tightening his grip on me.

I grinned wider. I could feel it—his need. It wasn’t a heavy punch or a lightning bolt but a storm roiling beneath waves, building into something massive, destructive, and beautiful. Something that would mark me forever.

I slid my gaze over Jack’s shoulder at Casimir, my alpha, but he seemed content to watch for the minute, or he was letting me have this time with Jack before he took me. I’d wanted Cas for so damn long that the idea of finally being with him, my new mate … I had a feeling it was going to shatter me.

“Think you’re strong enough to hold me like this for a while?” I asked Jack, lowering my eyes to his, heated chocolate brown and glazed with need.

“I could hold you like this for hours,” he replied in a voice like grating boulders. He might have been able to hold me like this for hours but his patience wouldn’t last that long. I slid a hand along his jaw, my heart turning to a puddle of sap as he leaned his face into the touch. I’d never been this tactile a person except for in wolf form when touch was common among pack, but this … I loved it, the simplicity of touching him, and I loved his reaction too.

I leant across the few inches between our faces to lay a kiss on his jaw, then his lips, and was so damn glad that shifting had wrecked our clothes and brought us back naked as I lowered myself gradually, carefully—I’d seen what sort of weapon he was packing and there was no way I could rush this—onto his length.

The growl that came out of him as the head slipped in … I shuddered hard, clinging to him, my eyes mashed shut at the feeling of being filled, as I waited for my pussy to adjust.

“Lyra,” he groaned, thumbs rubbing tender circles on my thighs. “Lyra, fuck—”

I pushed down a little further, still going slowly, until a few inches were inside me. He was nowhere near in but already my eyes wanted to roll back, already every inch of my body had lit on fire. My stomach expanded with a breath as I used my grip around Jack’s neck, and his hands on my thighs, to lift myself off him and plunge back down.

My breath shot out of my lungs as he slid further inside, his hands digging into my thighs, right over the tattoo I had of a full moon and four silhouetted wolves—my pack. Now, me and my mates.

I blinked open my eyes to look into his deep brown irises and I had to kiss him—it was a need, so strong I had no chance to fight it. He was my mate, my Jack, and I was going to spontaneously combust if I didn’t kiss him. So I did, gripping tight around his neck, my fingers interlocked as he used his grip on my thighs to move me up and down his cock.

His breathing hitched as we kissed and I felt it, felt his stomach jump against mine, hard muscle skimming my lithe curves.

“Lyra,” he warned, fingers digging into my thighs as I bounced faster up and down his dick. I was so wet now that he slid fully inside and I paused, just for a second, to feel it—that connection, the way we were one being, utterly bonded. I knew he could feel it too because I sensed his shock, then his wonder. The velvet touch of his bond slid around me, warm in my chest.

I kissed him long and hard, moving faster as that bond filled my chest until it felt full to bursting. Gasping into the kiss, I dug my nails into Jack’s muscled shoulders as orgasm built low in my belly.

“I can feel it,” he said, somewhere between a gasp and a pleased growl. “I can feel you.”

My breathing broke the closer I got; I just held him tighter and writhed against him, the tip of his cock so deep inside me it was an unreal, unexplainable sensation I’d never felt before.

“Still okay holding me up?” I asked, breathy.

“Fine,” he bit out, and I knew he was close too, maybe because of my own climax barrelling down on me. “I won’t let you go, Lyra.”

That sounded as much a vow as it was a reassurance that he wouldn’t drop me into the waterfall’s pool. My heart stuttered. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, losing control of my hips and my breathing as climax raced for me. It wasn’t the forceful crash of pleasure that I’d had with Gray but something much, much longer that burned like fire in my body. My back bowed, and only Jack’s grip on my legs kept them locked around him, kept me plunging down on his throbbing cock as I fell apart.

“Lyra,” Jack barked out, and then I felt the rush of his pleasure through the mate bond, wringing another throb from my sensitised pussy as I sagged against him.

True to his word, he didn’t let me fall, but when we’d caught our breaths, he slowly, gently set me down. My bare feet brushed cool stone under the water but my legs gave out and I ended up slumping anyway—right into Cas’s arms as he swept me up.

“Um,” I said, thoroughly dazed. “Cas, I don’t think—”

His deep chuckle cut me off. “I know, Lyra.”

I lay my head against his chest and sighed, cracking my eyes open to check Jack’s legs hadn’t given out too. He was okay, wilted against the curved stone wall a few paces away.

“But—”

“Home,” Cas said, and it had the ringing of an alpha command to it.

I didn’t fight him one bit as he held me against him and carried me to the portal.

LYRA

I’d recovered my wits during the walk back to the portal and then the cottage—well, as I was carried to the cottage—the brisk sea wind waking me from the pleasure daze I’d fallen into. I couldn’t stop grinning, though. I kept looking at them and thinking, these are my mates. They’re all my mates. Jack—Gray—Cas.

“I can’t believe I laughed at you when you suggested this,” I said in the dark hours of morning, stretching out in bed. His bed. Hazy yellow lamplight bathed his tidy furniture, his neat bed, and the stacks of clothes on shelves opposite us. The whole space smelled of Cas and had me in a cosy, relaxed state. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“I try,” he replied with a quicksilver grin, a flash that was there and gone. It made my stomach flip to see it. I felt … giddy.

“Come here,” I said, holding out my hands. Cas’s eyes softened as he crawled across the bed but I reached forward and plucked the plate out of his hands and he barked a surprised laugh. “The cake, Casimir. The cake.”

If anything, his silver eyes just got softer. He settled in beside me, pulling the covers over himself. Pyjamas—Cas slept in pyjamas. Well pyjama pants, a deep maroon check pattern in the softest brushed cotton. It was freaking adorable. He was huge, barrel chested, and with his tattoos and alpha-ness, he gave off serious don’t fuck with me vibes. And even with his chest bare, he looked so normal right now, so soft and cuddly. Like the polar bear I often compared him to.

I sighed as I dug into the huge slice of triple chocolate cake with a fork, moaning in bliss as it met my tongue.

“If you make sounds like this,” Cas said in a low voice, “I will not control myself. You will not finish the cake.”

I was sorely tempted to moan outrageously with the next bite but I couldn’t risk losing the cake. Even after the meal we’d eaten when we got back, sometime after two a.m., I was still hungry. I guess that’s what happened when you hunted three wolves and had crazy-good sex with two of your mates. I devoured the rest of the outrageously chocolatey slice in silence, set the plate aside, and snuggled into the pillows.

Sex was one thing but this … this was something else. I turned to the side to just look at Cas, that grin fixing itself to my lips again. His icy-blond hair was rumpled, the sides needing shaving again—but finding time for that between fighting rogues, running the Moonlight, and taking care of us would be nigh on impossible. I met his liquid silver eyes and—frowned. Creases and shadows circled them. I lifted a hand to gently trace those shadows, my heart melting when his eyes drifted shut.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Three hours,” he replied. His voice … I’d never heard him sound like this. It was a quiet, night-time voice, any masks and strength stripped away. It felt a lot like something private, and that he was showing me this side of him … it was a gift. “I’m fine, Lyra.”

“You’re exhausted,” I sighed. “You should have had some of my cake. The sugar wouldn’t hurt.”

He smiled, his eyes opening. “You are worried.”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing through my nose. “No shit.”

He shook his head, hair ruffling on his pillow. “You are rude.”

“Yup.” I shrugged, smiling wide. “You’re stuck with me now. Mate bond—no take backs.”

His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me in close. His scent—pines and oak trees and wolf fur—curled around my senses and I fucking melted, relaxing against his chest. “I am stuck with you and happy.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Me too.”

We were quiet for a while, but a good quiet—a restful, mutual kind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his arms loose around me as he traced my bare shoulder with gentle fingers.

I took a breath, letting my thoughts run and trying to find the answer among them. “Yeah? I mean, I think so. I’m fine with the mating bonds, and all of this. I just … I’m still pissed about the red pulse and the lone wolves.”

“You’re still scared,” Cas corrected.

“Both,” I conceded, tipping my head up to look at him and propping my chin on his chest. “What about you? Other than being exhausted, how are you?”

His thumb came up to brush the delicate skin of my cheekbone. “Happy. Relieved.” His eyes flickered. “I’m still furious. I want to know how this happened, and why you are hunted.” He met my eyes, his hand cupping my jaw. “I am happy, Lyra. You are meant to be my mate.”

“Right? We should have mated months ago.” I glanced away. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“A while?” he repeated.

“Fine,” I spat. “For a year. Maybe two. It’s fine, don’t dwell on it.”

His laugh warmed me from the inside, a long, rolling chuckle. “I have felt the same. My wolf tells me to claim you.”

“Maybe you should have listened,” I said, shoving his shoulder.

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes on me incredibly soft. “It was meant to be this way. Stara miłość nie rdzewieje.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And for those of us who don’t speak Polish…”

His lips curled on the edges, the softest smile I’d ever seen on his face. “Old love does not rust. This love is … stuck, always, with no end.” The little scrunch between his eyebrows told me he was struggling for a word.

“Permanent?”

“Yes.” His eyes lit from within. “Yes, Lyra. My love is permanent. Waiting, it did not change it, make it less.” He skimmed my jaw with the pad of his thumb, his other arm still holding me close. “But waiting … I think maybe it was planned.”

“By your god?” I asked. Unlike me, with my hazy belief in a higher power, Cas was staunchly religious, and his faith was unshakeable.

“By my god,” he agreed. “Things happen the way they happen.”

I nodded, setting my head down on his chest. “For a reason.”

“Yes.”

“You think I was always supposed to mate you three, at once?” I shivered at the feeling of his hands brushing through my hair. So, fucking, good.

“I do.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure what to believe, but I wasn’t complaining about the current state of my love life. “I guess all that matters is it did happen.”

“Yes.” He paused. “And that is wise. Uncommon, for you.”

I poked him in the ribs. “Now, you are rude.”

His deep rumble of a laugh made my belly fill with butterflies. I felt, again, like I was seeing a side of him that very few did. “I apologise, my Lyra.”

I could stand to hear that again a few million times. My Lyra. I propped myself up on my elbows above him, smirking down at him. “Yours, huh?”

“Yes.” His voice brooked no argument.

“Alright then, alpha. Why don’t you prove it?” We still had to consummate the bond between us. It had been in the back of my mind for the past hour or so, distracting me even from my giant plate of food, if not the cake.

He moved so fast I shrieked, rolling me under him and pinning me to the bed with his considerable strength. My heart pounded.

“Do not challenge me, Lyra,” he said, dipping down to speak into my ear. “You are mine now.” His hand slid down my waist to grab my hip. “I will make the world black out around you.”

Holy fucking shit.

I was so breathless, I couldn’t respond.

LYRA

Our first full day of being mated went without incident, if you didn’t count Cas fucking my brains out an incident. No—fucking wasn’t the right word for it. The whole time, he’d kissed me or kept eye contact or whispered words of adoration, his hands placing reverent touches on my face, my breasts, my stomach as he thrust slow and deep into me.

He made love to me, and I’d never, in my life, had an orgasm quite like it. Less physical than a kiss laid on my soul. My breathing had shattered, my body twitching as pleasure tore through me … and I’d cried. And immediately sworn Cas to secrecy about it, even as he kissed the tears away and murmured to me in a languid mix of Polish and English.

I definitely classed that as an incident. But today? No attacks, no lone wolves, nothing out of the ordinary. So maybe there was something to Cas’s theory that having three mates would keep me safe.

I wasn’t holding my breath.

I’d curled up on the couch with my mates for most of the day, Jack holding me from behind, my feet on Gray’s lap, and Cas sat on the floor where I could run my fingers through his hair while we watched Netflix. This was new, but it was instinct to be close to them, touching and showing affection. This was what wolves did.

I’d spent the second half of the day crammed into a tiny basement room with fifty other people, watching Screaming Cerberus howl through a set-list. The Cellar stank of stale beer and smoke-machine smoke and the sound was a bit dodgy, but it felt a lot like home in the same way the Moonlight did.

Or maybe that was the music, vibrating through my ribcage as Rhiannon, their lead singer, howled about injustice and love. Mostly in separate songs but sometimes all at once. I sipped a JD and Coke, watching Gray beat the shit out of his drum kit, his face drenched in sweat and his hair tied in a knot on the back of his head. Ever since we’d mated, my emotions kept doing unexpected things. As I watched Gray, I felt a surge of pride at my man.

When the band were done, Gray bounded over and hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me into a sweaty, damp hug. I shoved him away, scowling. “Disgusting.”

His grin would not be deterred. “Yep. And you love it.” He tapped me on the nose with a fingertip. “Mate.”

I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t deny the flutter in my belly. “Go get me another drink,” I threw back. “Mate.”

He kissed my cheek and went, dutifully, to the bar. He’d been getting bolder all day, his normal platonic touches turning to lingering sweeps of my thighs, or squeezing my waist, or pressing his fingers into my lower back in a way that felt amazing. I don’t know how the hell he knew I’d like it, but damn, Gray knew what felt good to me.

I thought about that now, stood in the half-open doorway of the cottage and blowing chocolate-scented smoke into the midnight-dark sky. I had two vices that drained my meagre savings—vaping and knives, preferably of the throwing variety but I’d take anything sharp and pointy. I was running low on both, thanks to the stress of the past week sending me for an emergency smoke every few hours and my favourite knives showing signs of rust. That’s what you got when you stabbed people.

I sucked in another breath of sweet air and let it fill my lungs before exhaling, my mind jumping from the mating ritual, to Cas, to Jack, to Gray. All different in both looks and temperament—Cas, the alpha carved of moonstone, protector to all; Jack the handsome, elegant black man who took everything deadly seriously; and Gray, rangy and skinny with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, total pain in my ass.

God knows how they’d describe me. Maybe: Lyra, tall and angry, with tattoos in places that aren’t polite to show in public, a mouth full of filthy words, and a never-ending attitude problem.

I laughed to myself. I liked that.

“Put that on my gravestone,” I said to no one, glancing over the sweep of grass to the cliffs and the sea beyond, delicate silver stars winking in the curtain of sky above it all. “Here lies Lyra Ripley and her never-ending attitude problem.” I laughed, but it wasn’t as funny as it would have been a week ago.

Ever since the area around Whitby Abbey and the Church of Saint Mary had been soaked in blood—the blood of a god, or so a witch had told me—magic in town had been going batshit. Even the witch covens couldn’t figure out how to stop it, or even calm it down. I didn’t know how it was affecting the other species, but for us wolves it was enhancing our pheromones, our scents. And it had broadcasted the fact that I was a female wolf in season—an all-you-can-eat breeding buffet—all the way to Birmingham and Nottingham.

Two wolves had caught my scent, one of them even abandoning his pack to come straight for me. To claim me as their mate, whether I agreed or not. Wolves were a lot of things—strong, powerful, dangerous, deadly, super pretty—but what we weren’t was progressive. Or most wolves weren’t. I’d happened to find myself an awesome pack full of males who, while maybe not a hundred percent good, were trying. Trying not to be like the two rogue assholes who’d seen me as a commodity, a first come, first served opportunity.

And sure, I was one hell of a prize. But I was Lyra too, a woman with my own thoughts and will and dreams and choices. And I wasn’t about to allow anyone to make major life decisions for me, wolf or otherwise.

I’d made my own choices, and I’d chosen my three mates. To protect myself, and because I loved them—my pack. My family.

LYRA

I was on the verge of going inside—it was fucking freezing, even with a leather jacket thrown over my vest—when a white shape trotted along the edge of the cliffs, right by the fence line. And by the boundary Rita had put up to protect me from the consequences of the magic pulse. The shape was clearly an animal of some kind, probably a wandering dog, but I held my breath to see how the wards would react. Only pack could pass—no one else. Cas had been very firm in that, overseeing the witchcraft even if he had no knowledge of how it worked.

But I was worrying for nothing. The dog—I was sure it was a dog now—came closer, way past the wards. Not a threat, then. I’d never known Rita’s witchcraft to screw up, so the dog was safe. Not a wolf come to claim me. Not someone else I’d have to fight for the right to mate who I wanted and to refuse who I didn’t. I exhaled all my panic, rolling my eyes at myself.

The dog—a weird looking, thin white thing I didn’t know the name of—trotted over, coming a little bit closer when I held out my hand, palm down.

“Hello, puppy,” I said, smiling as the dog nosed my fingers. Its face was thin, like it had been squished in a vice, but his eyes—I got the sense he was male—were black and soulful. His tail gave an abrupt wag as I brushed my hand over his head. “Are you lost?”

He tilted his head.

I looked for a collar but found none. No way to identify his owners. He’d probably bolted from one of the houses up the road, or got off the lead of a late-night beach jogger. I sighed. No way to take him home, and Cas would kill me if I took in a stray. I fished my phone out of my pocket, took a quick photo, and posted it to a local Facebook page. If his owner had lost him, they’d find him. “Want some meat?”

He gazed at me with those soulful, deep eyes, and my heart clenched as I looked into his eyes. What had this poor dog gone through? Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have told his owners where to find him.

“You stay here. Stay. I’m gonna go get some ham.”

I gave him a strong look, hoping we could communicate wolf to canine, and turned to get some food from the fridge. I stuffed a piece of cooked ham in my own mouth while I was there, and turned back—to find the doorway empty. My heart sunk in disappointment as I poked my head around the door, scanning the grassy area. Gone.

“Don’t say bye, will you? Dick.”

I huffed and ate his three ham slices myself.

LYRA

The next day I tried to keep the grin off my face as Jack slid past me behind the bar at the Moonlight, reaching to grab a packet of crisps from the boxes stacked against the wall behind us. A shiver ran through my vertebrae at the feeling of his muscular body pressing against my back. It was still so new, this being mated thing, and it made me equal parts giddy and apprehensive. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to be someone’s mate. If they wanted a soft, emotional woman to take care of them, they’d seriously overestimated me.

If I wasn’t taking care of them, what kind of mate was I? One who snapped, had a temper shorter than a matchstick, and swore more viciously than a lot of the fishermen who came in here.

“What can I get you?” I asked as a woman pulled herself onto a barstool. She gave me a soft smile, her eyes lit with an inner glow, and I thought, this is the kind of woman my mates should want. Someone who smiles, and looks at strangers with open, welcoming eyes. Not someone who grins like a shark, glares, and insults. But I guess they’d known what they were getting into when they decided to mate me. They’d lived with me long enough to figure out what sort of woman I was.

“Dry white wine,” the woman replied, batting her eyelashes at me, and then at Jack as he came over to pour a pint from the tap beside me. A strange feeling went through me. I was flattered, sure, at the sultry look in her eye. Part of me wanted to give her a smile right back even though I wasn’t gay, if only because it was one hell of a compliment to get flirty looks from someone like her—luxurious fire-red waves of hair, flawless porcelain skin, smoky blue eyes, and that gentle smile.

The rest of me wanted to scratch her eyes out for looking at Jack.

I must have been glaring—growling?—because Jack pressed his hand to the middle of my back and gave me a pointed look. I made myself busy pouring the woman’s drink and putting her money in the till. I wouldn’t snap at her, not when her money was going in the kitty that supported us. But that didn’t mean I could be nice to her. When I went back to give her her change, I found Jack’s face set in a familiar stony glower, fatally serious now the glitter had left his eyes. I hadn’t realised how different he’d looked when he was happy.

“I’m taken,” he said in a low, growly voice. I don’t think I missed the implied, and so is she.

Interesting. Apparently I wasn’t the only one driven to territorial mate shit.

“Here’s your change,” I said with a sunny smile that clearly baffled both of them. “Enjoy your drink.”

She walked away with confused eyes and no shortage of disappointment.

I glanced at Jack, his eyes dark and slitted behind his glasses—readers he still wore from taking a delivery this morning that made him look sexier than ever. His wide mouth was pressed into a sulky line. I might have been just as pissed off at the sight of a woman flirting with him but the quick way he’d shot her down, and the way he’d laid claim to me … it had the wolf in me doing somersaults of joy.

“Ever heard that saying about the wind changing?” I teased him, glancing at the customers in the pub to check nobody was paying attention to us before I slid close to Jack and palmed his dick through his jeans.

He jerked, his eyes flying to me. He was caught adorably between a scowl and an embarrassed flush.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” I said, leaning up to kiss his cheek, which only made him blush harder. For such a big, muscly man he was so fucking cute sometimes. “I wasn’t gonna flirt back.”

His mouth pressed into an even flatter line but there was a sparkle in his amber eyes again. I tried not to pout when he removed my hand from him, his thumb skating over my pulse point. “Not at work, Lyra.”

I grinned. “After, then?”

He was fighting a smile really damn hard. “If you’re lucky.”

I snorted. “If you’re lucky, you mean.” My amusement faded. I caught his hand in mine before he could fully let go. “I’m sorry. I was ready to attack her and all she did was look at you. That sucks.”

I spotted a patron approaching the bar and made to move away but Jack hooked me closer, his lips against my ear. “I was, too,” he admitted. “I wanted to hurt her, just to get her eyes off you.”

I squeezed his hand. “Sorry. You wouldn’t have to deal with this mate stuff if I—”

He kissed me to shut me up, a simple brush of his mouth that wasn’t nearly enough. “Don’t. Don’t blame yourself, Lyra.” He squeezed my hip, my hand, and then let me go, turning to the man propping up the bar. “Pint, Samuel?”

He poured the man his drink, took his money, and when he came back, Jack gave me a steady glance—one of those trademark looks of his that worked wonders for easing my stress. “There are going to be bumps in the road. This is such a huge thing, a huge bond, it’ll take a while to settle.”

“I know.”

“It’s only been a day.”

I play-punched his arm because I wasn’t sure what to do. “I know.”

His mouth twitched, a smile caught there. I became fixated on the spot. “As long as we don’t kill anyone, I think we’re doing well.”

A laugh burst out of me. Jack wasn’t one to joke, but he had a morbid sense of humour apparently. “Yeah,” I agreed. “As long as we don’t kill anyone.”

JACK

Of course, three hours after I said that, we killed someone.

It was another rogue wolf, so I didn’t feel that bad about it. He’d followed us home, had cornered us by the cliffs just outside the shield the witch had set up. I’d planned to talk to him, to try and convince him that what he was doing was wrong, that he couldn’t force a woman to be his mate, since that was clearly what he planned to do. Some of these young wolves didn’t necessarily know a mate bond couldn’t be forced, that without the permission of both—or in our case, all—wolves involved, it was a pathetic, weak shadow of the bond.

I meant to talk to him but the second he growled at Lyra, I snapped.

I didn’t have claws, or a knife like Lyra carried around, or any other weapon. But I had my strength, and this man was a weedy shit. I launched myself at him even as Lyra shouted my name, and before he could attempt to stop me, I’d squeezed the life out of him.

My chest heaved, my vision red and furious, and I knew this wasn’t right, wasn’t me. I was the one who reasoned with people, the negotiator, not the one who resorted to violence.

“Jack,” Lyra said softly, approaching with slow, deliberate steps. “It’s okay now. We’re both fine. You can let go.”

I flinched as I realised I was still squeezing his throat and let go instantly, stumbling back as my breathing jumped, jolted, then raced out of control. I’d killed someone. I’d killed someone.

“Jack,” Lyra said again, her steps picking up pace until she was running towards me. I couldn’t reply. What the fuck had I done? I wasn’t a killer. That wasn’t who I was. “Jack,” Lyra snapped, grabbing my face to make me look at her. She opened her mouth to go on, a hardness still in her eyes until she got a good look at me. Then she slumped, her eyes filling up with sadness and pain as she leant up to kiss me.

I kissed her back desperately, clinging to her like she was a life raft. My breath caught, my eyes stinging as she kissed me, holding me tight, her hands pressed to my back through my jacket.

“It’s okay,” she said, an arm across my back as she led me through the shield and towards the house. “You’re gonna be fine.”

I shook my head, my jaw clenched so tightly I thought it would never unlock. “No.”

“Jack.” She stopped at the edge of the house, looking up at me with conflicted eyes before she sighed and said quietly, “I killed someone, you know. That wolf, near the abbey. I killed him, and I freaked out. Badly. But it’s—I’m not so bad now. You guys make me feel okay. I haven’t thought about it all day.”

But she was thinking about it now. I pulled her into my arms before I’d really decided to do so, my instincts riding me hard to protect her. “This mate thing is hell,” I said, thinking out loud. She flinched hard and I could have kicked myself. “Not being with you,” I reassured her, hugging her closer. “That’s everything I wanted it to be. But it’s making me into someone I don’t like. I snapped at the woman in the bar. I just killed someone for looking at you the wrong way.”

“In your defence,” she mumbled against my jacket, “he was probably going to try and kill you, and kidnap me.”

A long, low growl rumbled in my chest at the thought.

“I say try and kill,” she went on, her voice a darker tone, “because I wouldn’t have let him touch a fucking hair on your head.”

Whatever anger I still had melted. How the fuck was this gorgeous explosion of a girl mine? I dropped my lips to her hair, holding her tight until I felt less inclined to lose my composure. “If he’d looked at me,” I mused, “instead of you, your instincts could have made you kill him.”

She made a sound of agreement. “I wouldn’t regret it, you know? Not a fucking bit. Not if he’d tried to hurt you.”

My heart warmed, my face heating along with it. “I know,” I said, and I did. If there was one thing people should know about Lyra Ripley, it was this: she protected her friends and family with an unrivalled viciousness, and if you came for one of her own, she’d have no mercy. And I loved that about her.

Something occurred to me as my mind cleared of the haze of violence, and I sighed. “The respite of the lone wolves being scared away didn’t last.”

“Yeah.” She looked up at me, her green eyes wry but still tinged with worry for me. “Looks like even three mates isn’t enough to scare them away. I’m just that damn irresistible.”

I laughed, again questioning how she was mine.

“You’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that,” she said, scowling as a flush rose up her neck. A wild sense of accomplishment filled me, and I brushed her cheek with the back of a finger.

“Like what?”

“Like you…” She made another sound in the back of her throat and pushed past me into the kitchen, unsubtly avoiding answering. “Gray! Cas! We brought you a present!”

Gray came skidding into the kitchen, a wide grin fixed on his face. “A present? Aw, when did you become a nice, thoughtful person?”

Lyra snorted, already heading for the fridge. “Fair warning, it’s a corpse.”

Gray deflated. “Another one?”

LYRA

Cas was at the gym, making sure his bulk didn’t tragically vanish, and Gray was busy throwing together a giant meal—I’d requested it the bigger, the better—so I didn’t feel guilty about neglecting them as I knocked gently on Jack’s bedroom door. He probably thought I was done bothering him for the day but I was worried about him. I knew what it was like, killing someone. I’d never told anyone but I dreamt about it sometimes, plunging the knife into Will’s throat. I shuddered, but pushed off my discomfort as Jack called, “Come in.”

It was obvious he’d expected Gray because he did a double take at me. Idiot wolf. Or … I suppose it could be because I was wearing a long black T-shirt, my legs bare. It was probably the legs. I remembered his eyes skimming up my thighs the night I’d told him I wanted him and the others as my mates. Hmm. This I could use to my advantage. I’d come to check on him—to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up inside, and by those dark, tortured eyes he definitely was—but I could easily amend the plan to distract him instead.

And I was still in season, a fact I knew was driving them wild. I saw it in the way Cas would tense up when I brushed past him, or Gray would haul me close and kiss me breathless whenever I was within reach. Jack … Jack just leant close to me, his nose skimming my throat as he inhaled my scent, his hands flexing involuntarily.

This being in season thing was pretty damn scary—I wasn’t ready for kids—but I had to admit, I was loving the effect it had on my men.

“Hey,” I said, shutting the door behind myself. I leant back against it, propping my leg up and making the shirt ride higher to expose my tattooed thigh as I glanced around his room. I’d never actually been in here, so I lingered over the stacks of reference books, the posters on the walls of different continents and species of wolf and phases of the moon and ships. “Ships?” I asked, not really meaning to. Looked like I’d distracted myself. Oops.

“Yeah,” he replied, getting off his bed where he’d been reading a giant, dusty tome he’d probably got from an ancient book shop. I glanced briefly at the cover but all it had was a title—A NATURAL HISTORY OF GREAT BRITAIN. Sounded riveting. He shrugged, hovering near a wardrobe and glancing at the posters above his bookshelves. “I like them. My mum used to take me to watch the regatta.”

I tilted my head, my rising arousal pausing. I’d never heard him talk about his mum, but the wistful, gentle way he spoke had me wanting to hug him again. “She passed away, didn’t she?” I guessed.

He nodded, still looking at the printed ships. “When I was seven.”

“That sucks,” I breathed, my heart suddenly tight as I thought of my own parents. “That really fucking sucks.”

“It does.” He met my eyes and held out his hand, an invitation I didn’t hesitate to take. I curled my fingers around his warm hand, letting him pull me down onto the bed with him. “This is so strange,” he said quietly. “My wolf would touch you every second of every day if given the opportunity, and touch feels so natural to that part of me. But we’ve gone from not touching to being close like this and the rest of me—the man—questions every single thing.”

“You don’t need to,” I whispered. “I like this. A lot. I know what you mean though. If we were wolves right now, we’d be curled up on the ground around each other like it was no big deal.”

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “But that’s just not possible when we’re human. It doesn’t feel right, or—our brains get in the way.”

“And dissect everything,” I agreed. “Humans are shit.”

He huffed a laugh, his hand spreading across my back, the touch through my thin T-shirt amazing. “We need a happy medium.”

“I can get Old Jacqui plastered,” I offered. “She still loves a bottle of gin.”

He nudged me, not amused by my joke at all. “How about this? Just this?”

I pulled back, my eyes flying wide. “Just this? As in, nothing more? Nothing else?” I forced myself to be reasonable, even though the wolf in me was every bit as outraged as the woman. “If that’s what you need, okay.”

Jack’s laugh was warm, and I couldn’t hold back a smirk as he rolled his eyes at me. I’d never seen him roll his eyes in my life. “Oh, I want more, Lyra. I can assure you of that.”

His dark, sexy voice was doing something bad to my body. Bad and very, very good. “Right now?” I asked quickly. “Yes. Agreed.”

He laughed again, unrestrained and deep this time. My stomach fluttered at the sound. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“With the touching,” he clarified. “When my wolf wants to curl up with you, how about I hug you? Would that be okay? I’m not asking for a free pass,” he said quickly. “If you don’t want me to touch you one day, just tell me. But in general—"

He looked so embarrassed and uncomfortable I took pity on him. “You do have a free pass, though. You’re my mate.” I shoved him in the shoulder. “Why do you think I don’t want to hug you? I do. All the fucking time. I need touch too.”

It was natural. Wolves touched all the goddamn time around mating, and if I went an hour without touching my mates I got snappy and needy.

Jack looked dubious.

“I mean it,” I said, ducking my head as embarrassment flared in my chest. “I might be a total bitch on the outside, but inside I’m … I’m kind of mushy. Ask Gray if you don’t believe me, he’s seen me break down.”

I couldn’t describe the way he looked at me then, his warm brown eyes churning with something. “Kind of mushy on the inside?” he asked. “That’s why you came to check on me, then.”

I scoffed, my face heating. “I came here to get in your pants.”

He didn’t buy that for a second. My heart stumbled in my chest as he tipped up my face and kissed me. “It’s okay to care about people, Lyra.”

I shook my head, trying to extricate myself from his arms, panicked and aching in a sudden way I couldn’t explain, but he held me closer.

“I get it,” he said, serious as a knife now. “My sister … let’s just say she gave me a few trust issues.”

My panic evaporated. I scowled, planning her murder. Whatever she’d done to him to make him sound that way, I’d make her regret it.

He chuckled. “Is this mate Lyra, or normal Lyra looking like she’s going to track down my sister and hurt her?”

I balked at him being so close to the truth. “Both,” I admitted. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you want to talk about your parents?”

I opened my mouth to shoot down the idea when I realised that—I did.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

Jack held me close, his hand secure on my waist, our hips touching.

And for the first time, I told the full story.

LYRA

I couldn’t sleep that night. At first I thought it was because of how completely strange it was to be in an unfamiliar room with the weight of an arm around me, but that wasn’t keeping me awake. My skin was buzzing. Or something beneath it was. I had pins and needles in my bloodstream. And it was freaking me out.

I slid out from under Jack’s arm, taking the chance to look at him while he slept. His eyelids were a delicate brown shade, and his face was so different while he slept. Relaxed and soft, with no trace of stress, tension, or worry in his features. I couldn’t help but sigh, feeling soft and tender as I looked at him.

But all too soon I remembered how freaked out he was earlier, and the reason why. If that lone wolf had gone for him … Jack was right, I’d have killed him. The way Jack had killed him to protect me. Maybe I was wired wrong, somewhere deep inside, because I was equal parts disturbed at the murder and touched that he’d do that for me.

I took one last glance at him, sleeping on his side, curled around the space where I’d been, and then I slipped out of the door. I half expected Cas to still be up, nursing a drink at the kitchen table while he fretted about ways to keep us safe—there’d been a chance we were already safe, that mating three males would have deterred the rogues, but the wolf today wrecked that hope—but the house was still and quiet. I paused before the kitchen window to let the moon’s rays tingle over my skin and reached out for my mates. They were all sleeping.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to wake someone up and tell them about the buzzing in my veins. I’d put them through enough shit this past week. I definitely didn’t need Cas getting any more anxious. Waking him to tell him this went against my ingrained instincts to protect my mate, even if he happened to be my alpha. Even if it meant keeping a secret from him for a couple hours.

Instead of waking anyone up, I poured myself a glass of sherry—it was all we had in the cupboard—and forced it down, wincing at the taste before I pulled open the kitchen door and trudged outside to the bench. It always calmed me to sit out here, with the hushing of the sea, the cool brush of the wind on my face, and the light of the moon on my skin. I shivered as I sat on the wrought iron, stretching out my jean-clad legs. I had yet to change into pyjamas, thanks to Jack falling asleep with his arms around me. Not that I was complaining. I hadn’t lied earlier; since mating, I needed their touch more and more.

Movement caught my eye by the cliff’s edge and I grinned, spotting a white canine shape trotting over.

“Hey, you,” I said. “You left without saying bye the other night. Kind of a dick move if you ask me.”

The dog paused, sitting and cocking his head to the side before he whined.

“Oh, fine.” I sighed. “I forgive you.” I stretched out my hand for him to sniff; he butted his head under my palm instead. I took the hint and stroked him, laughing as his tail thumped the grass. “Fancy getting up here with me?”

The dog didn’t need telling twice; he clambered up onto the bench, turned around his tail twice, and flopped down with his head on my knee. Almost like he knew what I’d said and understood. I peered at him, a flutter on unease going through me. But the shield let him through. He was just a dog—safe. I stroked down his head and along his back, pleased when his tail wagged continuously.

The tingles in my blood didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Being under the moon was actually inflaming it. The pins and needles grew until my face was hot, until my blood vibrated with the sensation, and I winced, biting my tongue to withstand the pain.

It hurt.

“Sorry, buddy,” I gasped, pushing him off. “I gotta go inside.”

As much as worrying Cas was the last thing I wanted to do … I needed my alpha, my mate.

LYRA

“Lyra?” Cas asked, pulling his door open. He was sleep-bleary, his pale hair stuck up on his head and his silver eyes hazy until they fell on the strained expression on my face and cleared in an instant.

“Cas,” I slurred, weaker with every second. “I feel weird. Wrong.” I tipped forward into his open arms, shuddering with relief when he bound me up tight.

“Do you need a doctor?” he asked, his muscles tense as stone with how much restraint it must have taken him to ask and not simply drag me to see the nearest one.

I gasped as the prickling inside my blood got stronger, whimpering as I pressed my face into his shirt. Along the hall, two doors opened simultaneously. Gray and Jack must have felt it, this wrongness in me.

“Lyra?” Gray asked sharply, rushing towards me.

“I don’t know,” I answered Cas, every word an effort. “Maybe I do need a doctor.”

I swayed, my eyes sliding shut as the world pitched around me. Cas held me tight.

“Talk to me, Lyra. Tell me what it feels like.”

“Like … like needles inside me. Running through … my blood…”

“Shit,” Gray swore. “Shit. What the hell’s wrong with her?”

“Gray,” Jack snapped before Cas could. “Get yourself together. She needs us to be calm, not lose our cool.”

Gray growled, the sound inflaming the boiling in my blood or maybe that was because Cas gathered me up in his arms and set me on his bed, a ray of moonlight falling through his window.

“Shut…” I murmured. “Curtains … moon makes it … worse.” I felt like hell. It wasn’t just the needles in my blood. I felt weak, like I had flu—sick and hot and nauseated. Cas rushed to close the curtains and I whimpered, curling around myself.

The bed dipped beside me and suddenly I was pulled into a bony lap, Gray’s arms winding around me. The pain dipped.

“Feels … better,” I slurred.

“With him holding you?” Jack asked, and I knew his mind was whirring. I kept my eyes screwed shut, battling a wave of sickness, but I felt his weight on the end of the bed. His warm hand rubbed along my calf and up my thigh and the pain eased a bit more. I gasped, the needles receding. My muscles relaxed and I slumped against Gray’s chest, his presence and his warmth a serious comfort.

I heard Cas talking on the phone but a few seconds later, he sat beside me, pulling my hand into his and holding it tight. I shuddered out a breath and breathed, “Shit.”

“Back with us?” Gray asked, gripping my shoulder tight enough to bruise.

“Trying to squeeze me to death?” I joked, my voice a little hoarse. He relaxed his grip instantly, stroking my shoulder instead. I sighed, all the breath leaving my lungs as I slumped fully against him, better now I had Cas’s hand in mine and Jack touching my leg.

“Lyra,” Cas said when he put the phone down. He had his serious alpha voice on but I could still hear his worry. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep because I felt weird, then I went outside. The moon made it worse.” What was it? What was wrong with me? Inexplicably and all at once, I felt like crying.

“You said it felt like needles in your blood.”

I nodded, wishing I hadn’t when my head flared. “It does. Did. Will it come back, if you stop touching me?”

“Let’s not find out,” Gray said sharply. I relaxed further into him, my mate instincts rearing their head since the pain had stopped fogging everything. He was scared—they all were.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to sound calm about it.

Cas lifted my hand, his lips tingling my skin as he kissed the back of my hand. “We’ll figure out what hurts you. I called the doctor.”

I nodded, but I was falling asleep. With them all here, and the pain and tingling gone, my body was realising I’d laid awake for three hours without a single second’s rest. And whatever was happening to me … it was taking a serious toll on my body.

I meant to warn them I was gonna sleep but I drifted off before I could form the words.

CAS

I tried hard to be calm, but something unknown—sinister—threatened my mate and I wanted to react. To act. I wanted to hunt what was hurting her and tear it to pieces. This wasn’t a new urge. It wasn’t mate instinct that made me want to kill what hurts her—I loved her, madly, and had no limits. I wanted to keep her safe, and happy, and I’d do anything for it.

This new threat, these needles in her blood, this pain … I didn’t know what to do. Was it sickness? A curse? Poison? I seethed inside the whole time I held her hand, so gently, like she was glass. My temper got shorter the longer I wait for the doctor to get here.

It was night, and I tried to be forgiving because of it, but where the fuck were they? This was my mate—my mate hurt so badly she had fallen against me, then fallen asleep.

A knock on the main door made me sigh, relief a knife stabbing my chest.

“I’ll get it,” Jack said, murmuring sorry to Lyra’s sleeping form before he let go of her. She whimpered but didn’t wake. My temper, an explosion waiting to happen, snapped more at that sound. But I could not break, not when Gray was pale, his fear strong, and Jack’s hands shook. I would be strong for them.

The doctor was a faerie woman, Marie. Almost thirty, with blonde hair tied away from her face and a green colour to her pale skin. I looked at her as she came through my bedroom door, not letting go of Lyra’s hand for a second. “Thank you for coming,” I said. “I am Casimir Mrozinski.” After a pause, I added, “I phoned you.”

She nodded briskly, watching Lyra. “What happened?”

“My mate, Lyra,” I said, telling myself to be calm, to not let fear into my voice. “She was in pain. She say it is like needles moving in her blood. It hurt less when we touched her and she could fall asleep but…”

Marie nodded, coming close and using her hands to tell us to turn Lyra onto her back. Gray didn’t let Lyra go, stubbornly clinging to her, but I gave a stern look and he released her, scowling. I could tell him Marie would help, that she could heal Lyra’s pain, tell us how to help our mate, but I was not in the mood to explain. It should be common sense.

Gray held her left hand instead while I held her right, both of us watching the doctor check Lyra’s eyes, her wrist, and other parts of her.

“She’s in a restorative sleep,” she told us. “That’s good—her body’s already trying to heal whatever’s wrong with her. As for what that is … there’s no signs of poison, either natural or of magical origin. And I’ve never heard of anything like what you described. You said it was worse in the moonlight?”

I nodded, trying not to grind my jaw.

“Perhaps something linked to her wolf nature, then? I’ll do some research, see if I can narrow down her symptoms to a cause. For now, keep her rested, make sure she eats and has lots of fluids. No alcohol.”

Gray snorted.

“We will follow every instruction,” I said in a hard, pointed tone, giving him a strong look to settle him. I did not want to be too hard though—he was afraid, and I knew that fear well.

Marie nodded. “Keep her out of the moonlight if it exacerbates her symptoms. If she gets headaches or other aches, she could try taking painkillers like paracetamol, but I wouldn’t expect that to touch whatever’s hurting her inside. That seems supernatural in nature.”

She paused on the threshold, her things gathered up and replaced in her bag. “She might feel better when the moon has set. If it doesn’t improve when the sun has risen, call me. I can put her in a temporary healing coma with my power, but I’d rather avoid that.”

I nodded, my stomach sinking to my feet. A healing coma? It was that bad? “Thank you for coming,” I said, and had to use every strength in me to release my mate’s hand. I walked the doctor into the kitchen, pulled a twenty-pound note from my wallet, and handed it over.

Marie shook her head. “You don’t need to pay me. I heal on a voluntary basis—I have the shop to make money.”

The apothecary in Whitby’s centre. I had walked past it before.

I looked at her, steady. “You came in the night. And volunteers need to eat.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” she replied, tucking away the money. “Call me if anything changes, and I’ll come right back.”

I nodded, waiting for her to leave so I could shatter in the quiet of the kitchen. With the door locked behind her, I gripped the edge of the table in both hands and bowed over it, my head hanging.

She had been my mate for three days and I had failed her. My Lyra—hurt so badly her body forced her into sleep to heal. My eyes stung with furious tears but I blinked them away, grinding my teeth.

“Alpha?” Jack asked.

I took a second to compose myself before lifting my head. “Yes?”

Jack looked at me for a long second, worry for Lyra on his own face. “The doctor said she could be fine in the morning.”

“I know,” I said, and cleared my throat when the words come thick with emotion. “I know. She will be fine. I know Lyra—she’ll beat this sickness in hours and be serving drinks at the Moonlight tomorrow.”

Jack forced a laugh. I was glad for the attempt and tried a smile. I swear I’d never been this weak before I mated her—I was alpha, strong, unshakeable. Except for Lyra.

“What do you think it is?” he asked quietly, his eyes on the kitchen floor.

“I don’t know,” I answered just as subdued.

And it would kill me.

LYRA

My mouth was full of grit and sandpaper, my eyes superglued together, and the rest of me felt like it had been buried alive and then dug back up again.

“Son of a bitch,” I rasped, reaching up with bruised-feeling fingers to scrape the sleep off my eyelashes.

“Lyra?” There was a scrape of such raw emotion in his voice that for a second I didn’t recognise my alpha.

“Cas?”

“I’m here,” he replied, his warm hand rubbing my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I snorted, finally getting my eyes to open so I could look at him. I catalogued the signs of stress, my protective instincts pinging. Bloodshot eyes reddened around the bottom. Hair messy from having his hands run through it over and over. His shirt messy and wrinkled, pyjama pants slung low on his hips despite the sun being well up. His mouth red from being bitten in worry, and his nails bitten down to the quick.

“I’ve been better,” I replied, shifting tentatively across in the bed and patting the space beside me. He climbed in without question, sweeping me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest and felt my aches recede, just for a second, at the warm, secure feeling of his big arms around me. “You?”

“I am fine.”

“Try that again, but with a lot less bullshit.”

He sighed, quiet for a second until he said, “I’m worried about you.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “About that. What the hell happened to me last night?”

I startled as his lips pressed to the top of my head. “We don’t know. A doctor came, to check you.” I stiffened, but he quickly added, “We never leave you alone. She did not touch you much.”

I relaxed at the word she. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust men—I obviously did, having three male pack members and mates—but the idea of some stranger examining me made my heart clench up. Statistically, way less predators and assholes were women, and being a woman myself … it felt safer, somehow, having a woman check me over while I slept. I didn’t know how to explain it, this ancient self-protecting instinct. I should have known better, though. Cas wouldn’t let a single bad thing happen to me. “So what did she find?”

“You were deeply asleep. A sleep to restore. Nothing else.” A muscle ticked in his jaw; I ran my finger over the agitation before I could catch myself. But I was his mate now—there was nothing to keep me from touching him. I fanned my fingers across his cheek and he leant into the touch, his eyes falling shut so I could see the blue veins through his pink eyelids. My heart sank at how vulnerable he looked—because of me, even if I hadn’t had any control over the prickling, buzzing from the night before.

“We can ask Rita if it’s something witchy,” I said quietly. “She might be able to sense it in me.”

Cas nodded, his silver eyes fluttering open again. “I will ask Gray to see her.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I will ask Jack to see her.”

“Smart.” I smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his frown. He relaxed instantly, his hands coming to slide through my bed-messy hair as his mouth opened up to me. My body might have been wrecked and battered but it still came alive as Cas kissed me deeply, every brush of his lips against mine sucking the poison of fear from me, every touch and tease of his tongue distracting me in the best way.

Cas made a sound in the back of his throat and broke away. His voice came out serious and unaffected but his flushed cheeks and his glazed over eyes gave him away. “We can not, Lyra. You’re … unwell.”

“I’d have gone with ‘magically fucked up,’” I said with a smirk.

Cas sighed and blessed me with the all-coveted alpha eye roll. I kissed him again just because I could.

“We have a plan: talk to a witch, see if it’s witchy in nature. Stop looking so worried. I’ll be fine.”

At least I hoped I would. Under my bravado, I had no idea, and honestly, it scared the shit out of me. I locked those fears in my mental vault—that dark, twisted Narnia—and ran my palms up Cas’s chest. The rumpled shirt clung to every curve of muscle, the heat of him through the cotton a serious comfort. I sighed, the tension in my shoulders dropping. If that buzzing in my blood came back, I’d deal with it. At least I knew how to fix it now; I just needed all of them to be near me.

“You are trying to distract me,” he said gruffly, though he did brace my hips with his hands, his eyes turning dark as he inhaled deeply. Everything I wanted, needed from him, was right there in my scent, and I watched the effect on him.

“Is it working?”

He just scowled, so I took that as encouragement, leaning up to kiss his throat.

“I should go tell Jack and Gray I’m awake,” I mumbled, pausing to suck on his pulse point. The strangled sound he made fuelled the boiling heat between my legs. But loathed as I was to admit it, this really wasn’t the time.

“Yes,” Cas agreed, a low moan vibrating his throat as I sucked at it.

I sighed, pulling my mouth away. “One more kiss before I do the responsible thing and we start finding answers about my moon sickness?” I paused. “Wait, scratch that. Isn’t that another word for period?”

Cas raised a pale eyebrow. “Why do I know?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “Just kiss me.” I prodded the hard muscle of his broad chest. “And make it a good one.”

Oh, he did.

Careful not to hurt me, he rolled us over so I was under him, my body alive with tingling energy, a current sparking in my blood as he cupped the back of my head. He neared, enough that I could feel the heat of his breath but not his lips on mine, and the anticipation had me on the edge of a shiver.

When his lips met mine, searing hot and heartbreakingly soft, my chest hitched with a gasp. I slid my hands under his shirt, feeling the dip and rise of his muscles as he stretched over me. His tongue swept inside my mouth, kissing me utterly breathless and leaving me needy and gasping.

When he pulled away, it was only to trail kisses down my jaw and sensitive neck. I arched into the touch, covered in goose bumps, wanting his mouth to travel lower but knowing Cas would be stubborn and stop. And he did, right at the top of my vest, laying a kiss right over my heart.

I sighed, deflating. My body was still heated, still desperate for his touch. He took pity on me and pressed another too soft, too chaste kiss to my mouth. “Cas,” I said as he made to climb off and let me up. He paused, sat over my legs. “I love you.”

I didn’t have to think or hesitate or question. I loved him so much and I wanted him to know.

I watched his silver-fire eyes soften until they melted me, his face losing every sharp edge it had ever had. Not even kissing had fully erased his fears but I watched all signs of them disappear now.

I smiled, a little embarrassed at the lingering stare, and clasped his hand in mine. “I mean it.”

He moved slowly, covering my body again, and the kiss he laid on my lips was so tender and sweet it cracked my heart right open, had my eyes prickling with tears. “I love you too, my Lyra,” he said in a voice I’d never heard before. “I would kill any man who tried to touch you.”

“Aw,” I said, pressing a hand to my heart. “Violent and romantic, my two favourite things.”

He snorted, the moment gone. His eyes shone as he looked down at me.

“We have to go do serious things now, don’t we?” I asked, sighing and wondering how I was supposed to calm down. My lady parts were very interested in Cas staying right where he was.

“Yes,” he agreed, looking a lot more like the serious, always worried alpha I knew and loved. He helped me sit up, and then stand, gripping my shoulders when I swayed. He kissed me again, like he couldn’t help himself, then supported me to the door.

“Gray,” I yelled, flinging it open. “Jack! Guess who’s back, fuckers!”

LYRA

My shoulder was still a bit sore from Gray slamming into me and hugging me so hard my bones creaked but I felt stronger in myself. And I walked off the weakness on the way from the cottage into Whitby. Of course, I wasn’t alone. After last night when I’d freaked out all three of my mates, they’d all insisted on coming with when I’d told them I wanted to see the witch myself—get answers myself.

Which was fine. Except we were going to a coven’s house—thanks to Cas phoning the coven elder to get the most knowledgeable help he possibly could for his mate—and witches scared the crap out of me, and Gray was coming along with us. Gray, who couldn’t be trusted to keep from offending a house full of powerful, volatile men and women.

I kept his hand tight in mine, partly so I could squeeze it if he said something dumb and partly because I wanted to reassure him. He was still jumpy thanks to whatever happened to me last night. I caught him looking at me now and gave him what I hoped was an easy smile.

“You alright?”

He squeezed my hand, watching me carefully as I began descending the hundred-and-ninety-nine steps into Whitby’s heart, like I was about to fall to my death. “Fine,” he said with a crooked grin. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got my mate with me and we’re having a family day out.”

“To ask a coven of witches for help,” I reminded him.

Gray shrugged, incorrigible.

The coven lived in a big, blocky house overlooking the other side of the bay. My stomach twisted as we got closer, every fear I’d ever had about witches playing through my head. We were going to willingly walk into a house full of people who could manipulate the elements and Gods only knew what else. When the building was visible, I tensed up, one impulse away from turning and running halfway across town.

Cas sensed my nerves, of course, turning to give me a steadying look. “We’re with you,” he said, and that was all it took for me to put on my big girl pants, straighten my spine, and follow Jack up the path to the house. My heart still raced as he pressed the doorbell, sprinting hard as we waited for someone to answer.

The door opened with a dramatic swoosh, and there stood a guy around my age dressed in a sheer black kimono and tight leather pants, his golden chest bare. Crystals hung around his neck and a feather dangled from his messy brown hair. Kohl lined his eyes in a straighter line than I’d ever managed to accomplish and a silver ring glinted from his eyebrow as he lifted it in question.

He looked, inexplicably, like my sort of person. Someone I’d see at one of Gray’s gigs, or in the spiritualist shop across town, stockpiling incense and the awesome killer dragon figurines they had in the window. Or my favourite—dark unicorns. I still hoped someone would get me one for my birthday, two years after I’d mentioned them.

His appearance put me at ease enough to say, “I’m Lyra Ripley. Your coven’s expecting me?” I didn’t mean to word it as a question but his gaze had started to slide over my mates in a sharp, assessing way and I suddenly felt unsure.

“The wolves?” he drawled, returning his attention to me. “Better come in, then.” His kimono flounced as he led us down a dark hallway into a richly decorated sitting room, waving a hand at a damask sofa. “I’ll tell Claudette you’re here. Have fun.”

My throat tightened at those parting words, my eyes darting around the room as panic reclaimed me. I expected hexes in the china cabinet and crystal balls and potions on the fireplace along with family photos. I couldn’t explain why witches scared me so much, but it was impossible to escape now I was in a house full of them.

“Lyra,” Cas said in a low voice, pressing his hand to my back. “You do not need to fear.”

I knew that. I knew my alpha could protect me, and if I’d stop being so stupid and scared, I could protect myself. But fear blinds the bravest warrior.

I settled on the sofa between Cas and Jack, Gray’s hand stretching across Jack to touch my back. I felt better, more in control of my emotions, so I didn’t flinch or bolt in panic when a scary older woman walked into the room. She looked like every headmistress I’d ever had, her black hair scraped into a bun and her face hawk-like. She wore a long dress in a shade of blue so dark it was near black, and a string of symbols hung from her neck, the only jewellery she wore.

“The mother, maiden, and crone,” she said, noticing my attention on her middle pendant. It looked more like a moon cycle to me, but I just nodded politely. She spoke with a cool, arched voice, and I got a superior, better-than-everyone sense from her. “You’re the wolf?”

I nodded, swallowing hard as she peered into my eyes like she could see my soul. Gray rubbed my back and my tight lungs released enough for me to draw a breath.

“Hmm.” She studied me in a way that made me feel small, and I felt Cas bristle but I nudged him. We needed to know if the needles thing was magic or witchy in nature, and if it was we needed a way to fix it.

“Tell me the problem. Explain what happened,” Claudette said in a sharp command that made me think she was used to getting her way. Or having everyone follow her instructions to the letter. I didn’t like her, but I never did like authority and my teachers had pretty much dreaded the lessons they’d had with me.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said hesitantly, encouraged by Cas’s hand folding around mine. “I had this feeling, like something buzzing in my blood. It was … weird, but it didn’t hurt then. So I went outside, and in the moonlight, it was worse. A lot worse. It felt like there were needles stabbing me from the inside out, and it hurt.” It stung like a bitch, but I minded my manners with this cold hawk of a witch staring me down. “The prickling got worse, and the pain built, until I felt really dizzy. And then I passed out,” I added, unsure, glancing to Cas. I wasn’t present for the last bit, my mind blurred with pain.

“She fell into a restorative sleep,” Cas explained, any emotion flattened from his voice and the words rehearsed, as if he’d wanted to get them exactly right. I squeezed his hand. “I called a doctor but she did not find anything wrong.”

Claudette nodded, her tight dark bun not budging an inch, not even one strand floating into her face. “You suspect magic or witchcraft.”

Cas nodded.

“It wasn’t normal,” I added, and wished I hadn’t when her eyes flashed to me. “I’ve never felt anything like it,” I went on, glancing at my hands. “Not when I shift, not any time before or after, and the moon doesn’t usually hurt me. It usually makes things … clearer. Sharper.”

“Explain,” Claudette instructed.

I glanced up. “In the moon, my senses get enhanced. I can hear clearer, see sharper, and sense my pack. It’s a normal wolf thing. But what happened last night wasn’t anything like that.”

Claudette nodded. “That, I suspect, is because you are not a wolf.”

Silence, for a long beat.

“Beg pardon,” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure I am.” All thoughts of respect and restraint flew out the window. “I’ve been a wolf my whole life. I shift at the full moon with my pack. I’m a werewolf.”

“Hmm. You couldn’t shift now?”

“No,” I exclaimed and the same time Cas said, “That isn’t possible for wolves.”

Claudette tilted her head, a quick swoop. “As I have said, Lyra is not a wolf. So I repeat, could you shift now? Try it?”

I just stared open-mouthed at the witch. She was mad. Completely batty.

“Try it,” she repeated. “What would it hurt?”

I laughed, but shrugged. I didn’t start the changing process—the moon did that, its light and power over me—but I shut my eyes and envisioned myself turning into a wolf the way I sensed she wanted me to. Nothing happened, except maybe a bit of indigestion. I opened my eyes. “Happy?”

Her mouth pressed into a flat line that made my stomach flip. I suddenly wished I’d kept the attitude on lock down. “You’re not even trying, Lyra.” She sounded disappointed in me. It was unexpectedly unpleasant.

“So,” I said carefully, “you think the needles in my blood was because I’m not actually a werewolf.”

Claudette nodded. “Yes.”

I blinked.

“Thank you for your help,” Cas said, standing. Clearly he thought this witch was as nutty as I did. Good. I didn’t even want to contemplate not being a wolf. It was who I was. My whole life revolved around being a wolf—my upbringing, my parents, my pack. All of them were wolves. And so was I.

I had to be.

“You don’t believe me,” she sighed, disappointed in him now. Ouch. Cas’s head dipped a fraction. “Fine. But I’m not wrong. You, Lyra, are not a wolf. You’re something else. A fae with an animal form, a shifter, something else.”

The blood drained from my face, and I wanted to get out of there ASAP. I shot to my feet. Heading for the door with my pack around me.

“Lyra,” Claudette said as I reached for the door. “Your symptoms aren’t because of witchcraft or magic cast on you. It’s something inside you.”

“I think I’ve had enough of your insight for one day,” I muttered, twisting the doorknob and hauling the stained-glass door open. I sprinted down the steps and onto the pavement, my breathing quick and short. Panic gripped me so quickly and strongly that a pain spiked in my chest. I couldn’t get a single breath and my head was starting to feel fuzzy and strange.

Arms folded around me, hands rubbing my back, and then Gray’s voice in my ear said, “You’re okay. Fuck her, Lyra. She doesn’t know anything.”

“She’s—she’s—coven elder,” I wheezed, the tightness in my chest getting worse. I couldn’t inhale even a trickle of air. My head fell against his chest, dizzy.

“Shh,” he said calmly. “You’re alright. You’re safe, there’s nothing to be scared of.” I wanted to shoot back that I wasn’t scared but I was. I really was. “Close your eyes,” he said, and he was so calm and assured that I did. “Ignore everything except what I’m saying, forget that bitch. Listen. Can you feel me breathing?”

He inhaled slowly, then breathed out. I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut and so embarrassed that I was freaking out.

“Mirror my breathing,” Gray said, rubbing my back. “Come on, you’ve got this. You’re safe now, nothing bad’s gonna happen. As if we’d let anything happen to you. Cas’d beat anything that tried to hurt you black and blue.”

I nodded, following his breathing and ignoring the way my own hitched and shook. A little more than a trickle of air inflated my lungs, and my shoulders dropped as the rest of me relaxed. My next breath came steadier, the next easier, and with Gray’s calm instructions and his hand rubbing my back, I found my way out of the panic.

“Better?” he asked, pulling back to look at me.

I nodded, averting my eyes. Mortified. “Where’d you learn to do that?” I grumbled.

“My mum has anxiety attacks,” he replied, pushing a lock of black hair from my face. “I’ve had them before, too.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, slinging an arm around my waist as I looked at Jack and Cas, hovering nearby and looking apprehensive. Great. I’d terrified my mates for the second time in less than twelve hours. It was going well.

“I’m sorry,” I said miserably.

“Shut up,” Jack said, so seriously than I laughed. “I mean it. You shouldn’t be apologising.”

“No,” Cas agreed. “We should not bring you here.”

I shrugged. “Can we just … not talk about it?”

Cas leant down to kiss my cheek. “Talk about what?”

I smiled, not having the energy to make it into a grin. “Are we going to the Moonlight?” To be fair, the pub should have been open already, but with everything going on … low takings were the least of our problems. But the normal routine of pulling pints would help settle me—I needed it right now.

Cas nodded. Jack looked relieved.

“Come on,” Gray said, pulling me along the pavement. “We look like delinquents, loitering here.”

LYRA

“So,” I said as we walked past the amusements on the river, the smells of candy floss, battered cod, and saltwater in the air. “We still have no idea what’s going on inside me.”

I gave a passing glance to Old Jacqui’s tent, wondering if the old goat would have any answers for me, but the sign in front said she was out for lunch. Which was a blatant lie. Jacqui had died in the 1800s and was as dead as a gravestone; she didn’t eat lunch. She was probably conning some poor tourist out of their jewellery. She had a weakness for jet and opals.

“We’ll find answers,” Jack replied with a confidence I couldn’t echo. He probably thought he’d find the answer in one of his big, stuffy books or on the History Channel. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did.

I just nodded, watching the activity of Whitby around me. I thought I caught a glimpse of movement to our left, a white blur, but when I looked there was nothing there. I was seeing things. God knows I’d had enough stress in the past few days to give me delusions. I pressed closer to Gray and his arm tightened around my shoulders as he pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For earlier, with the breathing.”

The corner of his mouth turned up, his hazel eyes gentle. “No problem. It’s my job to look after you.” His smile turned into a full-out grin. “My mate.”

“Not that you’re smug about it.” I snorted. Warmth spread through my chest.

“Cas,” Jack said suddenly, the tone of his voice making my head snap up and my nostrils flare.

“Gray, take Lyra to the Moonlight,” Cas said in the cold voice that made my skin prickle with danger. I threw my gaze around the street, the restaurant we were just passing and the sweep of Bridge Street over the river, the gaggle of tourists crowding around a souvenir stall. My senses prickled as I spotted a man moving quickly across the bridge under the shadow of seagulls, his hair so blonde it caught the light like a beacon. Supernatural, my instincts told me. Not a wolf, but his eyes were locked on our little group as we paused.

I unsheathed the knife I’d brought out with me today, a double-edged silver dagger with a clear gem that probably wasn’t diamond embedded in the handle. I’d paid a tenner for it but she was my new baby, and she was hardly used and well taken care of. I’d sharpened her this morning, so I knew the blade would cut easily through skin and cartilage.

“Gray! Lyra!” Cas barked, turning to face the blond man as he began to run at us.

“No way am I leaving you to fight that guy,” I snapped. “No way in hell, Casimir.”

His eyes flashed but he didn’t turn away from the man running at us. He was a mere few meters away now and I didn’t know what he was going to do. We were in public—a souvenir seller and tourists were a few feet away for God’s sake! It wasn’t like we could murder this guy and drag him off the way I’d done at the abbey.

“Cas?” I asked. “Should we be doing this here?”

“No,” he replied—and then the guy was on him.

Cas ducked as the blond threw a punch, and my blood boiled. I opened my mouth and snarled, my wolf fully behind the sound. How dare this bastard attack my mate! I lurched forward, knife in hard, not caring a bit about the tourist witnesses, but a weight slammed into me from behind and I went flying.

I cried out as the knife slid from my fingers, skidded across the tarmac, and I landed hard on my hands and knees, the impact shooting up my wrists. Before I could even begin to react, a weight fell on me, pressing my chin into the cool, hard ground. Stones bit into my skin and I flinched at the sting of abrasions, for a second so stunned that I was flattened to the ground to even remember to fight. Gray snarled loudly but the sound tapered into a whimper that cut through my shock-sluggish blood with icy fear. No. Not my Gray. Not any of my mates.

“Get—the fuck off me—” I growled, bucking and fighting to get the weight off my back. The bastard was fucking pinning me, and it was agony, tearing and howling at my chest, to hear the blonde fighting Cas and Jack. And Gray … silent.

My parents murders flashed behind my eyes, and then Gray being killed with that same Wolf Bone Sword. I’ve lost him, I’ve lost him like I lost my mum and my dad and my pack—

I couldn’t breathe. I tasted blood in the back of my throat.

The asshole holding me to the ground pushed my face harder into the tarmac and fury roared through me at the helpless position. I wasn’t a damsel. I was a wolf.

In a second, rage burned through the panic, pushed it aside so I could scrape a breath into my lungs. The air tasted of iron and brine and, incongruously, freshly made doughnuts from further down the road.

I wanted to shift, the way Claudette thought I could. I wanted whatever magic was inside me to explode and incinerate my attacker. But nothing happened, no matter how hard I pulled at my inner wolf. Because I was restrained? Scared? I grew weak from resisting, my wrists pulsing where I’d fallen on them and my breathing short.

I was terrified, but a different sort of fear to the panic I’d felt leaving the coven’s house. Now I was scared for my life, and worse—scared what this man would do to me. Hurt me? Abduct me the way the wolves had tried to before?

And my mates—my mates. I was going to lose them. They’d be hurt, killed, and I couldn’t—

No. I wouldn’t accept that. Never again would I lay in the dirt while the people I loved were killed. I wasn’t small and powerless anymore.

“Get off her!” Jack’s ragged shout, breaking over the steady lap of the river and the grunts on the bridge, told me he was alive at least, but my heart thumped to hear him sound so scared. It strengthened me.

I sagged, letting the asshole holding me down think I’d given up. When he heaved me up and banded his arms around my chest to restrain me, I stepped hard on his instep, brought my elbow to his stomach as hard as I could, and when he grunted and staggered back, I spun, reared my leg back, and kneed him in the balls as hard as I could.

He went down with a howl, and I got my first look at my attacker. Long, wavy brown hair, a flat, squashed kind of face, and eyes currently gleaming with pain. I kicked him in the nuts again for good measure and retrieved my knife from the ground.

“Gray,” I breathed, dropping beside him. He was curled up on the pavement, bright red blood spattered across the ground. Not a life-threatening pool of blood but still, the sight of it sent me wild. “Gray. Gray, look at me. Open your eyes.” I cupped his face, stroking his cheek and urging him to wake up. His eyes opened blearily and he groaned, his hazel-green eyes dull with pain. I was going to murder whoever these bastards were. His eyes flared wide with panic and I turned just in time for a third attacker—a tall, skinny woman with a ruby-red ponytail—to grab a fistful of my hair.

“Bitch,” I spat, bringing my dagger up in a smooth arc as close to her hand as possible. I shaved off the ends of my hair but it wasn’t a great loss compared to my mate crumpled up on the floor. “Who the fuck are you people?”

Silent and stoic like an emotionless soldier, she lashed out at me with a fist and I ducked, avoiding the blow but leaning right into another. She hit me in the ribs hard enough to stop my breathing and I grunted out a curse. She reared her fist back to strike again—briefly, I wondered why she wasn’t trying to kill me, just roughing me up—but a blur of white flew through the air and connected with her body, knocking her away from me.

I gaped, wheezing and wincing at the pain crackling through my ribs. A dog had locked onto the woman I mentally thought of as Scarlet Bitch, its jaws gnashing down on her leg hard enough that I heard teeth and bone grate. She howled with fury, trying to hit at the dog, but he twisted his teeth in her thigh and she screamed, falling to the ground.

Gray, I pleaded, reaching for him with our telepathic link. Gray, talk to me. Please. I need you, I need to hear you, please—

The dog—my dog, my night-time visitor—rose onto its hind legs and a flash of silver light wrapped around him. I blinked, blinked again, but nope, I wasn’t seeing things. Where my canine friend had stood, now there was a man. Unearthly beautiful, tall and willowy and dressed in deep green leathers. He looked like fucking Legolas, and I half expected him to make a bow and arrow appear from the ether but instead he just started towards me, his elegant face taut with concern and his eyes black and soulful. The same damn eyes. He had the same eyes as the white dog, and I couldn’t deny it. The man and the dog—they were the same person.

I’m alive, Gray’s voice came distantly, as if through thick water, and my face crumpled. I covered it with both hands, tears sliding down my face. I’m fine, darling wolf, he said. I’m okay. Bastard just knocked me out. Lyra. His voice softened. It’s alright, you don’t need to be scared for me.

I growled, the sound echoing both through my mind and my throat.

“Are you alright?” the shifter asked, his voice as beautiful as his looks. I shoved the last of the tears away, dropped my hands, and glared at him. I was a werewolf—shifting wasn’t alien to me—but he’d been a dog. I’d stroked him, let him cuddle up with me on my bench. And he’d been a man all that time? An elegant, strikingly hot man?

I swallowed, narrowing my eyes at him and stepping subtly left so I covered Gray who was struggling valiantly to get up despite whatever injury had dropped him. “You’re a dog. You’re meant to be a dog—and you’re—what?”

“A shifter,” he answered, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you. But these people will do worse. I’m here to help.”

And with that he ran for the end of the bridge where Jack and Cas had just about managed to get the blond attacker under control. With my dog’s help—no, that just sounded weird, I couldn’t think of him like that. With the stranger’s help, they got him down and knocked him out on the bridge’s pavement. People craned their necks as they drove past, no doubt going to be posting about us on Facebook when they got home. By now I was sure the tourists had called the police; they’d fled the second a fight broke out. The souvenir guy had even packed up his stall and rolled it away.

“Gray,” I breathed, helping him prop himself up against the wall of the restaurant behind him. “Are you alright?” My instincts were wild, vibrating inside me like an earthquake about to go off. I kissed his cheek, his forehead, his eyelids as they drifted shut. “Tell me you’re alright. Where are you hurt?”

“Stop mothering me,” he grumbled even as he squeezed my hip. I nearly fucking collapsed as comfort lanced through me at that touch. “I’ll live. Go check on the others.”

I wanted to argue but I needed to see Jack and Cas. I needed to, the bond physically pulling me to them. If I didn’t go to them, I’d be torn apart inside, ripped into shreds. I was already shaking, my hands a blur. I needed to touch them, to know they were okay.

Holding onto Gray, I leant close and kissed him. It was the gentlest kiss I’d ever had. I didn’t want to hurt him but I needed to feel him. His thumb skimmed my cheek as I drew back, and for the longest moment he just looked at me as I gazed back at him. I felt my shaking stop as I accepted he wasn’t dying on me.

“I’m alright,” he said finally, dropping his hand. Promise.

I nodded, gave Gray a last, searching look—he was steadier, even if he was pale and his ego had taken a beating—and I faltered. My heart racing faster, I scanned the ground where I’d left the brown-haired guy, and where Scarlett Bitch had fallen, screaming, after the dog took a bite out of her leg. Gone. Both of them.

“Lyra,” Jack called, and I turned, my breaths short. They’d gone, escaped, we’d lost them. And how long would it be before they came for us again? I met my mate’s eyes and, panicking as I was, there was no force in this world that could stop the need to be in his arms.

I bolted across the road towards where Jack and Cas had trussed up the blond asshole with Cas’s belt. I kept running until I fell into Jack’s arms, hugging him tight. He held me close enough to bruise, to make me a permanent addition to his body, his hands trembling against my back. The sound of his heartbeat under my ear relaxed me a fraction, and as Cas came over and demanded to know if I was okay, I calmed even more. The lava in my veins slowed and turned back to blood, and the energy stilled until I felt weak and empty.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled. I wasn’t. My ribs ached like hell and I hurt where my wrists had absorbed the impact of my fall, and that was nothing compared to the remnants of panic for my mates’ lives. But I wasn’t about to worry Cas any more by telling him that. “Are you okay?” I squeezed Jack, pulling back to look at him. “Jack? Cas? Seriously. Are you? I need to know. I need to hear it.”

“Shh,” Cas breathed, running a hand over my head and down my hair. “We’re fine, Lyra. You can calm, now. We’re okay.”

Like those were the magic words, my instincts released me and I sagged.

“So,” I said after a long moment. “Do we address the canine in the room?”

The man in question cleared his throat awkwardly. “I have a lot to explain to you.”

“Yeah,” I said, turning to glare at him. “Like how you managed to trick our shields into letting you near the cottage.”

His black eyes flickered with confusion. Either he was a really good actor or he had no fucking clue what I was on about.

“So you didn’t tamper with them, damage them at all?” I exhaled, relieved. “Good. But how did you get through?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know there were protections on your house. Although … it explains why these three waited until you ventured into the open to attack you. It makes more sense strategically to corner you in your house.”

I opened my mouth to tell them that our attackers had escaped but Gray spoke before I could.

“Okay, psychopath,” he sniped, limping over to us. I stretched out my arm until he took my hand, a gnarly part in my heart soothing. A quiet, rapid conversation took place between us, this one without words, without telepathy. His hazel eyes asked if I was okay, I nodded that I was, and the soft glance he gave me next assured me everything would be okay. But out loud he only asked, “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Um,” I replied, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “He’s sort of a dog I befriended. Also a shifter. Who can pass the spell around the cottage.”

“Well shit,” Gray exhaled, which about summed up my day, my week, and my whole life.

Well, shit indeed.

I hope you enjoyed Hounded! The next book releases tomorrow!

Here’s the release schedule:

Mated ➜ 20th August

Hounded ➜ 21st August

Empowered ➜ 22nd August

Descended ➜ 23rd August

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EMPOWERED: MOONLIGHT INN BOOK 3

The problems are mounting for Lyra and her mates in book three of the seductive Moonlight Inn series. With a new power filling her blood and questions surrounding her parents and her past, the last thing Lyra needs is for a fluke of magic to send her into certain danger. And worse: without her pack.

Empowered is the third book in a new reverse harem urban fantasy romance series. Expect sexy scenes, supernatural dangers, and tender romance. Welcome to the Moonlight.

GET IT HERE

One woman. Her vampire lovers. A fight against ancient evil.

When Elara Wood wakes up in a house of strangers—gentle Allen, sultry Scarlett, and Finn, the once-fae protector—she’s forced to accept a new diet, a new set of instincts, and a new life. Vampires are real, and after a violent attack, Elara has been turned.

As she recovers with the help and touch of her new friends, a long-dead house of vampires is reviving, and they have wicked plans for her. When an ancient fae god, an elite of vampire hunters, and a shadowy Mistress all set Elara in their sights, can her new lovers protect her?

A full-length novel. This is the complete Vampire Game reverse harem paranormal romance series. This book collects Vampire Game, Vampire Touch, Vampire Legacy – and an exclusive 75-page story not found anywhere else! Expect sexy scenes, supernatural dangers, and tender romance. Welcome to the Blood Bay.

Get it here!

Leigh Kelsey is the author of sweet and steamy books for anyone with a soft spot for steely women and the tortured men who love them. No matter what stories she’s writing – vampires or shifters or rebels – they all share a common thread of romance, heart, and action. Leigh also writes new adult and young adult books under the name Saruuh Kelsey.

Find these other books by Leigh Kelsey!

All free on Kindle Unlimited

Vampire Game series

Vampire Game

Vampire Touch

Vampire Legacy

The Complete Series (w/ exclusive 75-page story!)

Moonlight Inn series

Mated

Hounded

Empowered

Descended

Kindred (September)

Seven Nights In Hell series

Unbound

Frozen

Tainted

Ruthless (Coming soon)