Wild Moon: A Rejected Mate Romance Read online

Page 5


  I shifted uncomfortably at the sight of so many men all together. There were at least ten of them. A particularly loud laugh had me backing up a few steps and debating whether I should come back later.

  Flashbacks cycled through my brain of the games Alistair and his betas used to play with me…the way they tortured me for fun.

  “What do you want?” an exasperated voice barked. “The hair salon’s down the street.”

  My insides hackled at his tone. I looked to the side and saw an older man, maybe in his early sixties. He stared at me under shaggy, grizzled eyebrows, his brown eyes full of disdain and annoyance. His brown hair was frizzy and liberally streaked with grey, and it was badly in need of a trim. He was wearing grease streaked grey overalls over a stained white tee that had seen better days. The man would have been intimidating enough with his gaze alone, but the fact that he was a giant…at least six foot five or six, had me shaking in my boots.

  “My car,” I squeaked, unable to look him in the eyes. I had no idea where my wolf sat on the whole dominant-submissive spectrum since I’d obviously never met her, but Alistair had instilled in me the notion that you didn’t look a man in the eye.

  It was a habit I was trying to break.

  He looked around. “Is your car invisible?”

  I looked at him, puzzled.

  “I don’t see a car,” he said as if I was slow, gesturing around me.

  I laughed nervously, spotting it in one of the garages behind him and gesturing to it. “It’s that one.”

  “That piece of shit? That’s not going anywhere any time soon. You make a habit of running into trees?”

  I scoffed, caught between wanting to defend myself and wanting to cower from the anger that was inexplicably laced through this guy’s body. Was there something in the water here that had these random strangers biting my head off, or was it just me?

  The snarl of a motorcycle distracted me from the retort that was on the tip of my tongue. The man looked behind me at whoever was driving up and straightened his shoulders, puffing his chest out as if he needed to impress the newcomer.

  I turned around as the engine shut off…and my jaw dropped.

  There was a golden god in front of me looking like he’d just dropped down from the heavens. Hazel eyes flecked with gold were framed by dark long lashes that any woman would be envious of. But there was nothing feminine about this guy. His hair itself was like spun gold, each thread falling effortlessly to frame his tanned face. He was sitting on his bike, loosely holding onto the handlebars. I found myself staring at his fingers and wondering how I could find even those hot. They were long but strong looking, his fingernails pink and smooth, with half-moons near the cuticles. My eyes wandered up his arm next, to the hint of a strong forearm that disappeared into the sleeve of his leather jacket, because of course the hot guy had to be wearing a leather jacket on top of everything else. I watched his hand as it moved up to rub his chin as he stared at me curiously. His nose was straight and aquiline, his lips were perfectly formed and parted slightly.

  I was having trouble not swooning.

  An image of the dark-haired asshole with his girlfriend from the day before danced across my brain. This guy could even rival him in looks, even though they were complete opposites. My body would probably burst into flames if I ever got into the same room as the both of them.

  My vagina was praying for it to happen.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled, and I found that my panties were suddenly feeling a bit damp. I shifted nervously in place again. I felt pinned in place by his intense gaze. It was dancing all over me like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to look at. His hand moved from his chin to his bottom lip, and all I could think about was what his lips would taste like.

  I shook my head, becoming aware again of the grumpy old guy still standing behind me. I could feel his irritation growing the longer I stood there, so I lamely waved at the hot Adonis before turning back around to deal with my car problem.

  “When you say ‘not any time soon,’ how long exactly is that?” I asked, my gaze flicking to my car, which somehow looked even worse today.

  The grump rolled his eyes once again and opened his mouth, I’m sure to deliver another stinging remark about my driving abilities.

  “You giving this pretty girl a hard time, North?” the stranger asked, his smooth voice sending delicious shivers down my spine. Something stirred inside of me, and I froze in place, not recognizing the feeling.

  Rude guy, aka North apparently, growled at the guy’s question. The sound reverberated through me, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Did normal humans growl like that? He almost sounded wolf-like. I laughed at the thought, thinking that was preposterous.

  I heard movement behind me, and I shuffled to the side so that I could see both of the men at the same time. One thing you’re taught as a wolf shifter, even a latent one like me, was that you watched your flank. These were definitely two men that you watched out for.

  Golden god slid off his black Harley with ease. His shirt slid up with his movement, showcasing a sliver of hard muscle, the same golden shade as the rest of him. Ugh, he was beautiful.

  “North?” the man questioned, standing up to his full height which was almost as tall as North was. But there was something in his voice, a thread of authority that was missing in North’s. It made me want to offer my neck to him in submission…

  What the hell? That was a strange thought. That funny feeling happened again, like something was coming to life in my chest. I rubbed my chest absentmindedly as I continued to stare at the two of them.

  There was a tick in North’s cheek as he held the gaze of the other man. A low growl erupted from the golden guy’s throat, and I watched, entranced, as he lowered his gaze.

  I was imagining this, right? Maybe this was how the real world worked for everyone—alpha males struggling for dominance.

  I shook my crazy thoughts away. Alistair had been fanatical about the threat of other packs. Their location and size had been meticulously kept track of. One of the reasons I was driving in this part of the country in the first place was because there were no packs around here. My brain was just imagining things, trying to find the familiar in the unfamiliar.

  Right?

  “I was in the process of helping her when you interrupted, Daxon,” North finally retorted in a gravelly voice. Daxon… I liked that name. It was unique and beautiful. Just like him.

  I couldn’t help but snort, and both of them looked at me. One gaze filled with amusement, the other filled with disgust. He had totally been “helping me.” Insert eye roll.

  “Your ride acting up again?” North asked, his gaze practically caressing Daxon’s ride. I didn’t blame him for the way he looked like he wanted to make babies with Daxon’s Harley. Even I thought the bike was gorgeous. And I knew nothing about motorcycles.

  “Something’s wrong with the clutch again,” Daxon said on a sigh, glancing down at the bike with frustration.

  “Johnson,” North barked, and a tattooed beast of a man strolled out of the garage, wiping his grease covered hands on a dirty rag. He gave me a wink as he walked up to us, his gaze sauntering up my body and making me blush with the clear connotation he was giving me.

  A low growl filled the air, and I glanced at Daxon, who was glaring at Johnson like he’d punched his grandma. Johnson immediately stopped looking at me and took a step back nervously.

  Interesting.

  “Take a look at Daxon’s clutch. Make sure it’s fixed this time,” North snapped exasperatedly.

  This guy really was not a people person.

  “Sure thing…” Johnson hesitated, his gaze twitching to me. “Daxon.”

  These people were kind of weird.

  “It’s going to be maybe two months to get it fixed, if we can get all the parts we need quickly. And that’s if we open the hood and everything isn’t destroyed,” North announced, staring at my car as if it personally offended him. “I’l
l tell you right now that it’s not worth fixing though. The thing’s a piece of trash.”

  I ignored his last statement. “And how much do you think it’s going to cost?” I asked, dread infused in my voice. The guy yesterday had said thousands, but maybe he’d been wrong.

  “More money than it’s worth,” North drawled. “Around ten thousand, give or take a few a thousand.”

  “Ten thousand dollars?” I asked, feeling faint. I stumbled backwards, and a strong pair of hands suddenly steadied me. For a second, I leaned into their warmth before realizing it was Daxon holding me. How had he gotten behind me so fast?

  Men were not allowed to touch me. Especially strange men. I darted forward as if his hands had burned me, ignoring the decidedly pleasant sensation I’d actually experienced at his touch.

  When I turned around, a little ashamed at my reaction to normal human touch, Daxon was studying me intensely, a puzzled look on his face as he did so.

  “It’s going to take me some time to earn that kind of money,” I admitted to North. “But I just got a job at the diner down the street. I’ll be saving every penny.”

  North shook his head in disgust. “I’m not in the business of charity, lady. I’m not like the rest of these fools that can be distracted by a pretty face. Take your car and get the hell out of here,” he snarled.

  Despite the fact he’d just metaphorically kicked me in the gut, something inside me warmed at the insinuation that I was pretty. I hadn’t felt pretty…not in years. Even coming from someone who had the jerk title firmly won…it kind of felt good.

  I was pathetic.

  “I’ll spot her when it’s ready,” Daxon said casually, as if it was no big deal that he’d offered to help a complete stranger.

  “Of course,” North spit under his breath.

  I stared at Daxon in shock…and suspicion. “I—Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.” Shaking my head at him, I turned my attention back to North. “This wouldn’t be a charity case. You said I have a few months. If you could just work on it slowly while I save the money.” I told him, determination leaking into my voice as I straightened my shoulders and tried to look fierce…or dependable. One of the two.

  North stared at me for a long moment, something shifting behind his gaze. “I’ll put it as a last priority. But if you don’t have the full amount by the time it’s done…” He growled loudly, shaking his head as he stormed away.

  My bravado dropped as soon as he wasn’t looking at me. I was going to have to sell plasma or something. There was no way I could earn that kind of money at the diner, not even if I turned out to be the most amazing waitress on earth. Something I seriously doubted I would be…

  “Hey,” Daxon said gently, touching my cheek softly, making me flinch once again.

  “Please don’t touch me,” I whispered, frustration clogging my words.

  He held up his hands. “We’re a little bit friendly around here. It’s just a habit. I won’t do it again. Not unless you ask.”

  I tried to hide my swoon when he winked at me. Was he hitting on me?

  “What’s your name?” he asked, cocking his head and giving me a flirty grin. The guy could smile. My ovaries were working overtime just looking at him do it.

  I hesitated before giving it to him. That feeling in my stomach was on overdrive as I stared at him.

  “Rune,” I finally answered.

  “Rune,” he said softly, as if he was savoring the taste of my name. The way he said it sent images of rumpled sheets, soft sighs, a heaviness between my thighs.

  “You okay?” he questioned, cutting off the highly inappropriate and out of character daydream I was having standing there.

  I blushed what I was sure was a thousand shades of red. “I have to go,” I blurted, turning around and practically bolting away.

  “We’ll talk about the loan!” I yelled over my shoulder, well aware of his gaze all over my skin and the amused smile on his face that I desperately wanted to take a picture of.

  The men in this town were going to be a hazard to my health. Just in a different way from how Alistair was.

  Men, I thought disgustedly under my breath as I darted around the corner, finally out of his line of sight.

  This town was turning out to be more than I’d bargained for.

  I was itching to run. I’d been on the track team in middle school and high school, and it had been one of my favorite things to do. The rush of runner’s high, the breeze floating past your face, the ability to forget your problems with every step. I’d loved everything about it. Alistair had quickly put a stop to it, deciding that it would bring too much temptation for me, but now that he wasn’t around…

  I laced up my sneakers. After I’d escaped, they had been the second thing I’d bought after my now defunct car. Tonight would be my first run, and I already could taste the inner Zen I was about to experience.

  Waving at Carrie, who looked strangely worried as I slipped out the door, I set off down the sidewalk.

  And immediately regretted every single bag of potato chips I’d consumed on my little road trip. As a latent wolf, I didn’t have the metabolism I would have had if Alistair, my alpha, had released my wolf. It was a small thing compared to everything else, but I was definitely raging about it as I huffed and puffed down the sidewalk, looking more like a beached barracuda than the graceful gazelle I liked to think I’d once resembled.

  It was still daylight outside, so I felt comfortable taking the road that led down to the river, and maybe the view would distract me from how hard I was breathing. I still couldn’t get over the beauty of this place. I didn’t know how they managed to stay so under the radar. I watched as a freaking bald eagle soared just a few feet away.

  Magical.

  After a measly twenty-minute run where every step felt far from the runner’s high I’d once been familiar with, I finally had to stop and catch my breath. My heart was racing out of control, and I decided that tomorrow, I’d be asking Carrie for some egg whites and saying no to the chocolate donuts.

  Except that donut had been so freaking good.

  My musings about the pros and cons of Doritos and chocolate donuts were cut off by a low growl just off to my left. I froze, my heart racing even more as a sable colored wolf stepped into view out of the tree line that lined the river trail. It just stared at me for a moment before its lips curled back to expose pearl white fangs.

  It only flashed its teeth for a second, but it was enough to give me a small heart attack. I stumbled backwards as it sat down on its haunches and cocked its head, staring at me a little too intelligently.

  “Nice doggy,” I whispered, continuing to back up while keeping eye contact the entire time.

  It growled in response as if it could understand me. I was really wishing I had a wolf’s sense of smell right about now, because I’d never seen a wild wolf act like this.

  It gave one more growl and then abruptly swung around and trotted back into the underbrush and trees.

  I ran as fast as I could back to the hotel without looking back. Looked like it was just going to be runs through town from now on.

  This place had a wolf problem.

  As I made it back to the hotel as the sun started to fade, I wasn’t aware of the motorcycle parked in the dim lighting just down the street. And the man on that bike who watched me.

  In the shower, I’d managed to convince myself that I had no actual idea how wild wolves acted and I was just imagining things that weren’t there. I refused to believe that my curse would extend to sending me straight to shifters after I’d vowed I would never be near one again.

  The bar was actually full without a seat to spare when I ventured downstairs into the lobby. I decided to get food somewhere else. The weather was perfect outside, but the streets were quiet, just like the night I’d arrived. I strolled down the sidewalk, looking in the store windows as I passed. A door opened a few buildings down, bringing with it the sound of music and laughter. A couple
staggered out the door, practically tearing each other’s clothes off as they stumbled away. Intrigued, I walked closer and saw a sign for the Jaw Bone Pub. The place didn’t look like much, but the smell coming out of it was incredible. Maybe I could venture in and grab a cup of soup or something from the grocery store.

  The moment I stepped through the heavy wooden door, I was assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and smells that had my senses whirling. My insides were going haywire, like something was jumping around. I needed to find some Tums somewhere. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but it had to be related to some stomach issues because it wasn’t anything I’d experienced before.

  The place wasn’t that crowded. There were a few people at a long, polished wooden bar, and a few others scattered at tables around the large room. There was a dancefloor on the far side with a scuffed up black floor and an old-fashioned jukebox. And there were wolves.

  Not literally.

  But there were wolves engraved everywhere. On the chair backs, in the bar, in the beams on the ceiling. I glanced back at the door that had just closed behind me, not surprised at all to see a giant wolf engraved in it. There was even a gorgeous wooden wolf sculpture behind the bar designed to look like the wolf was emerging from the wall. The details were so perfect, I half expected for the sculpture to come alive at any moment and the wolf to spring the rest of the way into the room.

  A brunette with skin the color of cinnamon was polishing glasses behind the bar. She watched me suspiciously as I walked to the bar and settled into one of the high-backed leather chairs. The woman was wearing a cut off shirt that barely covered her ample chest and low slung jeans. Her abdomen was tight and toned, and for a second, I contemplated asking for workout tips because she looked like she could throw down.