Blood Moon (The Blood Moon #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

Golden light filtered through the cypress trees, casting long shadows across the bayou and dock as children’s laughter echoed from the pack house’s backyard.

Summer Vale sank onto the weathered porch steps, dropping her medical bag on the bench behind her as she watched a spectacle that would have sent her old Boston colleagues running for the nearest psychiatrist.

She ran a hand over her stomach as she watched three children play.

Her other hand she used to swipe across her eyes.

The youngsters, two boys and a girl, none older than eight, tumbled across the grass with a litter of wolf puppies.

The scene was extraordinary, not just because of the puppies’ unusual size or intelligence, but also because of the way all the children flickered between the two forms, reminding her of glittering catfish darting through water.

One moment, the dark-haired boy was human, giggling as he wrestled with a gray pup; the next, he was rolling in the dirt on four legs, tail wagging, and his clothes scattered around him like shed snakeskin.

Her palms tingled, and she massaged her right palm with her thumb. Heat shimmer.

Summer sighed and blinked away more tears. The next Blood Moon was three or four weeks away, and her clock was ticking down; she was approaching her mid-thirties when most of the women in her family had already met their untimely deaths.

“Emma’s getting faster at the shift,” Rowan Calder remarked, settling onto the step beside her.

Fresh from the shower, he dripped water from his hair and smelled of pine and cedar from the soap he preferred.

His muscular, unshifted wolf body was scorching hot, great on cold winter nights, but a little too warm on days like today.

His deep voice carried a bayou cadence; it still made her heart flutter even after months of knowing and loving him.

“Last month, it took her a full five minutes to complete a shift.”

Summer breathed in the scent of chicory coffee from the pack healer, Lena Broussard’s cabin.

She looked at Rowan, expecting a coffee from him, but accepted the beer he passed her.

She set it down beside her, then carried on watching the little girl, human one second, wolf pup the next, pounce on her human brother with a yip of triumph. “Is that normal? The speed?”

“For pack kids, yeah. They’re born knowing both forms.” Rowan’s amber eyes tracked the children’s movements; he was a man accustomed to danger, and his constant alertness kept his head on the swivel. “The human world is what’s strange to them.”

The implication wasn’t lost on Summer. A few months ago, she was a respected ER physician in Boston, where her biggest concerns were trauma cases and hospital politics.

When her father became sick, she packed up her Bostonian world and returned to her childhood home.

Now she was documenting the healing rates of werewolf children and pretending not to notice when pack members’ eyes glowed in the dark.

A warm breeze eased some of the humidity briefly, but carried the scent of swamp water, along with the aromas of decaying vegetation and an earthy scent with undertones of sulfur.

Toad and cicada chirrups floated on the same breeze; the sound of a freight train could be heard in the distance, along with the rustle of Spanish moss from nearby trees.

She tried to relax and not worry about the next full moon—the Blood Moon.

The bayou had claimed her soul as surely as Rowan had claimed her heart, drawing her deeper into a world which felt both terrifying and inevitable.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Rowan said, his eyes still focused on the children. “I can smell your worry.”

“That’s still so weird,” Summer muttered.

She traced her fingers over the scar from his claiming bite, reflecting briefly on how angry she had been with him at the time, but now she leaned into his solid body.

His mere presence was an anchor in her new and strange surroundings. “I’m just… processing all of this.”

“Having second thoughts?”

She shook her head, knowing his question carried both the need and desire to understand more than his simple words.

What he really wanted to ask was: Are you going to run again?

Once before, after her mother’s death and the advent of Hurricane Katrina, she was sent away to family; when life with them grew too restrictive, she fled to Boston.

She’d stayed there for almost twenty years, but that was long before she’d met him.

He knew when they first met, she’d wanted to run from the discoveries about her family and background.

“No,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Rowan’s shoulders loosened, and through their mate bond, she felt his tension flow away, easing like a gator sliding into the slow-moving waterway.

Sometimes she wondered if she would love him as much without the bond, but as soon as his hand found hers, their fingers gently intertwining, she knew she’d chosen this man for herself.

For a man who could crush concrete with his bare hands, he always touched her as if she were made of spun sugar.

She knew she’d choose him again and again.

“Good,” he said quietly. “You know the pack’s getting used to you. Lena’s already talking about expanding the medical supplies now we have access to your knowledge.”

Summer smiled, watching young Emma shift back to human form and immediately begin lecturing the puppies about proper hunting techniques. “And what about their Alpha-in-waiting? Is he getting used to me, too?”

Rowan’s gold eyes met hers, and for a moment, his intensity stole her breath. “He wanted to become used to having you around since the moment he walked into your emergency room covered in someone else’s blood, and you demanded to know if he needed your help or was just taking up space.”

The memory shot warmth through her chest. The night she’d met Rowan felt like a lifetime ago—the strange attacks, the injured pack member, her first real glimpse into the supernatural world hiding in plain sight.

She’d been terrified and exhilarated and utterly out of her depth.

Some days she was still adrift, but she was learning.

“Yes, poor Marcus with those dreadful gouges on his torso,” she said. “I was terrified. I’d never seen anything like it.” Absent-mindedly, she opened her medical bag and began checking the contents, counting the bandages and dressings.

She glanced up at him, “What?”

“Nothing.” He grinned at her and pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You were magnificent, then and now,” he whispered in her ear.

The warmth of his breath on her ear and neck, and his husky voice, rushed color to her cheeks.

She glanced over his shoulder to their bedroom, and he grinned and reached for a soft kiss.

But before she could wriggle closer and respond fully, Rowan’s expression shifted, his head tilting to the side as he listened to a sound her human ears missed.

“What is it?”

“Axel’s back. He’s been making his rounds again,” Rowan said. “This is the third time this week he’s visited the Lafayette pack. Last week, he was seen near Le Sang talking to some of the younger wolves from Jackson.”

Summer felt the peace crack like a cube of ice dropping into iced tea. Axel had been a thorn in her side from their first meeting. Besting him in a physical fight had not endeared her to the disgruntled Sergeant-at-Arms. “And I guess that’s not part of his normal duties?”

“No.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Axel’s ambitious, always has been. But now, as the transition to a new Alpha gets closer, he’s asking the same old questions about pack loyalty, about whether the old ways still serve us. Talking about expansion, about taking what we deserve instead of staying hidden.”

“You think he’s planning something?” Summer took a small sip of her beer, then held the cool bottle to her forehead. She wasn’t getting used to the humidity in the bayou anytime soon.

“I think he’s building support to make a challenge.” Rowan’s fingers squeezed hers. “The question is whether he’s stupid enough to try it or smart enough to wait for the right moment.”

Summer studied his profile, noting the way his shoulders were rigid once more, the subtle shift in his breathing. “What would happen if he challenged Maurice? Or you?”

“If he wins?” Rowan’s voice was flat. “The pack changes. Becomes harder. More aggressive. The truce with Fabian’s vampires ends, and we go back to the old ways of settling disputes.”

“And if he loses?”

“Then he’s exiled, or he dies, depending on how far he pushes it.” Rowan turned to face her. “But the damage would be done. The pack would be divided, suspicious. It would take years to rebuild trust.”

Summer shivered, feeling a chill which had nothing to do with changing temperatures. These people, this pack, had become her family in ways she was still discovering. The thought of them turning on each other, making the peace here might be so fragile it could shatter, made her stomach scrunch up.

“What about you?” she asked quietly. “Maurice planned it so when he steps down, you’re next in line.”

“It’s always been the plan. It’s why he made me the pack enforcer.” Rowan’s expression was neutral. “If the pack still chooses me. If I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

He was quiet for a moment, and Summer followed his gaze, watching the children play.

Young Emma had convinced two of the puppies to stay human long enough for a tea party, though one kept shifting his ears back to wolf ones whenever she wasn’t looking.

Summer pressed her lips together, so she wouldn’t laugh out loud and disrupt the play.

“I thought I was,” Rowan said finally. “Had it all planned out. Take over the business side first, prove I could handle pack politics, wait for Maurice to retire gracefully. But lately…”

“Lately?”

“Lately, I wonder if being Alpha means accepting some things never change. That we’ll always be looking over our shoulders, always hiding what we are. The most I can hope for is to keep the peace and hope the next generation finds a better way.”

Summer squeezed his fingers, too, hearing his frustration as the weight of expectations and tradition pulled him down.

She thought about her own journey and the strange compulsion dragging her back to New Orleans.

She could have visited her father more often; she didn’t have to move back to care for him.

He hadn’t been so sick, and since his transition, well, he was hardly sick at all.

“Maybe that’s exactly why you should be Alpha,” she said. “Because you’re not content with the way things are.”

Rowan’s eyes found hers again, and she saw a light flicker in them; perhaps it was hope or relief. “You think so?”

“I think you’re already protecting this pack in all the ways that matter. You’re building a legitimate business with the motorcycle shop; you’re thinking about the future instead of just surviving the present. And you’re not afraid to let an outsider in when they might be able to help.”

“An outsider who happens to be a brilliant doctor.” Rowan traced his thumb across her cheekbone. “I love watching you reassuring your patients. You’ve saved more pack members than you know. You saved my life and the life of my best friend.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Summer murmured, and she smiled up at him, remembering the first time she’d been so close to those luscious lips.

“I’m counting on it.”

Summer’s eyes again flickered toward their shared bed.

The twilight stretched between them, warm, perfect, and fragile.

The pups were called in for supper and bed by their parents, and Summer let herself imagine a future where evenings on the porch, watching children play, talking about pack politics like other couples discussed school boards and neighborhood associations, were perfectly normal.

A future where she belonged here, not just as an outsider looking in but as family.

The sharp buzz of Rowan’s phone shattered the magic.

He glanced at the screen, and Summer watched his expression shift from contentment to sharp alertness. “Maurice.”

“Take it,” she said, but Rowan already had the phone to his ear.

“Alpha.” A pause. “When?” Another pause, longer. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up, and Summer sensed the peaceful evening slip away as morning mist gives way to the rising sun. The echoes of the children’s games still hung in the air, but the atmosphere had altered. The air was electric, charged with danger and threat.

“What is it?” Summer asked, though she knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

Rowan rose sharply. “Situation in the city. There’s been an incident. Someone’s been found dead in the Quarter, but the circumstances are… unusual.”

“Unusual how?”

“Unusual enough to suggest hybrid activity,” Rowan growled. “Which means either someone’s playing games they shouldn’t be, or we’ve got a problem that’s about to get a whole lot bigger.”

Ice gripped Summer’s stomach. She clenched her fist around the beer bottle.

“We killed all the hybrids,” she hissed, recalling the nightmare creatures created by forcing transformations on humans who couldn’t handle the change.

The last of them had been destroyed a few months ago, along with the vampire who’d created them.

“We killed Victor and his second. They’re dead,” she said. “We saw the bodies!”

“They’re dead. You know they are.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “So either someone else has picked up where he left off, or we’re dealing with something worse.”

The children’s laughter was gone, the joyous sound giving way to the gathering darkness. Summer rose, her medical bag automatically finding its way to her shoulder.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

Rowan started to shake his head, then stopped. “This could be dangerous.”

“Then you’ll need a doctor.”

For a moment, he looked as if he might argue, but her expression must have convinced him. “Stay close,” he said. “And Summer? If I tell you to run, you run. No questions, no arguments. You run!”

“Understood.”

But as they walked toward Rowan’s motorcycle, Summer couldn’t shake the feeling that running wasn’t an option anymore. Whatever was happening in the city, whatever new threat was emerging from the shadows, she was part of this world now. For better or worse, she was pack.

The golden hour was fading, and with it, the illusion of peace. As they rode toward the city, Summer held tight to Rowan’s warm back and tried not to think about how quickly paradise could become a hunting ground.

Behind them, the sounds of children playing echoed in her mind, while bodies piled up in the French Quarter.

Again.