Chapter Ten
Darius…
Walking out of the cabin to face off with Nikos and leaving Effie standing there with that perfect mouth of hers in an O of surprise would probably be the highlight of my day—maybe my week, because everything else is guaranteed to go to shit.
That doesn’t mean I should have uttered the words my wolf put in my mouth. Knowing Effie, the tempting little witch will take it as a challenge or a promise.
“Oh, it’s a promise, all right,” my wolf says in my head.
I ignore him—something I have a lot of practice with.
The rest of the Aetos pack may get to indulge their inner wolf as much as they want, but as the alpha, I don’t.
There’s too much on the line for me to listen to the horny furball with fangs.
That’s why I only let him out under a full moon.
With the next one being in a few days, he’s more obnoxious than usual after being kept shut up for so long.
I’m not sure if my wolf or Effie Sherwood is going to kill me first, but one of them is bound to put me in a pine box. Who knows, by the end of the month I might welcome it.
If Nikos doesn’t manage to turn the pack against me first.
Of course, the smart way to avoid that would be to ransom the sexy little witch off, not marry her—even if only temporarily.
“But we’re not gonna do that, because she’s ours,” my wolf says with a possessive growl.
“Fuck off, Sparky.”
“You do understand that I’m you, and you’re me, right?”
The furry fucker isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t mean I have to give in to the call of the wild like my father did and ignore everything except what his primal wolf side wanted.
I can keep my wolf on a tight leash, rule with logic not instinct, and take care of my pack while the rest of Witchingdom goes to shit.
Whatever it is that the witches are up to doesn’t involve us.
In short, fuck them witches.
But not literally.
No matter that she smells like the first honeysuckle blooms of spring or that her skin is so soft, her curves so full, or her ass so perfectly round and smackable. Trouble trails after Effie Sherwood like the scent of a pie fresh out of the oven.
“Which is exactly why we should give her a naughty nibble,” my wolf says.
“Do I need to lock you up again for you to shut up?” I stride across the park toward where a third of the pack is gathered. “Really, what in the fuck were you thinking with that whole ‘on my knees’ comment?
“Do you need me to go into graphic description, or would a quick overview do the trick?”
“You’re a real asshole, Wolf.”
“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep talking like that. Now there’s that brainless wonder, Nikos, in the gazebo. I’m looking forward to taking another swing at him.”
On this, my wolf and I are aligned. Giving in and going with my wild side with that punch felt as good as stepping on the first leaves during the first full moon in the fall and feeling them crunch under my paws.
Crisp. Refreshing. And oh so enjoyable. I can understand why my father and the other alphas in my family let their wolves run free. It feels fucking fantastic.
“That’s not how this is going to go down,” I tell him.
My wolf lets out a snort of disapproval. “What, you’re going to logic Nikos into submission?”
There’s no point in answering him, so I don’t. Instead, I finish the walk across the park to the gazebo where the pack is gathered.
The automatic lights are beginning to click on as the sun starts to lower on the other side of the mountain.
Dusk comes early and fast in autumn in the Arcadia Valley, which is why it tends to be the pack’s favorite time of year.
It’s finally cool enough that we can change form and run through the woods without overheating, but not so cold that frost clings to our fur.
Usually, the gloaming as the full moon approaches is when everyone is loosest and the line between our forms feels like more of a suggestion than a physical fact.
Tonight, however, the tension in the air has everyone on edge.
Artemis is sitting in her chair in the middle of the gazebo.
She stops rocking as I approach the stairs.
“Where’s your bride-to-be?” Artemis asks, her gaze sliding over to Nikos sitting on the gazebo banister as if she’s just waiting for him to start shit (as if there’s a chance in Witchingdom that he isn’t about to anyway).
“She’s coming,” I say as I climb the steps, making sure to keep my expression neutral even as my wolf’s hackles rise. “It’s not like she can stay away.”
I haven’t figured out the exact limit of how much physical distance there can be between us, but I have to be approaching it. Maybe if I can drill down on the line of separation, I can figure out why it exists in the first place.
“You already know,” my wolf says. “She’s our mate.”
I ignore him. Again.
Artemis nods as if having a witch metaphysically glued to my hip is perfectly normal. “So the ceremony will be at full nightfall.”
“This is bullshit,” Nikos says as he drops down from the banister and crosses over to where I’m standing, giving his back to Artemis. “The witch is not his fated mate.”
Like a broken clock, even Nikos is right twice a day—but he still needs to shut the fuck up and show Aunt Artemis some respect.
The pack may have voted him in as my second-in-command, but the Fates have picked Artemis to receive the moon’s messages.
That isn’t something to be an asshole about, even if we agree that Effie isn’t my fated mate.
“And you’re the pack oracle all of a sudden?” I get right in Nikos’s face and let my wolf dance close to the surface so there’s no way he can miss it. “The moon talks through you now?”
That shuts him up, no doubt because he knows that unless he holds a lot more power than he has now, neither I nor Artemis are wolves he should mess with.
Nikos is a dumbass, but he’s a survivor, I’ll give him that.
The air shifts around me, and my whole body revs up like every nerve has been injected with Nitro.
It’s almost like those few seconds before I transform into my wolf.
Instead of inhaling the scent of winter pine needles, wet wood, and cold, hard, dark soil, however, I’m hit with the scent of honeysuckle and that everything’s-fresh-and-new smell of running through the woods on a warm spring day.
And then Effie appears, falling out of thin air above me, and I have a whole half a second to brace my legs and hold my arms out to catch her.
“This is really getting old,” she grumbles. “How come you never go snap, crackle, pop through time and space to me?”
I pull her close against my chest. “Because I’d squash you if you tried to catch me.”
“Sure, use the size card,” she says, rolling her eyes but unable to stop one side of her full mouth from curling up into a smile. “Speaking of catching, you can put me down now.”
“Why?” My wolf’s question comes out before I have a chance to censor it, but it was my first thought as well.
“Because that one”—she tilts her head toward Nikos and raises her eyebrows—“looks like he’s willing to go through you to bury me.”
“Let him try,” I say with a low, snarling growl before my wolf even gets a chance to respond.
Effie lets out a little moan that goes straight to my dick.
“Oh, you might have just given me a mini orgasm with that snarl.” She bats her eyes in a way that makes me think she’s just teasing again, but the fact that she kind of melts against me has me wondering. “Put me down, Wolfie baby. It’s not time to carry me across the threshold yet.”
I’m so distracted by thoughts of what usually happens after a groom carries his bride through the doorway into their new home that I do what she asks without thinking. My wolf isn’t happy about that. He’s pacing around inside me, the fur on his back raised in a mohawk of annoyance.
Yeah, get used to it, buddy, because the last thing I need to do is to act like this is in any way going to be a real marriage.
It’s just a convenient out for both of us until I find a new job of questionable legality for the pack to carry out, and she figures out what’s gone wrong with her magic so we can be more than a few blocks away from each other.
“You lack imagination,” my wolf grumbles.
That’s where he’s wrong. I’m cursed with too much imagination when it comes to all the things I’d like to do with Effie Sherwood.
Aunt Artemis gets up from her chair in the gazebo and the pack members standing under its roof part like the tall grass when a gust of wind foretelling a prophecy blasts through.
Her hands are clasped together in front of her, and her eyes have turned from light brown to the honey gray of her wolf as she gazes up at the nearly full moon.
The scent of mossy old logs swirls around her, along with something she always describes as moondust sparkling around her in the early dark.
“It’s almost time,” she says, her lips curved into a slight smile.
“It won’t be easy, but combining two hearts never is. ”
Then the glimmering glow around her goes out, and she blinks her eyes back to their usual dark color.
“Oh, what a good omen.” She claps her hands together and smiles at Effie and me. “It always bodes well when the moon has a message before a wedding.”
Yeah, that’s one way to describe what just happened. It’s fucking unsettling even when you’ve seen it a million times.
“There’s just one problem,” Nikos says as he points up at the night sky. “It’s blue.”
I follow the line of his finger to the moon, which is almost full and most definitely blue.
The wolf inside me stops pacing, shakes out his fur, and starts to stretch for what will undoubtedly be a long, wild run.
A blue moon is rare, happening only a few times a year at most. When it happens, the regular rules about shifting go out the window.
No full moon needed, just a touch of that blue light and anyone in the pack can shift.
It’s a cause for celebration—and the race.
All around us, pack members start to roll their necks from side to side, loosen up their shoulders, and extend their legs to ease the tension in their hamstrings for what’s coming.
Only Nikos, Artemis, and I stay as we are.
Our wolves don’t need us to prep our current bodies for the transformation.
We’re all three powerful enough to change at will without the repercussions the others would feel if they didn’t prep.
Someone a few blocks off Main Street lets out a howl that cuts through the night, and nearly everyone around us turns to return the call. The sound hits just the right note to pop the lightbulbs hanging from the gazebo and leave us in only moonlight.
Effie takes a step closer to me, slipping her hand into mine as if she needs someone to hold on to. “What’s happening?”
Nikos turns, his self-satisfied grin already going pointed as he lets his wolf side start to come out. “Looks like you can’t marry the witch—not unless you can complete the race.”
Just fucking great. Can nothing about this day go as planned?
“What race?” Effie asks. “What is he talking about?”
“The blue moon means all adults in the pack have to race through the woods, battling it out to be the first to arrive back in Arcadia,” Aunt Artemis says, her tone reassuring.
“When there’s a wedding during a blue moon, our tradition is that before a couple can marry, they must complete the blue moon gauntlet race before it changes back to white. ”
“What kind of race is it? How long? Where’s the track?” Effie asks, sounding like what I’d imagine a treasure hunter would when finding a map leading to a cave filled with gold and jewels.
Artemis gives a little shrug. “Whatever the moon decides.”
The rumble of growls from the pack starts, low like the first purr of an engine off in the distance.
The blue moon gauntlet is an anything-goes chance for wolves to prove themselves, to rise through the ranks, and to maybe even a few scores.
The stakes are huge—and that’s before you throw a witch into the mix.
Everyone will be racing to better their place in the pack—especially Nikos.
Only the Fates know what kind of stunts he’ll try to pull to get to Effie or me and end us.
We have fifteen minutes, maybe less, before this all turns to shit.
Effie looks from Artemis to Nikos to the rest of the pack, who are already beginning to transform under the undeniable force of the blue moon. My gut clenches as my own wolf responds to the moon’s call—not to transform, but to protect.
A blue moon is when the line between civilized and uncivilized thins to the thinnest sliver and is the absolute last time a non-pack member should be in Arcadia, pre-wedding trials or not.
Effie looks up at me, her eyes wide with what I swear is anticipation. “So what happens now?”
I tighten my grasp on her hand and turn toward the woods. “We run.”