Moonlit Thrist (Midnight Riders MC #1)

Prologue

All I can do is bite back the pain.

When the trap first snapped shut around my ankle, I howled up at the night sky like an injured animal.

But now that the initial shock is over, I can control myself more easily.

As my frightened hyperventilating slows down to soft panting, I try to assess the situation more clearly.

My boot and thick socks protected me from the rusty teeth trying to dig through to the bone of my right foot, but it doesn’t look good. The ankle nerves throb as I try to wriggle free without gouging the skin against the snare’s jagged fangs.

Sitting forward, I attempt to insert my fingers between the teeth while prising the trap open.

I may as well be trying to open Fort Knox with a nail file.

Huffing, I give up and look around the forest helplessly. It’s easy to see Muohta threading through the trees towards me. The Samoyed’s white fur glows in the moonlight.

It comforts me to know my new dog will be by my side. At least I’m not alone.

“Muohta. Good boy. Come.” Patting the ground next to me, I make encouraging noises. “I’m afraid I’ve gone and done something very stupid. My… my foot’s stuck in an old bear trap. Come and sit next to me.”

But Muohta has other ideas. Stopping two yards away from me, he barks.

“Come on, you naughty pooch. If anyone ever needed a hug, it’s me.”

When I speak, I notice my voice has a tremor. The cold, hard facts are slowly dawning on me.

I’m new in town.

No one knows where I went, and nor is anyone expecting me to come back.

And the shortcut I took across Ben Magoo’s land is totally isolated, as well as being half a mile away from the road.

Not that the road would have any traffic on it. This is Landslide, or as I like to call it, The Land That Time Forgot.

Luna, you damn fool! Why didn’t I listen to my best friend Tallie before I came here?

“Beware of those little backwater towns, Luna. One step—one word—out of line, and you can say bye-bye to your good girl reputation.”

“D’you think they’ll be conservative?” I’d mumbled the question even though I wasn’t really interested in the answer. I hate packing. I think I was trying to cram another pair of sneakers into my suitcase at the time.

“Mm-mh, definitely, but throw in a smidge of cabin fever and a hefty dose of distrust of strangers in there for good measure, too. My advice? Go to Landslide with a muzzle on those usually outspoken views of yours. And whatever you do, don’t wander off alone or go knocking on any spooky cabin doors. ”

It’s so easy to forget all those cautionary tales about hikers straying off the path when you’re outdoors here, because Landslide is not a wilderness, exactly. It’s more like a land in limbo. A place suspended between utter isolation and a poor attempt at civilization.

Gritting my teeth, I see if I can lift my leg with the trap attached to it. Even if I can just hobble or crawl to the verge of the road, I would be able to sit there until a vehicle comes along.

“Argh!” The trap is chained to an iron stake driven into the ground—and I just yanked on it. In agony, I scream at the moon once more.

Female skeleton found in the woods on Ben Magoo’s land.

I can see the headlines in my head right now.

No! I won’t let this misfortune define who I am! I refuse to die. I’m a fighter, just like my dad. There has to be a way out of this.

“Muohta.” This time I force my voice to be calm. “Come and lie here with me. Let’s think of a plan together.”

Cocking his head to one side, the dog blinks and then barks again, his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

Already, I am jealous of the Samoyed dog’s thick fur. A chill rises in the air as the night deepens. When my eyes follow the path and I get a look through the gap in the trees, I see there is no sign of light anywhere. No friendly cottage porch light. No street lights. Nothing.

If I shut my eyes, it sharpens my senses. All the noises of nocturnal animals get louder. A few brave crickets screech as if they’re trying to keep the cold out.

I startle as something rustles in the bushes. I think it’s an owl that hoots.

It’s less creepy with my eyes open. At least I have the starlight then.

Mist hovers above the ground and seeps around the tree trunks, roiling as Muohta wags his tail and creates a breeze.

I’ll try one more time to get him to come to me. I know I’ve only been his dog mom for two days, but where is his loyal doggy nature, for goodness’ sake?

Making kissing noises with my lips, I keep my voice positive.

“Mu-Mu-Muohta! Come on! Come here, boy!”

It’s a disaster. I know dogs bred for snow are usually very naughty, but this one takes it to the next level!

One piercingly loud bark later, and Muohta is running away. He doesn’t even stop at the edge of the trees to check if I’m okay with him ducking out on me like this. That impudent ball of white fluff just disappears into the night.

I can tell from the way the dog is heading for the hills that calling for him to come back will just be a waste of time. And is that the rumble of thunder I hear in the distance? Just my luck to be stuck in a trap in the middle of a downpour.

Time for me to face the facts.

I’m alone in the woods in the no-man’s-land of Landslide; a town so isolated and insignificant that it doesn’t even have proper wi-fi coverage or a cell tower.

Diving my hand into the pocket of my coat, I bring out my phone. My new neighbor Ben told me there’s cell phone reception about thirty percent of the time. Sometimes it comes from Canada, and sometimes it connects with the U.S. tower, but it’s better than nothing.

“Please be connected to something. Please.”

But whoever the gods of cell phones are, they’re not taking calls at the moment. The header on the screen remains resolutely blank. Time for me to start panicking.

“Heeeelp! Can anyone hear me? Heeeeelp!”

I’m screaming so hard I’m out of breath when I finally give up. Tears are knocking on the doors of my eyelids, but I won’t surrender just yet.

And then I see it.

A white tail wagging under the moonlight. Muohta’s come back!

But the dog is not alone.

A primitive fear grips me. For some insane reason, the rush of adrenaline excites me, too. Not in the normal flight-or-fight way—in the “fuck me now, you big stud” way. How is it possible for a man to have a sexy silhouette?

You crazy hound, Muohta! You’ve brought some random stranger over to me and I’m pegged to the ground like that goat in the Jurassic Park movie!

As my body goes into high alert, I begin to absorb every tiny detail about my approaching rescuer, as if he’s some random hottie coming over to chat to me in a busy bar instead of a mysterious loner stalking the forests at midnight.

The man’s expression is difficult to read in the darkness. His face is etched in shadows and moonlight. He’s all rigid lines and grim grayscale monotones. And then the image fades as the moon hides behind a cloud.

His outline is mesmerizing as his long strides bring him closer and closer. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Or maybe he just looks so muscular because of the bulky jacket he’s wearing.

This is what a wild woodsman would look like. Lengthy black hair, and I think I can see a rough, ungroomed beard, too.

The reed grass seems to fold underneath him as he pushes it aside with heavy boots. Why do I find this man so fascinating? I am not the kind of girl who creams her panties for just anyone, and yet this man commands my body to melt with sexual hunger with every move he makes.

Muohta barks and licks the man’s hand before running to where I am crouched on the ground.

“Thank you, Mu. You really came through for me… I think.”

The tall stranger stops at the treeline and seems to be peering into the darkness at me crouched on the ground.

I hear him inhale.

I’m desperate to hide. Call it old-fashioned animal instinct, but I’m frozen to the spot in so many ways, there’s no way I can escape.

But when the man speaks, I feel a small spark of hope… and some other emotion.

“Good evening, my little sacrificial lamb…”