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BOOK: Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon
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Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon
by Loribelle Hunt
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Romance/Erotica

Cobblestone Press
www.cobblestone-press.com

Copyright ©2006 by Loribelle Hunt

First published in 2006

 

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Under the Cover of the Moon: Lunar Mates Book 1

Copyright© 2006 Loribelle Hunt

ISBN: 1-60088-018-5

Cover Artist: Sable Grey

Editor: Melanie Noto

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Cobblestone Press, LLC

www.cobblestone-press.com

Prologue

The community hall was filled to capacity. Several men stopped and quietly wished Darius luck, but more visited the other man standing on the opposite side of the small courtyard. The Council of Chiefs stood back in an insolated circle and took it all in.

Darius tried to look at the situation from their point of view. The Council was here to appoint a new Alpha to the pack, because Brant had died without warning and without naming a successor. They wouldn't just look for a strong leader; they'd choose someone well respected by the majority of the adult males. Brant had ruled the clan with an iron fist and Darius was considered the most like Brant, who'd excelled at pitting him against Jackson. He'd maneuvered them both like a chess master, weakening the only two males strong enough to challenge his rule.

Darius doubted he was the upcoming choice. The clan had chaffed under Brant's leadership, and looked for something new, a little freedom. He couldn't blame them—he wanted more freedom himself.

He gritted his teeth. Never mind that he was cast in the same mold. He was Brant's Enforcer, and that made him unpopular except for a few loyal childhood friends who saw beyond his official function. One of those old friends was his opponent, Jackson, and another made his way through the bottleneck at the courtyard's entrance and came to stand beside him. He released a sigh of relief. Of course, Eric would stand at his side.

Eric nodded. “Evening."

He snorted in response. Yeah, best to leave the good off that.

“Jackson's got quite a crowd over there,” Eric added dryly.

“Noticed that."

“Talkative tonight, huh?” Eric grinned.

Darius bit back a laugh. A few weeks earlier Eric had claimed his mate, and he had been irrepressibly cheerful ever since. If he weren't so happy for his old friend, he'd be tempted to strangle him.

“That's good. I can talk for both of us,” he changed the subject. “Trey's back. Have you seen him?"

“No.” And it worried him. He counted on Trey's unspoken support during the Naming, but so far Trey had avoided Darius since his return two days ago.

“Not to worry. He's avoiding us all. I think that's a good sign, actually. Maybe he's finally going to retire from the Hunters."

Darius raised an eyebrow.

Eric shrugged. “Why avoid any of us if he wasn't? He wouldn't have any say in this. If he leaves the Hunters, he'll have to choose. We all know someone's getting banished tonight,” he ended seriously. And they all knew those odds were in his favor.

Eric nodded towards the entrance. “There he is now."

They turned to watch as the sea of people parted to let Trey through. It wasn't that he looked so imposing, though he did. It had been his choice to become a Hunter and he had lasted a long time at it, earning himself a reputation as being ruthless, merciless, and cold-blooded. They said he never gave up and never lost his quarry.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw Jackson also turn to watch Trey's entrance. He passed the three of them without even a flicker of recognition, and Jackson caught his eye with a small nod just before he turned back to the people around him.

The four of them had been inseparable as cubs and teenagers until Trey's parents were killed by one of the outlaw rogues of the Society. At fifteen, Trey left the pack and joined the Hunters, a move that by traditional law barred him from ever being Alpha or Beta of a clan.

Trey worried Darius. His years as a Hunter were wearing on him, and he'd grown increasingly more remote and isolated. If he didn't quit soon, Darius was afraid he'd never regain any kind of normal life.

Yet despite current appearances, he knew he could count on Trey. As a Hunter he was required to be impartial, but in private he always gave sound advice. If Trey left the Hunters, Darius was almost positive Trey would join him. Eric would act as Beta, and Trey as Enforcer. Jackson could be the one to either submit, or be banished. That had always been his plan. He repressed a sigh. First he'd have to save Trey from himself, though.

The stragglers made their way inside and the Council followed in quick order. Eric slipped in behind them, and he and Jackson approached the door together. Silence fell over the large crowd as they entered. It looked like every able-bodied male in the pack had shown up. The hall appeared to be filled to its 300-person capacity. The combined excitement of the masses charged the air. He spotted Eric and Trey in the crowd; Eric surrounded by supporters and Trey, by the natural buffer that seemed to follow him.

I'm really going to have to do something about that.

His vision tunneled to the table before him where the Elder, the chief of the over-clan, took center stage, flanked by the other seven.

“Darius Stewart.” The Elder continued when he stepped forward. “You are to be banished."

He had expected it, but still reeled like he'd taken a punch to the gut. He was amazed he stayed on his feet and answered in the appropriate places. It was a conversation Eric would have to relate later. To lose one's clan was a little death, the worst punishment to be imposed on a werewolf. The room cleared and soon only Trey and the other Alphas were left. In the haze, he heard Trey say that he would follow Darius to Alabama.

Chapter One

She was his. And it was not something he was entirely comfortable with. He hadn't thought he was in the market for a mate. The last month had been hell.
Biology's a bitch.

He had located his pack in this small town on the boundary of a state park in southern Alabama, just as he had been ordered. It was the perfect location—a successful small town on the edge of wilderness. There would be work and room to run. A man could stretch his legs here. So could a wolf.

One month of banishment had eased his anger at Jackson, and his old friend was now in charge of the home pack. It had come close to full out war before the council had stepped in to banish Darius. He regretted that too.

But things had worked out for the best. They were a small group. A were hated change above everything else, but ten males, with six mated, had decided to make the move and form a new pack. He had one year to settle the clan and be officially recognized. One year to prove his capabilities before someone tried to wrest the pack from him. He relished a good challenge and was certain he'd come out on top. How could he not? He was strong and in his prime.

All those praying for his failure, and there were many, were in for a disappointment. If the council did not approve his leadership at the completion of the year, any male could try to take it. But that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it. He had eleven months left.

A mate will strengthen my position as Alpha.

He grimaced. Weres looked forward to finding their mates, to settling down to monogamy and having cubs. What was he doing? Worrying about securing his power. It beat the alternative—figuring out how to claim the woman he wanted. He knew trouble when he saw it, and she was it. With a capital T. Stubborn. Sexy. Independent. Smart as a whip. And did he mention stubborn?

She was Meg O'Reilly, owner and proprietor of
O'Reilly's Bar and Grill
. He dragged a deep breath of air into his lungs, trying to resurrect her scent—sweet and spicy, and meant for him alone. Her skin was pale and clear, and he knew it would be smooth beneath his fingers. She was perfect, small and curvy, with flowing chestnut brown hair. He couldn't wait to discover how she tasted. It was time for her to stop running.

He had walked into
O'Reilly's
for the first time four weeks ago. She was the first person he saw when he pulled open the heavy wood door and crossed the threshold. Standing behind the long bar on a sidewall, she was laughing and flirting with a customer while pouring a beer from the tap. Her hair was knotted on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face, the elegant line of her neck exposed. A wall of unfamiliar emotions—jealousy, lust, possessiveness, and many he didn't dare try to name, hit him. It was unsettling, and she stiffened as if sensing his uneasy entrance.

Afraid she'd bolt, he approached her with the good-natured newcomer façade he'd put forth for a week. Her eyes were brown—the first thing he noticed on close inspection. What should have been warm chocolate gave him a frigid reception. With cool politeness, she returned his introduction and welcomed him to town.

He was more accustomed to women throwing themselves him, than making a point of ignoring him. She should feel the same emotions he did, raging lust at the very least. Then he noticed the frantic pulse beating in her neck, and got faint whiff of her fear. He was amazed she had such control over her responses and realized with a thrill she was not as unaffected by him as she wanted him to believe. Later he heard the rumors that she was a witch and wondered how much that had to do with it.

But she was skittish. It was okay. He had time. Or he
had
had time. He thought between charm and lust he would overcome her fears in a matter of days, but except for a few stilted conversations she'd avoided him since their first meeting. She'd put him off for a whole month, and the full moon was coming. With any other woman it wouldn't matter. No other woman brought out the proprietary nature of the wolf in him, the animal instinct to claim his mate. For the first time in his life he doubted his ability to control it. Her damned stubbornness put her in danger.

Tonight he would end it. Tonight he would stalk her as he would any other prey. And God help her if she put him off again. He was too tempted to spank her mouth-watering ass as it was. For the first time in days, he smiled. That was a plan with merit.

Chapter Two

Meg ran errands all day and tried not to obsess over Darius Stewart. The man was too sexy for words. Had she only met him month ago? For the amount of time she spent trying not to think of him that seemed impossible. For several days she'd fought a deep impulse to seek him out, and it scared her. She was a woman who enjoyed her independence and chose partners when the desire struck. She had never
needed
a man, but her libido had gone into overdrive since encountering this one.

She was a witch, like her mother and grandmother before her, and her instinct was flawless. It was a talent that had always served her well. She knew things, and felt the strong emotions of those around her. Sometimes she even caught a stray thought. If she gave in to this newfound desire, her life would be altered beyond anything she recognized. She would find herself tied to him in ways that defied human nature.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? She didn't know what he was, but she was sure he wasn't entirely human. To make matters worse, she sensed there were more of them here. Whatever they were.

Despite knowing that, she had to fight the urge to go to him. She woke every morning with need crawling through her. The closer the end of the month came, the worse it got. It was pure obstinacy that kept her from seeking him out. She sighed. It wouldn't be long before she gave in to the pull of the odd attraction between them.

She exited the bank, and the town's clock tower chimed the time. Five o'clock. She was finished with the last item on her must do list for the day and the night seemed to stretch endlessly before her. She didn't have to be behind the bar until ten, but she did have to be there. Sensing a new resolve in Darius, she'd juggled the schedule and had the other bartender cover for her the last two nights, but she couldn't skip out forever. He might not even show up. She snorted. Yeah right. His visit was as inevitable as the coming night.

Meg decided to take advantage of the hours before work and visit her friends in the businesses around the bar. It was a nice spring afternoon, warm without the South's requisite sky-high humidity, and perfect for wandering around the downtown streets. It would also keep her away from her phone. Darius had called so often, she didn't even need to check the caller ID anymore when it rang.

BOOK: Lunar Mates 1: Under Cover of the Moon
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