Broken Moon: Part 1 (2 page)

April let out a gasp of
pleasure and tightened her legs around her partner, wanting more of
him, harder, the need between her legs growing intense. He filled
her steadily, but the pressure of his grip around her hip and
shoulder didn't match the fervour with which her fingers clutched
at his neck, her nails digging into his skin as she sucked in heavy
breaths through clenched teeth.

"Harder," she
whispered, eyes closing, her brow furrowed.

"Are you ready?"
Harper's husky voice answered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

He drew back gently,
her slick walls reluctant to let go of his shaft, and thrust back
into her harder, driving his hips against her pale body until an
unbidden squeal rose in her chest.

April's fingers roved
across his toned shoulders, her palms stroking his smooth cheeks,
nails scratching at his firm chest as her lips closed and parted in
silent ecstasy until the tension in her throat finally broke with a
breathless cry of passion.

Harper panted in time
with his strokes, his hands finally giving her the pressure she
craved as he gripped her tight, holding her down against the bed by
her shoulder with one hand while the other braced her hip against
the rhythm of his thrusts.

The tantalising scent
of her arousal mixed with his filled the space between them, the
cold forgotten as April's heated juices ran from her folds and the
warmth of her partner's body mingled with hers. Her cries became a
desperate whimper as her impending climax coiled within her belly,
gripping and stroking and squeezing at the sensitive spot at her
core that threatened to ignite into mind-numbing pleasure at any
moment.

The slick friction
between her folds stoked her excitement higher, her lips finding
Harper's skin as she kissed the faintly salty male scent from his
body, his chest, his neck, his mouth, until she could barely
breathe and her muscles ached with the effort of clinging to
him.

She
just needed a little more. To feel his teeth, his hands clutching
her hard, harder, something sharp, something bestial, she wanted
that wolf to drive her higher than ever before
—

Harper shuddered,
throbbing inside her as he groaned with release, April's own climax
seeping out of her in a heady cloud of warm pleasure as she focused
on the friction of him inside her, the closeness of his body and
the weight of his hands as he shook with ecstasy.

She tingled as she hit
her peak, sucking in a shrill breath and clutching her partner's
body to hers as he clung on, her walls gripping him feverishly
tight, longing for more, just a little more, something to prolong
that wonderful moment...

Her pleasure ebbed, the
sharpness of her breath easing as the tremors in her muscles gave
way to dull exhaustion, her legs unlocking from around Harper's
waist and sliding down the back of his thighs as her toes curled
and squirmed in the afterglow.

His heavy breathing
filled her ear, and she stroked his cheek warmly as the weight of
his body rested against her side.

"Warmer now?" he
panted, giving her ear a kiss.

"Much. Thank you." She
smiled, stroking her fingers up and down his back, rubbing her
thighs against his legs to prolong the pleasant tingle running
across her skin.

Harper was a good
lover. He'd make her a good mate.

April dozed a few
minutes longer in her partner's arms, feeling the warmth of his
body close against hers as the steady patter of the rain against
her cabin grew fainter. She could never manage to drift off to
sleep again while Harper was here. Perhaps it was just the unusual
presence of another body in her bed, or the sound of his heavy
breathing in her ear, or the lingering intensity of their
lovemaking, but it was never quite the same as crawling back into
bed by herself.

She enjoyed him being
here, but at the same time it set her on edge, as though reminding
her of how much her life would change once the pair of them were
mated.

She sat up suddenly,
drawing the sheets away from him and clutching them to her breast
once more. His hand crept up her bare back, and she shivered.

"What's wrong?" he
said.

"Nothing." She shook
her head, agitated by his curiosity. How could she explain
something she didn't fully understand herself without making it
sound like she didn't want him here? "We should... we should be
more careful." April shifted on the edge of the bed, feeling the
slick leavings of his climax between her thighs.

"About what?"

She turned, looking
down at him. "I don't want to be a mother. Not yet."

Harper gave her a wry
smile. "Don't let any of the elders hear you say that. It's our
duty to keep the pack going for another generation, after all.
Don't worry about it, it might never happen."

"
Might
,"
she replied with a sigh.

Having children was
often a once in a lifetime occurrence for werewolves. Many were
mated for years without ever conceiving, which was all the more
reason for the pack elders to make sure every female found a mate
as soon as she was old enough.

"Would it be so bad?"
Harper said. "It would make everyone happy. Including me." He gave
her shoulder a squeeze, and April looked away.

"I suppose I'm just
being silly."

After a long pause
Harper sat up beside her, removing his hand from her shoulder. "Are
you still uncomfortable with this, April? One moment you're happy
with me, the next it seems like you don't want us to have a future
together at all." He hid it well, but she caught the note of
frustration in his voice. They'd known each other too long for her
to miss it. "I know things might not be perfect, but we've got a
good life waiting for us if only you'd warm up to it. We could be
mated any day now. I'm just waiting for you to say the word."

She curled her fingers
into the sheets, wishing she was clothed again. She hated how
reasonable it sounded when he said it out loud. The very things she
loved most about her pack—the stability, the safety—were exactly
what made her so uneasy about her future here. Everything was
expected to go a certain way, including the course of her own life.
How could she explain it in a way that would make him
understand?

"It's just... I feel as
though everyone wants me to change, and I'm not ready for it," she
said at last. "It's not that I don't want to be your mate," she
added hastily, "I just want to get there in my own time, without it
feeling so... I don't know, forced."

That had been the wrong
thing to say. Harper's brow furrowed, but he smoothed it over
quickly, as he always did, and cleared his throat.

"Then I'll do my best
to help you get there," he said stiffly, then flashed her a smile,
bending down to pick up his clothes. "Why don't we spend some time
together later? I'm going out on patrol to check the west ridge,
you should come along."

He was trying to be
helpful. April raised a hand towards his turned back, but
hesitated. He was so ready for everything the pack expected of
them. She could hardly blame him for not understanding why she
wasn't. She didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't more time
spent together that they needed.

"Okay," she said,
withdrawing her hand and returning his smile as he looked back at
her. "That sounds nice. We'll make it a date."

The relief on his face
was so genuine it brought a lump to April's throat. Everything was
so simple to Harper.

She would just have to
get used to it, she supposed, and try her best to keep her
conflicted feelings to herself.

* * * * *

The leader, the one the
others called Blackthorn, led the way to the Highland Pack camp in
silence. He remained in his human form all the way, which Cyan was
thankful for. It gave him an excuse to do the same. In the same way
he would have treated a wild animal, he preferred to keep his wolf
on a short tether whenever possible. The less he indulged in his
feral side the better.

It wasn't a long
journey, but the terrain remained difficult and tiring the whole
way. The rain eased up, and by the time they arrived it had given
way to fluffy spots of snow trying their best to settle on the damp
ground.

Through the thickening
pine trees they came to a flattened area on the steep slope,
surprisingly open for a werewolf camp, commanding an impressive
view down the side of the mountain to the forests below. The layout
of the small area was more in line with Cyan's expectations, though
far more neat and civilised than the home territory of most
werewolf packs.

Log seats and a carpet
of gravel and wood chippings surrounded the central fire, the
gravel curving off into carefully laid paths that led to a handful
of wooden cabins tucked in beneath the trees and into the side of
the mountain. Cyan could only make out roughly a dozen dwellings,
but other paths led further up the mountain and between the rocks
of the sheer cliff face, likely leading to more of the small
buildings.

It was eerily
beautiful, even soaked in rain. The air was tinged with the smell
of wood smoke and pine needles, and everything about the place gave
off the feeling of a quaint, quiet life lived in the solitude of
the mountains. He had certainly visited far less welcoming werewolf
camps.

"Not what you were
expecting?" Blackthorn looked him up and down as they came to a
halt in front of the central meeting area.

"I don't know," Cyan
replied. "Judging from the size of you all I half expected a tribe
of highland barbarians. But I'll take this instead."

"Good. Wait here while
I fetch the elders, then we'll decide what to do with you."

"We shouldn't have
brought him to the camp," one of the other wolves said as he
shifted back into his human form.

"Look at the sky,"
Blackthorn snapped, pulling off his gloves and flicking them in the
direction of the clouds. "A bad storm's coming. I'm not leaving
anyone out there once it hits, not even an outsider. He can stay
here until the weather passes." He paused. "But I have a feeling
the elders will want to keep you around, Cyan. You're exactly the
kind of stray Ingrid likes to take in."

He raised his eyebrows
at that. "Is she your alpha? A female?"

Blackthorn shook his
head. "No alphas in the Highland Pack, not for years. We have our
elders, four people who we trust to make the right decisions for
the rest of the pack."

"Three people," a quiet
voice chipped in behind Cyan.

Blackthorn sighed.
"Yes, three people now. Anyway, you can have a history lesson on
the pack later. For now, wait here." He strode away towards a large
cabin close to the central meeting area and rapped on the door,
leaving Cyan to take the weight off his feet on one of the log
benches.

He was exhausted. How
long had it been since he'd slept somewhere comfortable? Weeks?
Months? He rubbed his aching eyes, crushing the exhaustion down and
forcing himself to focus.

He spent so much time
living from moment to moment these days, trying to keep his wolf
subdued while still clinging on to some tangible goal, that it was
easy to forget what it was like to have a pack he could call his
own. A pack that respected him. Obeyed him.

He swallowed the
bitterness in his throat and rubbed his hands together to ward off
the biting cold. He doubted he'd have the luxury of a pack that
obeyed him ever again. He didn't deserve it.

Blackthorn returned
shortly with a middle-aged woman in tow. From the lines around her
eyes and the way her greying hair had been hastily tied back Cyan
could tell she'd been woken up prematurely.

"This is Ingrid,"
Blackthorn said, tucking a hand behind his back formally as he
introduced them. "Shall I wake the other elders?"

"It's fine,
Blackthorn," Ingrid said in a soft, steady voice. "I doubt Gene
would care either way, and Harriet would just look for reasons to
disagree with me. So, Cyan?" She raised her eyebrows at him.
"You're a loner? From the forest packs?"

He nodded. "If you'll
have me, I'd love to stick around. I've been looking for your pack
for a long time."

More people were
starting to appear from the cabins around the edges of the camp,
all eyes focused on Cyan as they whispered to one another, hanging
back out of the falling snow. They glanced away when he looked at
them, or returned his unflinching stare with cold detachment. All
except for a pretty red-haired girl standing in the doorway of her
cabin with her mate beside her.

She gave him a
tentative smile, and for the first time in months a faint glimmer
of relief warmed inside Cyan.

"Blackthorn says you've
been out there by yourself for two years," Ingrid said. "How did
you survive?"

Cyan shrugged. "The
same way any wolf survives. Hunting. Being careful. Smart."

"And you never felt the
urge to give in to your wolf that whole time? To go feral?"

"No," Cyan looked from
Blackthorn to Ingrid. "Why does that surprise you?"

"We've had problems with people losing touch with their human
side over the years, even among the safety of our own pack,"
Blackthorn said. "It's been a while since it last happened,
but
—"

"It'll happen again,"
Ingrid cut in sharply. "If you're used to keeping your wolf at bay,
Cyan, then I'd like to hear how you managed it for so long.
Provided you don't cause any trouble, you're free to stay, at least
for a little while."

"Until the weather
passes," Blackthorn murmured.

"Until I say so."
Ingrid shot the tall male a glare. He pressed his lips together
tightly, but nodded in compliance.