Bad Moon Rising

  Bad Moon Rising

  Lunar Mates Two

  By

  Loribelle Hunt

  Author's Note

  Welcome to Lunar Mates! Bad Moon Rising was first published in 2006 and to celebrate its ten year anniversary has been revised and expanded from 22,000 to 25,000 words. Over the next few months I will be releasing editions of the other books in the series. Next up are Chasing The Moon and Call Of The Moon in October 2016. If you'd like to be notified of new releases join my mailing list or my Facebook Reader Group for updates.

  BLURB

  After spending his life hunting rogue werewolves, Trey Williams is looking forward to a quiet retirement in Alabama. But between hunting for the local outlaw wolf and claiming his newfound mate, Tara Burke, that peace doesn’t last long. Can he find the mysterious wolf before it endangers his new mate?

  Tara knows all about werewolves and she doesn’t want one, thank you very much, but there’s no denying the heat that flares between her and Trey. Can she use her gift for witchcraft to break the bond between them? And does she really want to?

  This is a re-release.

  Table of Contents

  Author's Note

  BLURB

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Thirteen

  MORE FROM LORIBELLE HUNT

  COPYRIGHT

  Prologue

  A low murmur rolled through the long crowded hall as the group of eight men made their way to the curved table at the head of the room. Seven were alphas of other packs. The eighth was Anthony, leader of the hunters and Trey's soon to be former boss. Anthony moved off to their side while the alphas took places before the table. No one sat and once the crowd quieted, Gage Rylon stepped forward.

  He wondered if any the alphas knew who Gage was, what he was. Trey had found out by accident and promptly been sworn to secrecy, but he knew one day he'd have to make a choice to either support Gage or stand against him. He glanced over the alphas and decided they didn’t know. If they had one of them probably would have moved against Gage by now.

  That wasn’t his problem at the moment. Instead he coolly took in the presence of the two werewolves who followed. Jackson and Darius. From the look of things, they were no longer friends. Who could expect they would be? It was unfortunate that the alpha position left vacant by Brant’s sudden death could only be filled by one of them.

  In the not too distant past, the matter would have been decided by battle or all out war. But old ways changed, and the council of North American alphas had decided who would take the leadership of this pack. Now the hall was packed with the adult members of the pack waiting to discover which wolf that would be.

  Two Alphas.

  One pack.

  And one hunter.

  He noted the space that had cleared around him on his entry and was careful to conceal his amusement. Always an outsider. But perhaps that would change after tonight. He was pretty sure he knew the council's decision--Gage and Anthony had both spoken to him privately about his options. He knew what his own choices would be.

  He’d been a hunter, chasing down members of the Society, a band of outlaw wolves that threatened their secrecy, for nineteen years. At thirty-three, he’d lasted longer than most, but now he felt another pull, one he couldn’t name. The rage that had fueled his blood for so long was a dim memory. The one who had killed his family was certainly dead by someone else’s hand or by another cause by now. And his own coldness, his own growing remoteness, had finally convinced him that if he ever wanted to, now was the time to retire from his position.

  Of course, the final decision depended on the outcome tonight.

  He couldn’t stay with the Appalachian pack. It hadn’t felt like home in years, had stopped being welcoming too long ago. There were too many werewolves here, and he felt closed in on him, constantly pressured by their suspicion of him and what he was. Oh, they accepted him readily enough. What choice did they have? But he’d never truly belong here. Hunters were turned away from no pack, too important to the survival of their species. But trusted? Welcomed? That was another story. He could only count three men as friends, and now two of them were going to drive a wedge in their childhood pack.

  He was surprised at the turmoil that roiled through him, he who had felt nothing for so long. Everything hinged on the council and the two men before it. He studied them, saw through the casual poses to the fine tension beneath the surface. They had been best friends since childhood, and now faced each other in distrust and anger.

  Damn Brant for refusing to name a successor.

  Gage called the room to order, and Trey, projecting a calm he didn’t feel, turned to hear the verdict.

  “We have decided,” he said.

  It had to be banishment and forming a new pack for one of them.

  “Darius Stewart,” Gage continued, stepping forward. “You are to be banished.”

  The room erupted in calls, indecipherable in the combined babble. Relief washed through Trey. Things appeared to be going his way. Someone banged on the table for order once again, and Gage stared coolly at the gathering.

  “You will be allowed to start your own pack in the old Alabama lands. Any males of this pack who wish to join you will have one week to decide.”

  Darius nodded stiffly. “I understand.”

  “In accordance with the old laws, you will come back before us in one year’s time to be officially recognized. If you can’t hold the pack, you will be subject to challenge.”

  Not if Trey could help it.

  “Understood,” Darius said, ignoring the speculating murmur behind him.

  “Clear the room,” Gage ordered.

  The rest of the meeting would continue in private. It was only a matter of minutes before silence descended on the group, but to Trey it seemed like hours. He was unexpectedly nervous at putting his plan into action.

  Most of the people in the room left when ordered, and it only took one hard look from Trey to get the rest moving. Finally he shut the door behind the last straggler and turned to find Gage, head cocked to the side, studying him. Then Anthony stepped forward, and Trey knew this was long past time. Presenting his famed outer composure, he strode to the front of the room.

  “Are you sure?” the leader of the hunters asked.

  Trey exhaled in relief. There would be no arguments, no asking him to stay.

  “I'm sure,” he answered, smiling slightly.

  He felt Darius and Jackson watching him, obviously wondering what was going on. He’d arrived home two days ago to find everything in turmoil, and avoided them until this moment.

  Anthony nodded his acceptance.

  “When you swore your oath as hunter, you also swore never to seek to be alpha. Is that your intention now?”

  “No,” he answered firmly, cringing inwardly at the ritual question. No way in hell was probably an inappropriate response, but it still found its way to the tip of his tongue. He bit it back, maintaining his still stance before them.

  “I hate to lose you, Trey, but I free from your oath.” He shook his head at Jackson and Darius. “But now you will have to choose between your friends, and a hunter doesn’t have many to choose from. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do.”

  “So do you stay with the pack, or go with Darius?”

  “I’ll go to Alabama,” he answered.

  Chapter One


  The house was in the forest a few miles from the closest town, Haven, Alabama. It was a cozy little A-frame with a wide porch on back. Lying hidden in a dark, back corner of that deck, the sleek, black wolf lifted his head, letting the conversation drift out around him. Two women chatted peacefully inside, one small and curvy with rich brown hair. Meg O’Reilly was the pack leader’s mate, and in his absence the pack watched over her, especially here in her own home, isolated as it was. The wolf had come to like her. She was fiery and strong and giving Darius a run for his money.

  The other though…she was an enigma.

  Tara Burke was not his type. She was average height, too skinny, and had weird spiky, wine-colored pixie hair. But since he’d first seen her, he was obsessed. He'd decided she was the perfect height, not average at all. She’d fit so snuggly tucked under his arm. And skinny? No, she was long and sleek, and he longed to feel her legs wrapped around him when he stroked deep into her.

  She had the face of a pixie with her delicate upturned nose, funky hair, big eyes, and sharp chin. Then there was her scent. The wolf edged towards the door, breathing deep--cinnamon and chocolate and something that vaguely reminded him of baking bread. That scent was going to be the death of him. She smelled of home and stability, and things a man and wolf like him had no right to dream of.

  Darius had been gone for two weeks. Trey had spent that time hunting for a rogue wolf, guarding Meg O’Reilly, and also watching over Tara Burke. The rogue continued to evade him, frustrating him with his seeming invisibility. Though it appeared he had stopped stalking their people, Trey’s gut told him not to let his guard down. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  As he watched, Tara stood and carried something to the sink, pausing to stare out at the night. If he weren’t so well hidden, he’d swear she looked right at him. His mate. He felt the truth of it deep in his marrow.

  He shook his head. The lack of sleep was surely driving him insane. He was turning fanciful. Thank God, Darius was due home any minute, and that after work, Tara had headed straight for Meg and safety. With a rogue wolf on the loose, he was glad to see her was using her head and avoiding spending her evenings alone. He was looking forward to some down time tonight.

  When she spoke to Meg though, he silently cursed his luck.

  “It’s nine already,” she sighed. “I need to get going if I plan to get any sleep tonight.”

  So much for the down time. He quickly shifted and reached for the cell phone and clothes he'd tucked in the nearby shadows. He wasn’t taking the chance of leaving either woman alone. His call was answered on the first ring.

  “Randall, I need you to watch Meg,” he ordered

  “On my way,” the man answered without hesitation.

  Once dressed, Trey stepped into the light spilling onto the deck just as Tara turned, lifting her hand to her throat. Unfortunately, she was afraid of him, not just his sudden appearance outside the door. He didn’t want things to begin between them this way, but he had no time to make unobtrusive arrangements. There was no way he was letting her travel the dark country roads alone.

  Meg turned and smiled in question, obviously wondering why one of the werewolves was suddenly making his presence known. A brief half-smile in response was all he could manage before his gaze unerringly returned to Tara.

  He saw her several days a week, often making excuses to stop by her place for coffee, trying to ease her into relaxing around him. But always, as soon as he walked through her door, she tensed, apprehension in her pretty blue eyes. His intensity put a lot of people off, but the stab of hurt he experienced that his own mate feared him surprised him.

  A pretty blush spread up her neck, the pulse beating wildly on her throat. Maybe he’d given her too much room. There was wariness in her gaze, yes, but something else she tried to conceal. Interest. She stepped back, breaking free of his stare, and looking helplessly at Meg, who jumped in to introduce them.

  “Tara, have you met Trey Williams yet?” She turned and winked at him. What was she up to? She knew they'd met, had seen him in the bakery. “This is my cousin, Tara. She owns the bakery downtown.”

  “We’ve met,” he replied.

  “Yeah,” Tara answered in a fake cheery voice. “Well, I need to be heading out.” She cast a suspicious look at him and turned to Meg. “You gonna be okay?”

  Meg laughed. “I'll be fine.”

  Reaching out, Trey grabbed Tara’s arm as she stepped toward the door. He was surprised at the shock of recognition and lust that jolted through him at the touch of her skin and couldn’t resist tugging her closer. With every sense focused so acutely on her, it would have been impossible to miss the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her tongue darted over suddenly irresistible lips. Meg’s discreet cough was the only thing that saved him from claiming the mouth that had been haunting him for weeks in an aggressive kiss.

  He reigned in his hunger and slid his hand down her arm to capture her fingers. “You can’t leave yet,” he said softly, noting the change from lust to anger darken her eyes. It was fascinating. Everything about her captivated him.

  He let her pull free, though he had to fight every instinct to do so. She stepped back only to find herself brought up short by the tall counter that separated the kitchen and living areas. The compulsion to follow her was irresistible and he didn’t even try. He followed, pinning her between two bar stools. She had nowhere to retreat. Her nostrils flared in anger and she leaned around him to see Meg.

  “Can’t you do something about this oaf?”

  “Um, probably not, no.” Meg laughed, moving to a front window as car lights swept the room.

  “That’ll be Randall,” he said, looking down at Tara. “As soon as he’s settled, I’ll take you home.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Palms flat against his chest, she hesitated, then pushed him away. His blood heated at her touch, and he almost didn’t give her the illusion that she had control of the situation. His wolf side was clamoring to claim her, here and now, willing or not.

  A second set of headlights flashing through the room divided his attention. He had made only one phone call.

  “Stop!” he barked at Meg as she reached for the door handle. In a few quick strides he positioned himself between her and the door while she looked up at him, startled. He nudged her away.

  “Go over there with Tara. Let me see who this is.”

  He waited until she was across the room, then eased the door open in time to see Darius sending Randall off. Opening it wider, he moved aside for Darius and retreated back to Tara’s side.

  “Darius,” Meg said in voice filled with welcome as she rushed across the room.

  Trey watched, jealousy eating at him as the big man, his friend and alpha, swept his mate up in a fierce clasp. He wondered what it would take to get Tara to greet him like that. Even as an observer, the kiss was searing and he looked away.

  Automatically his gaze sought her out, also watching the lovers and gaping in disbelief at her relative. Amusement broke jealousy’s grip. Her gaze snapped to him and he enjoyed the flush that rushed over her skin. He started to reach for her when he heard Darius’s humor filled voice behind him.

  “Trey, I seem to remember you saying you weren’t going to lose your head when it happened to you.”

  He shot Darius a cautioning look followed by a slight headshake. Tara was still in the dark about what they were, and her role in his life. It was obvious Darius took the hint when his eyebrow arched in disapproval. Trey ignored him. He was used to going his own way.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, reaching for her keys

  “What are you doing?” She looked between his face and her keys, and held her hand out. “Give those back. Please.”

  Sighing, he laced their fingers together. “I’m taking you home. Get over it.”

  He wondered if he could get away with taking her to the house a mile down the road that he’d just bought, but one look at her drawn fac
e convinced him not to try. She may feel something between them, but she obviously wasn’t happy with it.

  “Meg will vouch for me. I’m perfectly safe,” he said, trying to look innocent.

  “Sure you are,” she answered, a grin tugging the corners of her lips when Meg nodded. With a heavy sigh she, pulled free of his grasp, and picked up her bag.

  “Let’s go then. I have to be at work at three and the night ain’t getting any younger.”

  Chapter Two

  The car ride was silent and tense. Disturbing. Her SUV had never felt so closed in before, and she knew it was because of the big man driving next to her. She started to give him directions when they left Meg’s, but his curt “I know where I’m going” had shut her up.

  It surprised her that she wasn’t creeped out to discover he knew where she lived. Instead she was curious, and okay, seriously turned on. How had she ended up with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself, Trey Williams, the mysterious private investigator who recently bought old man MacCallister’s company?

  Meg said he was okay and a witch would know, right?

  Still, it was surreal. First the man started hanging out in her bakery, his cool gaze silently taking in every graceless misstep she took. He made her nervous, left her feeling tongue-tied and awkward. Could she help it if he was drop dead gorgeous? Given half the chance, she was sure that tall lean body would be addicting. He could be her new chocolate. Well, if he was interested, that is. And apparently he wasn’t. Didn’t life suck? Then, to be horribly unfair, he started to haunt her dreams. Incredibly hot, erotic dreams that left her in unfulfilled agony for hours after she woke. Now, faced with the real thing right next to her, she was surprised she wasn’t panting in need. Her panties had grown uncomfortably wet. How did he do this to her?

  Maybe assuming he wasn’t interested was a mistake, though. Sneaking a look at him, she noticed his jaw clenched hard and his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Was he angry or thinking about something else entirely? It was impossible to guess.