Christmas Moon (3 page)

She rifled through her closet and dug out a
pair of pajamas, letting the towel fall to the ground as she pulled
the oversized white t-shirt over her head and slipped into a pair
of baggy scrub pants. She turned to dig her slippers out from under
the bed, the towel on her head tumbling to the ground in front of
her when a soft thud sounded against the glass in her bedroom.

Her heart froze for a second, her inner dog
rising to the surface.

She hadn’t let the canine out in months. But
this time it brought a growl to her lips and simmered just under
the surface, waiting to be let loose. Danger. Bree took a steadying
breath, her slippers all but forgotten, and scoured the room even
as she sidestepped closer to her bedside table.

She could feel the fur just under her skin
and her spine prickled. Nothing but darkness outside her window and
the smallest sliver of a moon. Damn her.

What had her so jumpy all of a sudden?

The phone trilled in the living room and she
startled. Stupid question. “Damn kids,” she muttered under her
breath and knelt to scoop her slippers out from under the bed.
Maybe she
would
let Hunter deal with the brats when he
figured out who was behind this. She couldn’t even get ready for
bed in peace anymore.

The phone rang again but she ignored it, only
to hear the sharp slap of flesh hitting glass. A scream built in
her chest as she spun. A hand flattened over her window, only to
pull back and smack it again.

“Fuck,” she breathed. Years of being a Hound
had left her reactions automatic. She moved quickly for the bedside
table and drew out her gun, checking the chamber as she padded
towards the window.

In the second she’d taken her eyes off the
window to glance at her weapon the hand had vanished. It had looked
larger than a kid’s though. Her jaw tightened. Probably another
wolf in the pack. But she was done cowering in her own house. Gun
at her side, Bree headed toward the front of her house, shoving her
feet in her shoes before she shoved her way outside.

The cold winter wind hit her like a punch and
she shuddered, almost tempted to go back for a coat. Her long red
hair hung wet past her shoulders, soaking through her shirt. Not
cold enough to freeze, but cold enough that her breath spun out
past her lips in small wisps.

Bree moved along the edge of her house, snow
crunching under foot, with her gun stretched out in front of her in
a double handed grip. She let the inner dog rise up inside her,
called up the Hound magick that had lain unused for so long, and
the darkness seemed to brighten. She could see the various shades
of gray in the shadows, the spidery bare branches, the large
footprints in the snow.

Definitely not a kid.

Bree curled back her lips, the cold press of
metal in her hands reassuring. Somebody was playing with her. And
it wasn’t just some pup.

Her gaze cut through the darkness, watching.
Waiting.

***

Hunter stretched out into an easy lope,
letting his wolf revel in the freedom that came with running over
the snow. The red and green of his Christmas lights reflected
against the snow, casting the shadows in shades of color. His
breath puffed out in clouds behind him as he bent his head to the
cold, crisp ground and inhaled. Picking up pace he left behind the
lone house on the hill and headed toward the forest that stretched
between his house and Bree’s.

Pack territory stretched through most of
White Pine and as Hunter wove through the trees a sense of peace
surrounded him. Freedom. Home. The cold earth under his paws had
him wagging his tail like a pup. His nose twitched as he scoured
the ground, eager for a scent.

A hare had passed through here not too long
ago. His stomach rumbled. He’d had enough of the pack over at his
house that somehow they’d managed to eat him out of dinner before
he’d so much as had a bite.

With a grunt, he turned down the trail, his
tail swaying happily as he started the hunt. The night forest was
quiet, but he heard the movement of a small critter up ahead and
picked up his pace. His footfalls were light, fast, barely breaking
the top of the hardened snow.

The scent trail wove through a copse of small
bushes and he angled toward them when he crossed the scent of
another wolf. Male. Unfamiliar. Hunter froze, a snarl rising inside
him as his ears flicked forward. It was fresh and as he stepped
closer he recognized the signs of boot tracks in the snow. Whoever
it was had blown through here in human form. He turned to follow
when he paused, one paw lifted as he glanced back the way the wolf
had come.

What the hell was a rogue doing on pack
territory?

He scanned the barren winter trees, the scent
of pine and frost burning at his nose. He pictured his territory
laid out to the east and stiffened. Breanne Torres lived in the
house closest to this point. It wasn’t that far from Hunter’s
house, but the tracks were on her land. Fighting the urge to follow
the rogue, he headed toward the lonely house and the single woman
inside it.

He had to make sure she was okay before he
went hunting.

Picking up pace, he ran in the direction of
the small bungalow. He broke from the trees, just as he heard a
sharp, “Freeze!”

Hunter jerked, every muscle in his body stiff
as he skidded to a halt in the snow, frozen. Breanne stood at the
edge of her back porch, in nothing but baggy pants and a t-shirt,
with her gun aimed straight at him. The hard look in her eyes every
bit the Hound she’d once been. Nothing at all like the meek woman
that had invited him in for hot chocolate.

“Shift.” She snapped the word out, anger
pouring out of her in waves. Not that he could blame her.

The vandalized property, the prank phone
calls, now someone snooping around her house.

He glanced across the snow, saw the broken
tracks stretched over her yard. It led rid up to the side of her
house, the tracks traveling from window to window. His lips curled
back and a growl poured out of him before he could stop it.

“Shift or I will shoot.” The words were iron
when they came and they jarred Hunter back to the present. He
couldn’t deal with the bastard now.

Right now, the
only
thing he could do
was shift and try and talk her down. Hopefully avoiding getting
shot in the process.

Hunter took a deep, steadying breath and
pulled the wolf back inside him until he knelt in her backyard,
fully clothed, and human again. It was magick, pure and simple.

Bree startled at the sight of him and he
lifted both hands above his head.

“It’s just me.”

“And why are you lurking around my
house?”

“Because I smelled a rogue and followed his
tracks here. Use your nose, Breanne. I’m not the one who was
standing under your window.”

She lowered her gun and a shiver racked
through her as the wind played across the yard. His thick flannel
shirt helped fend off the cold, but one look at her and she wasn’t
wearing anything that would protect her out here. His attention
drifted over her wet hair, to the soaked shirt, her nipples taut
under the thin fabric.

Damn. But that wasn’t a visual he’d needed.
He closed his eyes for a breath, tried to wipe it out of his mind,
but all he wanted to do was stride across the lawn and pull her
close to him. Embrace her with his warmth. And hell, he wanted to
do more than that.

“Why don’t we go inside?” he whispered.
Hunter forced himself to look her in the eye. “We can both get warm
and you can tell me what happened.”

She lifted her chin, defiant. “I want you to
deal with your wolf.”

“He’s not mine.” Hunter strode toward her,
ignoring the way she stiffened, her gaze darting toward her window
then the forest beyond him. “A rogue,” he added softly.

Then he was standing in front of her, so
close if he leaned forward he could take her lips in a soft kiss.
It would be soft too, because Breanne needed gentle, soothing.
Despite the anger swirling in her gaze, he could smell the raw edge
of fear to her. She needed comfort right now.

He reached out and touched her face. Her skin
was cold to the touch and this close he could see the constant
trembling running through her. “Let’s go inside, you’re
freezing.”

His thumb trailed over her cheek right under
her eye and Bree relaxed into the touch, her eyes drifting shut. A
strangled breath caught in his throat as he stepped closer, his
other hand slipping to her hip as he pulled her against him. She
was so cold, but he had no doubt that wasn’t the only reason she
was shaking. His lips brushed her forehead and when she didn’t make
a sound in protest, he slipped his hand down to her jaw, tilted her
lips up, and stole a soft kiss.

Just a quick press of his lips on hers, there
and gone. But it left him shaken, wanting more, so much more.

Bree didn’t protest as he pulled her to his
side. “Back door unlocked?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Her voice was hollow when it came and he
wanted nothing more than to get her inside.

Hunter led them around to the front of her
house, but as they rounded the corner he let his gaze drift out
amongst the surrounding forest. No one stared back at him from the
darkness, but he’d be damned if he let this slide. Rogues weren’t
welcome on his land.

And they sure as hell wouldn’t be allowed to
harass what was his.

He flashed the darkness a feral smile before
leading Bree back to the warmth and safety of her house.

Chapter Four

Bree was shivering so hard her teeth were
chattering by the time they made it inside. Her gun shook in her
hand and she couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that came
from her. Even if she’d had to shoot, she doubted if she’d have hit
anything at all.

She pulled away from Hunter and strode into
her living room, setting the gun on the coffee table. She tugged
the over-sized afghan off the couch and wrapped it around her
shoulders. It didn’t help. She couldn’t stop shaking.

Then Hunter was in front of her, his hands on
her shoulders as he turned her toward the couch. “Sit.”

He said it like a man too used to control.
Bree titled her head back to look at him, her lips parted with a
protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. Heat blazed in the
wolf-gold embers of his eyes. Burning and bright, and he closed
those last few inches between them, the warmth of his body finally
soothing away the cold that lingered in hers. His head bent and
Bree’s breath caught her throat.

He’d kissed her out there and she’d let him
because it hadn’t been anything at all. Just a soft comfort,
something she’d needed.

But right here and now, it would be something
different. It’d mean a hell of a lot more.

“Hunter,” she said softly.

His brows furrowed. “You change so fast.”

She didn’t know what he meant by that, but
he’d pulled away, falling to sit on her couch before tugging her
down beside him. He tucked her under his arm, but as much as Bree
knew she should argue, she couldn’t. He was so damn warm and she
couldn’t seem to escape the shivers wracking through her. She
closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest.

They sat there in silence for a moment, his
fingers trailing a circle against her wrist.

“What do you mean I ‘change so fast’?”

His fingers paused for a second, and then
resumed their gentle caress.

“One moment you’re raw strength, ready to
take on the world. The next you’re vulnerable, scared. Outside, you
were shaking but you were in control. You had fear on a leash. In
here?” His head turned and she could feel his breath against her
cheek. “With just me, all that uncertainty seems to pour back into
you.”

Bree swallowed. Surprised. She pressed her
hand against his chest to pull away but Hunter tightened his hold,
refusing to let her go. “Hunter,” she said again, and his name was
becoming a soft litany on her lips.

“Breanne,” he answered, just as softly and
she laughed, relaxing. Fine, she’d give the big, bad wolf his
cuddle. She felt him relax the moment she did and smiled.
Apparently he needed to be held just as much as she did. She
stroked her fingers over the warm flannel of his shirt.

“You said you smelled him and came to check
on me. What were you doing outside in the first place?”

“Hunting. The pack ate all my food.
Again.”

The way he said it, dry with humor, made her
smile. He didn’t care at all. He liked having them close. She
tilted her head up to tell him just that when her gaze met his. His
eyes were dark, honeyed, and none of the heat from early had banked
at all. Fire still burned in the dark amber depths.

A shiver burst through her again and Hunter
pulled her close, tugging the blanket tighter around her.

“You should have at least worn a coat. You’re
freezing,” he said and his voice was rough, gravelly. “Tell me what
happened.”

She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “I
got out of the shower—”

Bree paused for a second, replaying the
night. The trees tapping against the glass, the pain her memories
always brought with them when they surfaced, the sudden slap of a
hand against her bedroom window. A chill stole through her and she
went numb. What if he’d been there the whole time, watching
her?

“Bree?”

The familiar nickname sounded strange on his
lips. She hadn’t heard someone call her that in a long a time. Not
since she’d left Shifter Town Enforcement, left her home, holed up
here. Bree turned her face into his chest and inhaled the rich
scent of his cologne.

“I don’t know how long he was there.” She
grimaced at the thought. He could have been watching her the entire
time in the bathroom. Her jaw tightened. “I heard a few noises on
the bathroom window, didn’t see a thing though. I assumed it was
just the wind in the trees. So I went to the bedroom to get ready
for bed. I leaned over to fetch my slippers out from under the bad
when I heard something large hit the window pane. It was his hand.
Taunting.”