Desert Moon (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 1) (6 page)

Every living thing in the desert stopped, listening to their song in a reverent hush. But just as they struck their most perfect chord, Ty’s voice cut off in mid-cry.

A deathly quiet suffocated the hills, and her head snapped left to study Ty. In an instant, her mate had gone from singer to solid rock. His hackles were raised from nape to tail and his nose pointed at something—someone?—out in the shadows.

She tried to chisel some feature out of the darkness as a dozen mixed emotions coursed through her veins. Anger was foremost: anger at the trespasser who’d interrupted their serenade and made her mate an alpha again, protector of his pack. Awe came in a close second, because the power radiating off Ty was overwhelming. In the space of a heartbeat, he’d morphed from tender lover to king of the night. He stood stiff and tall, his only movement the flare of his nostrils and his bristling fur.

She sniffed the air. There was something out there, all right. Something distant and barely perceptible, like the pressure front at the leading edge of a desert storm. The hair along her spine spiked. Could it be the rogues?

When Ty shifted forward, she did the same. He took a step west, sniffing, then swung his head back to her with a quiet growl. Their special moment was gone, and he wanted her gone so he could tend to the threat hovering in the night.

Go
, his hard eyes said.

She took a defiant step forward. She would not be cowed. She would stand by him, not retreat. She would fight alongside him. She would—

Go. Now
. That steely look was a direct order, alpha to subordinate.

Everything in her wanted to hate him at that moment. But instead of hating, her heart cracked wider open. Didn’t he know he didn’t have to face every enemy alone? Didn’t he know she wanted to stand by his side?

His look didn’t waver, and she had her answer. Duty came first with this man, duty above everything else.

Lana wanted to protest, but an order from an alpha was law, and she had no choice but to obey. It hurt, though, being brushed aside. Just like the frustrating days of her childhood, before she’d finally earned the right to fight alongside her brothers and make a stand for her pack.

But this wasn’t her pack, not yet, anyway. Her shoulders turned away, and although her eyes tried to hang on to Ty, they, too were forced to join the retreat. She could practically hear the snakeweed snicker. Would this alpha ever respect her as an equal, or would he only see her as helpless and meek?

Lana didn’t do helpless. She didn’t know meek. She was a fighter, a leader in her own right.

Her human side bucked against his rejection. He didn’t want her help? Well, she didn’t want or need that kind of mate.

Her wolf, though, howled in protest, seeing a lifetime of regret ahead if she didn’t act.
No! We can’t give him up without a fight!

They’d been so close to some great truth a moment ago. She could feel it. Finally her heart was waking up, like a seed that had been waiting for exactly the right conditions to germinate—and now this?

She gave her coat a violent shake, launching all but the most resolute burrs back into the scrub. Damned if she wasn’t going to give her heart its due. Her stumble became a trot, her mind plotting as her paws padded over the cool ground. Tonight might not be the moment, but soon, she would find a way to win her mate. And if it ended in an excruciating crash and burn, well, at least she would know she’d tried.

Watch out, Alpha
, she half-muttered as she slipped back toward the ranch.
Next time, I won’t let you let me go.

CHAPTER SIX

For three days, Lana cast furtive glances around the ranch for Ty. The few times she spotted the alpha, he was silently smoldering or emitting his two-syllable version of speech. Even from a distance, she could feel the air shimmer and tense between them, but each time she sent a tentative thought his way, it hit a firewall. Shifters could usually sense one another’s moods well, but Ty was unreadable. And if she got too close, he simply moved off in the opposite direction. Surely she hadn’t been imagining the connection they’d made that night on the hill, so why was he avoiding her now?

A creeping doubt set in, telling her if she didn’t act soon, she might lose her chance at her mate. But when to act, and how? She could hardly force the pack alpha to bend to her will.

Worse yet were the doubts. What if he never came around? What if he didn’t want her? What if this was all just another cruel trick of destiny?

The one time she saw a woman touch Ty, her blood welled up so fast, she thought it might erupt out of her ears. It was Audrey again, that bleached blond who worked every inch of her voluptuous curves. The woman had the subtle social graces of a stripper. She didn’t walk; she swung, working an invisible audience. When she laid a groping hand on Ty’s forearm, every hair on Lana’s neck went stiff. She barely held her wolf in check as Ty extracted himself and moved away. Audrey had watched him go with the look of a raptor eying its prey. Or was it a fox, plotting her next move? Either way, Lana decided to add Audrey to the list of dangers out here in the Wild West.

The rest of the pack members were friendly enough, though busy in their own pursuits. That was fine with Lana; she was here to help her grandmother settle in, not to socialize. According to Jean, there were close to two hundred shifters on the ranch, many scattered across isolated parts of the vast property. Some of them worked the land, while the rest were involved in broader pack businesses that ranged across Central Arizona, from construction to consultancies and commercial real estate. Relations with their immediate neighbors were generally good, though a change in management over at the neighboring Seymour Ranch was the subject of concern, especially since an adjoining corner of that property had been deeded to the state as park land. The last thing the pack wanted was outsiders anywhere near their home.

“We could use someone like you, Lana!” Jean said as they hung pictures on day three.

They could, Lana knew. Back at home, she worked on land management issues, and the stakeholders she negotiated between were essentially the same as they were here: the pack, the public, commercial interests, and environmental lobbyists. So, yes, she could bring a lot of experience to Twin Moon Ranch.

If she wanted to stay.

One sniff of the desert air reminded Lana just why she should, and just why she shouldn’t.

She changed the subject quickly. “How real is this rogue threat?”

“I’m sure Ty has it under control,” Jean said with forced calm.

She held back a snort. The only way to control a rogue was a fight to the death, and from the sound of it, there were several on the prowl. Would it come to that? She had to admit that she itched to fight, to act. Anything to ease the tension in the air.

More than that, she itched with a desperate need to connect with Ty. That need wasn’t just rooted in her heart or mind; it was hard-wired into her soul, and her whole being ached with it. For years, she’d been telling herself that a broken heart was as bad as it got, but now she was thinking that a functioning one was even worse.
Ty, Ty, Ty
. His name was a chant in her blood, and it pulsed through every part of her body, day and night.

She’d tried running off her frustration after dark, but found only temporary relief. The minute she stopped moving and shifted back to her human form, she would lie in bed burning from her own heat. Using her fingers on herself provided only the slightest bit of the release she craved. It worked if she imagined Ty’s hands gliding over her body and sliding into her core, imagined that it was his weight pressing down on her instead of emptiness. But afterwards, she was just as heated and empty as before.

“How are you doing, sweetie?” Nan asked, pulling her attention back to the house.

“Fine, fine,” Lana lied between hammer blows to a nail on the wall where her grandmother wanted a picture.

“Enjoying the ranch?”

Lana pinched the next nail between her lips and made as neutral a sound as she could, then gave the first nail another couple of murderous hits. She’d be enjoying the ranch a hell of a lot more if Ty would stop avoiding her.

She tried to shake the feeling off, but it was as deeply rooted as the porcupine quills she’d seen lodged in the muzzle of a miserable-looking ranch dog. That was her: a stupid mutt. If only someone would come along with a pair of pliers and yank the heartache out of her.

Surely her happiness didn’t depend on one man, let alone a bossy alpha.
You can damn well function without a man.

Her wolf snarled.
Not without this one!

The beast was getting more and more difficult to control. Lana didn’t want to think what would happen when the waxing moon filled. Would she chase Ty to the ends of the Earth or do the smart thing: run the hell away?

She paced, muttered, and endured for three aching days and two torturous nights, until the night of the full moon.

# # #

The moon wasn’t just full; it was painfully full. Bloated, even. Lana slipped out of the suffocating adobe bungalow and shifted, wondering what the night would bring.

Her wolf was eager to get out and run. Too eager, maybe, but the beast wouldn’t be denied. So she loped out past the circle of light that defined the inner ranch and into the pale black-and-white world that was the desert at night. She sniffed in the direction of Ty’s hill, but there was no fresh trail pulling her that way. Instead, she ranged south and west and found herself heading toward the corner where pack land met Seymour Ranch property. When a truck rattled past on the dirt road below, she ducked behind a spindly bush and tucked in her tail. Who was in such a hurry at this time of night?

She followed in a crouched run for a good mile before the truck came to stop beside two others. One vehicle on these roads was normal. Two might be called a conference. But three? Something was definitely wrong. She squinted into the crescent of headlights. Her breath hitched when she spotted Ty stepping out of the truck. Cody seemed to have arrived first, and the brothers locked gazes just long enough to mentally communicate some urgent message.

Three other men stood to the side, spitting angry looks. They converged with Ty and Cody and created one seething huddle. Even from a distance, she could tell Cody was trying to keep things calm. Ty, on the other hand, was a picture of barely controlled fury. The other three were rifle-toting humans who looked all too itchy to shoot.

She crept forward, keeping to the shadows. Her nose wrinkled, catching the unmistakable scent of coagulated blood and bloated flesh. A morbid kind of curiosity drew her onward. What—or who—had died here?

Another careful step, and she had the answer. Dead sheep. She could make out the carcasses now, three or four of them tossed about a slope. They’d been shredded alive by some animal bent on destruction. She crept closer and sniffed again, then pulled her head back at the tell-tale acid scent of rogues.

They must have come and gone hours ago, but they were sure to strike again. Somewhere, sometime. Soon.

Except the smell was too overpowering to come from just a couple of sheep. She crouched lower, letting the fur of her belly brush the ground as she crept forward to peer over a rise. Clumps of desert scrub shifted and waved in the slight breeze. Among them were softer, rounder heaps that didn’t stir at all. She drew back at the sight of more dead sheep. Many more. Her eyes made out the brand on the nearest body—a double S—and her mind spun. Clearly, the three humans from Seymour Ranch hadn’t seen the extent of the carnage. Once they did, they’d kick up a fuss from here to the state capital. An investigation would ensue, and the pack’s fragile anonymity would be threatened.

She had to help distract them. Cody and Ty were still talking to the men, obviously trying to draw them away from the hollow where the majority of the sheep lay. A diversion, that’s what they needed. But what? She glanced around, wondering if she could set off a rock slide or let out a howl. No, it would be foolish to appear in wolf form here. They’d blame her for the massacre. What then?

The three humans were already pushing past Cody and moving toward the side of the road. In another minute, they would discover the rest of the sheep and all hell would break loose. Without giving much thought to her plan, she shifted back to her human form, her mind was spinning with a single thought.

Fast.
She had to act fast.

# # #

Ty stopped just short of yanking the Seymour ranchers back from the edge of the road. So they were angry—so what? He personally had leapfrogged anger and gone straight to fury.

Yas was responsible for this carnage. He knew it. Clearly, the rogue was back with a band of troublemakers and was once again trying to pit humans against wolves in the hope that they’d kill each other off. The Seymour Ranch hands would set off a massive wolf hunt, which in turn would rile up his fellow shifters. Sooner or later, things would escalate. All it took was one of his cockier packmates to shift in plain view of a human, and the pack’s true nature would be exposed.

Ty shook his head, keeping his wolf shackled inside. Didn’t Yas realize that trouble for the wolf pack would eventually extend to his own brethren?

Right. Like rogues were capable of thinking that far ahead or that clearly.

The last few days had been agonizing even without the threat of rogues. He had taken to running night patrols just to keep his mind off Lana. Whenever he let himself get too close to her, he was squeezed in a vice between duty and overwhelming desire. Too far, and his wolf strained at a rapidly fraying leash.

All week, he’d struggled to find a solution. Somehow, he had to lock out emotion and get on with his life. Above all, he had to get Lana to safety, even if it meant denying himself. There were too many dangers for her here. He could tick them off on three fingers: one, the rogues. Two, his father. Three, himself. Because what if that humming force started up between them again? He’d never be able to resist, and it wouldn’t end well for her, just as it hadn’t ended well for his mother, or any of his father’s women.