Moonlight Page 10

  Her mother had been no better. As soon as she’d gotten wind of her mate’s infidelities she decided, as was in her nature, to fight fire with fire. The two would lob their respective affairs in each other's faces. But they always came back together in the end, at least for a time.

  It had never made sense to Viviane. If wolves mated for life, why did her parents cheat, and why did they constantly have to fight to prove their love.

  Standing at the water’s edge tonight were men she’d grown up with. There was Samuel, who she’d shoved into the mud after he pulled at her pigtails. There was Pedro, who she’d beat at soccer until he and the other boys began excluding her from playing with them. Standing at the center of the group was Jesus. His smolder was trained on some girl in the crowd. Viviane couldn’t make out which one, though she did spy her mother’s dark mane in the mix of females. And then she saw Pierce.

  Pierce stood next to Jesus. There was an amiable smile on his face. He must think them primitive for practicing these ancient traditions. She was sure if she’d ever dared to bring Daniel home, he’d want to break out lab tools and measure each wolf’s response to stimuli.

  But not Pierce. He took it all in good humor. He had to be done with the whole lot of them by now. He must be wishing he’d never said ‘hello’ to her on the train. Their bargain had crept far beyond the initial parameters they’d set.

  He’d been out each afternoon to herd the sheep with her mother. Diego and DJ would then steal him away for help in the fields in the evening. Then her aunts would pull him into the kitchen to help with last meal. He went along with it all, holding that amiable smile on his face. It never wavered. Not even at twilight when he had to share a small, twin-sized bed with her.

  His smile would relax. His breathing would slow. The space between his brows would ease into a soft curve. She knew because she’d often wake in the early dawn light to look at him.

  She’d begun waking early to see if he was still there. She didn’t want to be caught unawares when he snuck out of her bed and out of her life for good. But with each passing dawn that he remained, she’d grown accustomed to waking in the comfortable cradle of his arms, and then taking in his peaceful countenance as her morning ritual.

  This morning she’d awakened, paralyzed with the fear that he was gone. She’d gripped his biceps hard enough to wake him. When he woke, his arms tightened around her, and then his hand found her belly. He’d gazed down at her with such compassion and concern that Viviane had leapt out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. She’d feigned morning sickness, and in truth it was a type of sickness. It just wasn’t in her belly.

  Standing under the Moon’s bright glare in the middle of the night she looked up at the full disk. She felt the rays calling to her. The Moon pulled the water’s tides high at her ankles. She felt the turning in her belly that she had to stand here in this ridiculous getup. She felt gas bubbles as she stood in the traditional, foamy costume waiting for the event to begin. Then she realized; it wasn’t indigestion. It was the baby kicking.

  It startled her. Before now she’d only thought of the baby in her belly as a foreign object. Feeling its movement now from within, she paused.

  She would be responsible for this little person in her belly. She hadn’t considered that it had feelings. That, like all of Earth’s creatures, it bowed to the Moon’s will.

  The baby tossed and turned inside her. Not enough to upset her belly, just enough to let Viviane know she was there, that he was listening. Viviane wondered if they heard her thoughts? She wondered if the child would like her?

  At that moment Pierce chose to look up. He caught her gaze. He offered her a humor-filled smile. The smile said he thought this was as ridiculous as she did. But he would play along with this, too, if she needed him to. His eyes told her they were in this together. He would stand by her. That she wasn’t alone.

  He’d called them partners, and they were. Like the Moon’s position in the sky, it was the truth. Pierce listened to her when he was uncertain. He guided her when he had a better idea. And he’d stood by her when neither was sure. That was true partnership.

  Viviane wanted the pact between them to never end. But just as the Moon would pass through this phase of fullness and return to her crescent shape, the pact between her and Pierce could not last far beyond this night. Yet he was forever a part of her life. She would tell the cub in her belly that Pierce Alcede was his or her father because this man was exactly the type of father she’d wished her child could have.

  The signal was made. Pierce turned away from her. The men took off.

  It began as a foot race. The group ran a distance on human legs. Then the men stripped and shifted into their wolf form. As they did so, Viviane got an eye full of Pierce. She was far away, but not so far that she couldn’t see how impressive he was. Apparently he’d gotten over his city shyness and stripped down with the rest of the city wolves. They leapt into the air as men and landed as wolves.

  The wolves raced around the pond. In the lead were Pierce and Jesus. Even in his wolf form Pierce was glorious. His strong legs pounded the earth. His long jaw, even in wolf form, held a huge grin.

  He and Jesus were neck and neck. They neared the water’s edge and dove. In the air each wolf transformed back into man. They slammed into the water and headed towards the platform that Viviane stood upon.

  She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath. But she had been. In the darkness of the water, she saw a black head of hair appear. She couldn’t tell if it was Pierce or Jesus.

  Her heart raced. The baby kicked in her belly. And finally Pierce emerged from the waters. He rose up onto the platform. His body came close to hers. She stretched her hand out. Her fingertips met the droplets that fell from his bare chest. He stood with her, naked under the Moon’s bright light.

  He was laughing. His hazel eyes sparkled in the moonlight. His lips parted, mouth open wide. Viviane had an overwhelming urge to know what the space between his lips felt like.

  She ran her hands over his chest, still warm from the heat of the change. Her palms glided over his strong abs. Her fingertips snaked up and around his neck. It was at that point that he became aware of what she was doing, of her intentions. His face changed from one of unadulterated joy to one of hungry desire.

  She wasn’t sure who pulled whom in first. Perhaps they both met in the middle, like the equals he purported them to be since they made their pact. His lips on hers were wet and warm. She tasted the salt of the water on the sweetness of his tongue.

  Standing in Pierce’s embrace, Viviane felt strong. She felt his support, and she gave in. She had never allowed a man to hold her like this. She had always taken charge. She had never been held by a man like Pierce, a man unafraid of her strength but at the same time confident enough to be vulnerable in front of her.

  His tongue delved into the depths of her and she allowed the claiming. She pressed her body to his; she felt the bump between them as she pressed her soft belly into his firm abs. She felt him stir below. She felt herself awaken like never before.

  The roar of the surrounding crowd is what finally pulled them apart. Viviane teetered as the space between she and Pierce grew. But Pierce did not let her go. He held onto her hand. He snaked an arm around her waist. He pulled her into his side.

  She had never thought she would want to belong to someone. She was an independent woman. She’d always thought relationships were about fifty-fifty. But with Pierce, sometimes he was the strong one. Other times, he let her lead. The math was never stable, but it was always equivalent. There was no need for dominance in this equation because where one party lacked, the other party made up for it. The math added up. She’d found an equal. And that’s when Viviane knew she was in real trouble.

  Chapter Seventeen

  That was a mistake. But it didn’t stop Pierce's wolf from licking its chops. Now, not only did he have the smell of Viviane on his nose and his body, he had the taste of her in his mouth.


  While his head had crested up and down in the waters, he’d caught sight of her. He thought he’d been hallucinating. She had been a vision standing in the center of the moonlit lake. She’d resembled the Goddess herself in that cloud of foam she wore.

  Pierce had never believed the stories. But with each glimpse of Viviane, his faith in myths grew. Somewhere between the shoreline and reaching her feet, it stopped being a game. It had become a matter of life and death; Jesus’ death if he dared touch that woman, his woman.

  When she’d taken his hand and pulled him up out of the water, it stopped being a fantasy. She'd stolen his breath with the force of her kiss. It had been like running fast into a headwind. The touch of her fingers on his face had been as feather light as the blades of grass at his paws while out herding. He'd wanted to roll around, allowing her hands to touch every inch of his naked body.

  Goddess be damned, he was in trouble.

  “I'm sorry about that back there,” Viviane said.

  They walked side by side now. He’d pulled on a loose pair of pants and shirt, but the garments were both dampened by the water still clinging to his skin. He and Viviane weaved through the festivalgoers that continually congratulated him on his triumph in the sun trials and congratulated them both on their unborn cub. They were keeping up the ruse of being together and in love, which is why Pierce's palm was pressed against hers, his fingers entwined down to the webbing.

  “Sorry about what?” he said.

  “The kiss.” She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand in small circles. “I didn't mean it.”

  They had to maneuver around a child running between adults. It would've been easiest if they simply released hands and broken apart. They raised their clasped hands and allowed the child to go beneath and between them. Once the child was past them, Pierce pulled her into his side. Viviane stayed tucked into him as fewer, and then fewer, people passed them by.

  “I mean, it wasn't me,” she said. “It's the hormones raging through me. I would've kissed anybody.”

  “Anybody, huh?”

  Pierce guided them farther away from the festivities. He was suddenly claustrophobic. This was the most people he'd been around since coming here. He felt crowded. That feeling was coming back; the feeling he got before he took off to roam. He pulled Viviane in tighter.

  “No, not anybody.” She wrapped the fingers of her other hand around his bicep and squeezed. The move felt oddly familiar. “You're one of a kind Pierce Alcede.”

  Viviane's cheek rested on his shoulder as they walked farther from the lake. Pierce couldn't resist putting his nose in her lush curls.

  He inhaled deeply. His wolf slipped its leash. It was an easy feat. Pierce rarely kept the beast at bay. And having been on the farm for nearly a week now, his wolf had never had a reason to keep a low profile. It could run whenever it wanted on the land.

  Now that he was out in the open air, he itched to shift and run. But he couldn't shift. There was something tethered to his arm; Viviane.

  She leaned into him as they walked. Her head rested trustingly against his shoulder. She must be tired after all the excitement. In the nights he'd known her she'd never shown him this much vulnerability. He had the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her to bed.

  The man in him wanted to care for her.

  The wolf in him wanted to ravage her.

  “You should go,” she said.

  Pierce nearly tripped. He caught himself before he could stumble. He had to. One false move and he could harm all three of them.

  “My family's becoming more and more dependent on you. They expect you to be there in the evening. They set a place for you at the table every afternoon. They're giving you more and more responsibilities. And one day you'll just disappear and they'll be devastated because they let themselves care about you.”

  Pierce buried his nose even deeper in her hair. His claws poked through his finger pads and snagged in the fabric of her dress. “I don't want to hurt anyone.”

  “I know. But you're doing too good a job of helping, and fitting in, and being a partner. Everyone thinks it's real.”

  He stopped walking. He turned her to face him. But to say what, exactly? His other hand, the one that wasn't snagged in her dress and nicking at her skin, brushed a curl out of her face. He felt a light breeze shift it back. Her soft skin called him to rub his face against hers. Her breath caught, and the exhalation landed on his tongue. He swallowed down the taste of her.

  “But it's not.” She said. “It’s not real.”

  Pierce watched the undulation of her throat. His gaze stopped at her collarbone. His mark was fading. His incisors throbbed to put it back where it belonged.

  “Is it?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it rang out loud in the night.

  Viviane called herself bossy, but she wasn't. At least not with him. There were some things she knew, and he was happy to let her take the lead. But there were also times when she was uncertain, unsure of herself. It was during those times that she deferred to him and his judgment.

  This was one of those times.

  Her lips trembled. She gave the bottom one a tug with her canine. Pierce hungered to see her wolf. His own paw reached up to tug her lip free of her sharp tooth. The pad of his thumb nicked the sharp edge of her tooth. But she didn't draw blood. A wave of disappointment rushed through him that her mark wasn't a part of him.

  “Is it over yet?”

  They both turned to Rhetta. She came from the opposite end of the path with the dogs trailing her. The dogs saw Pierce and made a beeline for him. Pierce crouched down to his haunches and opened his arms for the assault.

  “Heel,” said Rhetta.

  The dogs came to an abrupt stop. Pierce jerked to standing. His back was as straight as the dogs. His ears high and alert. He blinked a couple of times and looked at Rhetta who gazed at him critically. He felt he'd failed because he'd heeded the command a second too late.

  “Yeah,” Viviane said. “The coast is clear. The festival is over. You can head back now.”

  Rhetta sighed her relief. But her relief face looked just as sour as her normal face.

  “You don't like crowds?” Pierce wondered if they had this in common. He was feeling less anxious now that he was away from the crowd of people.

  “I don't like festivals,” Rhetta said. “Not since my husband's death.”

  “My condolences,” he offered.

  Rhetta shrugged. She had the same vulnerable look that Viviane had worn the day he met her on the train. Pierce had the urge to go to her and give her a hug.

  “Stay,” Rhetta barked.

  Pierce had barely lifted his heel, but he immediately placed it back down.

  “Good girl.” Rhetta held up a single finger to Bo whose attention had been directed out into the fields. Rhetta’s eyes locked on Pierce's. “It's good you're here. I've been waiting to breed Bo until I could train a replacement. But you'll due.”

  Pierce cast a glance at Viviane who tried to conceal her snicker of amusement. “I'll do what?”

  “My mother said you make a good sheepdog.” Rhetta said.

  This time the snicker escaped Viviane's nose.

  “You're very unusual,” Rhetta continued. “Dogs usually imprint on herds as pups. It's difficult to train them when they're older. But you have the three major components it takes to be a good herder.”

  “I do?”

  “Sit.”

  Pierce nearly followed Rhetta's sharp command along with Peep who spied something running in the night.

  “You're protective, attentive, and trustworthy.” Rhetta ticked each attribute off on her fingers. “Mama told me about the coyote incident. Plus you have patience and a gentle touch.”

  “How would your mother know that?”

  “She doesn't.” Rhetta turned to Viviane. “But she does. Why else would my sister have let you mate her? Viviane has never taken to ill-mannered, ignorant brutes. So, you'll do. Come!”
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br />   The dogs sprang into motion after Rhetta. Pierce very nearly did the same. When he turned to Viviane, she had her brow cocked as though she were waiting to see if he would heed her sister's command.

  “I think that whole exchange was complimentary?” he said.

  Viviane nodded through her giggling. “Believe it or not, it was. That's as warm as my sister gets.” She tugged that lip into her mouth again.

  Pierce's eyes locked on that plump lip. “It sounds like you all still need my help. Maybe I should stay?”

  “If that's what you want?”

  Somehow they were standing chest to chest. The breeze blew the strands of her hair into his face. The tendrils tickled his nose, fogging his brain, and hardening his cock. He opened his mouth and a few strands entered. His brain short-circuited.

  “What do you want, Pierce?”

  But Pierce was no longer home. His wolf was in control. His wolf reached out and grabbed for what it had wanted since the first night he saw her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Viviane wasn’t sure how they made their way back to the ranch, or into the house, or up the stairs. It was all a blur as Pierce’s hands roamed her still damp flesh, and his hungry mouth fused with her parched lips.

  Viviane had had lovers. She was a she-wolf, and she had needs. There had been a few lovers in her freshman year. There was this one guy from her Introduction to Animal Husbandry class that she’d hooked up with. But in the bedroom, he’d finished before she’d even gotten started. He was her first and last coed.

  After Mr. Speedy, Viviane looked for her entertainment off campus. There was a bartender she fooled around with for a couple of months, a businessman she had a one, then a two, then a third one-night stand with. And then, in her final year, she’d had eyes for no man but Daniel.

  All those men were faceless, disembodied, faded memories of the distant past. Pierce was her first wolf. It was the first time the sharp prick of claws dug into her skin. It was the first time she tasted the low rumble of a growl on her tongue. It was the first time her teeth met the soft fuzz on a man’s chest. It all drove Viviane wild with desire.