A Cursed Moon
Page 22

Celia cupped my shoulder gently with her small hand and smiled. “He’s okay, Bren. You did it.” She glanced at the door when the soft pads of urgent feet echoed down the hall. “Speaking of which . . .”
A giant wolf stumbled in his haste to round the corner and launched himself upward. He landed in a belly flop between us before scrambling to the foot of the bed. Jesus, never had I seen such an ungainly lupine.
The wolf spread out his long scrawny body. An excited glimmer lightened his intelligent amber eyes while his long tongue draped out of his mouth in true goofball glory. “Dan?” He wagged his tail and barked out a happy yip. “You’re . . . f**king blue.”
Celia laughed again and leaned forward to stroke the top of his narrow head. “He’s a blue merle, extremely rare for a werewolf. According to the pack Elders it’s symbolic of rare and powerful magic.” A note of concern shadowed her husky voice. “He’s supposed to develop a special ability. One that will impact the entire were race.” She cleared her throat and forced a hopeful smile. “He keeps admiring himself in the mirror and hasn’t wanted to change back to human.” Her smile widened, becoming more genuine. “I must say, he is awfully cute.”
Dan’s tail thumped louder against the mattress. He jerked up suddenly and dive-bombed Celia with his ridiculously dorky tongue. Celia wrinkled her nose and batted his long snout. “Ew, Danny. Cut it out.”
Dan was alive, well, and a goddamn blue werewolf. Maybe knowing his freak new were mo-jo could knock our entire species on its ass should’ve scared me, but it didn’t—at least not then. I was stoked we’d survived and decided it was time my boy had some fun.
I locked Celia in a full nelson and hooked my legs around hers. “Get her, Dan! Get her! Come on, fella!”
Dan was on Celia like duct tape, slathering her face with his werewolf love. Celia squirmed and squealed. “Don’t. . . . Stop. . . . Knock it off. . . . Ew!”
“I believe she asked you to stop.”
We froze at the sound of Aric’s deep voice. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his thick brows angling into a frown. Unlike Dan, the stealthy bastard hadn’t made a sound.
I released Celia. She hurried to pull down her skirt. Oops. The hem had bunched up during the struggle and—oh shit—hiked all the way past her lacey pink panties.
Dan’s tail curled between his legs, his submissive nature buckling in Aric’s strong presence. “Dan,” I warned, my jaw tightening. “If you piss on my bed, I’m going to beat your ass with a newspaper.”
Aric’s brows softened when he locked eyes with Celia, his eyes sparking with heat and tenderness completely unfamiliar to me. Celia’s lips parted and her irises sizzled, giving him back what she’d sensed in his stare. She wiped her face on her sleeve, her cheeks warming to a soft blush. “Hi, Aric,” she murmured.
“Hello, Celia.”
They stared at each other, forgetting the rest of us. No one made a sound. And except for Dan’s ears drooping, no one made a move, either. I let Celia and Aric have their moment, but hell, it was a long friggin’ moment. Just when I was about to yell at them to get their own damn room, Celia dropped her gaze and slipped to the edge of bed.
She tugged on her slouchy suede boots. “I should go.”
Aric’s expression hardened, the angles of his face tightening with frustration and annoyance. Now, that’s a look I knew oh so well.
He huffed. “I guess you wouldn’t want to keep Misha waiting.”
Oh shit.
“And I’ll just bet your fiancée can’t wait to have you back,” she snapped.
I tucked my hands behind my head. “Actually, Ceel, I doubt that angry bitch is at the edge of her seat waiting for Aric.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “You see, I kinda let her read his note.”
Celia’s eyes widened and she cleared her throat, trying to squelch her expanding grin. It didn’t work. Aric caught it and lowered his head. She shoved her cell phone in her purse and walked toward the door, slowing as she neared and pausing beside him.
Aric maintained his position against the frame, casually leaning back with his arms folded over his chest. His nose flared slightly, capturing her scent. Like a shy teen, Celia played with the strap of her purse as she spoke to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you told me not to go after Dan. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, or insult you. I just wanted to help our friend.”
Aric hooked a long strand of her hair with his finger and tucked it behind her ear then slowly trailed his finger across her jaw line, using it to lift her chin. “It’s not that I didn’t think you could help. I know you’re tough. But you were facing an enemy that could have robbed you of your soul.” He released her then but kept his eyes trained on her. “It would destroy me if anything ever happened to you.”
For a moment, I was sure Celia was going to say something back—maybe about his declaration of their matehood in the letter. But she instead she averted her gaze and walked away . . . even though he continued to watch her closely.
“Quit staring at her ass,” I yelled when his eyes trailed her out of the room.
“Don’t be an ass**le, Bren,” she hissed from the end of the hall.
“He’s the one eyeing your butt cheeks like they can fold paper,” I shot back defensively.
The door slammed, cutting off Celia’s growl. Aric rubbed his face, trying to beat back the heat crawling up his neck. “Thanks, Bren.”
I scratched Dan’s ears, my grin widening. “No problem, boss. So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I came to speak with you about what happened the other night. You should have howled a call the moment those spirits showed up.”
“Why? Because Celia was with me?”
Aric paused. “In part, but also because you were in danger, and so were the humans we’re sworn to protect.”
“Nah. You would’ve been too distracted trying to get Celia alone so you could make out with her.” Aric stared at me, probably torn between snapping my neck and laughing. Either way, the prick didn’t deny it.
He cleared his throat, struggling it seemed to wrangle in his patience. Hmm. Wonder why?
“Your pack is not your enemy, Bren. You have to stop perceiving us as such.”