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  Wolf Moon © 2018 by J.E. Taylor

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Wolf Moon | By | J.E. Taylor

  Wolf Moon

  Wolf Moon Preface

  Wolf Moon Chapter 1

  Wolf Moon Chapter 2

  Wolf Moon Chapter 3

  Wolf Moon Chapter 4

  Wolf Moon Chapter 5

  Wolf Moon Chapter 6

  Wolf Moon Chapter 7

  Wolf Moon Chapter 8

  Wolf Moon Chapter 9

  Wolf Moon Chapter 10

  Wolf Moon Chapter 11

  Wolf Moon Chapter 12

  Wolf Moon Chapter 13

  About J.E. Taylor

  Wolf Moon

  By

  J.E. Taylor

  Wolf Moon

  Alessandra and Hunter have a price on their heads. Can they escape their fate, or will the sins of the past lead them to their death?

  In the eyes of the werewolf council, Alessandra Tate and Hunter Blaez committed the ultimate sin. Humans were killed at the hands of a werewolf, and the price for taking a human life is death.

  After being on the run for three months, Alessandra’s nightmares are still plagued with the acts of that evening. Never again will she trust a man to get close enough to betray her, even Hunter Blaez, her beta wolf and protector.

  Hunter has other ideas. He has been in love with Alessandra for years, but all she ever saw was her second in command. Even rescuing her from certain death and following her into damnation wasn’t enough for her to see him as a man.

  When the council catches Hunter, Alessandra must choose between surviving without him, or risking her life to save the only man she truly loves.

  Wolf Moon Preface

  “Hey Ally, want to come up and party?”

  His casual invitation interrupted her stride. Alessandra looked up from the sidewalk, hugging her books. Frat house boys ogled her from the balcony. At least twice a day since the semester started, she heard the catcall, but so had every other sorority girl on the block who walked by the Alpha Beta Pi house.

  Jeremy leaned against the railing with a beer in his hand, smiling down at her, his bright green eyes reminding her of a wild mountain lion and she suppressed a shiver. He raised his beer and with a slight tilt of his head said, “Come on, Ally. We won’t bite.”

  His smooth voice caressed her ears and she paused, inhaling deeply and memorizing his musky scent.

  Yeah, but I might.

  “Why should I?” Alessandra turned fully toward the house, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder and placing her hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

  He drained his beer and put his index finger up before he disappeared. Stepping out the front door moments later, he trotted down the sidewalk, stopping a few feet in front of her. “Come party with me.” His gaze drifted over her in that hungry come-hither expression, matching the seductive tone in his voice.

  She batted her eyelashes and tilted her head to the right, studying his cocky sureness. She knew his reputation. Slam, bam, thank you ma’am, the equivalent of a male whore and now his sights were set on her. “Again, why should I?” Alessandra asked, toying with him.

  “Because I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you.” Jeremy leaned in as he spoke, his breath reeking of Corona. “And I can tell you feel the same.” A knowing smile spread over his lips.

  Alessandra took a deep breath and let out a husky laugh. “Yeah, right.” Even though Jeremy was one of the better-looking men on campus, arrogant and sexy as hell, she wasn’t going to let him take advantage of her. Not with the risks. Not even if her dreams were filled with visions of lapping every inch of his six-foot sculpted frame.

  “I have class,” she answered and took a step toward campus.

  His hand clamped down on her arm, stopping her. “At least come to the party tonight. It’s homecoming.”

  Alessandra sighed and bit her lip, considering his invitation. All her sorority sisters were going, along with everyone who was anyone on campus. She didn’t think the smile on his face could get any bigger, but when she agreed, it widened. She looked at the hand clasped around her upper arm and he let go, taking a quick step back as she raised her gaze to his.

  “It starts at eight.” The wind kicked up, wrapping a cool breeze that promised a bitter winter, and he dug his hands into his pockets. “See you then.” He turned and disappeared into the frat house.

  ALL THROUGH CLASS, Alessandra fidgeted in her seat. Hunter texted at least a dozen times about a camping trip tonight and she ignored each silent buzz of her phone.

  Why did he always show up at the wrong time with the rest of his ragged pack? Her sweet sixteen, her first date, her prom—all screwed up for the sake of a “family” trip. Family? Ha! Not so much. More like unwanted chaperones. God, couldn’t they let her have a normal life?

  Her phone buzzed again and she tore her gaze from the professor to the demanding words blinking on her phone. With a couple of quick keystrokes, she sent her defiant answer. She wasn’t going this time. She’d meet up with them tomorrow. They could go one night without her leading the party.

  She turned the phone off and focused back on the front of the classroom.

  EVEN THE SIDEWALK VIBRATED from the hip-hop beat as she approached the front door of Alpha Beta Pi. She traded a glance with her sorority sisters and they squeezed through the crowded house into the rear courtyard. Bodies crammed the open space, moving like a sea of Mexican jumping beans.

  She scanned the crowd and couldn’t see Jeremy. A quick sniff brought several mingled scents, mostly booze and sweat, but another sweet scent laced the air: an undercurrent of marijuana—all the normal byproducts of a college frat party. Moments later, that musky scent reached her, and she turned to see Jeremy approaching.

  “Hey, Ally, want a beer?” He offered her one of the two opened Coronas in his hands.

  “No thanks. I really shouldn’t drink.”

  His eyebrows creased, and he bit his lip. “Why not? Are you an alcoholic or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  The crease smoothed out, replaced by arches that rivaled McDonald’s and she chuckled at the incredulous look gracing his handsome, chiseled face.

  “I’m actually allergic to alcohol.”

  The arches remained. “Really?” he grunted and handed one of the bottles to a wayward fraternity brother. “What, do you swell up like a balloon?”

  This time she did laugh. “No, no spontaneous swelling.” She didn’t care to elaborate further.

  “Want some punch instead?”

  “Sure,” she answered, licking her lips.

  His gaze traveled between her mouth and her eyes and he nodded, disappearing into the crowd. A few minutes later, he slipped next to her, handing her the plastic cup full of red fruit punch. A lovely orange
ring decorated the edge along with a glistening cherry.

  She slid the cherry between her lips, severing it from the vine in such a way that he sucked in his breath, his chest rising and falling with the desire pumping through his blood, emitting a scent she adored, the tang of feral wanting.

  Lifting the glass to her lips, she sipped the drink. Her thirst flared and she downed the delectable liquid. “This is really good. What’s in it?”

  “Fruit punch, pineapple juice, Sprite, along with the fruit, of course,” he answered. “Do you want me to get you some more?”

  “Sure.”

  Before she knew it, he was back with a drink in each fist, both for her.

  “This way I don’t have to run off again for at least another five minutes.” He flashed his dazzling white teeth in her direction.

  Halfway through the third glass, the room tilted, and she blinked, staring at the wavering liquid in her glass before bringing her gaze back to Jeremy’s expectant smile.

  “Why don’t you finish that, and I’ll take you outside? It’s getting warm in here,” he said, pointing to the glass, and she nodded, downing the rest and setting the glass on the nearest table.

  Instead of heading out front as she expected, he pulled her up the stairs, corralling her out onto the balcony, and cornered her against the siding, pressing his body to hers, his lips finding the curve of her neck and his hands wandering over her silky shirt.

  “Jeremy,” she whispered, blinking away the slow spin that gripped her.

  “What?” He brought his mouth away from her skin and raised a questioning eyebrow. His green eyes shimmered in the moonlight.

  “What was in that drink?” Her tongue felt fuzzy in her mouth and she swallowed, scraping it along the dry roof of her mouth. She squelched the craving for another drink, especially in light of her dulled senses. She could hardly smell his musky scent or his beer-laced breath, even though he was inches away, and a constant buzz filled her ears, distorting all sound.

  His grin widened, and his eyes twinkled. “It’s a grain punch.”

  A measure of fear spun up her spine chilling her warm skin. Her father’s words echoed in her ear. “Drinking will eliminate your ability to recognize trouble and stunt any opportunity you might have of escaping danger.” His staunch parental glare punctuated the statement and she never once questioned the hereditary reaction to alcohol. After all, he had been right about everything else.

  “Don’t look so upset, angel. Enjoy the buzz.” His lips found hers, drowning all her protests, drowning all logic, drowning all thoughts of her father’s warning.

  His kisses, along with the stroke of his hands and his whispered promises of forever, were as intoxicating as the drink and she allowed him to lead her into his bedroom. The door latched behind them and he navigated her toward the bed. Helping her undress, his hands never stopped their exploration, fanning the flames in the pit of her stomach and she matched his fervor, nipping at his neck and chest and stomach. He stopped her when she reached for his belt.

  “I know what you are.” His sinuous tone filled her ear just before his tongue swiped it, sending chills through her lithe form and before she knew it, he had her wrists bound behind her back and a blindfold covering her eyes.

  “I know what you are.” This time his voice held contempt and the back of his hand slammed into her cheekbone, sending her to the floor with flares of pain resonating through her jaw.

  With her senses dulled with shock and alcohol, he yanked her to her feet and covered her with a rough blanket that reminded her of the old potato sacks they used to use for the sack races at camp rough and scratchy, to the point it itched. She struggled in the bonds.

  She found her voice as the noise dissipated and she stumbled on the curb. “Jeremy, what the hell are you doing?”

  The slide of a door dispelled her question and he threw her into what felt like a cramped space. The clang of the door closing behind her confirmed her suspicions. She was inside the infamous Alpha Beta Pi van.

  According to campus rumor, the fraternity brothers took turns filming their sexual encounters in this van, but she didn’t think that’s what he had in mind. No, she thought his motivations were a little darker than a sexual romp.

  The van lurched forward, and hands tore the rough blanket from over her head. Lights bled from under the blindfold. “Jeremy?” She hated the twinge of fear in her voice.

  The blindfold ripped from her face and she squinted under the intense lights. Blinking until her eyes adjusted, she made out his form just out of camera shot and he wasn’t the one driving the van.

  “What do we do with her?” someone behind Jeremy asked. She thought she recognized the voice but before her brain could form a coherent thought, a needle jabbed into her leg.

  Jeremy came out of the shadows and depressed the plunger, sending burning liquid up her thigh. Pain spread from the injection site, traveling through her system at mach speed. Her heart, already taxed by fear, pumped the poison through her bloodstream, creating a blazing agony in every cell of her being, and she screamed. The wail echoed through the small metal chamber and her muscles clenched into tight balls of anguish.

  “Belladonna,” he said, holding up the empty syringe. “That ought to keep her under control until the cougars find her,” he said to the shadows over his shoulder.

  Belladonna? Did he say Belladonna? Terror washed through her faster than the pain and her chest hitched breath after painful breath. Belladonna was one of the deadliest substances to her kind. This agony crippling her would only increase and if he spared her a fatal dose, at the very least, she wouldn’t be able to function for the next few hours, never mind defend herself against this maniac.

  “Why?” she hissed, managing to straighten into a sitting position.

  Sliding into the light, he crawled toward her like a predator. “Because I can’t stand freaks of nature like you,” he said, punctuating his statement with another backhand that sent her sprawling onto her side.

  “Bastard.”

  His laugh filled the van and he straddled her, the sound of multiple zippers barely audible above her ragged breath.

  CLOSE TO TWO HOURS of rough sexual contact passed before the van pulled to a stop, gravel crunching under the wheels. Covered with their sweat, saliva, and semen, she nearly collapsed when they hauled her out of the van. Before she had a chance to recover and study her surroundings, the blindfold covered her eyes.

  The late October wind lifted strands of her long black hair, whipping it around and smacking her face with each gust. Her once creamy skin turned into a relief map of gooseflesh among the bruises. Her feet protested with every sharp stone that pierced her sole. Each scratch of a branch tore at her skin, milking the pain and snapping her into instant sobriety.

  Jeremy had a grip as strong as a vise on her upper arm, his fingers digging cruelly into her flesh. He dragged her along, impatiently correcting each of her stumbles with a yank.

  Hot tears stung her eyes and coated the back of her throat; she stifled the sob, locking it in her chest. Her muscles still hadn’t recovered from the Belladonna or the brutal rape she endured but she refused to collapse. Not here, not in the mountains. Not with the wild cats roaming these woods, just looking for the chance to rip someone like her to pieces.

  The sudden lack of sticks digging against her along with the soft moss-like grass underfoot signaled a break in the forest. Dull light bled under her blindfold, the full harvest moon illuminating the clearing. They walked another hundred paces from the wood line before they stopped.

  Her bound wrists yanked toward the ground, almost knocking her to her knees and then the slack returned and her hands again rested at the small of her back.

  Shivering in the night wind, she stuttered, “W-w-what are y-you d-d-oing?” Her teeth chattered through every word.

  “Setting the bait,” Jeremy whispered close to her ear. His breath caressed her cheek and then a cool substance spread from the crown of her hea
d, dripping through her hair, covering her bare skin, tickling as it traced paths down her legs. The air filled with a sweet tang, reminding her of a fine cut of venison cooking on the grill and she licked her lips despite the bone chilling cold settling into her already exhausted limbs.

  It took a second to recognize the substance and between the taste on her lips and the scent drowning all other scents, primal fear jump-started her adrenaline. “What are you doing?” The shiver was less pronounced as panic overtook her senses.

  Another prick pierced her shoulder and the pain flared again. “If the mountain lions don’t kill you first, the wolves will. They always attack my poisoned offerings and when they do, the Belladonna in your system will kill them just as surely as it’ll kill you.”

  The shuffle of feet followed his harsh statement, their pattern speeding up and drawing farther away.

  “You son of a bitch!” she called after them, taking a step toward the diminishing noise. Her bound arms stopped her, anchored to something in the clearing. She struggled to break the binds. She struggled against the burning poison traveling through her bloodstream and she struggled against the need to curl up into a tight ball of agony.

  Barely able to remain standing, she dropped to her knees. “I will kill you!” Alessandra cried once more and then listened until the distinct footfalls on the forest floor vanished, along with their laughter. A car ignition sparked, followed by the fading sound of the engine. A sob welled up from her bowels, the long forlorn moan echoing in the small clearing, cascading over the trees into the heart of the forest, a calling to the carnivores searching for sustenance.

  Adrenaline faded, and her teeth chattered, the cold soaking through her skin again and leaving her numb. Rolling her shoulder, she attempted to dislodge the blindfold, failing. After a few tries, an exasperated growl escaped between the constant click of her teeth.

  An owl let out a screeching hoot and her heart lurched in her chest, her whole body following suit. The cry of a wild cat in the distance set her heart into a frantic beat, one that left her dizzy and warm despite the cold.