Gray Moon Rising (#4) (Seasons of the Moon) by SM Reine

Author:SM Reine [Reine, SM]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Red Iris Books
Published: 2012-06-24T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Pack

Rylie took Toshiko and the red-haired werewolf, who asked to be called Trick, to the beach before going back to camp for more blankets and pillows. She grabbed extra cans of food while she was at it, too. If she was going to start collecting werewolves, she would need a lot more of everything.

When she returned to the beach, she found Trick with a massive black eye.

“Your friend is back,” he said, washing blood off his cheek in the lake. The bruise was already healing, but it looked like his pride was seriously damaged.

She had to laugh. “Lost that fight, too?”

“The man’s a beast! You said ‘friend,’ and I thought it would be another cute girl!”

“Abel’s not that much of a beast,” she said, feeling strangely defensive, even though she had called him worse names many times. “Just don’t challenge him for territory. He doesn’t like it very much.”

“I see that,” Trick said, splashing more water on his face.

Rylie waded through the lake to drop blankets off with Toshiko. The new wolves had taken one of the bigger caves on the edge, and the woman was already curled up on the sand and totally unconscious. Rylie set everything down without disturbing her and paddled to her cave.

Abel was waiting for her. He had the duffel bag.

“I found people,” she started to say, but then he turned around and she saw that he held the box of letters in his hand.

Her amusement at Trick’s black eye vanished in an instant. She could tell by the way that Abel approached that he had found the stolen gun.

He lifted it between them. “What is this?” he asked, eyes bright with anger.

“Those are my letters,” she said. Her voice was very small.

He flung the box to the rocks. The wood cracked at the corners and the lid flew open. All the letters spilled out, and so did the gun. It slid to a stop with its end pointing at her feet. Her cheeks burned. She bit her lower lip and focused on her toes in the sand so she wouldn’t have to see Abel’s fury.

His low growl was almost worse than being yelled at. “For the last few days I’ve been asking myself, what’s that silver smell? I mean, we don’t have anything silver. And you know, I still don’t have a hang of the werewolf senses. There are a lot of scents I don’t understand yet. So when I found that box in the car and I smelled the silver…”

Her fists trembled at her sides, but she didn’t look up. “You shouldn’t have opened that. It’s my private box.”

Abel grabbed the pistol and shoved it in her face. She took a reflexive step back. “And this is my gun! What the hell are you doing with my gun, Rylie?”

The wolf inside of her responded to his heat in kind. It fed off the humiliation and grew to occupy every empty space in her skull. She snapped.

“It’s for me!” she yelled.

His hand wavered. “You

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