Marked by the Moon (Nightcreature 9)

The howl went on and on and on, then it stopped.

Alex wasn’t certain which was worse—the howl itself or the silence that followed.

Julian stared into the distance, face as still as the night. His eyes glittered; he appeared carved from stone.

“They took care of it,” she said. “So you wouldn’t have to.”

Julian’s wolves understood what killing his brother would do to him. But they couldn’t allow Cade to live. Not here. Not anywhere. Cade would never stop killing. He liked it too much.

Julian didn’t answer. He didn’t even move.

“A little help,” she called.

She was half afraid he’d continue to stand there, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She’d take her punishment; she wouldn’t run. But she’d prefer to take it when she wasn’t trussed to a monster truck half naked.

Julian leaned over and picked up the knife Cade had dropped when he changed. Then he crossed the short distance between them. Alex started to feel cold and not from the ice. Perhaps her judge was here and her punishment—

Julian lifted the knife, but all he did was cut the rope that bound her to the tailgate.

Alex crumpled to the snow. He could have reached out and kept her from falling. Instead he just turned away.

She climbed to her feet, adjusted the robe, thought about what she could say. “I got nothin’,” she admitted.

She was a spy. She’d planned to send all of them to their deaths. That she didn’t plan to anymore didn’t change that she’d plotted mass murder in the first place.

But Julian had been right. His wolves were more like people than most people. Barlowsville was home.

And so was he.

She couldn’t leave. They were bonded. Mated. Stuck.

Strangely that knowledge didn’t make her feel trapped. It made her feel…loved.

When had she fallen in love with him? She really couldn’t say. Was what she felt merely a by-product of their bond? Did it matter when the bond was real and true and forever? They were part of each other in a way she could never be part of anyone else.

She sensed the werewolves returning, the sensation of them getting closer and closer a tangible pulse deep within. They emerged from the gloom and took up the same positions as before—a semicircle facing Alex and Julian. Her time had come.

She didn’t bother to defend herself. She had no defense. She could say she was sorry now, but really…why on earth would they believe her?

Julian took a breath, then let it out on a long, exhausted sigh. He turned and strode toward her, the set of his shoulders determined, even as his face remained oh, so still.

“This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you,” he murmured.

He was right. Her pain would only last until the flames died. Considering their mate bond, his could go on and on.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I understand.”

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but that would only make things worse.

He was two feet away from her when the sleek black wolf leaped between them.

“Ella,” Alex said. “Let him go.”

Ella snarled, and the hair on the back of her neck lifted.

“Really,” Alex continued. “He’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

A silver wolf with Rose’s eyes joined the black one; another with hair like Joe’s was right behind. Wolves drifted in from both sides, making a line of multicolored beasts between Alex and Julian.