Marked by the Moon (Nightcreature 9)

They were mates for life, and thanks to him that life would be long. The least he could do was let her live without him. But he missed his home. It was the only one he’d ever had.

So he hung around the outskirts of civilization, and he caught a distant glimpse of Alex now and again, a flicker of her scent—ice, trees, and the faint drift of citrus—sometimes the sound of her voice, and that was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

There came a night when he couldn’t stand the separation any longer. He told himself he’d only watch her as she lay sleeping; then he’d leave. She’d never even know he was there.

Fool.

She’d been a Jäger-Sucher. There wasn’t a werewolf in the world she wouldn’t know was there.

She didn’t run with the others most nights. She stayed alone at Ella’s, and the lights went out very early. Not long after they did, he went in.

She wasn’t in her bed; she wasn’t in her room. He found her standing at the front window, staring at the moon.

“I wondered how long you’d stay away.”

He tried to work up enough anger to turn invisible. He should have done it before, but he discovered that being near her made him so damn happy, he had no anger left.

“I’ll go soon,” she said.

“What? Where?”

She continued to stare at the sheen of the half-moon that coated the village in liquid silver ice.

“This is your place not mine.” She lifted a hand, but she didn’t turn around. “Don’t worry. If you can hold on for a few days, I’m sure Edward—make that Elise—will concoct something to make this…connection go away.”

“You won’t go near him,” Julian said, and the house shook just a little. “Not ever again.”

“I won’t tell him where you are. I know you didn’t believe me, but now—” She took a breath, and it shook. “I’d never let him hurt—” Her voice broke.

Was she crying? No. Alexandra Trevalyn would never cry.

So why could he smell her tears?

“I’ll stay here until it comes. I’ll let you keep it. You know that I’d never bring the Jäger-Suchers down on—”

What was she talking about?

She turned, and it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, his lungs, the universe.

“Our child,” she finished, placing her palm on the full swell of her belly.

Julian did the only thing a man could do at a revelation like that.

He fainted.

Julian went down so fast and so hard, Alex would have thought he’d been shot if the night hadn’t remained completely silent.

She went onto her knees. He was already coming around.

“Impossible,” he said as he opened his eyes.

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. The child, no doubt irritated at being awoken by the thunderous thumping of Alex’s heart, took the opportunity to give her its usual vicious kick.

Julian gasped and lifted his gaze to hers. He didn’t appear capable of further speech.

“That’s kind of how I felt when I heard.”