The Hunter's Moon (The Secret Warrior Series) by Beth Trissel Page A

flashed in her. “How? I don’t even like wolves.”
    The ghost of a smile curved his lips. “You are seated by one now.”
    “So are you.”
    “I am not the one who’s terrified. And you are, aren’t you? To your core.”
    “I guess that’s pretty obvious, or should I wear a terror alert sticker?”
    “Not necessary. I understand why you feel as you do. But fear will rule you. Dominate all. And come between us, if you allow it to.”
    The truth of his warning sank in, and she floundered for footing. The strange world she’d entered was as unstable as shifting sand.
    “I’m drowning in all this uncertainty.”
    He smoothed her cheek. “I see that. You need something greater than fear to hold onto when the heat takes you.”
    “Like what? A magic rock, or a mantra to chant? Likely Miriam could provide both.” Morgan envisioned herself taking part in some mystical ritual of the wise woman’s making.
    “No. She will give you herbs.”
    “How about a pinch of fairy dust?”
    “If you like. Grandma Miriam has a bottle of it stored in the pantry.”
    Morgan half-way believed him.
    Humor touched his eyes. “This is from me, to keep in your thoughts.”
    Bending his head, he softly covered her lips with his in the longed for kiss. In that moment, it was only her and Jackson at the top of the tree in the gathering dusk, the lightest breeze stirring the leaves. Warmth enveloped her in a wondrous wave, and all the emotions that had no words found their voice as she returned the heated pressure on her mouth.
    She circled her arms around his neck, and he caught her to him, deepening his kiss. His scent heightened her attraction. A charge sizzled between them, a little like the current she’d felt when Okema laid his hand on her head, but from a far different and more potent source. The bond Jackson spoke of strengthened, giving her something to hold onto, like an invisible cord, a lifeline tossed to one about to go under.
    If they’d met after her first turn, it would be too late. Now, hope surged and music thrummed in her soul. Perhaps there was a way. His tenderness pulsed with the promise of more to come if she overcame what she must and didn’t rage against him. Oh, how she wanted to be a part of the wonderful if ! Somehow, she vowed to rise above the curse.
    After the rapturous taste of the wealth they might share together, he drew back. “Now, see the wolf. And do not fear.”
    Would he turn right in front of her? This was so against the Wapicoli rules. Heart racing, she braced herself.
    His gaze grew golden and his features blurred. She couldn’t clearly distinguish them even if the light were stronger. The partial change she’d expected from man to beast didn’t transpire before her. No skin mixed with fur. No veins bulged. His spine didn’t arch in a grotesque curve, or his body contort in hideous distortions. Agonizing screams didn’t tear from his gaping mouth. She glimpsed no fangs, or claws.
    In moments, where Jackson had been, the large brown and gray wolf she’d seen in the woods on her first day sat beside her. It was as if Jackson had stepped aside and the creature had taken his place. The unusual hue of his eyes remained, his steady regard gazing back at her from their glowing depths. He didn’t snarl, or in any way threaten attack. Jackson remained in control. He and his wolf were in harmony.
    Her admiration for him bounded to greater heights. Could she ever hope for this kind of mastery over the ice queen? A daunting thought, but maybe—
    A sharp cry overhead disrupted her absorption in Jackson. She jerked her focus from him to the red eyes flashing in the twilight. Enormous wings flapped like sails whipping in the wind.
    “Holy crap! The demon bird!” They’d been caught off-guard, and it was all her fault.
    As fast as Jackson could change, he couldn’t possibly regain his human form fast enough to take the raptor down. Lethal talons outstretched, wicked beak parted in a piercing