Blood Moon (MalexMale Paranormal Fantasy)

Chapter 9 ∞ REEVE

Coly opens the front door for me and I bound down the porch steps, nearly kicking over a small jar of pain ointment. I reach for it and pull the cork, catching a whiff of vampyre and something mixed with menthol paste. There's a small note attached written in elegant script: You'll need this after our training today. Note: it won't work on bruised egos.

What an asshole.

I smell it again and do my best to bite back a grin as I tuck it into my bag and jog with lighter steps down to the beachfront. I join my father by the shore and shield my eyes from the blinding sun blinking on the rolling sea. I gaze toward Mt. Elant—a speck of an island from this distance—barely making out the tall castle tower along the horizon.

There's a figure in the waves, too far to make out any features, but it would be hard to mistake Priestess Mavis Blue, her small boat unmoving in the waves like some mythic ocean specter. She has both hands gripping her magic harpoon and the weight of her attention aimed at Master Daire, who's busy working up on the hill of beach cottages behind us alongside the Jewel River wolves.

He doesn't seem to notice while assisting them, sitting on a stump hunched over a female sprawled on the ground in front of him, holding her leg up for closer examination. He presses along her muscle and I fixate on his hands—strong, deft fingers that have moved gently on my face after injuries, have rubbed my sore shoulders during trainings, and have played a leading role in more than one fantasy.

I can't hear what he says to the female, but the low bass of his voice in combination with his snobbish lilt carries and gets me half-hard. I had no idea I even had that kink, but the effect on my body is instantaneous.

My father's hand lands with a thud on my shoulder. "Ready to walk the perimeter?"

If ever there was a boner killer. "Yes, Alpha."

We turn toward the north, both of us appreciating the sound of friendly shouts and laughter filling this part of our land again. It's been a long time since these homes were filled and our sea coast had life around it. "Maybe we should do our pack bonfire here instead of in the Moon Field next month."

My father looks back at the wolves playing along the beach, at the remnants of a boat house and old fire pits, and narrows his eyes in thought. "It wouldn't take much to clean up a portion of it."

"It'd be nice to start using this part of our land again. It's been forever since the attack that destroyed everything. It looks sad down here." I risk broaching the touchy subject—the ravaging fire that had been a result of a bloody battle between our pack and another encroaching upon our land. My grandfather had defeated them, but wounds he'd sustained during the fight plagued him for years, ultimately leading to his death.

The coast has been untouched ever since, a ghostly beachfront that no one wanted to live by. This land was supposedly haunted, according to Rainer and his friends who liked to dare each other to camp out here alone. I'd been lucky to dodge that challenge so far, happy to avoid any sort of confrontation with spirits, magic, and Satu's mysteries. It's my life's great irony that I can't turn in any direction without coming upon another one of her blessings. Surely, she must have a sense of humor.

My father wraps a strong arm around me, leading us toward the northern trails. "Perhaps you're right."

We don't make it far before the powerful voice of the priestess cuts through me with a cold blast of sea wind. Her tone carries palpable weight, a dire warning as she calls, "Warder."

I look back to where I had seen her in the sea and she's no closer. She stands still and unaffected in the rocking waves.

My father's focus is pinned on her, his heart rate spiking.