Page 32 of Ruthless Moon

I stop the truck in the same alcove Bast and I used days before. Exiting the cab, I strip myself bare, the warm afternoon breeze and sunlight caressing my skin. Yielding to the beckoning call within, I allow my wolf to surge to the surface. The air around me ripples, an ephemeral shimmering illusion, before my form alters and I’m standing on four legs.

My senses sharpen, the world unveiling itself in vibrant, acute clarity as I peer through the primal eyes of my wolf. It’s liberating, grounding me even as turmoil swirls within.

Each measured stride is silent. The sharp scent of pine and earth fills my senses.

Gallagher’s fortress looms in the near distance and the scents of its occupants hit me long before I can see them.Gen.An aching swell of relief and sorrow wars within me at the prospect of seeing her, smelling her, feeling her closeness. It’s an opportunity I thought I’d never have again.

Ensuring I remain downwind of the guards, I hide within the thick underbrush and listen to the low murmur of voices.

Oliver’s is unmistakable. It carries a sinister undercurrent in the otherwise serene symphony of ambient forest sounds. There’s another voice, unfamiliar and cold, that raises my hackles. But it’s Gen’s scent, a sweet, intoxicating fragrance, that has my wolf growling protectively in recognition. My heart lurches when Gen appears on the huge second-floor balcony, a bodyguard looming nearby. Her face is blank, yet the tension in her stance screams volumes.

The mate bond flares, an invisible thread pulling me toward her. My wolf howls inside my head, desperate to rush forward, to protect our mate from the harm she’s anticipating. But I force myself to stay put, to remain hidden. She’s not in danger.

Not yet.

Oliver walks into view, prowling the length of the balcony and back, phone pressed to his ear. He halts abruptly, ends the call, and pivots toward Gen, his face twisted with anger. “You don’t leave this house with Meredith Banfield again. Do you understand me?” His words echo clearly, even from where I’m concealed beneath the fortress’s imposing shadow.

The underlying threat in his venomous tone makes my wolf seethe. Rage courses through me, hot and raw, igniting a savage desire to tear Oliver into shreds. But I don’t give in to the temptation. I stay crouched and quiet and hidden.

Gen doesn’t react to her father’s tirade. In a silent act of defiance, she turns on her heel and walks away without speaking a single word. Brave woman.

Then Oliver pulls a gun from the back of his waistband.

My heart turns to stone, blood turning glacial in my veins. He fires, and for a drawn-out moment, I can’t breathe.No. No. No.But Gen is still standing, unharmed. She turns back to her father, then shifts her gaze to the guard. His hulking form crumples and falls to the ground. I force a silent exhale through my fangs, swallowing the rising snarl in my throat.

“What does that accomplish?” she shouts, not moving, her face an unruly battlefield of emotions struggling to maintain composure. “You killed him, for what?”

My heart pounds in my chest. Then the scent of her tears reaches me, stinging my nostrils and fueling my anger. My claws dig into the earth, my muscles coil, readying me to leap out of hiding.

“Leave again with Meredith Banfield or anyone else andnottell me, and I’ll kill someone you actually give a damn about. Are we clear?” The casual cruelty of Oliver’s threats and his blatant disregard for his daughter’s safety. It’s nearly too much. How can I leave her in that house? I almost break cover again.

“You know, I didn’t want to believe you really had Mr. Darcy’s wife and daughter murdered, but you did. And you don’t feel any guilt over it, do you?”

A ghost of a smirk flits across Oliver’s face that churns my stomach with revulsion.

“You know he came into the office and threatened Matthew and me. Said he’s going to kill me to make you suffer. But I’m sure Matthew already told you.” Gen’s voice rings out, laced with loathing.

Oliver tucks the pistol back into his waistband and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Henevershould have let you leave this house without checking in with me first. But somehow you waltz out along with Meredith Banfield and he just goes along with it and doesn’t report to me. So he dies because of you or because of Meredith. I don’t tolerate traitors.”

A hollow, bitter laugh erupts from Gen. “That’s what has you upset? The fact that the guard didn’ttellyou we were going. It’s not that we went dress shopping for the wedding you arranged, it’s that you weren’t kept in the loop.” She shakes her head, her loose blonde hair glinting like gold under the late afternoon sun. “Here I thought you might be upset that someone threatened my life. Not a chance of that.”

“Oh, dear daughter.” Oliver’s words slither out as he takes slow, deliberate steps toward Gen. His posture radiates menace, and his movements are nothing short of predatory. The threat lingers between them, curling around my chest and constricting. It’s a palpable tension, a live wire sparking with electricity.

My hackles go up and a growl rumbles from my chest.Don’t you touch her.I fight the urge to leap forward. I can’t. Not yet. Not unless the threat becomes reality. Too many fates ride on this alliance and marriage. But the waiting and watching—it’s a slow, torturous burn gnawing at my insides.

“Don’t worry about Darcy. No one hurts you but me,” he grinds out in a low, guttural rumble that sounds more like a lion’s growl than a man’s words. Her face turns a stark, shocking white. “You make sure I’m kept in the loop on everything from now on, no matter what Meredith tells you. Are we clear? Or do I need to beat that rule into you with something more tangible than words?”

“N-no, sir. I will. I promise.” Gen’s terrified submission is a punch to my gut. The taste of her despair is bitter in my mouth. I replay his words in my head.No one hurts you but me.I want to rip Oliver Gallagher’s throat out.

But I don’t.

I stand there and watch.

Gen retreats into her fortress prison, leaving behind the bastard she calls Father. I pull back a few steps into the shadows of the forest, my heart aching with the knowledge that I can’t comfort her. I keep my gaze locked onto Oliver as he saunters away. A seething breath finally tears loose from my lungs. My wolf, a storm of anger and instinct, prowls within me, itching to leap forward and enact vengeance and protect our mate.

Not today.I promise him. Today is not the day for retribution.

I want to find a way into the house, to whisper in her ear that she isn’t alone in this battle. But it’s a promise I can’t keep. Not yet. Possibly, not ever.

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