Page 64 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

Kerrigan reached across me to squeeze Nissa’s shoulder, and while I flinched on her behalf, my beta took it in stride. “And I’m sorry some asshole doctor gave you a reason to.”

“Does this mean you’ll let Dr. Ryan do an ultrasound?” Tyrese asked, bouncing on his heels like a little kid before Christmas. “Can we?”

Nissa placed a hand on her stomach. “Okay, baby. I’ll take that as a yes.” Her eyes brimmed with tenderness and adoration, and then she snagged my hand and guided my palm to one side of her belly.

Bam, bam.My niece or nephew kicked against the walls of his current home.

I was just about to suggest a toast when Sasquatch burst into the room.

“Sire Sasquatch, welcome-eth to the party,” Kerrigan said. When he didn’t smile or rush to join us, she pointed. “See. Not a jokester. I’m funny, and I never get so much as a glimmer of a reaction.” She nudged my arm. “Conall, do that glowworm thing with your eyes and demand he appreciate how hilarious I am.”

Sasquatch strode forward, all business, and bowed his head. “Sir, please tell your mate that while it’s difficult not to be amused by her constant efforts to get me to crack a smile, I haven’t found any of her jokes particularly funny.”

Kerrigan’s jaw dropped, and hers wasn’t the only one. Gaping expressions went through the rest of us in a wave.

The giant ginger werewolf straightened and winked. “Only kidding, Duchess. You almost got me with some of the titles you’ve assigned me.”

At Kerrigan’s triumphant squeak, happiness pinged through me.

Losing my family and pack just about wrecked me, and I’d accepted the role of an orphan who fought to ensure others wouldn’t have to experience the same tragedy.

Blood didn’t necessarily make a family, though. Protecting one another, taking care of one another, overlooking flaws, and forming an unbreakable bond forged with mutual affection and love did. For a guy who’d never been the mushy type, I was damn close to making a sappy speech proclaiming how much I appreciated my second family.

“Unfortunately,” Sasquatch said, his usual solemnity returning, “I must decline the party invitation and steal away a couple of the guests, as we have a situation.”

My muscles tensed, my mood shifting from celebratory to preparing for battle.

“A member from the Crescent Pack just showed up at the compound. He claims a coven of witches attacked their community last night. He managed to flee, although he’s beat up from the journey and isn’t healing. Sabine’s doing what she can, but I’m sure she could use help.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” Kerrigan said, starting for the podium stairs.

I caught hold of her wrist, halting her progress one step into her descent. “Not so fast.” The timing seemed suspicious. Or maybe I’d grown even more paranoid this past month. Either way, I wasn’t letting Kerrigan out of my sight until I’d had a chance to talk to the guy. “I’ll walk you. I have some questions for our unannounced guest. If he wants us to treat his wounds, he’s going to have to convince me he’s answering them truthfully.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Our footsteps echoedthrough a hallway thick with tension and worried expressions. When it came to threats and pertinent information, I’d never believed in keeping my people in the dark. The news that the Crescent Pack had been attacked had obviously spread, and I could see their questions plain as day.

How long did we have until the coven reached our homes?

Were we going to be ready to fight them in time?

As soon as Kerrigan entered the infirmary, she shed my leather jacket and hung it on a hook in the corner. The evidence of her not wearing a bra showed through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Our visitor stared a second too long—which was a second, for the record—and I growled, drawing his attention to me.

Damn filthy animal finally yanked away his gaze—not that I could really talk, since it took Kerrigan buttoning her white lab coat for me to regain my focus.

“Dr. Ryan, this is Sam Wilson from the Crescent Pack,” Sabine said. “He has a gash in his upper arm and shoulder, deep enough I thought you’d better take a look to see if any tendonshave been severed.” Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of genuine humility on the features of the woman who’d spoken out against Kerrigan not thirty minutes ago? “I didn’t want him to lose the use of his arm because I stitched him up before you could assess the full extent of the damage.”

Kerrigan nodded in Sabine’s direction as she gathered supplies. “Thank you, Sabine. That was a good call.”

As my mate went to work, Sam talked about the strange smoke, people trapped in sigil circles, and injuries that didn’t heal. Like us, they suspected witches, but no one had been able to get eyes on them. Until their community was attacked with silver arrows last night. “I was coming back from a hunt when I heard the screams from the ambush,” Sam said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat twice before he could continue. “Most of our members are presumed to be seriously injured. Or worse.”

Dread tightened my lungs, the story too familiar and one I didn’t want to relive right now.

“I’m going to have to suture the two ends of the tendon together,” Kerrigan said, wielding a needle. “I’ve numbed the cut the best I can, but this is still going to hurt a bit.”

Sam gritted his teeth against the pain and then picked up his tale from where he’d left off. “Like I said, I was on my way back and heard the screams. Then Frank called...”

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