Page 65 of Wolf Hunted (Rejected Moons 1)

“Nothing.” It’s not like I can tell him the truth. “I was just thinking what a weird way this is for a harem to come together.”

“True,” Milo says. “Though I never really thought I would be part of a harem at all.”

“I did,” I say. “But I didn’t think that I’dlikeit.” The only way to be with a woman, as part of a pack, is either to be bonded to her as her alpha mate—in other words, ordered by your alpha to be together—or to be one of her secondary lovers, taking her to bed but always having to give her up when she’s trying to conceive.”

Being a part of a harem under those conditions always seemed like a no-win situation. But what seems to be developing between me, Emlyn, and Milo…well, it’s weird and unpredictable, and I’m in this thing with two Moon Casters, and that’s kind of fucked up. But I kind of like it.

“I guess if anyone in the world had the power to tame two Moon Casters, it makes sense that it would be me,” I say aloud.

Milo laughs. “You haven’t tamed anybody, you big gorilla,” he says. “But keep on telling yourself that if it makes you feel better about what’s going on here.”

I roll my eyes, reach over, and snatch away a piece of his rabbit. He lets me, and suddenly the energy between us has shifted. We’re brothers somehow, and it’s the two of us against the world.

Maybe it’s magic.

Maybe it’s Emlyn.

But something has definitely come together between the three of us, and Milo’s right—it’s something worth keeping.

Chapter 42

MILO

Emlynshakesmeawake.“Come on,” she says. “We’re about to get moving.”

“Where are we going?” I sit up blearily. Nate and I were up way too late talking last night. We should have been more sensible about leaving one person to stand watch while the other slept. Now we’re both going to be tired all day long.

Emlyn shrugs. “Don’t know,” she says. “All I know is that we can’t stay in one place for too long. My pack is still hunting for me.”

“And they’ll kill you if they catch you?”

“They definitely will.”

I nod and get to my feet. “Where’s Nate?”

“He went down to the river to get some water,” she says.

“Do you think he would care if I borrow a heavier shirt?” I ask, plucking at the thin t-shirt he gave me last night. “It’s a little chilly this morning.”

“Oh, no, he won’t care,” she assures me. “All his stuff is in that backpack.”

I go over to the backpack and start to rummage through it. I find a pullover hoodie pretty quickly, but as I’m pulling it out of the bag, a crumpled up piece of paper falls on the ground.

I pick it up, thinking I’ll just put it back in the bag, but the image drawn on it catches my eye, and before I can stop myself, I’m unfolding it and examining the drawing.

It’s Emlyn.

My breath catches in my throat.

My first thought is that Nate is an amazing artist. This is a wonderful likeness. But—no. Something’s wrong.

And now my eyes go to the words written underneath the picture, and I’m skimming what the flyer has to say, and I’m horrified.

Bounty.

That’s the word that jumps out at me.

No. I can’t believe this. I don’t want to believe this.

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