Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series Read Online Free Page B

hiding secrets. The night world here was one of power, where all of the bayou came out to play. To hunt.
    Rafer tore his gaze away from the blue moon. The whole “admire nature” thing was foreign to him, but the unexpectedly vivid blue shadows playing out over the surface of the full moon demanded his attention. His brother stood next to him, looking up at the blue moon, stroking his thumb over the edge of his hunting knife. Maybe he felt that sensual pull, too. Dag didn’t look any different. He sported his usual military-style cargo pants, a worn T-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and a pair of shit-kicker boots. Standard dating wear for the Pack.
    Hell, Rafer didn’t look any different himself. He ran a hand over his short hair. Wondered what the woman they hunted tonight would think.  There was a reason he almost never left the bayou. He and his brothers were big, mean, dark-haired brutes. On the outside, there was nothing pretty about them. Or gentle. He didn’t know what was on the inside, man or animal or some combination of the two. That blue moonlight had all his senses coming alive, however, and he wanted desperately to know if she was the bride the moon had picked out. Lark Andrews.
    Moon or no moon, he’d want to go back to her farm. He’d want to taste her. Eat her up and make her holler from the pleasure.
    “You think we'll find her tonight?” Rafer voiced the question they all were thinking. Part of his concern was purely selfish. He wanted Lark Andrews, but even if she turned out not to be the woman chosen by the moon tonight, he needed to find this blue-moon bride because he knew—they all knew—Dag was running out of time. This was the first time Dag had shifted back from his wolf form in weeks. Soon, he wouldn’t shift at all.
    Unless Dag found his mate.
    Rafer was a bastard to even dream of the bride choosing him.
    “Yeah.” Male satisfaction filled Dag’s voice, which was hoarse from disuse. “That’s how the blue moon works, right? At least one of us finds his mate tonight. Maybe more. Maybe she’s the kind who likes to share.”
    The blue-moon brides always had strong connections to the bayou’s black magic. Those women were the predestined mates for the Pack and the only ones capable of mating and breeding with the wolves. Although the Pack sometimes found a hint of a bride’s scent, that scent could only be tracked on a night with a blue moon. Over the centuries, fate had sent the Packs very few mates and even fewer blue moons. Maybe that was why, if the woman was willing, she might take two mates. Might allow the other Pack members to touch, as if nature wanted to compensate for the rarity of their women.
    A man could dream.
    The woman they tracked now smelled sweet and soft. The man in him had tried to warn Lark Andrews yesterday that the Pack wanted her. He’d wanted her to have that choice. Yes or no. Stay inside tonight and stay safe—or come outside to play with them. Play deeply sensual games with six wolvenkind who’d be happy to sleep with her singly or in a group, with sex or without it, because the Pack, his famille , was slowly dying without females. They needed to find their mates, and each day that slipped away was a ticking time bomb, counting down the hours to the Pack’s ultimate end. A mate grounded her chosen wolf. She was the spiritual and moral anchor that completed him. The missing half they all needed to find because they were unrepentant, soulless bastards who knew how to kill and how to fuck but not much more.
    Eventually, an unmated wolf stopped shifting back, got lost in his beast form and stayed there because he was all animal and no heart, and nature had clearly figured that out. Dag was close to losing what humanity he had left. Hell, they all were.
    So tonight Rafer hunted down this mate, and one of his brothers found a chance to be more than merely his wolf.  Whoever this woman was, she was far more than a one-night stand or even a