FMR (2 page)

along with smaller than average appliances made up the kitchenette,

with a double bed and miniature fireplace in the opposite corner in

what appeared to be the bedroom area.

A narrow door near the back of the cabin must open to the

bathroom, Derek observed. The cabin was indeed compact, but at

least had the basics for someone to survive for a weekend in such

cramped quarters.

"Here, let me take those." Megan reached out and took the bags

from his hands. "And take a seat over there." She nodded to a

kitchenette chair as she began putting the groceries away in the rustic-

looking storage cabinets. "I have a first-aid kit here to patch up your

arm, then I'll rummage up some clothes for you."

"Look! It's already stopped bleeding," he replied with a weary

smile. "And I didn't get a drop of blood on your car seat."

"Bully for you." Megan winked as a sly smile curled her lips.

"Guess that's one less thing we have to worry about, huh?"

Derek shifted uncomfortably in the chair, gazing up into her eyes.

"About tonight, Megan, I'm really sorry for everything. Unlike you, I

don't understand what's happening. I've always been in control of the

beast. It's never been the other way around ... well, until tonight."

"The Samhain moon is growing full. The full moon affects those of

us with wolf-blood differently. Whatever happened to you at the bar

only tipped the scale. We're unique creatures, you and I. Within us,

there is a delicate balance between our human side and our
sithech
.

During the full moon phase, some of our kind may experience violent

outbursts, while others experience extreme ... uh, arousal." Her cheeks

flushed pink in the kitchen light.

Derek suppressed a grin, sensing her aura of cool confidence waver

slightly. The awkwardness was short lived.

"Now, let me see your arm," she bid, scooting the other chair close

to him. She popped open a small first-aid kit.

Derek leaned into the light, revealing a jagged two inch mark along

his flesh. "I don't think it's deep, but it bled like a son of a bitch."

"It may not be deep, but you'll be lucky if this one doesn't leave a

scar," Megan frowned. "The bullet just grazed your skin. Murray's

usually an ace-shot, but missed for once."

Derek shivered as her warm hand encircled his arm to inspect the

wound. There was something happening inside him – a spark, a

connection through her tender, simple touch that sent his senses

reeling. He inhaled a slow, steady breath, trying to keep his focus.

"Thank goodness it's not too serious. I don't think I have enough

supplies for anything more than a scratch or a splinter." She glanced

up at him and smiled, then returned her attention to the first-aid kit,

digging through its contents.

Seated directly in front of him, her scent enveloped him. It was

warm, earthy and laced with musk, exciting his senses. Derek tried

futilely to stop the erotic images of Megan from flickering through his

mind.

"So, why don't you tell me what happened tonight at the bar?" she

asked, not looking up as she cleaned his wound.

A flicker of anger shot through him, cutting through his lusty

thoughts as he recalled what MacDonald had said earlier that evening.

"Megan's family is pure-blooded
sithech
, boy. There's no freakin' way

the pack's gonna accept you ... especially her! Why, you're no more

than a Heinz-57 mutt!"

"It's nothing, Meg," he mumbled, suppressing the heated irritation

that simmered inside him. "Just a misunderstanding between us

guys."

But why did his needling bother me?
He'd weathered insults worse

than MacDonald's before. Besides, the drunken Scot was only a beta

in the town pack. Perhaps Megan was right. Maybe the full moon

was having a strange effect on his wolf senses.

After administrating first aid to Derek's arm, Megan dug into the

storage cabinet and found a black jogging suit along with a battered

pair of sandals. The thought of him wandering around the cabin in

nothing more than a blanket teased her senses.
Not a good idea – at

all.
She sighed
.

"It's not the warmest clothing, but it'll do for tonight." She grinned,

handing him the bundle. "You're lucky I keep a spare here. They're

'one size fits most'."

"Most, huh? I'm afraid I'll bust a seam," Derek retorted, holding the

shirt up to his muscular chest.

Megan swallowed hard as her sex fluttered in response. The cabin

suddenly felt very claustrophobic and warm, definitely warm, despite

the nighttime chill. "Well, at least try to squeeze into it after your

shower. I won't want you to catch a cold," she replied, playfully

wagging a finger at him. "The temperature's already dipped a few

degrees, so I'll step outside and get some timber. You hit the shower."

"Yes ma'am," Derek replied with a cheeky salute, heading into the

tiny bathroom with its metallic shower stall, small sink and commode.

Megan figured after a hot shower, Derek would collapse onto the

mattress and be sound asleep within moments. From the weary

expression on his face, she could tell his transformation had zapped

his energy. The adrenaline of the night's events had subsided and,

before long, exhaustion would set in.

Derek was certainly a lone-wolf. No living parents or a pack,

either. Her heart ached for him.
No wonder he doesn't know how to

preserve his strength.
Megan sighed. It also explained why he didn't

know about 'bad moons' and their effect on the
sithech
. She couldn't

imagine being a lone
sithech
.
But Derek's a lot stronger than our

pack gives him credit for.
Megan smiled, pulling on her denim jacket.

That was, of course, if he survived the Samhain moon.

She concluded a good night's rest would do Derek good and

stepped out onto the wooden porch. Leaving him alone to fall asleep

was best. Her own blood was stirring in her veins. She was feeling

the effects of the full moon, too. Recognizing her body's signals, she

inhaled a deep, calming breath to soothe her jangled nerves.

Folding her arms over her chest, Megan focused on the sounds of

the cool, autumn night. Town was miles away. All she could hear

was the familiar rustlings of the woods and the rippling water of the

lake nearby. Somewhere a distant owl hooted. Stepping off the

porch, she slowly walked the tree-lined perimeter surrounding the

cabin. Thankfully, there were no usual sounds or unfamiliar scents to

alert her to any intruders in the vicinity.

Buzz! Buzzz!

Her cell phone was vibrating in her jacket pocket. She pulled it out,

glancing at the caller ID, then flipped open the phone.

"Hello?"

"Geez, Meg, where are you? I've been worried sick!" Rhonda

Morrison's voice crackled through the receiver.

Sensing her best friend's anxiety, Megan took a breath before she

responded. "I'm okay, Ronnie. Everything's fine."

"Tell me, what the hell happened on Main Street tonight? Your

brother's fit to be tied! He wanted me to call you. What's going on?"

Megan proceeded to fill her in on the events of the past hour or two.

She could tell Rhonda was trying to digest her account, not saying a

word, waiting until she was finished.

"So, I brought Derek here to Dad's cabin. He's patched up and

sleeping right now. Everything's cool."

"Cool, huh? He gave us quite a scare with that stunt he pulled! Ray

wanted me to tell you there's an emergency meeting tomorrow – nine

a.m. at the diner. Come alone, if you can. Derek is okay to be left

alone, isn't he?"

"Yes, I trust him. He'll be fine while I'm in town. Just reassure

Ray I'm safe and I'll be there in the morning, okay?"

The tenseness in her friend's tone dropped a notch. "Okay, I'll tell

Ray. But you be careful, Megan. Girl, I worry about you."

"Yeah, I know," Megan smiled into the uber-thin receiver. "Like I

said, everything's fine. I'll see y'all tomorrow, bright and early."

Saying their 'good-byes', she flipped the phone shut with a heavy

sigh. Rhonda was as close as a sister to her. It was times like this

Megan was grateful Ronnie was an excellent intermediary between

her and her older brothers. Really lucky.

With a sudden feeling of momentary relief, Megan turned her face

up to the moon's glowing light. It was almost full in the night sky,

riding high above the tree tops. Deep inside her, she felt the flicker of

a deep-seated, passionate fire as her thoughts returned to Derek.

Damn it! I have to remain in control ... for myself and for Derek!

She didn't want him to witness her in the throes of moon fever –

when she could get dangerously aroused. Any
sithech
within her sight

was not safe. Especially a male.
But that was long ago. I've

overcome a bad moon before ... and I won't let it happen again!
she

vowed.

* * * *

perspiration covered him, making the undersized t-shirt cling to his

skin.
Damn, it's blazing hot!
Frustrated, he kicked the blanket onto

the floor and sat up on the edge of the bed.

"So much for trying to sleep," he grumbled, spearing a hand

through his hair. "Megan?" He glanced around the semi-dark cabin.

There was no fire in the hearth. The cabin was empty ... and

unusually quiet. A sickly feeling coiled in his gut as his senses

sharpened, on alert.
She should've been back by now. That's not a

good sign.
He sprang to his feet, and slipped into a pair of worn,

leather sandals.

A cool autumn breeze caressed him as he stepped out onto the

wooden porch. "Megan?" he called out into the darkness surrounding

the cabin. "Megan, sweetheart, are you okay?" No reply. Nothing

except the sounds of nocturnal creatures in the woods and the watery-

sounds of a nearby lake.

Derek glanced over to the gravel driveway. Her Honda was still

parked right where she'd left it. His heart pounded wildly as he leapt

off the porch. His skin was itching beneath his clothing. The
sithech

inside wanted out. Derek glanced up at the moon over the tree tops.

"Damn you!" he hissed. "This is all your fault, isn't it?"

The moon glowed back, cold, silent and aloof.

A rustle in the bushes near the car caught Derek's attention. He

stilled, holding his breath. His heart lurched into his throat as he

made out a pair of eyes staring at him from the darkened hedge.

The creature leapt out from its hiding place. A large, reddish-hued

wolf with green eyes. It was Megan in her
sithech
form. Derek had

never seen another of his kind until now. His heart softened, deep-

seated emotions bubbling inside him. Joy and happiness mingled with

awe and a dash of fear. "Megan, is that you?" he asked softly, holding

his still, uncertain stance. "I was worried about you."

The wolf let out a low whimper, slowly padding toward him on

four paws. Within a few feet of him, she stopped and sniffed the air.

Derek knew she sensed his fear. "I'm sorry, honey. I've never seen

you like uh, this before." He managed a thin smile. "But you're

beautiful. Really, really beautiful."

He didn't know how much of what he said she'd comprehend. In

his own experience, he recalled that sometimes he felt human inside,

other times not.

"Remember what I said earlier, Derek. Within us, there is a

delicate balance between our human side and our sithech."
Derek

heard her voice in his head as if she were speaking directly to him.

The wolf blinked her big, green eyes, then slowly nodded.
"Of course

I can understand you."

"Oh, good!" Derek exhaled a sigh of relief. "For a moment there, I

thought I was the lunatic."

Megan trotted over to the porch and laid a paw on a pile of clothing

... her clothing, folded neatly on a wooden plank. She glanced back at

him, a glimmer of moonlight in her eyes.
"Wait here a moment,"
she

conveyed, then disappeared around the side of the house. Within a

few minutes, a bare arm appeared around the edge of the cabin.

"My clothes, please?" she asked with a wave of her hand. "Sorry I