Red Rose Moon (Seasons of the Moon) (2 page)

Rylie held the ring up so that he could see it, and she tried not to shake too obviously. “Seth… would you ask me again?”

A smile grew on Seth’s face. “Right now? At five in the morning, while I’m in my boxers?”

Rylie nodded silently, cheeks burning.

He dropped to his knee and took her hand in his. Seth’s dark eyes were filled with heat and love. It didn’t reflect the loathing she felt for herself at all.

“Rylie Gresham,” Seth said, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She swallowed hard and pressed a hand to her belly.

“Yes,” she whispered, and she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze while she said it.

T
HREE

Blessings

It turned out that Gwyneth’s
new address didn’t belong to an apartment building at all, but a cute house in the suburbs on the north side. It had a greenhouse filled with the lush leaves of flourishing produce—Gwyn could make anything grow, at any time—and a holiday wreath on the front door.

Crystal and Trevin were having breakfast at the Denny’s down the street, so Seth and Rylie approached alone, hand-in-hand. They didn’t even get the chance to knock on the door before it opened.

“Look at the two of you,” Gwyn said, cheeks dimpling as she took in the sight of them on her doorstep. Her gray hair was brushed out, and she wore a white blouse with clean jeans. Almost like a soccer mom.

“Gwyn!”

Rylie hugged her aunt tight. She smelled good, too—like the pleasant, buttery odor of baked bread.

She probably hung on too long, but Gwyn didn’t let her go, either. When Rylie finally stepped back, Gwyn turned her attention on Seth. “You taking care of my girl?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning widely. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they got into town. He lifted his broken hand. “Myself? Not so much.”

“Ooh. That looks like it hurt.”

She stepped aside, and Rylie immediately smelled the presence of someone else in the house. It wasn’t the kind of smell that a visitor would leave behind; it was in the carpet, the furniture, the walls. Someone living with Gwyn. Her aunt had mentioned that she had a new girlfriend.

Rylie closed her eyes and took a deep breath to see how much she could learn. Nobody in the house smoked. Someone liked peach soap—that definitely wasn’t Gwyn. There was also the smell of spice, herbs, and fresh soil. It was all wonderfully earthy.

When she opened her eyes, Gwyneth was giving her a knowing look. “What do you think, babe?”

Rylie blushed. “She smells good. Where is she?”

“Heather’s with family this week. Come on, breakfast’s in the kitchen.”

Gwyn had obviously prepared for Rylie’s arrival. There were steak and eggs being kept hot on a tray in the oven, and Rylie absolutely devoured them. Whenever she wasn’t nauseous, she was starving—it felt like she couldn’t eat enough to satisfy herself.

Seth was a little politer about picking up a croissant, buttering it, and starting to eat.

“What have you kids been up to?” Gwyn asked. She wasn’t eating anything. “I didn’t expect you to visit anytime soon, considering how busy the sanctuary keeps you.”

Rylie’s cheeks were bulging, so Seth explained everything.

“It’s been bad, Gwyn,” he said. “We went looking for answers with Cain, and we found them. It turns out that Cain is another son of Eleanor. Different dad than I have, but…” Seth gave a casual shrug, as if it didn’t bother him. Rylie could see the tension in his shoulders. “Anyway, Cain was hiding at our sanctuary the whole time. It was Vanthe.”

“I should have known that guy was too helpful.” Gwyn didn’t look even remotely surprised. “Damn. What can I do to help? I figure you must have come here for something.”

Rylie swallowed her last bite of steak and exchanged looks with Seth.

“We’re not actually here because of that.” Her cheeks burned as she pulled her hands into her lap and toyed with the engagement ring.

Seth fixed Gwyn with his most charming smile. “Gwyneth, I was wondering if I could—”

“Yes,” Gwyn said.

He blinked. “I was going to ask permission—”

“You’re asking if you can marry Rylie, and I’m telling you ‘yes.’” She grinned. “Asking her family for permission? Are you a caveman? Come here, boy, come here.” Seth circled the table, and Gwyn captured him in a huge hug.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Nonsense. Ain’t nobody I’d like to have in my family more than you.”

She kissed him on the cheek.

“We were hoping to do it soon,” Seth said. “We’d like to hold it at the Gresham Ranch before the next moon.”

“The next moon? Why?”

Rylie bit her bottom lip and avoided her aunt’s questioning gaze. “Considering everything that’s happening with Cain and Eleanor, I don’t think we have time to mess around,” she said, trying to sound casual about it. That was the excuse she had given Seth, but it was harder to lie to her aunt.

Nothing got past Gwyn. Her gaze sharpened.

“Seth, would you clean up breakfast?” Gwyn asked. “It’s your privilege as the newest member of the family, broken hand and all.”

He laughed. “Of course.”

Gwyneth gestured, and Rylie had no choice but to follow her out into the living room. It was decorated like a country cottage, and just as cozy as the kitchen; Rylie could easily imagine having a tea party at the coffee table. It must have been Heather’s style.

She took three steps into the room before her aunt spoke.

“I’m happy to arrange your wedding, babe. You know that. But so soon…” Gwyn’s gaze sharpened. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Rylie’s cheeks flushed, and she gaped like a dying fish as she searched for words. She glanced at the kitchen door, then back at her aunt, hoping that Seth hadn’t heard what her aunt just said.

How could Gwyn have known? How had Rylie given herself away?

Her speechlessness was answer enough. Gwyneth sat on the couch with a weighty sigh. “Well,” she said. “Well, well.”

“Oh God.” Rylie sank onto the opposite chair and dropped her face into her hands. She didn’t want to see the anger on her aunt’s face.

“Eighteen is mighty young to start a family.”

“You think I did this to myself on purpose?”

Gwyn chuckled. “You make it sound like you’re trying to perform a self-amputation or something else terrible.”

“
Pregnant
,” Rylie whispered. It was so hard to say the word out loud. Gwyn smoothed the hair off of Rylie’s forehead, and her entire face glowed with warmth and joy.

“Your daddy would have been a wonderful grandpa, and I know he’d be disappointed if I didn’t spoil your baby rotten.”

Rylie blinked. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad?” Gwyn laughed. “How could I be mad? Babies are always a blessing. Maybe it’s not the right time, but it’s
never
the right time. You’re smart, Rylie, and Seth is a fine young man. I can’t think of anyone better equipped to handle it.”

Rylie hadn’t even realized that she had been worried about Gwyn’s reaction until that moment. She suddenly felt so much lighter.

And then her aunt spoke again.

“Have you thought about what this is going to do to you and Abel?”

Rylie smiled sheepishly. “You’re way too perceptive.”

Her aunt tapped a finger on her temple. “Forgot to tell you. I’m psychic.”

“No, you’re just old. You’ve seen everything.”

“Not so old that I can’t still kick your ass, girl,” Gwyn said. “Abel’s going to be hurt. I know things had changed between you two. Just make sure to be honest about your feelings, and it’ll be fine.”

“That’s the problem, Gwyn,” Rylie whispered. “I don’t know what I feel.”

She didn’t have to say any more than that. Her aunt obviously understood.

“Everything changes when you bring kids into the picture. I think your choice has been made for you, babe.” She squeezed Rylie’s hand. “What does Seth think?”

“I might not have told him yet.”

“Tell him. And tell him soon. Trust him—he’ll be fine.” Gwyn gave her a tight hug, and then gave a bright, sparkling laugh. It had been years since Rylie heard her aunt laugh like that. “Now, we better get moving. Sounds like we have a shotgun wedding to plan.”

F
OUR

Transport

Abel had hung out with
Cain when he was still pretending to be a member of the pack, and he had seemed pretty cool. Abel had assumed that it was all pretense—there was no way that someone who sent Rylie silver bullets and wrote threatening messages in blood could be a fairly nice guy.

Nice or not, Cain
was
polite. He made sure that Abel was comfortable as his men trussed him up and put him in the back of a semi. There were even blankets waiting so that he wouldn’t get cold in the shipping container. And after a few hours of driving, they untied him long enough so he could walk around and take a piss—though they never took their guns off of him, even for a moment.

There was no mistaking Cain as nice, though. His men were afraid of him. It showed in every glance and gesture. A nice guy didn’t give people a reason to fear him like that.

After their pit stop, the engine groaned to life. The semi began to move.

Cain sat down cross-legged in front of Abel once the back door of the semi was closed again. The shipping container was empty aside from the two men. “You’re being awfully compliant,” Cain said.

“That’s because I’m thinking about how much enjoyment I’m gonna get from killing you,” Abel said. And because he had spent the last two hours wearing down his ropes so that he could break free, but he wasn’t quite there yet. “Where’s Eleanor?”

“She’s resting at home,” Cain said, sweeping his coarse golden curls out of his face with a gesture that eerily resembled Seth. “She’s not doing well.”

“Good,” Abel said.

Rage darkened Cain’s features, and Abel prepared for what he knew had to be coming—the same kinds of torture Seth had endured at the hands of Cain’s followers. But the other man didn’t make a move to touch him.

Unfortunately, not all torture was physical.

“Eleanor never loved you,” Cain said.

Abel clamped his mouth shut and didn’t take the bait. His wrists, tethered behind his back, were almost free.

“I grew up alone, Abel,” Cain went on. “I never knew the warmth of a mother’s love.”

Abel barked a laugh. “And you think you’ll get it from Eleanor?”

“I already do. She’s the family I’ve always longed for. And you—you tried to
kill
her.”

“Tried? I thought we did a pretty good job,” Abel said. The tension on his wrists slackened. He was free. He didn’t move or show any other sign of it.

Anger flashed across Cain’s face. “Seth doesn’t love you, either.”

“Bullshit.”

“He took the woman you love.”

“Seth got there first.” Abel tried to make it sound like that didn’t bother him, but a smile spread on Cain’s lips. He knew that he had struck a nerve.

“Seth has everything. He has an education. The ability to better himself. A future. And now Rylie. How long do you think it’s going to be until they get married?” Abel’s hands clenched into fists behind his back. “You were the one that was there for Rylie while Seth went to college. But what do you have? Nothing. You
are
nothing.”

He bristled. “I’m a hell of a lot more than that.”

“Yeah? What have you got going for you? I’m dying to hear.”

The problem was that Abel couldn’t think of any examples. Everything Cain said were the exact things that had been gnawing at him ever since he resigned himself to becoming a werewolf.

He used to live for the goal of wiping out the species. That was so easy to focus on. So simple. All he had to do was hunt and kill.

Then he was bitten, and everything changed.

Now what did he have? A future running around on four legs every other week? It wasn’t like he could get a job. The only thing he knew how to do was kill.

Cain’s eyes glimmered. “You tried to murder our mother. You deserve this ruined life.”

“Deserve? I don’t know about that. I don’t do well with philosophical thinking,” Abel said. “Guess I’m not educated enough.”

Cain chuckled. That was when Abel lunged.

He unleashed the full power of the werewolf’s speed and strength and bowled Cain over.

No mercy
. Abel went straight for the sensitive zones—driving his knee into Cain’s gonads, slamming his hand into the bridge of his nose, pounding the solar plexus. He heard ribs crack. Cain didn’t even have time to cry out.

But all werewolves could sponge up damage and keep going. Cain was no exception.

He flipped Abel over onto his back and squeezed his throat. Blood streamed down his lips.

Abel knocked his arms off and threw Cain across the shipping container. The impact of his body dented the metal. The shipping container rocked with the strength of their struggle, and Abel thought he felt the semi swerve.

“Come on,” Cain said with his back against the wall. He snorted up a wad of blood and phlegm and spit it out again. “You’re supposed to be tough.”

“Tough?” Abel asked, and he laughed. It made his ribs creak.

Then he plunged a thumb into Cain’s eye.

Cain roared with pain, clapping his hands over his face as he fell to his knees.

Abel scrambled to the back door and delivered a swift kick to the place he knew the latch had to be. Metal snapped. The door’s springs engaged, and it rolled open.

Highway stretched behind him. They were already out of California again and across another state. It looked like the route toward the Gresham Ranch.

Cain staggered to his feet. “Don’t you—” he began.

Abel jumped.

He angled for the side of the road, but his shoulder still struck pavement.

And then he was flying.

Abel had an instant to stare up at the cold blue sky and realize that he had been struck by one of the cars behind the semi.

His body bounced on a windshield. Glass fractured. He tried to grab something—anything—but the momentum pushed him off the back of the car and onto the road again.