Chapter 16 - Moira

"And you think he had nothing to do with this?" Vera said with a cold laugh, throwing her hands up. "You're not a fool, Moira, think this through. Who benefits from Mrs. Alden going missing? The person about to pay her a huge chunk of money for like, no benefit to himself. It's Jonah. It has to be."

Moira didn't want to believe it, even if she could see how the pieces fit together, how everything had started with Jonah getting to town and continued to escalate ever after. He was the common thread. She'd let herself fall for him a little bit, more than she'd wanted to, and the baby tied them together as much as fate did. But she couldn't trust him. Vera was right; he was the one with something to gain here.

"But why promise me that he'd buy it? He didn't have to do that. It doesn't make sense," Moira protested.

Loaf was curled up on her lap, and he meowed in protest when she grew agitated, stretching his paw out to brush against her arm, claws extended. A little warning that if she moved too much, she'd get it. The horror movie they'd been watching had lost its bite. After all, her life was a horror movie. No chainsaw could scare her.

Vera sighed and ticked off the reasons on her fingers, one by one. "He gets here, and he's got a bad reputation, deservedly so. He needs to show he's a good boy now, so he makes amends with the woman he bullied. Then, to build up his credit so he can become alpha, he makes up a story about how you two are fated mates, and the pack's fate is tied to you two. No one else hears this prophecy. Convenient, huh?"

She emptied the last of the popcorn bowl into her mouth. Vera had kept her eyes closed for half of the movie and seemed eager to turn the attention away from what was happening on screen. Her sister had never been one for horror, which is how Moira knew how pathetic she looked.

"Why me?" Moira wondered aloud, voice small. It made some sense. She couldn't deny that, but of all the potential mates, why had he chosen her?

Vera's face turned sympathetic, almost pitying, in a way that made Moira bristle. "Because you were already his target once, and he knows you're weak against him. You're an easy mark."

Moira's cheeks burned. Was that all she was to him? She wanted to deny it, but that was impossible, because it was the deep fear at the core of her already. That this time with Jonah was just a continuation of the games he'd played with her in high school.

She stopped herself from touching her stomach, from feeling the soothing presence of her baby inside of her. "I don't want to believe it."

"Oh honey," Vera said, reaching across the counter to take Moira's hand. "I know you don't. Who would? You're having his baby. But you can do it on your own. You don't need him, I promise."

Memories of moments with Jonah replayed in her mind in a loop, and she tried to hold them up, to parse out what was real and what wasn't. Impossible work, when her own feelings toed that line. She couldn't tell how much of what she'd done had been on the pretense of being his fake mate and how much of it she'd just wanted to do. Attraction was an easy excuse. Jonah was hot. Maybe she could convince herself that's all it was.

She knocked the tears off her cheeks and straightened up, refusing to waste time crying over something that was nothing more than a business transaction gone messy. "I don't, you're right. Right now, we just need to focus on finding Mrs. Alden. I'm worried about her. Do you think she's hurt?"

"I think it's likely, given what we know about Jonah. Remember, he's a White Winter." Vera's tone left no room for argument, even as Moira wanted to leap to Jonah's defense. He wasn't a White Winter anymore. Or was he?

Had she only seen what she'd wanted to see, a man that had bullied her once, now begging for her? Vera was right. It made her the perfect target. The sap that would go along with his plan.

Vera got up from the couch and grabbed her coat from the hook as the credits started to roll. "We have to get going. We're meeting the pack in ten, remember?"

Moira jolted, knocking Loaf out of her lap. He gave her a reproachful look and sauntered off, tail flicking back and forth in annoyance. She'd have to give him extra catnip later to make up for it.

"I can't," Moira said, searching for a lie that would keep Vera from asking too many questions. She set her hands on her stomach. "I'm just too exhausted from this pregnancy. The first trimester is rough like that."

Vera pursed her lips and gave a terse nod. "Okay, fine, but don't stay up late watching another movie then and fall asleep on the couch. You always get awful sleep when you fall asleep on the couch."

It was true, but Moira still disliked how Vera said it. She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. Thanks, Mom. Let me know what the pack says?"

"You got it." Vera pulled her hat over her head, pom pom bouncing. "I mean it. Right to bed."

Moira saluted. "Got it."

Vera waited until Moira got up off the couch to leave and then brought the popcorn bowl to the sink. She changed out of her lounge clothes and into jeans, a turtleneck, and thick wool socks. She stooped to give Loaf a scratch and a fish-shaped treat before apologizing.

"Sorry buddy, I have to go too, but I'll be back soon, I promise." She kissed the top of his head and crept downstairs, pausing to make sure that Vera was long gone before she opened the door.

It was one of those crystal autumn nights when the threat of frost hung in the air, and there were no clouds in the sky to block the cold, dark expanse. Stars twinkled there, but to Moira, they seemed duller somehow, at odds with the sharp chill, as if some of their light had gone out. She shifted, taking the wolf form that felt like home to her.

She took the opposite path that Vera had taken, heading toward Jonah's apartment on the edge of the Silversand coast. The cafe was empty, shuttered two hours ago at closing time, and above, Jonah's apartment was dark. His trail, however, was fresh on the pavement.

Moira followed the most recent track and tried to ignore the bubble of shame that told her to go home. Vera's words had sunken in too deeply to just shake off. She needed to know for sure.

His trail led out of town and onto the beach. Moira stayed close to the dunes where the scrubby grass could hide her form. She planned the lie she'd tell him if he caught her, that she'd just needed a late night walk, that the pregnancy made it hard to sleep.

When she found him, he wasn't alone. Moira could make out their two shapes sitting on the sand, their feet in the surf, even though it must have been frigid. The man beside Jonah was larger than him, thick with muscle, and she didn't recognize him from behind. She had to get closer.

Crouching low, she crept along the dune grass. Each paw was carefully placed. The low murmur of their voices became more solid, more discernible, with every step she took.

"I'll miss you guys too, but I can't leave this place. Not now. Not after everything," Jonah was saying, shoulders hunched. "I'd be worse than my father if I did that."

The other man clapped Jonah on the back, two hard slaps that rang out through the night. Moira flattened her ears.

"And it doesn't hurt that you've finally found your mate, does it? What's she like?" The man asked, nudging Jonah with his shoulder in an intimately friendly way. The kind of easy camaraderie that comes from years of knowing each other.

What was this man? Moira wondered. She wanted to slink closer and get a look at his face but didn't dare, already counting her blessings, that the dunes were downwind of the men. Swiveling her ears, she strained for Jonah's response.

"She's… everything. Doesn't take any of my shit. Gorgeous. More kind and forgiving than I've ever deserved." Jonah's shoulders shook as he took a deep breath. "But she's not really my mate, Dev. Just because the soothsayer said it, doesn't mean she has to go along with it. All we've got right now is a deal. A mutually beneficial agreement."

Moira recognized that name. Dev. He was the White Winter Alpha, the one that Jonah called his best friend. It didn't look good after what Vera had said about Jonah being a White Winter, having his alpha here. Were they in on the plot together? Was it part of a White Winter plan to weaken the two packs so they could take over everything?

Dev nodded emphatically. "I think you know I'm uniquely suited to comment on this, man. There was vitriol between me and Beth, too, remember? We overcame that. Have faith that you two can do the same because it sounds like you're really crazy about this girl. I've never seen you like this."

She didn't dare to breathe. Could Jonah's feelings for her be real and not just the tools he needed to make his plan happen?

"I hope you're right. But even if it doesn't work out that way, I need to be here. I want to help Silversand get its legs under it again. I want to build something better, like I helped you do with the White Winters. And I want to be here for our baby." Jonah's voice cracked with emotion on the last words, and Moira's pulse quickened.

He sounded so genuine. There was no one around to watch this interaction. They had no reason to perform. She let herself hope for a second that it was real and that Vera had been wrong after all, that her own fears were unfounded, riding the tails of the trauma she'd faced in high school.

"You're a good man, Jo. The best friend a guy could ever have. Come visit, okay? We'd love to have you once things have settled down and you can make it out there."

"If things ever settle down," Jonah replied, running his hands through his hair in a way that Moira had become very familiar with. She liked the way it made his wild curls even wilder. "First, there was vandalism, and now someone is missing? Never mind the direct attacks on me and Moira. I need to get to the bottom of this before it's too late."

"You think it's this Evans guy? Your half-brother?" Devon asked, twisting to face Jonah.

"I think so, but I can't find him. The second I start closing in on him, he vanishes like smoke."

"Don't try to do this alone." Devon got to his feet and brushed the sand from his clothes. "You've made friends here, so lean on them. Learn from my mistakes. We're part of a pack for a reason."

"Nobody trusts me here," Jonah said, standing. "And I can't blame them."

Devon caught Jonah in a one-arm hug, and Moira knew she should take the opportunity to leave, to run off before they shifted and caught her, but she couldn't drag herself away. She was hanging on every word the men had to say.

"They'll come around. Like I said, you're the best guy I know."

Jonah said something she couldn't hear, something that made Devon laugh, and then they both shifted into their wolf forms. Moira laid flat in the sand and held her breath. Their scents grew further away, but she still waited. Everything she'd feared turned out to be false. The truth was, Jonah cared about her, cared about the Silversands, and was everything he said he was trying to be.

She knew Vera wouldn't believe her words, no matter what she said, but if they could catch the real culprit, she'd have no choice but to admit that Jonah was not at fault for everything. Five minutes later, when she was certain the beach was empty, Moira got to her feet and shook the sand from her fur.

She felt lighter than she had in months. Their situation was complicated, messy, anything but a simple fairy tale, but it was their story. If she dared to, she could let her feelings for Jonah blossom into something she didn't have to hide.

If she hurried, she could still make it to the Rosewood meeting and make it clear that she supported Jonah. They'd be wasting time if they focused on him, and the real villain would get away. Moira couldn't stand the idea of Mrs. Alden being hurt as part of a plot to get to her, so she put on an extra burst of speed.

The Rosewoods were out hunting. She heard the howling calls back and forth as they kept track of each other, crisscrossing the town and into the dense thicket of woods that ringed it. They were drawing nearer to each other, coming together at the Rosewood tree, she guessed. Moira made her way there.

"There you are," Vera said, shifting into her human form when she reached the tree's overhanging branches. She pushed one aside and joined Moira.

"Did you find something?" Moira asked, tense. Her fingers dug into her palms.

Adria joined them, shaking her long hair out while shedding her wolf form. "We caught Mrs. Alden's scent, mixed with a shifter's. Whoever they are, they led us in circles and slipped away from us, somehow. They're crafty."

Spencer growled his frustration and snapped at the air. When he shifted, his eyes were stormy. "Bastard. Did anyone get a good look at him?"

Vera shifted, hands linked behind her back. Moira knew the gesture; it was the one she made when she wanted to conceal the truth. She gave Vera a jab with her elbow to push her forward.

She shot Moira a venomous look but relented under Spencer and Adria's hopeful gazes. "I did."

"And?" Spencer prompted, rounding on her. He was fired up from the hunt and seemed eager to get back to it, to sink his teeth into the wolf that had been terrorizing his pack. "Who was it?"

"Was it Jonah?" Adria asked with an apologetic look toward Moira.

Vera looked at Moira sideways before admitting, "No, it wasn't. It was someone unfamiliar. A new wolf, I think."

Moira's heart swelled even though she knew it couldn't have been Jonah they'd been stalking as she'd had eyes on him all night. It was the relief of the rest of the pack knowing that it wasn't her mate at fault for everything. Even Vera had to admit it now.

Spencer scratched the stubble on his chin, thoughtful.

Moira jumped in to add her own weight to the accusation. "Was it tan and large, bigger than most wolves?"

Vera nodded. "From what I saw, it might've been tan. It was hard to tell in the light, but he was big."

Moira realized she was cradling her arm, concealing it from the others behind her back. On closer inspection, she could see the lines of pain on Vera's face that she had mistaken for exhaustion after her run with the pack. The crinkles around her eyes were tight with it.

"What happened?" Moira demanded, pulling Vera's arm forward carefully. Her palm came back wet with warm, red blood. If she hadn't been so distracted, she wouldn't have been able to miss the rusty tang of it in the air.

Vera glanced down at the wound and shrugged it off. Under the flickering lights of the tree, Moira could make out the raking scrapes down her forearm, the skin peeled back to reveal the angry flesh below.

"He was out for blood tonight," she said, pulling her scarf from her neck to wrap it tightly around the bleeding gash. "He jumped me when I was on my way to the meeting. Bastard caught me before I shifted, or I would've ripped his throat out and fed it to him."

Blood rushed from Moira's face. She couldn't help picturing what might have happened if Vera hadn't reacted so quickly, if she hadn't been such a capable, scrappy fighter. A human was no match for a wolf, and definitely not one of that size.

"How did you get away?" Moira gasped.

She wanted to pull Vera into a hug and never let her go, but knew the gesture would not be appreciated right then. She felt at fault for what had happened to her, as if she could've stopped it somehow.

Adria stepped in. "I was just across the street when it happened and heard her yell. He was quick, though. By the time I'd shifted and howled for the others, he'd taken off into the woods."

Spencer crossed his arms and glared around the green like the wolf in question might reappear at any moment. He looked older, shadowed crags in his face, after the struggles of the past few weeks. It must be eating at him, unable to catch the monster that lurked so closely to those he loved most.

"And then the hunt was on," Vera said, clutching her arm. Blood seeped into the scarf and stained it crimson, the fabric ruined. "I should go stitch this up and get some antibiotics. Who knows what kind of filth was in that mouth."

"We'll walk you home," Adria said, glancing at Spencer for confirmation. He nodded. "I don't want anyone out in human form alone at night. Not until this guy is caught."

That would make things difficult. Moira needed to see Jonah. He needed to know what had happened that evening with the Rosewoods. And, she admitted to herself a little reluctantly, she wanted to see him too.

She let the others walk her home and waited for them to leave before shifting and heading off down the street to the cafe, where Jonah lived above it. He answered after two knocks, looking surprised but happy to see her.

"Moira? What are you doing here so late?" He asked, pushing the door open to welcome her in. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. "Come in before you freeze. I just finished dinner, but I can make you a bowl, if you're hungry."

Moira swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away from his bare chest. To her surprise, Jonah's apartment was tidy and had the touches that spoke of a home. It smelled amazing, like roasted squash and cinnamon, and something buttery.

"That wolf attacked Vera tonight," she said, lingering by his couch. A knit blanket was thrown casually over the corner.

He blanched. "Is she okay? He's getting bold."

"She's fine," Moira said, "but he caught her in human form, and she's got a bite on her arm. She's patching it up herself, of course."

Jonah chuffed and drew her onto the couch. "Sounds like her. Are you okay? You look pale, and you're shaking."

His hands roamed over her arms, up and down, as he forced warmth into them. As always, her body leaped to respond to his touch. She didn't want to talk anymore or think about the worries biting their heels and the tangle of problems lurking over her shoulder. She just wanted him. Daring, she ran her hands over the smooth planes of his chest and felt his breathing hitch.

When his lips met hers, they were hot and soft and needy, catching her lower lip between his teeth. She straddled him, feeling the hardness of his cock between her legs.

"God, I want you," he said, grabbing her hips hard, eyes wide when she started to rock back and forth over his length. "it's all I can think about."

She needed him and was in no mood to wait, though she liked the strain of desperation in his voice. Freeing his cock, pleased to find he was wearing nothing beneath those sweatpants, she pushed her panties to one side and hitched up her skirt, letting the tip tease her entrance to slick it. When it was wet enough or when she couldn't stand another second without him inside of her, she sank down on top of him, taking as much of him as she could.

He groaned and tightened his grip on her, fingertips digging into her skin. One of his hands moved to her clit, thumbing the bundle of nerves there in a way that had her shaking, keening out noises she'd never heard from herself before. Jonah bucked his hips up, sinking deeper inside of her until there was no space at all between them.

They moved as one. His thrusts found something deep inside of her that made her clench around him. Jonah's head dropped back, but his eyes were fixed on her. Her orgasm came suddenly, washing over her in shattering waves. Beneath her, Jonah was not far behind. He pulled her down hard on top of him, sheathing every inch of his cock inside of her before filling her with his seed.

Wrung out, Moira collapsed against his chest. His breathing mirrored her own, unsteady, gasping. As his fingers stroked over her hair and down her back, Moira's eyes began to close. There was so much to tell him, so much she had to explain, but the world would have to wait a little longer. Wrapped in his cocoon of warmth and safety, Moira slept.