Blood on the Moon

Rose

“Fuck, Rose,” Victor greets as he opens the door. “I was about to call in the cavalry to get you.”

“Oh hush,” I tease as I walk into the office, running my hand through my hair. “It wasn’t half as bad as we imagined.”

“Did Genevieve get off your back?” He asks.

My mind instantly flashes to his brown eyes, tan skin, and how his white teeth gleamed when he smiled at me.

“Is that smile supposed to mean she did?”

“I didn’t talk to Genevieve, actually,” I reply. “I spoke with her sister, Margaery, and her mate, Asher.”

“That’s interesting,” Victor replies, rubbing his chin as he leans against the windowsill, the half-moon serving a bright backdrop in the window's top right corner. “Were they reasonable?”

“Not only that, they seemed sympathetic. As if they are annoyed with Genevieve as well,” I reply as I sit on the edge of his desk, crossing my legs. “Margaery and I spoke before I went to the interrogation room. She was warning me about Genevieve’s temper. Almost as if she was scared of it herself.”

“And the Alpha?” Victor asks.

I press my lips in a line as I straighten my posture. How much information should I divulge about Asher? I don’t want people thinking he’s weak because that would be a mischaracterization, but an easy one to make if I tell Victor about his demeanor.

I don’t want people to think less of him.

“He was stern but fair,” I reply, keeping my answer vague. “He agreed that we had no malicious intent and let me go.”

I tilt my head back, forcing down a smile as I think of his shirt. It fit him perfectly, tight in all the right places, either by design or because he’s such a mountain of a man. I wish he would’ve unbuttoned it a few more notches down. I bite my lip, letting my imagination run wild with how that might look, how it might feel to rake my fingertips down the hard plains of his chest.

That’s good news,” Victor replies. “But I wonder why Genevieve didn’t speak to you directly, especially since she confronted you on our territory.”

I wonder if his chest is bare or hairy? Mmm, I think either would look incredible on him. My core tightens as I think of what he’d look like in the shower, those droplets falling off his massive pecs. Fuck, I’d love to-

“Rose?”

“Yeah?” I ask, snapping my head to look at Victor, hiding my embarrassment after being caught in such naughty thoughts.

“I said that it’s strange Genevive didn’t interview you.”

I nod, glancing off to the side. “I agree.”

Not that I minded Asher’s visit, of course.

Hell, I wouldn’t mind a second meeting with him.

Asher

“Hey, baby,” I greet as I stand, wrapping my arm around Gen’s waist as she walks into the bedroom. “Just caught me coming out of the shower,” I add with a wink, my hair still damp as I gesture to my shirtless body.

She nods, paying no attention as she pulls her hair out of a ponytail, her cheeks flushed and the nape of her neck sweaty.

“What were you up to today?” I ask, biting the inside of my lip.

“Training with Carter,” she replies, referring to our Chief Patrolman.

I rest my hands on my hips and ask, “I thought you started seeing someone else for that?”

She shrugs. “Nobody else is as good as him.”

I roll my eyes, hiding my hurt. She had a relationship with him before she and I got together, so when she said she’d receive private lessons from him, I wasn’t thrilled.

It’s not like she hasn’t cheated on me before, although she denies it. But being a werewolf, it’s hard to lie when your partner’s mark burns any time you’re sexually intimate with someone else.

And my mark has flared a few dozen times. Not just from when she’s training with Carter, either.

“Oh my Goddess,” she grunts, rolling her eyes. “Are you seriously still paranoid about that?”

“I mean-”

“No!” She interrupts. “I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit about your mark burning or whatever.” She sighs, flashing me a sweet smile as she caresses my face. “It’s all in your head, baby. Your mind makes you feel something that’s not there because you’re worked up or something. It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“But I-”

“Shh,” she whispers, pressing a kiss on my lips. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Whenever you’ve thought your mark has burned, it was just your imagination. I’ve never cheated on you, Asher.”

“Okay,” I sigh, wiping my hand down my face. “I’m just still not super comfortable with you being alone with him all the time.”

“You can’t be so possessive and jealous,” Genevieve replies. “I understand that you’re insecure or think I’ll cheat on you because you’re not the mate I imagined for myself, but I’m not like that. I forgive you for your shortcomings and still take our mate bond seriously. I mean, I even put up with this kind of stuff.”

I frown, turning away as I shake my head.

I’m not just imagining things. My mark has burned. I can’t be making that up.

Right?

Why would my body do that? How could I be so wrong about a physical sensation? Hell, not even just a physical sensation, an emotional one. The little piece of me that breaks every time I feel her be with another man.

The pieces that break when she proves I can’t satisfy any of her needs or wants.

“How did the interrogation go, by the way?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, it was fine,” I reply, sighing. “I let her go after a few minutes. It was pretty clear she had no malicious intent.”

“Are you fucking serious!” Genevieve shrieks, causing me to turn around quickly.

I raise my hands in mock defense as her eyes rage orange. “Woah!”

“You let her go after a few minutes?” She cries, her chest heaving air. “Are you such a fucking wimp that you didn’t even give her a warning?”

“Gen, threatening one of our most powerful neighbors over something so petty isn-”

She reaches for a glass of water resting on the nightstand and chucks it at my head. I quickly dodge, and it shatters against the wall, one of the shards breaking off and cutting my forearm as I raise them to protect my face.

She reaches for the picture frame, and I scream, “Stop! Stop throwing things!”

“You’re going to cower away from me like you did with that disgusting demon!” She roars.

“Gen, just take a deep breath. This doesn’t have to be a fight!” I cry, my hands shaking, my chest heaving as my mind races.

I could overpower her. I could. I could throw her to the ground and choke her until she let go of the picture frame.

But I won’t. I never have, and I never will. That’s not who I am, even if it is who she is.

And what would that accomplish, anyway? More fighting? Charges against me for domestic battery?

Besides, I love her. She’s not always like this.

She grunts, slamming the frame onto the table, then storming out of the room with her fists clenched.

I let out a breath of air as I rake my hands through my hair, now damp from nervous sweat.

I’ll have to shower again.

I press my fingers to my cheeks and realize they’re wet with tears, my bottom lip trembling as I sit on the edge of my bed, my legs suddenly giving out from under me.

“What did I do wrong?” I whisper, pinching the bridge of my nose.

How can I make her happy? Why is nothing I do ever good enough? I don’t understand what she wants from me. What can I do to make it stop? All the fighting? The violence? The belittling?

I can’t take it anymore!

Maybe I should end it all here? That way, I’ll die an Alpha, and my parents will get some money from an inheritance. Genevieve might try to block it, but Margaery cares about me enough to convince her to give them something. At least then, I could be of some use to them.

Then Gen won’t have to put up with a mate she resents. A mate that will never be good enough or powerful enough for her.

My leg bounces up and down as I contemplate.

Am I too cowardly to do that? Gen thinks as much.

Wouldn’t this be a great way to stick it to her?

I close my eyes, picturing what the afterlife might look like.

Peaceful. Quiet.

Long blonde hair with plump red lips.

I bite my lip, my cheeks flushing as Rose’s face floods my imagination. She is a striking woman. And she smells lovely for a vampire, carrying a very floral scent.

She’s tall, too. Slender and powerful, her long, toned legs were on full display in the black miniskirt she was wearing. Her breasts were practically spilling out of the v-neck black top, too.

I lick my lips as I indulge myself, for once, thinking of those gorgeous waterfall eyes, blue as can be. Her white skin looked like porcelain, bringing out her dark lashes and the black line around her iris. It made her eyes pop.

Her hair is long, golden, and wavy. It goes down to just below her breasts and looks so silky. Like I’d be in Heaven on Earth running my fingers through it.

Rose Carver was an enchanting woman.

“Cato?” I whisper, stunned. “A-Are you talking to me?”

It’s been a while, Asher.

I smile, wiping my face with the comforter.

“Why are you talking now?”

Because Rose is a vampire, and we have a mate. You shouldn’t be having these improper thoughts about another woman.

“When you and I both know she’s been cheating constantly, no matter what excuses she gives?” I ask, gritting my teeth. “And what does it matter that Rose is a vampire?” I add, a low growl resonating in my throat. “You shouldn’t use that as an insult to an incredibly competent, strong leader.”

Cato is silent.

“Why’re you only speaking with me to defend the mate who is awful to us?” I hiss, my fists clenching. “Where is this advice when I need you?”

Nothing.

I sigh, glancing to the side.

I guess he is right. Just because my mate isn’t loyal to me doesn’t mean I should do the same.

But…

But Rose was kind. Complimentary. Funny. Charming.

I hear the wood creak, and I gasp, jumping out of my seat, my heart racing.

Is she back? Did she somehow read my thoughts? Is she going to throw something else at me? Something harder or sharper? What if she slaps me again? Do I have to sit and take it? Her nails are long, and they fucking hurt when she wants them to.

Nobody is there.

I sigh, resting my hands on my hips as I hang my head.

What is wrong with me?

I wish I could have been mates with a woman like Rose. Strong but fair. Competent but understanding.

Would a woman like Rose even want me, though?

And still, it’s wrong to think this way. I have a mate. A mate I care for. A mate who, despite all my shortcomings, has allowed me to be her Alpha. She brought me out of a horrible situation and has made my life better, so I owe her at least some grace. Especially when I’m such a shit leader and know nothing about politics. I’m still not entirely sure why she was angry with me about the interrogation, but I’m sure I’m missing something. Something I would understand if I wasn’t so inadequate.

Look at me now! I’m thinking about another woman after accusing my mate of cheating. What kind of man does that make me?

But…