Blood on the Moon

Rose

I bite my lip, my chin resting on my palm as I gaze at a picture on the back wall of Victor and I’s office. It’s a replica of The Kiss, or Der Kuss in German, by Klimt. I’m not sure where the real thing is since art gets moved around a lot these days; the idea is we shouldn’t have to have money to travel to see these beautiful works. So most of the major art museums around the globe work collaboratively to rotate what pieces are where.

It’s a nice thought, actually. I visit the Mile High Gallery every three months for that reason. Bernini’s work was the attraction last time I visited, and, my, I was impressed. The Rape of Proserpina? Tragic subject matter but a masterpiece. Hard to believe such wonders were created so long ago.

The Kiss is one of my favorites, though not just because of the colors and how it brightens up the room when the shades are drawn.

But her rosy cheeks and blissful, almost erotic expression, along with the way he’s not just cupping her face but seemingly grabbing it. Like they’re desperate for each other.

It’s a gripping display of desire during a time when any expression of sexuality was taboo. The painting was called pornographic at the time, which seems ludicrous now, given the kind of pornographic material today’s society produces.

I’ve always wondered what it might be like to be engulfed in desire and love for a man. And have him feel the same about me. Gripping my face, not just caressing it sweetly. A man who wants me but also needs me. Craves me.

I lick my lips, letting out a longing sigh, my cheek slumping on my palm now as I tilt my head.

There’s something extra enticing about a taboo love, which this kind of passion would have been at the time of the painting. There’s something so romantic about forbidden love, hence why so many authors write stories about it. Romeo and Juliet, The Song of Achilles, and The Sun Also Rises, to name a few.

Maybe the tale of a mated Alpha and a super-sexy vampire who fall in love could be added to the list? Might they call it Blood on the Moon?

“You’ve been staring at that painting for the last fifteen minutes,” Victor chuckles, snapping me out of my trance. I blink my eyes a few times as I lift my head, my brain in a fog as I struggle to remember what I had been doing before I got lost in my train of thought.

“What’re you up in the clouds about?” He asks.

I glance at him as he eyes me slyly, a small smile on his face. I blush, shaking my head as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Or is it a who?”

I grunt, rolling my eyes as I lean back in my seat.

“I was just thinking about what happened yesterday,” I reply casually. “Mulling over why Genevieve didn’t speak with me.”

“So you were staring at that painting?” Victor asks, scoffing. “Thinking about kissing her? Some enemies-to-lovers romance?”

I grab an eraser off my desk and throw it at him playfully as he lets out a belly laugh.

“You know I have far better taste than that!” I retort. “Besides, she’s accounted for.”

“Well, if you’re truly concerned about speaking with her, maybe we can invite her and the Alpha onto our territory for a meeting?”

My ears perk up.

I could see Asher again.

I hide my excitement and reply tentatively, “Are you sure she wouldn’t view that as an insult?”

“I don’t see why she would,” he answers with a shrug. “I can send her team an email today. Say that we’re looking to sustain the positive relationship between our factions that the previous leaders left us. Make it sound like nothing is wrong with it so she doesn’t get paranoid, but also imply that we need to meet or things might change.”

“Keep it subtle,” I instruct. “And request both her and her mate’s attendance.”

I only really care about the latter, though. I’d almost prefer if he came alone, no matter how bad of a sign that’d be if Genevieve refused to come.

“Should I ask for the sister’s presence as well?” Victor asks. “If what you said is right, she’s serving as her unofficial Beta. It would be customary for the Luna and Alpha to bring their second to important meetings.”

I shake my head, my mind focusing on business rather than pleasure. “No, don’t mention Margaery. It’ll be interesting to see if she elects to bring her on her own. Could give us an insight into whether the Black Opal Pack has a normal pack hierarchy or if they’re operating under a dictatorship.”

“Do you suspect as much?” Victor asks, raising his brows.

I lick my lips, shrugging, despite the fact I’m almost one hundred percent certain that is the case. But it’ll be good to have confirmation.

“Alright, well, I’ll draft that email now,” Victor informs.

“Thanks,” I reply with a smile as I lift my hand. “Can I have my eraser back?”

He throws his head back, laughing as he bends to pick it up off the ground. “I don’t provide arms to terrorists.”

I giggle. “Fair enough.”

Asher

“Hey, Ash-Man.”

I chuckle, my lips immediately spreading into a smile.

“Salutations, Margarita,” I answer as I lift my head and see her pressing the door to my office, a repurposed closet, closed behind her.

“What’re you working on?” She asks, wiping the sweat off her brow. “Goddess, Gen still hasn’t given you a fan to put in here?”

I roll my eyes, choosing not to respond to the last part. “Gen asked me to look over all the Lupanian national legal code for inter-species relations.”

“She couldn’t ask one of her legal advisors to do that?” Margaery asks, wincing. “Seems a little mind-numbing for someone with no legal training.”

“It feels like she’s setting me up to fail,” I answer, fanning my hot face as I lean back in the splintering wooden chair.

At least I have a semi-decent black desk, albeit it only has a tiny drawer on top, so I can’t keep many things inside it.

The entire space is an old cleaning supply closet in the pack house, so I had to remove all the wire racks myself to make more room for supplies. I lugged in an old file cabinet, where I keep most of my limited supplies since the desk doesn’t have much space.

The carpet is decades old; it’s one of the only rooms with no A/C, the door doesn’t lock, and the walls are so thin I can hear anything and everything happening in the hallway.

And there are no windows, and the only light in a dingy-ass bulb on the top of the ceiling that does fuck-all. I brought in a desk lamp, which makes things a little easier, but still.

The Alpha shouldn’t be working in a shoebox while the Luna gets half a floor dedicated to her office that’s also a home gym, where she has Carter train her privately, with a conveniently located sectional perfect for napping and other horizontal activities.

“I could take a second look at it when you’re done?” She offers, sitting criss-cross on the floor, grimacing slightly. “Is there anything in particular she’s asking you to look for?”

“She wants me to find potential loopholes,” I reply with a sarcastically optimistic inflection. “Likely cause she’s still pissed at Rose.”

“Rose?”

I cough, clearing my throat. “Sorry, the Crimson Night Clan. Rose is their leader, who was here two days ago for interrogation.”

“Ahh, yes, I met her.”

“You did?” I ask, furrowing my brows. “I didn’t realize Gen also asked you to interrogate her. Fuck, she doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me? I don’t know wh-”

Margaery raises her hand to stop me. “Gen doesn’t know I met with her, and she didn’t ask me to. I’d rather that stay between us.”

“Oh.” I purse my lips, glancing at the door, my heart thumping.

She stands, grabs the book of legal code off my desk, and says, “I’ll give this a second look and let her know that you’re right and there are no legal loopholes available.”

I nod as she closes the book, tucking it under her arm.

“I found nothing,” I affirm.

She smiles warmly. “It’s good to know someone else in charge is looking out for the welfare of the pack.”

“Aww, shucks,” I reply affectionately.

Margaery has become like a surrogate little sister to me. I have my two younger sisters, Marabelle and Cassiopeia, but I rarely see them. Margaery fills that hole in my heart, plus a bit of the hole Gen has left.

She’s kind to me. Believes in me.

I don’t wish she were my mate because I feel a familial connection with her as strong as I feel it with my own family, so even the thought of a romantic relationship with her makes me want to vomit. We love each other, but not like that.

I do believe she loves me more than Gen does, though. Which is as depressing a thought as a thought can be.

She reaches for the handle and says, “I’ll see you later, Ash-Man.”

“Later, Margarita,” I answer as she opens the door, revealing Genevieve in the doorway, her arm poised to knock.

“Oh,” Gen says, narrowing her eyes at Margaery. “You’re here.”

“I’m just having her take a second glance at the legal code,” I reply quickly as I sit up in my seat, leaning forward.

Genevieve smiles. “Good. I was going to ask her to double-check it anyway since I’m about as confident in your ability as you are, it seems.” She giggles as she wraps her arm around Margaery’s shoulders. “You both are working with half a brain, so maybe something good will happen when you put them together?”

I fight back a frown as Margaery opens her mouth to speak, a flicker of her wolf’s bubblegum eyes emerging in her green irises, but it’s gone almost as soon as it came.

Don’t I know that feeling. Except, you didn’t even try to defend me, did you, Cato?

Silence.

“I’ll let you know what I find by tomorrow night, Gen,” Margaery answers as she exits the room quickly, keeping her head down.

Gen turns to face me and asks sarcastically, “Was it something I said?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I swear, that little bitch is lucky I even let her play dress-up as my advisor. Flashing her wolf at me, her Luna!”

So she saw it too.

“She’s just stressed,” I reply softly, hoping to diffuse her anger. The last thing I want is for her to lash out at Margaery. That’s more painful than when she does it to me.

I remember Margaery running into this office only two months ago, her lip swollen, sobbing. I held her until she calmed down, anger seething through me that I never feel for myself.

That was the closest I ever got to rejecting Genevieve as my mate.

But then -

“Listen, Ashy,” she says as she runs her hand through her hair. “I-I’m really sorry about the other night. Throwing that glass at you.”

She walks around the desk, lifting my arm gently to examine my forearm, the cut from the shard of glass only a thin scab now.

She presses a light kiss over the wound as she runs her thumb across my cheek, my body erupting into butterflies.

“I love you, Asher. I just get so frustrated sometimes and can’t control it,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Of course,” I whisper as she straddles my waist, looping her arms around my neck, my breath quivering.

“I have two things in mind,” she says, leaning in and dragging my bottom lip between her teeth gently.

Cato revels in the contact, purring like a cat. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Well, I’m going to ride you like the bucking-bronco you are!” She says with a giggle, poking her tongue out from between her teeth.

I throw my head back, laughing, a blush rising on my cheeks as I shake my head.

This is why I fell in love with her. Her silly side. The side that can be so affectionate, the way she was the first three months of our relationship. It was wild and passionate, having sex every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Going on fun dates where she’d be so complimentary. Talking about kids, a future.

But…

“And,” she says, raking her fingers through my hair. “I’ve got an important task for you tomorrow night.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my eyes hooded and the brain in my pants taking over what’s in my head.

“You’ll serve as our pack ambassador for peace talks with the Crimson Night Clan. Private meeting with Rose Carver and her second in command, I think,” she says, wrapping her hand around my neck lightly. “And you’re going to show them who’s boss.”