Chasing The Moon: Lunar Mates, #3

By Loribelle Hunt

Jackson has problems. His most trusted friends are gone, his Beta is convinced another werewolf stole his mate, someone in his pack is trying to steal his job, and his woman is on the run. When everything comes to a head at once, the situation quickly escalates to deadly levels.

Summer Lambert, the last single hold out of the witch cousins, has a relaxing and solitary two-week mountain vacation planned. She is outraged to learn the whole trip was a ruse by Jackson to get her to his home. Once there, she is trapped and finds herself increasingly drawn into his world.

As the sparks fly between Jackson and Summer, his enemies move into position. Will he be able to outmaneuver them before it's too late?

This book has been revised and expanded.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Loribelle Hunt
• Release date: Oct 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533768346

Loribelle Hunt

Loribelle is like the South she calls home. Hot and sultry. Languid and sexy. Magnolias and gardenias scent her silk lined boudoir, and men and children alike bow to her magnificence... Okay, maybe it isn’t quite that glamorous. She does have two smart and lovely daughters who give her a run for her money and a son that will one day be someone’s model of a romance hero. (She promises.) Her husband is a real life hero, and Loribelle just tries to keep up with the demands of military life. In between, she writes a book or two. She’s had every job under the sun, but haven’t most writers? That Army military police, bookstore manager, waitress, wedding photographer, website designer experience has to come in useful sometimes. As they say in the South, it all washes out in the end. She loves hearing from her readers and can be found at http://www.loribellehunt.com.

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Copyright

Chasing The Moon

Copyright © 2016 Loribelle Hunt

First E-book Published: October 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, organizations, events, or locations is coincidental.

Published by Loribelle Hunt

www.loribellehunt.com

Author's Note

Welcome to Lunar Mates! The Lunar Mates series was begun in 2006 and to celebrate its ten year anniversary each book is being revised and updated. Chasing The Moon, book three in the series, was first published at 26,000 words. It has been expanded to 33,000 words. Over the next few months I will be releasing new editions of the other books in the series. Next up are Call Of The Moon and Christmas Moon in October 2016. If you'd like to be notified of new releases join my mailing list or my Facebook Reader Group for updates.

Copyright

Author's Note

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Epilogue

More From Loribelle Hunt

Call Of The Moon: Lunar Mates 4 (excerpt)

Prologue

Jackson was the last alpha to leave the community hall where his life had just been changed. He walked out into a night that was both heaven and hell. His little slice of heaven—control over the Appalachian pack he’d been born into—paled in comparison to his hell—the loss of not one, but all three of his best friends.

Because the old alpha, Brant, died without a successor, the council of North American alphas had been forced to name a new one. It had come down between him and Darius, and Darius lost. Jackson wasn’t stupid enough to think Darius could stay, but he’d hoped Trey or Eric would. He knew that wasn’t going to happen, and he wouldn’t be able to change either man's mind.

He paused before joining the small circle of men waiting for him in the courtyard. His best candidates for beta and enforcer were leaving in a few days, and he’d have to pick another set quickly. He didn’t want to be the sort of alpha Brant had been, autocratic, controlling, and mired in the past, but it was a werewolf pack. Speed and decisiveness were imperative if he wanted to secure his place. He would attempt to exert his control more subtly than Brant, but it was still control.

Despite that knowledge, he couldn’t deal with it now. It was late, he was angry, and he wasn’t making any appointments outside in the dark. Thankfully, deciding how to deal with the situation was taken out of his hands when Trey stepped out of the shadows and spoke to the group.

I think pack business can be dealt with at a more civilized hour. Tomorrow. Most wouldn’t need any more of an invitation to scatter. Trey scared the daylights out of almost everyone, and Jackson would seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who challenged him.

And you’re not in charge here, hunter, a snide voice said through the gloom.

Wyatt. Jackson identified him easily. He wasn’t insane, just an idiot, but he was likely to be trouble. A handful of the others stirred, their nerves a sour wash against his senses. They watched, waiting to see how Jackson would react to Wyatt’s assertiveness. Waiting to see if Trey would strike out against the weaker man.

"The council made it clear who is in charge here though and I don’t see him asking for a midnight meeting, do you?" Trey countered calm as ever.

Wyatt took an aggressive step forward, puffed up like a damned peacock. Dumbass. Trey could take him apart without breaking a sweat and probably not even bother to shift.

You don’t want to go there, Wyatt, Trey drawled in a soft, almost gentle voice, but you'd have to be deaf not to hear the warning. He looked around and met each person’s gaze one by one. Go home now.

Most left. A few waited to leave until Jackson nodded his assent. He’d have to watch them. The ones who waited for direction from their alpha instead of obeying their instincts to flee from a dangerous animal. He’d be able to use them to strengthen his control over the pack. Wyatt was the last to slink off, though not out of deference to pack leadership. His objections to both Darius and Jackson were well known.

He waited until Wyatt was out of sight, then turned, Trey at his side, and followed the path that led to the alpha's house, now his house. They entered the back door into the kitchen. A small light above the stove lit the room, giving off a dim glow but he didn’t bother to reach over and flick on the overhead light. It was more than ample illumination for two werewolves. He walked to the refrigerator and opened the door.

Beer?

I think I will, Trey answered.

They sat across from each other at the large table and the silence stretched. He stared out the windows, occasionally tipping the bottle back. How many nights had he enjoyed a quiet night and the local brew with his friends? How many would pass before he could do it again?

Any chance I can talk you into staying?

Trey snorted. You know I don’t belong here.

That was probably true. Trey was more private, more aloof than most werewolves. It was hard to find seclusion in a pack that numbered over three hundred strong.

Don’t ask Eric either. You know Darius is going to need all the help he can get.

Anger hardened Jackson’s jaw. Like he didn’t need help? Darius was taking the best talent with him.

That leaves me with a fucking mess. A growl rumbled in his chest before he got control of his temper. Trey didn’t even blink. I have no beta, no enforcer, and no one who stands out in the crowd, either.

Trey stood and got a couple more beers from the fridge. When he returned to the table, he flipped the chair around and rested his arms across the back.

There were a few in that gaggle tonight who didn’t run when I showed up, he said sarcastically, saluting Jackson with his beer before taking a long swallow.

Instead of the mocking answer that hovered on his lips, Jackson shut up and hoped Trey would continue. Like any true alpha, he wouldn’t take orders from anyone else, but Trey saw things in people no one else did. He had a gift for seeing strengths and weaknesses and motivation.

Take Billy Cagle for instance. Young guy. Remember how scrawny he was as a kid?

Yeah. Billy was the youngest in the crowd that had been waiting for him, twenty-seven if he remembered right.

Smart kid, Trey continued. Tough as nails.

Surely you aren’t suggesting I use him as an enforcer. Jackson laughed his disbelief. Billy probably was hard enough for the job. It had been years since he’d seen the kid lose a fight, but he was young and untried, and frankly too good with people.

Trey grinned. No. I’m enforcer material.

He didn’t go on and Jackson sat back. He could follow Trey’s thinking without further input, however. Beta? No. It wouldn’t work. He shook his head. He’s too young to be beta.

Trey shrugged. Your decision, of course. He’s smart. He’s loyal. People like him. No one wants to fight him. He paused. And he’s been working with Eric since he was a teenager.

Eric was the perfect beta and had all the qualities Trey attributed to Billy Cagle. The pack had known for years that Eric would end up beta. The question had always been who would be alpha, and if Eric would stay with the pack. Since Eric had spent a lot of time with Billy, Jackson had to assume he'd meant the younger werewolf to take his place. There was a time—yesterday in fact—he would have just picked up the phone and called Eric to ask his opinion. That was out of the question now, though. It was a matter of pride. He scowled. Wouldn’t hurt anything to ask Trey, though, would it?

What’s Eric’s opinion of him?

Trey rolled his eyes. Never a bad word.

Huh. Eric didn’t put up with shit from anyone. If the kid worked well for Eric, that was good enough for him. He hoped. He should probably start with stopping considering him a kid. Anyone else stand out in that crowd? he asked dryly.

Trey took another swallow of beer. If I had to pick an enforcer, it would be Clint Osborn until one of the Williamson twins retires from the hunters.

Why?

While Trey answered, Jackson tried to memorize everything he heard. He figured this was his last excellent counsel for a good long time.

One

Summer found a small empty table in a back shadow of the reception hall and slipped her shoes off. She hated wearing heels, but it was kind of hard to avoid at her cousins’ double wedding. Seriously, who still did double weddings? At least she only had to do it once. She wasn’t thrilled to be in Haven anyway, so the shoes just irritated her.

She was happy for Meg and Tara, and normally she wouldn’t have any reservations about attending a werewolf wedding, which was basically just an excuse to make a mating legal in mainstream human society. She had a lot of friends in werewolf packs, had for years, and she was a member of the Panhandle pack, though no one here knew that including her cousins. She'd hoped to keep them out of that world. Too late now.

The Haven pack was new and there weren’t a lot of them.  Six months ago the alpha of the Appalachian pack had died without leaving a clear heir. As a result the other alphas across the country had to choose between the two strongest wolves in that pack. One had been given the pack. The other given the chance of starting new in what were abandoned lands. Here. She'd spent her teenage years in Haven, and the locals considered her one of theirs but to