Her Wild Wolf (Marked By The Moon Book 3) Read online

  MARKED BY THE MOON BOOK THREE

  KESTRA PINGREE

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 Kestra Pingree

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction.

  kestrapingree.com

  Summary

  Death is chasing her.

  Ava Black is a witch with immense power. The White Wolf is the only one who can stop her. According to her nightmares, he will kill her.

  Ava knows nothing of love and has done terrible things to shifters in order to please her keeper. When she’s sent to infiltrate a wolf pack, she is sure her time has come.

  She never imagined she would glimpse love or fall for the charms of the White Wolf.

  He’s borderline Berserker.

  Maxim Goulding got a rude awakening the night a white wolf ripped out of his body. He’s a wolf shifter, and he had no idea.

  He wants to get back to his human life, but his wolf is determined to tear him and everyone else apart—except for Ava. She’s enchanting, calming, and he’s hot for her.

  Things aren’t what they seem, but Max is sure of one thing. Ava is his.

  Fated Mates. Forever Love.

  How can love see them through?

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

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  Chapter 1

  EVER SINCE AVA BLACK could remember, she had dreams of dying by the White Wolf.

  Whether sleeping or waking, he was always waiting in the background to claim her life. The wolf’s features were distinct. She knew every detail of him by memory. She could trace out his shape, knew the exact length of his fur, the size of his monstrous paws, the gleam of his ivory teeth, and his orange sunset colored eyes. He never left her sight.

  At that moment, he stalked her in the background as he always did. The hunter hunting the hunter hunting the prey. Ava had her eyes set on the shadowy figures running through the miles of lush green in Florida. One figure was her keeper. The other was her prey. The White Wolf was no shadow. He was a ghost image, white and misty against a dark backdrop.

  All were real. A spirit or vision the White Wolf may have been, but he was real to Ava. He was more real.

  Flashes of purple lightning lit up the night as Ava’s keeper, Beatrice Black, shot Black Magic from her hands in calculated bursts. It was more for show than anything, a way to lead their prey, a rare and valuable wolf shifter, right into Ava’s arms. It wasn’t too often wolves went out on their own like this. It wasn’t in their natures, but it was good for the witches. Infiltrating a pack wasn’t easy.

  Ava watched the darkness closely. She had no better night vision than a typical human, but she kept careful track of Beatrice and the wolf prey each time Beatrice lit up the sky, a witch-induced lightning storm. She was careful to keep up with them, careful not to trip on the thick foliage underfoot. She had been doing this for years and was quite adept. Beatrice taught her how to be the apex predator. It had been years since they failed a hunt.

  It was time. Ava skidded to a stop as the last shot of purple lightning lit up the night. It was to Ava’s left—as was the wolf prey. The shadowy figure of a brown wolf leaped out from the trees, snarling and ready to tackle Ava to the ground. Ava stood strong even as the sunset eyes of the White Wolf watched her from afar. She held out her hand and black smoke oozed from it, catching the brown wolf mid-air and freezing her there before she could attack. The wolf howled in pain as the inky magic touched her fur, her flesh. It burned through and steam lifted from her body in an acidic and poisonous burn. The wolf’s cries may have unnerved some. They were loud and desperate cries of agony, cries someone would have heard if they weren’t out in the middle-of-nowhere forest. The sound used to bother Ava. Years and years ago. Now she felt nothing.

  But, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the White Wolf judging her. Always watching. Always accusing and reminding her that one day he’d kill her for her sins, for the wrongs she had committed against so many shifters perhaps. She didn’t know the reason, and she didn’t care. She didn’t know how to care about anything because she was a broken girl. She didn’t truly know what it meant to care. She only knew what she wanted.

  She wanted warmth.

  Her left inner thigh burned as the White Wolf’s eyes intensified into a neon orange that left streaks in the dark as he moved. In her dreams, the White Wolf always bit her. It was always in the same place too, where she could feel the phantom burning.

  She didn’t entirely understand what the vision meant, but she knew that one day she’d face the White Wolf. She was determined to change the outcome of that meeting. She was determined not to let him take her. With Beatrice by her side and as her guide, she could do anything.

  Behold my power. Ava met the White Wolf’s gaze, unflinching.

  Turning her attention back to her captured wolf, Ava commanded, “Submit.”

  She squeezed her right hand, the one exuding the dark energy, forcing the energy inward and concentrating it on the captured shifter. The she-wolf yelped and cried while Ava swept her left hand through the air, stealing the light from the shifter’s eyes. All fight fled the brown wolf’s body and a bundle of dancing lights like an aurora trickled out of her limp form and into Ava’s left palm. Ava curled her scabbed fingers into a cage and pulled her hand and the dancing lights to her chest. She pressed her palm flat against her heart and absorbed the lights, storing this shifter’s free will, her soul, inside of her body, her own soul.

  Her fingers were bleeding at the tips now, the places she always gnawed on in an anxiety triggered frenzy of nervousness. Using Black Magic like this always reopened those wounds, and they never healed.

  She slowly released the she-wolf’s body to the ground and held her hands to her chest, hissing at the pain in her fingers. She curled in on herself as she crouched low to the ground. The White Wolf watched her, his eyes boring into her and making it so she couldn’t breathe. She shook and the cold concentration she had was gone. She was anxiety haphazardly pieced together to create a human being, a witch.

  Focus. She needed to focus.

  Ava lifted her gaze to the she-wolf’s limp body. In a trembling voice, she ordered, “Shift.”

  The brown wolf rose to her paws. Her eyes were glazed over, but she was breathing and her heart was beating. Her body was functioning as it should, but Ava was now the one who commanded that body.

  The wolf’s yellow eyes were dull and no longer reflected the lights in the sky. Without question or hesitation, she began to shift as told. Ava flinched when a chorus of cracking bones filled the night air. Shifting always looked painful to her, a body being torn every which way so it could morph into something new.

  When the sounds stopped, a na
ked brunette with fair skin stood in front of Ava. Her eyes were brown and as vacant as the wolf’s, just as soulless as she stared at Ava, awaiting her next command.

  A content hum of an impromptu tune carried through the trees as the foliage underfoot rattled like maracas. Beatrice flitted out of the darkness with a pleased grin plastered on her face. Her hair was as dark as raven feathers; it was dyed that color because Beatrice didn’t like her blond tresses. Her skin was as pale as moonlight. She was plump and preferred to wear gothic dresses, but on nights like this, she wore a tight-fitting black suit for maximum maneuverability. She circled around the lifeless shifter while humming and twirling with wild abandon.

  “You did good work,” Beatrice said the words in a singsong fashion and continued humming.

  She pulled a light pack off her shoulders and revealed a t-shirt and jeans that she proceeded to dress the shifter woman in. It wasn’t easy to move shifters around naked, no matter how compliant they may have been. Nakedness drew eyeballs, something Beatrice and Ava Black didn’t need. Their work was for the shadows.

  “We’ve captured quite a variety in Florida. This wolf is a real treat. Collectors like their wolf shifters,” Beatrice commented as she continued to work, dressing the shifter woman like an oversized doll. “We’ll have plenty to sell to shifter collectors now. We’ll even be able to take a vacation because we’ll have so much fucking money.” She laughed a hardy belly laugh.

  Beatrice turned to Ava, still hunched over on the ground, when she finished making the shifter woman presentable. She tilted her head in question. “How are you holding up, my little weapon? You’re holding over a hundred souls now.”

  “I’m fine,” Ava replied as she stood on the forest floor and hid her ruined hands behind her black pants. “I can keep going.”

  Beatrice clasped her hands together and giggled. “You’re fantastic, my little weapon. Taking you in was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  “And I thank you to this day,” Ava replied with a dip of her head. Her short dark hair was just long enough to tease the edges of her eyes. Beatrice kept her hair short because she liked to keep Ava as low maintenance as possible. She would cut it again soon, maybe into a buzz cut like a boy. Ava was her weapon, not her doll. She didn’t have to be pretty, only functional.

  “If it wasn’t for you, I would still be alone on the streets,” Ava continued. “I would not know my own power. I would not have a use.”

  Beatrice came forward and kissed Ava’s forehead. “Right you are. I plucked you, a struggling rose, from the suffocating thorns and gave you purpose. As long as I am here to guide you, there is nothing you can’t do.”

  “Yes, my keeper.”

  Beatrice let out a little squeal as she hugged Ava tight, nearly squeezing the life out of her. Beatrice may have been short and plump, but she was physically strong compared to Ava. Ava was as skinny as a twig, though she stood a couple inches taller.

  Hesitantly, Ava wrapped her arms around Beatrice in return, pressing her tender fingers into her back. She savored that hug. All she had ever wanted was a place to belong and Beatrice gave her that. She praised and adored her. She took her in when no one else would. Ava was her weapon, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was wanted. For that gift alone, Ava vowed to keep Beatrice safe and to please her always.

  The soulless shifter woman stood behind Beatrice, staring vacantly at the two witches who now owned her. Beyond her stood the White Wolf, half hidden in the trees, but his wispy, ghost-like fur was not easily concealed in the dark. No. He wasn’t a creature of shadows. He didn’t hide. He always made sure Ava saw him.

  He watched her with blazing orange eyes. Sometimes she thought the looks he gave her were full of pity. Other times they felt accusing, fierce. He held his head high and perked up his ears inquisitively.

  Are you happy?

  She tried to ignore the phantom wolf’s question, but his eyes bored into her.

  Do you understand why Beatrice values you?

  Of course she did. Beatrice valued her power. Ava didn’t mind. She had no use for that power herself. She had no aspirations. She had no fantasies about being wealthy. She didn’t care about prestige. She didn’t want to further her powers or she would have sought out the Circle, the largest coven of witches, the most powerful, and the most dangerous. Beatrice avoided them and Ava followed her lead. Beatrice was everything. She was the one who took a chance. She was the one who gave Ava, a nearly snuffed out candle, a last flicker of life.

  All Ava ever needed was to be wanted. Beatrice filled that need. It didn’t matter who she hurt to make Beatrice want her. She’d do it for as long as she could—until the White Wolf finally stepped up to stop her. She looked him hard in the eye to get her point across. He could end this anytime. Her visions told her she stood no chance against him.

  The White Wolf straightened his stance, threw back his head, and howled at the moon, his Moon, his god. His howl was the whistle of the wind. It stopped when he turned his tail to her. He looked back at her once and blinked his neon eyes to let her know he would see her again tonight. Then he was gone.

  Beatrice placed her hands on Ava’s shoulders and pushed her away from her. She placed her palm on Ava’s forehead as if to check for a fever. “If you’re feeling sick, you’ll let me know,” she told her sternly.

  “Yes,” Ava replied with a slight nod of her head.

  Sighing, Beatrice began walking in the direction they had left their windowless van. It was holding the other shifters they caught in this area. Ava told their newest catch to follow—which she did like a good puppet. It was a smooth exchange they had done a million times, and in no time, they were packed up inside of the vehicle, shifters in the back packed like unseen cargo, with Ava and Beatrice in the front, Beatrice at the wheel. Beatrice was about to start the engine so they could move on when her cell rang.

  Beatrice puffed out an annoyed breath of air and looked at the caller ID. Ava glanced as well and saw the name, Erin Smith. She was one of their regular clients.

  “Hello, Erin,” Beatrice answered the phone, her tone as smooth as honey. She knew how to mask her irritation well.

  “Beatrice, I need you to tame a new shifter I captured. He’s the wolf I’ve been looking for.”

  “I keep telling you you’re at your limit,” Beatrice warned. “You won’t be able to handle more than twenty shifters. You have a strong will and a high soul capacity for a human, but you’re still only that, human.”

  “I just need this last one. Number twenty-one,” Erin whined. “Derek is so goddamn sexy. I’ll die if I can’t have him.” She whimpered on the line and whispered, “Fuck. Make it happen. I’ll pay you well. You know I have the money.”

  Money was the reason why Beatrice made sure to stay in Erin’s good graces. It was her stubbornness and Ava’s thorough work that allowed her to handle so many shifters, but Ava was sure she’d break soon. It would become too much for her.

  Beatrice asked, “Where are you?”

  “Idaho. I’m at a lovely resort called June Hot Springs.”

  “I won’t be able to make it for a while. I’m in the middle of obtaining and transferring new products.”

  Beatrice wanted to move all the shifters they had collected in Florida back to their biggest and most secure safe house in Texas. It was where they touched base after hunting before taking care of a client. It was where they kept their shifters. They couldn’t drag a hoard of shifters along with them everywhere they went. Everything they did had to be discreet, or they would get shut down.

  “Fine,” Erin said with a huff. “If I travel somewhere else will you be able to do this faster?”

  “Perhaps. I need a little time to sort through everything. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” Beatrice replied as she examined her glossy black nails.

  “Good. I don’t like waiting. I’ll see you soon, Beatrice.”

  The line went dead, and Ava stopped straining to he
ar Erin’s words. She couldn’t help her curiosity, though it wouldn’t have mattered if she heard the conversation or not. Beatrice always told her what she needed to know.

  “What’s the plan?” Ava asked in barely a whisper.

  “We’re going to hunt around here for a while longer to fill up the van,” Beatrice replied. “Then we’ll head back to Texas. All you need to do is what you’ve been doing. Don’t worry about anything else, my little weapon.” She pinched Ava’s cheek with affection.

  Ava didn’t rub away the sting. She would probably get a bruise she’d need to cover up with makeup, though. That was the one way she knew how to use makeup so she wouldn’t draw attention. She was a fragile thing.

  Beatrice started the engine, drove out of the forest, and back onto an asphalt road. Ava withdrew inside of herself, blocking out the rest of the world. That was her habit. All she saw right now was her hands in her lap. Her skin was a medium shade of brown, almost gold-like in its warm undertone. It was lighter on her palms and the pads of her fingers. The tips of her fingers were scabs of crystallized crimson blood. Her thinking mind receded into darkness and she dug at the scabs, making them bleed anew like they had only a short time before. This was why she never healed. It didn’t matter if Black Magic reopened the wounds or not because she always did it intentionally without fail.

  She couldn’t explain why she did this. She just did. It was a tick, a nervous habit, self-loathing.

  Beatrice never stopped her because it didn’t hinder her work. It was of little consequence. They were small and negligible wounds. Ava relished the loss of thought and the dull, faraway pain. That pain was the one thing keeping her grounded in reality. That, and the distant thought of The White Wolf waiting in her dreams.

  The eerie blue of the forest was because of more than Moonlight. The overwhelming majority of trees that covered it were blue spruces. The tint of green was still there, but the underlying color was blue. All blue. And dark. Until the White Wolf appeared.