His Moonsilver Mate

Abby

“Stay down. Look at me, Abby—look at my eyes.”

Blood streaked Mom’s jaw, coating the hand that gripped mine as she shoved me toward the narrow opening beneath the floor.

“Promise me. You don’t open this for anyone until someone you know calls your name first. Promise me, Abigail.”

“I promise.”

The board closed over my head, plunging me into darkness and the sharp smell of damp pine. Something crashed above me. A snarl rattled the floorboards so close that the sound seemed to crawl into my chest.

Then came a scream.

“Take the girls alive!”

A heavy thud shook dust into my hair. I pressed both fists against my mouth because Mom had made me promise.

Don’t open it. Wait for a voice.

The silence after stretched on forever. Then, wood scraped overhead, and light sliced into the dark.

“Abby?”

The voice was rough and out of breath, but I knew it instantly.

Kade.

His face appeared above me, smeared with ash and blood, and then his arms were around me, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. He was trembling violently. When I tried to look over his shoulder, his hand shoved my face into his neck.

“Don’t look,” he choked out. “I’ve got you, Abby.”

Something warm slid down my cheek.

My eyes snapped open.

For a disoriented second, I was still ten years old under the floorboards. Then the tear tracked into my ear, and my bedroom came into focus.

Pale dawn seeped around the edges of the curtains. The sheets were tangled around my legs, my shirt damp with sweat. I pushed myself upright, wiped my face, and glanced at the nightstand.

5:58 AM.

Two minutes before it was supposed to go off.

Eighteen hours before I turned eighteen—and finally met my wolf.

The house was silent. Liam had stumbled in past midnight after three nights on border patrol, and he needed the sleep. I really didn’t need him finding me crying today of all days. I threw on clothes, pulled my hair into a hurried ponytail, grabbed my backpack, and slipped downstairs, easing the back door shut behind me.

Moonhaven was only beginning to wake. Two warriors from the night shift crossed the street ahead of me, both looking dead on their feet, one with a freshly bandaged forearm. Rogue sightings had spiked over the last few months. It was partly why I spent every spare hour at the pack clinic; if I couldn’t patrol with Liam yet, I could at least be useful when someone came back bleeding.

I slowed by the town square. Lanterns and white flowers surrounded the memorial stone. Eight years ago, Moonhaven had lost dozens of wolves in the attack—Mom and Dad among them, along with Kade’s father, Alpha Marcus.

I used to avoid looking at their names. Today, I just remembered Dad making Mom laugh, his fingers threading through hers whenever they walked together. They had been fated mates. Maybe that was why some foolish, stubborn part of me still believed the Moon Goddess might give me the same.

The clinic lights glowed at the far edge of the square. I was halfway up the steps when the front door swung open, and one of the night-shift nurses hurried outside.

“Abby!”

“What happened?” I asked, quickening my pace.

“Patrol came in ten minutes ago,” she said, already pulling me inside. “Daphne needs another pair of hands.”

Inside, the chief healer, Daphne, glanced up from the wolf stretched across the treatment table. “Perfect timing. Pressure on that shoulder. Don’t let up.”

The warrior was barely conscious, deep claw marks cutting across his left shoulder down into his ribs. I hesitated for half a second, then pulled on a pair of gloves and leaned my weight into the wound.

The next few hours vanished into gauze, antiseptic, and Daphne calling for whatever she needed next. When she finally told me to go home, afternoon had already begun sliding toward evening.

Liam was waiting at the bottom of the clinic steps, arms folded. He took one look at my dark circles, exhaled, and held out his hand.

“Backpack.”

“Hello to you too.” I gave him a look. “I can carry it.”

“Sure you can.” He hooked the strap off my shoulder and slung it over his own.

“I’m turning eighteen tomorrow, you know,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

Liam laughed, looping an arm around my shoulders and planting a kiss on top of my head. “Still my baby sister.”

I bumped my shoulder against his. “Hate you.”

“Love you too.” He winked. “Come on. Let’s feed you.”

I rolled my eyes, but let him keep his arm around me as we headed home.

Liam had been barely eighteen when our parents died—too young to be both Beta and guardian to a ten-year-old, but somehow he had managed both.

By the time we reached the house, warm light spilled from the kitchen windows. I heard Sloane laughing before Liam even opened the door.

Of course they were already here.

She and Kade had been friends with Liam since before I could remember, so finding them in our kitchen was nothing unusual, even now that Kade was Alpha and Liam his Beta.

Kade stood by the counter with a beer, sleeves pushed up on a charcoal Henley to reveal the black ink winding up his forearms—something I had gotten very good at pretending not to notice. Sloane perched on the countertop beside him in a soft knit sweater, one leg swinging idly, looking effortlessly polished with her dark honey-blonde hair falling loose over one shoulder. Kade’s hand rested casually on her knee.

I looked away before either of them caught me staring.

“There she is.” Sloane smiled as the door clicked shut. “Moonhaven’s almost-adult.”

“Almost?” I dropped my jacket over the back of a chair.

Kade smiled over the rim of his bottle. “Long day?”

“Busy.”

“Sit down before Liam starts force-feeding you.”

Liam dropped my backpack by the stairs and pointed at them both. “Since you two are treating my kitchen like a lounge, set the table.”

Sloane hopped off the counter with a laugh and reached for the plates. Kade stepped back to give her room, his hand brushing the small of her back as she passed. Everyone knew they were more than friends. They had been on and off for a while, and most of the pack already assumed Sloane would eventually become Kade’s Luna.

I certainly wasn’t going to ask.

At the table, Liam dumped a mountain of roast chicken in front of me.

“Seriously?”

“You skipped breakfast,” he said flatly.

Sloane propped her chin on her hand, grinning. “Leave her alone, Liam. Tomorrow’s the big day. Our baby Abby is finally entering the mating pool.”

I nearly dropped my fork. “I’m not—”

“Oh, please. You’ve been obsessing over fated mates since you were little. Maybe your Prince Charming will show up tomorrow and sweep you off your feet.”

“Nobody is sweeping her anywhere,” Liam muttered around a bite of food.

Kade chuckled, his arm settling over the back of Sloane’s chair. “You were just as dramatic before your eighteenth, Sloane.”

“Worse,” Liam said, and Sloane swatted his arm, laughing.

“Maybe you’ll be luckier than the rest of us,” Kade said, his smile fading slightly.

They had all shifted years ago, and none of them had found their fated mates yet. I couldn’t imagine waiting that long.

Sloane shifted closer and laced her fingers through Kade’s on the table.

My stomach gave an annoying little twist.

She had known about my pathetic crush on Kade since I was fifteen, when she caught me staring at him during training. She’d teased me about it for weeks, but kept it from Liam and Kade. Back then, it had been funny. Then she and Kade started seeing each other, and it became harder to laugh.

The crush should have disappeared years ago. Kade was my Alpha, Liam’s best friend, and the boy who had spent most of my life treating me like a little sister. Still, sometimes I caught myself wondering what it would feel like if he looked at me the way he looked at Sloane.

Or touched me.

Or kissed me.

I reached for my water and took a long drink before my face could give me away.

After dinner, Kade and Sloane headed out, their voices carrying down the driveway. Liam and I watched a movie, though neither of us really paid attention to it, and by eleven I gave up and went upstairs.

Sleep was impossible. Excitement buzzed beneath my skin.

Tomorrow I would meet my wolf. And maybe, somewhere out there, my mate was waiting too. Someone who would look at me the way Dad had always looked at Mom.

I turned onto my side and watched the glowing numbers on the clock beside my pillow.

11:59.

My pulse spiked.

Then the numbers changed.

12:00.

I held my breath.

Nothing happened. Just the quiet house and the wind outside.

I exhaled, feeling stupid.

Then a soft female voice whispered inside my mind.

Hello, Abby.