Kindling Flames: Blazing Moon (The Ancient Fire Series Book 6)

  Kindling Flames

  Blazing Moon

  Julie Wetzel

  Crimson Tree Publishing

  ***

  When Phelan, Rupert's second, becomes the latest wolf to lose control over a simple dispute, Rupert is left with no choice than to seek outside help. With Master Darien on his honeymoon, he turns to his next best choice—Elliot.

  ***

  Kindling Flames Series

  BOOK #1: Kindling Flames: Gathering Tinder

  BOOK #2: Kindling Flames: Flying Sparks

  BOOK #3: Kindling Flames: Smoke Rising

  BOOK #4: Kindling Flames: Stolen Fire

  BOOK #5: Kindling Flames: Burning Nights

  BOOK #6: Kindling Flames: Blazing Moon

  Novella: Kindling Flames: Granting Wishes

  THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Kindling Flames: Blazing Moon

  Copyright ©2016 Julie Wetzel

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:978-1-63422-225-9

  Cover Design by: Marya Heiman

  Typography by: Courtney Knight

  Editing by: Cynthia Shepp

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  The night wind was brisk as it raced across the darkened park. Phelan ignored the chill in the air as he and Rupert moved down the smooth path. The temperature was pleasantly mild for this time of the year, but that was the least of their worries at the moment. He glanced at the silent man walking next to him. “Talk to me,” Phelan said, pushing his alpha into the conversation they’d come out here to have. It was best to discuss pack problems on the move in a location where the others weren’t likely to overhear.

  Rupert let out a heavy sigh, but he didn’t say anything as they walked on. After a few more minutes, the stoic man finally broke the heavy silence between them. “The pack is out of control.”

  The soft sound of desperation in Rupert’s voice made Phelan’s heart clench. “I know,” he replied, feeling just as desperate and helpless. His mind pulled up the scene he’d interrupted at Darien’s wedding reception. Jakob had done an excellent job of keeping the two wolves from tearing each other apart until Phelan could get there, but there was really no reason they should have been fighting in the first place. There were no assigned table seats, and there were plenty of chairs to go around. It was just one of the many pointless arguments in the last few months. “What are we going to do about it?”

  There was another long moment of silence before Rupert exhaled in resignation. “I don’t know,” he admitted, pulling his coat tighter around him. “There’s no reason for this unrest.”

  Phelan nodded in agreement. He’d been there to help stop many of the fights, but he still didn’t understand how most of them started. Once the combatants calmed down, they gave some very stupid reasons for getting angry. “Maybe the stress of dealing with Eckert’s pack is riling them up?” he suggested.

  Rupert shook his head. “I’m sure that isn’t helping, but that can’t be everything. We’ve dealt with invasions before, but it’s never caused this level of animosity within the pack. We’ve always banded together to protect what is ours, even when Thomas nearly got us destroyed.”

  Again, Phelan nodded, remembering the man and the actions that sparked the war with the vampires. It was the one time he could remember the pack divided over anything. Rupert had dealt with the insurgency with a swift and deadly force that fortified his position as alpha. The fact the decisive man was admitting there was a problem he didn’t know how to fix worried Phelan. “So what do we do?”

  Turning his eyes to the darkness further down the path, Rupert pondered the question as he walked. “I’m not sure. I know you’ve talked with the wolves who have lost control.” He turned his head to look at his second as he walked. “Have you discovered anything odd that could be causing their behavior?”

  Phelan drew in a deep breath as his mind raced over the conversations he’d held with the miscreants after each of the incidents. “Not that I’ve been able to work out. But there are the ones still locked up in the basement.”

  A worried noise rumbled from Rupert’s chest. “And that’s another problem to deal with.” He walked on for a few more steps, contemplating the situation. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Six concrete and iron cages stood in Rupert’s basement ready to hold freshly turned werewolves as they learned about their new lives. It was a precaution that all packs took to ensure their people were under control, but it was rare that more than one cage was used at a time.

  “Neither have I,” Phelan said, thinking of the five wolves locked in those cages. All of them had completely lost it. Phelan and Rupert had managed to get them to safety before anyone got hurt, but they still hadn’t found a way to calm them so they could regain their humanity. Even Rupert’s control over his people hadn’t been enough to force them to change back to their less-dangerous forms. “Do you think we should ask Darien for help?”

  “No,” Rupert said without pausing to consider the idea. “I don’t want the vampires in on this.”

  “I’m not talking about the vampires,” Phelan explained. “I’m talking about Master Darien.”

  “This is none of his concern.”

  “But it is,” Phelan pressed. “He made it his concern when he gave Sue his protection.”

  Rupert shot his second a hard glare. “He made the conflict with Eckert’s pack his business when he took in Sue. This is different.”

  “It’s not.” Phelan growled as his irritation with the stubborn man began to rise. “These anger issues didn’t start until after the first run in with Eckert’s pack. You can’t think that’s just coincidence?”

  “Maybe not, but that still doesn’t make it his problem,” Rupert insisted.

  More anger bubbled up in Phelan. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t help. As the oldest creature in the area, I’m sure he’s come across something like this before.” He paused to see if any of his argument was reaching Rupert.

  The older man had a doubtful look on his face.

  “What can it hurt to ask? It’s not like we haven’t gone to him before.” At least a dozen instances where they’d called on Darien’s expertise popped into Phelan’s mind.

  “Things are different this time.” Rupert rumbled in frustration. “Darien isn’t a free agent anymore. Now that he’s tied himself to a kiss, he’s an active member of the Vampire Council. If we take our troubles to him, he has no choice but to take it to the council. We may be on steady terms with them for now, but I don’t want them finding out there is an instability in the pack. You remember the last time something like this happened?”

  “Yes,” Phelan said through clenched teeth. The level of his aggravation rose as he pulled up the old memories. “Thomas killed one of the council members.”

  Rupert shook his head in disgust.
“I knew the man was unhappy with the way I was handling things, but I still have a hard time believing he would completely ignore the truce we had.”

  “He had just cause,” Phelan argued. “The vampires killed his daughter and you wouldn’t do anything about it.”

  This caused Rupert to snarl in anger. “I was doing something about it,” he snapped. “Clara and I were discussing the issue. She had already agreed to compensation and the death of the one responsible when Thomas and his followers pulled Justin and his people from their daytime rest to burn in the street. Justin was innocent and did not deserve that fate.”

  “Didn’t you care about the death of Thomas’s daughter?” Phelan snapped.

  “I did care,” Rupert yelled, “but I also cared about the rest of the pack. How many lives were lost due to that one senseless act?”

  “Only because you wouldn’t let us destroy the vampires,” Phelan raged. “You kept us from an all-out assault that would have ended the fight before it took hold! We could have destroyed them all before they had a chance to hurt another of ours.”

  Rupert stopped and stared at his second, shocked by his words. “No,” he said, unsure why Phelan was spouting this nonsense. “We didn’t stand a chance against the vampires. You knew that as well as I. Clara is more powerful than she lets on, and if we had launched an all-out attack on the vampires, Darien would have had no choice but to back up his kin. Going up against him is suicide.”

  “But you didn’t even try,” Phelan screamed. His fist clenched at his side in rage as he threw out his accusations. “You would rather coddle your damn vampire than stand behind the needs of your own people.”

  Confusion and concern creased Rupert’s brow. This was unlike his friend. Phelan liked Darien. He had also understood Rupert’s position in the past. It was bizarre he would take such a stance now. “Phelan?” Rupert asked as he reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder.

  As the hand made contact, Phelan shrieked in rage and slung his fist into Rupert’s face, staggering the man back. Red colored Phelan’s vision as he tore out of his coat and leaped at his alpha. His mind spun with hate and rage, driving all thought out of his head. The smell of blood on Rupert’s split lip made Phelan’s blood boil. His wolf ripped through his skin, shredding his shirt.

  Staggering away from his attacking friend, Rupert threw his arm up just in time to stop the sharp teeth from reaching the delicate skin of his throat. Shocked by the sudden attack, he yelled out as he fell backwards under the weight of the wolf. He lay on the ground, stunned by the sudden violence, as Phelan mauled the sleeve of his jacket. The outburst was unlike anything Rupert had ever seen from his second. The unprovoked attack reminded him of the problems they were having with the pack, and sorrow filled his heart as he gathered his thoughts enough to start fighting back. It wasn’t fear of death or injury that pained Rupert, it was the dread of having to hurt or kill one of his closest friends.

  ***

  The sound of her feet thumping across the pavement soothed Krissy as she ran along the deserted trail. She loved running in the evening. The night air was calming after a long day at work, and today had been especially hard. Someone brought a litter of puppies into the animal hospital where Krissy worked. Some asshat had put the poor little things in a bag, tied it, and chucked them into a drainage ditch to die. Unfortunately, the culprit got away and the puppies were in a wretched state by the time they made it to the clinic. Two of the six pups had died before they could get enough fluids in them. Of the four remaining, they didn't expect three of them to last the night. It tore her heart out anytime she saw such beautiful creatures abandoned or mistreated.

  The cool winter wind was unseasonably warm for the time of year, but it made for a wonderful run. Putting some extra power in her steps, she pounded her way down the path, trying to lose herself in the rush of exercise. It was starting to work when the cries of a man sounded off to her right. Krissy knew there was another trail just on the other side of the wooded section, but she never ran it this late at night. It was much longer than the main path, and it wasn’t nearly as well lit. Ignoring the warnings in her head, she changed her course and rushed off into the dark towards the sound of a struggle. The snarl of a wild animal spurred her steps on. As she found the second path, she slowed to get her bearings. Looking both ways, Krissy scanned for the man in distress, but she didn’t see anyone on the path.

  “Phelan!”

  The sound of the man’s scream put Krissy in motion again. She raced down the packed dirt towards the noise. As she rounded the corner, she saw the man in trouble. He lay on his back with the largest dog Krissy had ever seen latched onto his arm. The man slung his fist into the side of the creature’s head, but it wasn’t doing much good.

  “Hold on,” Krissy screamed as she hurled herself onto the back of the ravenous creature ready to tear the throat out of the hapless man. He wasn’t usually what Krissy would consider helpless by any means. Good Lord, he must have been at least six feet tall and built like a boxer, but he was definitely having a bit of bad luck, pinned to the ground as he was by the massive dog. Blood ran from where the canine had shredded most of his leather coat sleeve. The impact of her body caught the creature by surprise. Her slight weight coupled with the momentum of her run threw the attacking creature off balance and away from its victim.

  Snaking an arm around the dog’s neck, she clamped her free hand down over its eyes and held on as it rolled under her. Just as quickly as she dropped the thing, it was back up and snarling. As she wrapped her legs around the dog’s middle, she did the one thing she knew could save her life. She sang.

  The first lines of Oh Danny Boy slipped out as the massive dog snarled and thrashed. Pouring herself into the calming tune, she waited for her gifts to reach the creature and soothe its inner soul. She could feel the anger and ferocity raging in the creature’s heart, but she ignored it and filled her mind with images of soft green fields and calm waters. The notes of the song carried her power deep into the monster trying to shake her off. As that center of fury cooled, the shaking eased.

  Krissy had always been able to feel the emotions of those around her. It was a gift that had plagued her from birth. Her parents hadn’t been very understanding when she told them she could tune into the feeling of others. No matter how many times she tried to explain the situation, they believed she had some kind of mental trouble that needed treatment—not a natural ability that needed to be explored. Her parents forced her into years of child psychiatrist visits and loads of useless drugs before giving up on trying to “cure” her. That was the best thing they could ever have done.

  Once free of those needless drugs, she was able to sort her feeling out from others and learn to block the unwanted ones. It didn’t take any time for her to discover she could influence feelings too. Even in animals. That gift was what caused her to sling herself onto the back of some crazed canine trying to eat a complete stranger.

  Remembering the fallen man, Krissy looked up to make sure the victim had gotten away. To her utmost horror, the man hadn’t escaped. He’d pushed himself up on his elbows, but he still lay on the ground, watching her with wide eyes. His mouth hung open as she rode the beast’s slowing convulsions. She caught his eye and tried to get him to run without faltering her song. Her trick only worked if she kept her emotions level and continued the flow of sound uninterrupted. Her heart skipped at his lack of comprehension, and the dog renewed its attempts to shake her off. Clamping her legs tighter around the thing’s middle, she slipped into another soft ballad. She turned her head and pressed her cheek into the coarse fur on top of the animal’s head. Turning her mind back to soothing thoughts, she sang on, hoping the man would come to his senses and run. If he was in too much shock from blood loss, she could always deal with him after she finished soothing this savage beast. She hoped he at least had enough sense to put some pressure on that nasty wound on his arm.

  Slowly, the creature under her stilled. She moved th
e music on to more soothing tunes. Soon, the beast had relaxed to the point where it was laying on the ground, but Krissy continued to sing, trying to lull it to sleep. She could still feel tension in the dog’s muscles. It would be best if the thing were completely calm, if not asleep, when she got up. She had never seen a dog as large as this one. It was easily two hundred pounds of sheer muscle.

  Lifting her head from the relaxing animal, Krissy glanced over to where her stranger was. He had finally pulled himself together enough to sit up, but he was still staring at her with a fascinated look on his face. She flicked her head, trying to make him understand that this would be a great time to make himself scarce, but he didn’t seem to understand. The dog beneath her shivered and growled softly, showing the slip in her concentration. She turned her attention back to it, kissed it softly between the ears, and focused on her work. As its tension eased, she had loosened her death grip on it. She scrubbed her fingers into the fur at the side of its neck. The outer layer was coarse and scratchy, but the inner was soft and downy. She let out a sigh of pleasure as she petted the dog and sang.

  Closing her eyes, she laid her head on top of the dog’s and slipped into humming the melodic notes. It really didn’t matter what the words were, as long as the tune was gentle and she kept pressing calming feelings out at that core of fury she’d felt. She tested it to see how long she would have to remain there. The animal’s heart had let loose of its rage, but it was not replaced with the easy feeling she was used to. This time, curiosity replaced the anger. She pondered this as she snuggled down into the coarse fur, enjoying the animal’s warmth. It felt good against her night-cooled skin.

  As she lay against the dog, it let out a whimper. Tingles of electricity raced over her skin, making her tense up. The flow of her song broke as she gasped in surprise. Unsure what was going on, she opened her eyes and looked down at the creature below her. There was something different about the feel of the fur in her hands. It was thinning out right before her eyes. When the bones in the dog’s skull cracked and moved, she screamed and scampered away from it. She watched in horror as the creature’s parts realigned themselves into something much too human. A single word shrieked through her mind as she scrambled away from the mythical beast shifting in front of her. Krissy knew werewolves were not real, but the man lying on the ground had indeed been a dog just moments before.