Page 75 of Bite

[ 48 ]

FERRIS

The Great Plains

12 Hours Until the Full Moon

We have all come to the realization that we aren’t even going to make it to the Foothill Territory before Dair’s rut takes over. At most, there is a measly half day before the full moon rises and Dair’s wolf will fall into lunar rut. The changes have already begun, allowing me to taste his scent in the air from my position in the rear of our group. The rain-soaked forest in his signature smell is strong and earthy, balanced perfectly by a slightly electric zing and the spiced honey that is sharper than ever.

He has Raine walking in front of him, leading the group, so that he has eyes on her and our surroundings at all times. He’s trusting me to watch their backs, and I get a deep thrill at his easy leadership and the confidence he has in me.

Raine’s feet are still a mess, but after we cleaned and medicated them again this morning, Dair wrapped them in some of the medical pads and gauze to cushion the worst of her sores while we walk as far as we can before finding a place to ride out the full moon.

We find a small river tributary and take advantage of its cool water to bathe and wash some of our dirt-crusted clothes. We have a quick meal of canned fish, some wild berries, and water so we can bolster our energy for tonight. Despite our exhaustion, we don’t linger more than necessary.

The sun passes overhead, signaling the beginning of its descent, and I look behind to see the moon slowly appearing in the sky like a ghost. There’s a slight shift in my own body, as if my hormones are surging to prepare for an incoming tidal wave. I can feel my wolf more clearly than ever, like he’s lying just under my skin, itching to get out.

Dair looks back at me, eyes wild and pupils already blown out. “You feel it?”

“Yeah,” I respond, feeling antsy.

“It’s only going to get worse,” he says, helping Raine over a particularly jagged part of the road.

We’re currently attempting to circumvent the major city nearby, hoping to avoid Biters altogether so that we’re not fighting a horde on top of everything else. That means we’re mostly trekking over dirt roads, and the terrain is less than ideal for moving quickly, especially with Raine’s sore feet and labored breaths. It’s adding more time than we’d like, but there’s not much of a choice. Her safety and comfort are our priority, even now.

“We need to start looking for somewhere to hunker down,” Dair continues, eyes wide and glowing.

I solemnly nod. “Alright, I’ll be looking.”

As the hours pass, the sun sinks lower and lower while the moon glows brighter and brighter. Dair’s body is nearly vibrating as he walks, and his scent is now so potent and full of sex pheromones that I’ve remained semi-hard. I don’t know how he’s still moving when I feel like I’m going to collapse at any moment and start rutting my hips into the dirt.

Suddenly, Raine stops walking and her scent sours, putting Dair and me on immediate alert. I blink and my gun is in one hand, my machete in the other.

“What is it?” Dair asks quietly.

“I thought for a second that I scented Biters,” Raine breathes. “The wind shifted just a little, and I could have sworn I smelled their rotting scent.”

Dair turns in a slow circle, nostrils flared wide. “Let’s move quickly,” he grunts, face rising to the dusky sky. “I don’t smell any, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t downwind.”

We ascend the gentle incline as quickly as we can while traversing over the increasingly rocky terrain. All the while, the moon chases us.

[ 49 ]

DAIR

East of the Foothill Territory

The Full Moon

One moment I’m walking behind my omega, eyes constantly scanning for threats in the fading sunlight, and the next, I become hyperaware of her heartbeat, as if I can hear and feel its erratic pulsing in the air between us. My sense of smell becomes that of my wolf—heightened and tuned to perfection—so I can smell when a bead of pheromone-drenched sweat rolls down the back of her neck. I can also scent the slick slide of her labia, wet and ready for my knot after days spent ripening under the direction of my own hormones.

I feel like a predator tracking his prey.

“Ferris,” I growl. “I need you to find somewhere for us to bunker down, immediately.”

“Fuck,” he curses, jogging to catch up to me. “How long do I have?”

I admit, “I don’t know, but not long. I might be able to fight for another hour.”