Free Red Rose Moon (Seasons of the Moon) by SM Reine Page B

support her weight. But she could support a huge knife. It had a spiked blade that looked like it would hurt going in, and be impossible to remove without serious damage.
    Rylie struggled to stand in her dress. “Eleanor?”
    The woman limped toward her. “Did you do it?” Eleanor asked. Her words were jumbled, a little too fast. “Did you lasso my boy at long last?”
    Fear made Rylie’s heart pound. But she couldn’t lose herself in the comfort of the wolf’s merciless anger, even though it tried to rise within her—Abel had said that shapeshifting would make her lose the baby.
    But she also couldn’t fight Eleanor as a human, unarmed and alone.
    She backed away slowly. “Wait,” Rylie said, swallowing down her wolf. “Don’t—”
    Her foot caught on the train of her dress, and she tripped backwards. She landed hard on her butt. Her temple smacked into a broken board, sending her head spinning.
    Eleanor lurched forward.
    “Temptress,” she whispered, ichor dribbling down her lip. “ Whore .”
    Kicking her feet free of her dress, Rylie struggled to stand again. But Eleanor was strangely fast, for a woman who was falling apart. She lifted the knife.
    Rylie was going to have to change. She had to.
    She pressed a hand to her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
    A shotgun blast rang out.
    Eleanor shrieked, and Rylie’s eyes flew open.
    Gwyn stood a few feet away, gun braced against her shoulder. She had blasted away part of Eleanor’s ribcage.
    The knife slipped from Eleanor’s fingers and bounced across the burned ground.
    “You keep the hell away from my niece,” Gwyn said.
    “You can’t kill me,” Eleanor said scornfully. “I’m as immortal as you are!”
    Gwyn lowered the shotgun and pulled something out of her pocket.
    The animal skull.
    Eleanor’s eyes widened as Gwyn lifted the tiny animal skull over her head.
    “Immortal? I don’t think so. You’ve already walked this earth about thirty years too long, Eleanor.”
    “It will kill you, too!”
    But Gwyneth brought the skull crashing down on the wall. The bauble shattered. The skull exploded into a thousand fragments.
    “No!” Rylie screamed.
    Her cries mingled with Eleanor’s. It shook dust from the crumbling rafters of the barn.
    Seth’s mother collapsed in an instant, as if she was nothing more than a bag of bones. But the life—and the anger—remained in her face. Her one good eye stared up at the rafters.
    “Monsters,” Eleanor whispered.
    Then she was gone.

F OURTEEN
    The Reception
    As soon as Rylie was sure that Eleanor’s remains were done twitching, she ran to Gwyneth. “Oh my God,” Rylie breathed, grabbing her aunt by the shoulders to look at her. “Are you okay?”
    Gwyn chuckled. “I’m fine, babe.”
    “But the skull—”
    Gwyn patted her back. “I was brought back by a charm, not black magic. I knew I’d survive breaking the skull.”
    “Did you? Really?”
    “Well… no.” She winked. “But I had a pretty good feeling.”
    A laugh burst out of Rylie’s chest—one that was more relief than actual happiness. She threw her arms around Gwyn and squeezed her tightly. But not too tight.
    “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered against her aunt’s shoulder.
    “Well, I’m not totally unscathed.” Gwyn drew back and turned to show Rylie a wound on her back—a circle of human teeth over her ribcage. “A couple members of the pack sided with Cain, and they fight nasty. Good thing I’m already dead, or the next three months sure wouldn’t be fun.”
    Rylie clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh no.”
    “It’s all right. Just a flesh wound.”
    “But you can’t heal that!”
    Gwyn shrugged. “You’re okay, and the baby’s okay. That’s all that matters.”
    She looped her arm around Rylie’s shoulders and steered her out of the barn.
    A black wolf came rushing down the hill and stopped just in front of Rylie. Abel butted his broad nose into her side. His hot