blood moon claim

# Chapter One: The Awakening The scream that tore from Lila Kane's throat at 3:47 AM would have woken the entire town of Pine Ridge—if Pine Ridge had been a normal town. Instead, every werewolf within a five-mile radius shot upright in their beds, hackles raised, as the sound of a Lunar Omega's first awakening rippled through the mountain air like thunder before a storm. Lila didn't know any of that. All she knew was that liquid fire was racing through her veins, her bones felt like they were splitting apart, and something wild and desperate was clawing its way out from deep inside her chest. She rolled off her bed, hitting the hardwood floor of her cabin with a thud that sent her grandmother's antique lamp crashing down beside her. Glass scattered across the floor, but she barely felt the shards biting into her palms as she pressed them against the cool wood, gasping. *What the hell is happening to me?* The fever had been building for days. She'd chalked it up to the flu, maybe exhaustion from pulling double shifts at the veterinary clinic. But this—this was something else entirely. Her skin felt too tight, hypersensitive to every brush of air. The oversized t-shirt she'd worn to bed might as well have been made of sandpaper. She yanked it over her head and flung it away, but even the cool mountain air streaming through her open window wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. She needed— *What?* *What do I need?* A howl echoed across the forest, long and mournful, and something inside her chest *responded*. Not her heart—something deeper, more primal. Something that had been sleeping for twenty-five years and was now stretching, yawning, demanding to be acknowledged. "No," she whispered, even as another wave of heat crashed over her. "No, no, no. This isn't real. This isn't happening." But even as she denied it, she could feel her canine teeth sharpening, her nails hardening into claws. The scents flooding her nostrils were suddenly overwhelming—pine sap and wood smoke, the musk of wild animals, and underneath it all, something else. Something that made her mouth water and her core clench with need. *Male. Alpha. Mine.* The thought came from somewhere that wasn't entirely human, and it scared her more than the physical changes wracking her body. Lila Kane had spent her entire life being perfectly, boringly normal. The boring human daughter in a family line of what her grandmother had cryptically called "late bloomers." She was the veterinarian who treated ranch dogs and house cats, who lived alone in a cabin she'd inherited, who had never felt the pull of anything wilder than her weekend hiking trails. She was *not* the kind of woman who had feral thoughts about strange men she'd never met. Another howl, closer this time, and her body betrayed her completely. Her back arched off the floor as heat pooled between her thighs, slick and demanding. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, but even that copper tang seemed to inflame her senses further. Through the haze of fever and confusion, she heard the rumble of a motorcycle engine growing closer. Headlights swept across her windows as the bike turned up her long driveway, and every instinct she didn't know she possessed screamed at her to hide. Or run to meet whoever was coming. She couldn't decide which impulse was stronger. The engine cut off just as another wave of heat slammed into her. This time, she couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped her throat. She was burning alive from the inside out, and some primitive part of her brain was convinced that whoever had just arrived could make it stop. Heavy boots crunched across the gravel outside. A pause. Then a knock on her front door—firm, controlled, but with an underlying urgency that made her pulse spike. "Lila Kane." The voice was deep, rough, with an edge of command that went straight to her core. "I know you're in there. I know what's happening to you." She pressed herself back against the wall beside her bedroom door, naked and shaking, trying to think through the fever clouding her judgment. She didn't recognize the voice, but everything inside her was screaming to open the door. To let him in. To— "I'm here to help," the voice continued, and she could hear him moving around to the back of the cabin. "Your awakening is affecting the entire pack. You need an alpha's assistance, or this fever will kill you." *Pack? Alpha?* The words should have sounded crazy. They should have sent her scrambling for her phone to call 911. Instead, they resonated through her bones like a tuning fork, making perfect, terrifying sense. She heard the soft snick of her back door's lock being picked, and instead of fear, she felt a rush of anticipation so strong it made her knees buckle. "I'm coming in," he called out, his voice closer now. "I'm not going to hurt you." *But you could,* whispered that new, wild part of her mind. *You could hurt me so good.* Footsteps moved through her living room, sure and steady. She could smell him now—leather and pine and something darker, more complex. Something that made her mouth water and her body clench with need. "Where are you, little omega?" The endearment should have been insulting. Instead, it sent another bolt of heat straight through her core. She pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve the ache building there, but it only made things worse. Her bedroom door swung open, and Lila Kane got her first look at the man who was about to turn her world upside down. He was massive—easily six-foot-four, with the kind of broad shoulders and lean muscle that spoke of physical power held under tight control. Dark hair fell across his forehead, and his eyes were the color of storm clouds, currently fixed on her with an intensity that made her want to either run or spread her legs wider. She managed neither. She just stared at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the scar running from his left temple to his jaw, the way he filled her doorway like he owned it. Like he owned everything in it. Including her. "There you are," he murmured, and the rough approval in his voice made her inner muscles clench. "Christ, you're beautiful." She should cover herself. She should demand to know who he was and how he'd gotten into her house. She should do a hundred things that a rational woman would do when confronted with a dangerous stranger in her bedroom. Instead, she found herself rising to her feet, swaying slightly as another wave of heat crashed over her. His nostrils flared, and she saw his hands clench into fists at his sides. "What's happening to me?" she whispered. "You're awakening," he said simply. "Twenty-five years late, but awakening nonetheless. You're a werewolf, Lila. And not just any werewolf—you're a Lunar Omega. The first one born in over a century." The words hit her like physical blows, but underneath the shock, something clicked into place. All those family stories about "late bloomers." Her grandmother's cryptic warnings about staying away from the deep woods during certain moon phases. The way she'd always felt like she was waiting for something without knowing what. "That's impossible," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. He stepped into the room, and she caught his full scent—alpha male and forest and something uniquely *him* that made her knees weak. "Is it? Look at yourself, sweetheart. Look at what's happening to your body." She glanced down and saw the truth she'd been denying. Her nails had lengthened into claws. Her canine teeth were razor-sharp points. And her skin—God, her skin was practically glowing with fever and need. "The heat will get worse," he continued, his voice gentle but implacable. "It'll build until it kills you, unless you accept help from an alpha." "You," she whispered, and it wasn't a question. Something flashed in his storm-gray eyes. "My name is Cade Blackwood. I'm the alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and right now, I'm the only thing standing between you and a very painful death." Another wave of heat slammed into her, stronger than before, and she doubled over with a cry. Through the haze of pain and need, she felt strong arms catch her, lifting her against a chest that felt like a furnace. "Easy," Cade murmured against her hair, and his voice was rougher now, strained. "I've got you." But even as he held her, she could feel the tension in his body, could smell the sharp edge of his arousal mixing with his natural scent. Whatever was happening to her, it was affecting him too. "What do you need from me?" she gasped, looking up into his face. His jaw was tight, his eyes almost black with want, and when he spoke, his voice was barely human. "Everything."