Mated by Moonlight: a Fated Mates Shifter Romance, page 1
MATED BY MOONLIGHT
A FATED MATES SHIFTER ROMANCE
MOONLIGHT MATES
BOOK 1
INES JOHNSON
THOSE JOHNSON GIRLS
Copyright © 2024, Ines Johnson. All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the author.
Edited by Kasi Alexander
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
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1
Gideon Blackwood squinted in the bright afternoon sun. He lifted his hands to shield his eyes. Even after a year of being back home in Moonridge Mountains, he still wasn't used to operating in daylight. Ten years in the Shifter Special Forces had kept him moving stealthily under the cover of night. One thing he had missed, though, was the crisp mountain air.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of his cubhood. The air was tinged with the scent of wood smoke and pine, mixed with the faint aroma of spiced cider. His senses were on high alert, as always, but today they carried a different weight.
The mountain town bustled with activity as the townsfolk prepared for the monthly full moon festival. Lanterns adorned with intricate designs of wolves and moons were strung across the streets, ready to cast shadows on the cobblestones once the sun set. Stalls selling moon-shaped pastries and trinkets lined the pathways, filling the air with the mingling scents of freshly baked goods. Children laughed as they chased each other, their faces painted with stars and celestial patterns. Musicians tuned their instruments, ready to play melodies that would serenade the festival-goers under the moonlit sky.
Gideon adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, feeling the familiar roughness against his skin. Every full moon festival for the past two decades had been a disappointment, each one passing without him finding his fated mate. He had given up on the idea, resigning himself to the belief that perhaps he was meant to walk his path alone.
Beside him, Rylan, the Alpha of their pack, matched his pace. Rylan’s broad shoulders and towering presence were an imposing sight, a reminder of the strength and unity of the Ironwood wolf pack. Yet even Rylan’s usual confident demeanor radiated with irritation today. Gideon felt the tension rolling off the Alpha in waves.
“Damn festival,” Rylan muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “Every month, it’s the same chaos."
"Are you sure about this arranged marriage?" asked Gideon.
"I'm surprised you of all people would ask me that. Neither one of us has sensed our fated mates all these years. Let's face it. We're not of the chosen who will get that honor."
Rylan called it an honor. Gideon called it a curse. What woman would want to be shackled to a wolf that was scarred inside and out? Rylan's time in the military had honed him into a leader. It had made Gideon into a deadly weapon that many inside his unit were wary of.
"There's Micah Vance," said Rylan. "I need to go and finish the details of this contract with him before the festival begins."
"You sure?"
"The union between the Sequoia pack and ours will strengthen our borders."
Not that the Ironwood pack's borders needed any strengthening. With more than half of the males and a fair number of the women in the pack having done a stint in the armed forces, there were few who would sniff around these parts. Even the dragons gave the wolves of Moonridge Mountain a wide berth.
"Better I use my position to our advantage than keep sniffing around for a mate who might never come. You good to meet with the architect for the new build on your own?"
In addition to their borders being secure, they were also expanding. Rylan had put Gideon in charge of developing acres of untouched land for their growing pack. Gideon had studied construction in school, but he knew his friend had assigned him the work to get him out of his lonely cabin. If Gideon had said no, his Alpha would've simply ordered him to do the job. So the nod he gave Rylan was perfunctory.
"His name is Maize Mercer."
Weird name. Not that Gideon was one to talk. But at least his parents hadn't named him after corn.
Rylan took a left while Gideon took a right down the main street. As Gideon walked down the bustling sidewalk, the festive atmosphere only served to heighten his annoyance. The decorations were a reminder of the festival's significance and the expectations that came with it. Said heightened senses picked up snippets of excited chatter about fated mates, a topic that now felt like salt in a wound.
Gideon reached the town square, where a large gazebo had been set up, draped in silver and blue fabrics that shimmered under the sun's rays. His eyes scanned the area, searching for the architect Rylan had hired. His gaze settled on a petite woman with chestnut hair pulled back into a loose bun, studying blueprints spread out on a table. This must be Mr. Mercer's assistant.
He walked up to her. The wind shifted, lifting the strands of her hair from the nape of her neck. That slight breeze was all it took. It was like a hit in the chest.
Gideon’s heart came to a complete stop. It would've been painful if he hadn't known what was happening. The draw to her was unavoidable. He couldn't have stopped his boot-clad feet if he'd dug a hole where he stood. There was no way he wasn't going to get to her, get beside her, get on top of her.
That pulled him up short. That, and the fact that she smelled human. Humans didn't feel the pull of the mating bond. Not at first. It took until the moon was at its peak before a human might get a whiff of the bond. That is, if he didn't spook her away before the sun set.
"Excuse you?"
Gideon blinked once, twice. He was standing in front of her. His boots met the tips of her ballet-like slippered shoes. He was taking up all of her space. And she wasn't backing down.
"I'm sorry," he said. But he didn't take a step back. He couldn't.
She looked him up and down, like she was a riled kitty who was about to scratch. His lips wanted to quirk up into a smile. Problem was his muscles had forgotten how.
"I'm here for you," he said.
"You're here for me?"
"I'm here for your boss; Mr. Mercer."
She tugged on her lower lip. The move was tinged with annoyance, but it rang in Gideon's head like a seductive bell. He felt the reverb down in his pants.
“I'm Maize Mercer. You're Mr. Stone?"
"No."
Maize sighed with relief. "Good. I thought I was going to have to deal with a misogynist on this project."
"You will. I mean—you'll have to deal with me. I'm Gideon. Blackwood. I'm the foreman."
Maize inhaled, giving him another once-over. "Do you have a problem with women in charge, Mr. Blackwood?"
That was a loaded question. This woman was already in charge of him. He would lay down his life for her. But just as he suspected, she was frowning at him. She would likely reject him. Humans could do that. Especially if a wolf couldn't get them to bond before the full moon phase was over.
"Actually, Mr. Blackwood, it doesn't matter. Just keep your sexist BS to yourself, and we'll be fine. I'm here to do a job."
Great. He'd met his fated mate, and she thought he was a chauvinist. Could this day get any worse?
2
"I’ve brought the designs for the new homes. I think you’ll find them quite suitable."
Maize watched as Mr. Blackwood's eyes examined her instead of her meticulous drawings. The weight of his dark gaze unsettled her.
He wasn't leering at her. Maize had been leered at before. It was her number one red flag when going out with her friends. During her college years, most night clubs resembled a NASCAR race. In those races, a red flag meant the race was over or a serious accident had occurred on the dance floor. By the second time Maize had gotten her emotions bruised by ignoring those red flags, she had stopped going to clubs. Too many speed demons on those sticky floors.
She'd thought her time was better spent getting ahead in her career. Unfortunately, the offices of builders and architects were just filled with guys in slower cars waving even more flags. This time, those flags kept her out of boardrooms and corner offices.
Having quit both the dating scene and those corporate rooms, Maize hadn't been leered at a lot. Yet she still remembered what it felt like. And Mr. Blackwood's gaze wasn't it.
There was interest there, to be sure. But his gaze was more carnal, like he was sizing up which part of her he'd take a bite out of first. He was a werewolf, after all. She knew she couldn't show a shifter any sign of fear.
So ignoring the discomfort, she spread the blueprints across the table. Her fingers brushed over the crisp lines and detailed annotations she had spent countless hours perfecting. "These are the layouts for the new housing development. Each home is designed to blend seamlessly with the natural landscape, providing security and privacy for th
Mr. Blackwood leaned in, examining the blueprints. His expression was unreadable, which only fueled Maize’s anxiety. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring at the plans—and occasionally at her. His nostrils were flaring, like… like he was smelling her.
His posture was tense, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. His nostrils flared again, inhaling deeply, and his head cocked in a way that was entirely animalistic. Maize watched him, holding entirely still. She felt as smart as a cockroach on the wall; if she didn't move, he couldn't see her.
He stepped closer, his gaze intense on her forearm, which was covered by a blouse and a jacket. Without a word, he dipped his head and nuzzled her forearm, right where the bruise was. Before the tip of his nose could meet the fabric of her jacket, Maize gasped and jerked away. But the almost-contact had already sent a shiver down her spine.
Gideon's eyes darkening with fury. "Who hurt you?"
It was a growl. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the air. It unfurled something in Maize's belly.
She immediately clamped down on it. She looked down at her arm. The skin there hadn't been broken. She had no idea how he'd… Oh, right. He was a wolf. He could probably smell the bruise.
"I bumped into a wall."
Gideon straightened up, his eyes narrowing slightly. The look on his face told her that he was on to her misdirection. She got the sense he was letting it slide, but only for now.
"If you’re not happy with my work, say so. I can leave, but I expect to be paid for the designs I’ve already completed."
"Your work is impressive, Ms. Mercer. I’m just… surprised."
Maize folded her arms over her chest, her brows furrowing. "Surprised because I’m a woman?"
"No, I’m surprised because you’re human."
She had expected sexism, not species-ism. "I assure you, my being human doesn’t affect my capability as an architect."
"I didn’t mean to offend. Your designs are exactly what we need."
"Great. Then I'm happy to get started in the morning."
"Work doesn't start until the holiday is over."
"Holiday?"
"It's the full moon festival."
Right. She bit down on her lower lip. Then realized she was doing it and let out a huff of air. It was a full moon festival that had gotten her family into a heap of trouble. It's why she'd packed up herself and her sister and moved out into the middle of nowhere mountains of Virginia.
"Fine, we'll head to the hotel."
"We?" Mr. Blackwood's brows creased.
"Me and my sister. She's my business partner. She does the interior design."
"Right. Originally, I thought you were her."
"Nope."
"Nope."
They stood there staring at each other. Maize didn't want to find him handsome. She didn't want to feel the flutter of attraction every time she caught him giving her another once-over. But there was no denying it: Gideon Blackwood was striking in a way that was impossible to ignore.
His face was all hard angles and rugged lines, the kind of face that belonged on the cover of a romance novel or a hero in an action movie. His jaw was strong and sharp, covered in a light stubble that added to his raw, untamed look. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of amber that glowed with an inner fire. She could see the wolf in them.
That's what shut down her raging lady bits right there. Wolves were the ultimate of red flags.
If she had been into shifters, Gideon would have been the best specimen among them. He embodied everything that was powerful and primal about wolves. There was an undeniable magnetism in the way he moved, the way he carried himself. But Maize wasn't into shifters, she reminded herself firmly. She wasn't looking for a relationship, not after everything she and Liza had been through this past year.
"I'll see you in three days, then." Maize rolled up her designs and stuffed them into her bag.
"No," he said.
"No?"
Gideon swallowed hard. That Adam's apple working. Those broad shoulders bristling. "You'll stay on our land. We have a place for you."
"That's generous. I didn't know the job came with lodging."
"It does. One of the pack members has given up his cabin for you. I hope you'll find it to your liking."
Five minutes later, Maize was across the street and headed to her car. She had the directions to the cabin written on a piece of blueprint. Apparently, the place was so off grid that her GPS wouldn't have found it.
Maize’s fingers trembled as she fumbled for her keys. She had worked hard to project confidence and professionalism, but the nagging fear that she and Liza were not truly safe here gnawed at her. As she reached her car, the festive sounds of the moon festival preparation drifted over—laughter, music, and the occasional howl from enthusiastic shifters celebrating early.
A yelp came from the passenger seat of the car when Maize opened the door. Liza jumped, her eyes wide with panic.
“It’s just me,” Maize whispered soothingly, sliding into the driver’s seat.
She hated seeing her strong, vibrant sister reduced to this fearful shadow. Rob had done this—had turned Liza from a confident woman into a frightened mouse with his relentless threats and stalking.
“It’s all going to be okay, Liza,” Maize said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. She started the car, the engine’s hum a small comfort in the night’s uncertainty.
Liza’s eyes darted around, her breathing shallow. “It’s just… being here, at a full moon festival… it brings back everything. I was so stupid to believe him."
"You were not stupid. How were you to know? We're not wolves. We don't have big noses."
"Wolves don't have big noses, Maizey."
"Rob had a big nose."
"Yeah, he did." Liza giggled, then chuckled. Then snorted.
It was so good to hear the happy sound from her. But it was all too short-lived.
"Sometimes… I still think it might be true. What if I really am his fated mate?”
Maize’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles white. “He’s a liar, Liza. A manipulative bastard who used those lies to control you. We came here to get away from him, and he won’t dare come onto another pack’s territory.”
She glanced at her sister, seeing the fear etched into her features, and felt a surge of anger. Not at Liza, but at the situation that had brought them to this point. Maize despised wolves and their possessive natures. Wolves were all the same. And she couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not even for a moment.
3
Gideon pulled out his phone and dialed. Luckily, the number was already programmed into his phone in the second favorites spot. His brain was too full of holding on to every second of his time with Maize to grasp at any memories as complicated as a ten-digit phone number. Not when he'd watched the way Maize had cautiously approached her car. Nor the way the occupant inside had jumped at her approach. His instincts had been right; someone had hurt one or both of the Mercer sisters.
“Hey, big bro! What’s up?”
Gideon frowned at the phone's face. "Caleb?"
"No." There was an annoyed clucking sound, the sound made at the back of the throat when his baby brother got annoyed. "I reprogrammed myself into the number two spot on your phone. Caleb's down at number ten where he belongs."
Gideon sighed and pinched the bridge between his nose. "Fine. Elijah, I need a favor."
“What, did you finally find your fated mate and need me to plan the wedding?”
This was why Gideon had meant to call his youngest brother, and not the middle one, who took everything as a joke. Still, Elijah did have a useful set of skills he could use.
“Just shut up and listen. I need you to find out everything you can on a Maize Mercer. And do it fast.”
There was a brief silence on the other end before Elijah spoke again, his tone laced with curiosity. “Maize Mercer, huh? Why does that name sound familiar? It's not Rylan's arranged mate, is it?”
“No,” Gideon snapped, impatience creeping into his voice. “She’s the architect. The one Rylan hired for the new homes.”
