Page 2 of Howl Me to the Moon (Moonlight Siren Supernatural Cruises #2)
CHAPTER 2
REX
I rolled my shoulders and adjusted the strap of my bass guitar for the third time before I checked the sound. My wolf moved restlessly beneath my skin. What was up with him today? He’d been unable to sit still all morning.
Settle down , I told him. I couldn't screw this up—not when this was a new start for us. There was no way I would go crawling back to my former pack.
"Nervous, new guy?" Van, the lead singer, teased as he sauntered up to the mic stand in the Nocturnal Lounge, the intimate space with the small stage for performances.
I didn’t have the same confidence as he exuded, especially tonight. It was my first night playing in front of the guests of the Moonlight Siren. I’d been hired to join Luna Blue Shadows, and tonight was our first live gig. No pressure—just my entire future riding on this new opportunity.
“Nah,” I lied and shook my head. “Just anxious to play.”
I strummed a few notes of “Born to Be Wild,” making sure everything sounded good. The acoustic quality in the lounge, enhanced by enchanted crystals, added an ethereal vibe that suited this cruise line that catered to supernaturals. Tonight was '60s night, one of our themes for each night we played. We’d fine-tuned the set list during practice over the last couple of weeks to ensure I fit in seamlessly.
"As long as you're not as fiery-headed as our last bassist, we should be good," said Caleb, the massive gray gargoyle, booming from behind the drum set.
Yeah, I’d heard about that fight. The selkie shifter, Angus, had let his ego control his emotions. He’d lashed out, lunging at Caleb—which made as much sense as stage-diving into a boulder. Angus quit, and the band scrambled for a replacement.
Which worked out with perfect timing for me as I was looking into options with a supernatural network. Not only did I need a place to live but a way to make a living, or I’d go full wolf and live in the forest.
This opportunity was perfect. I had a chance to see the world, to explore beyond the confines of my former pack’s territory. And though I missed the dynamics of pack life, I found comfort in the routine of ship life and working with the band. We’d already spent countless hours together, rehearsing and preparing for nights like this.
I chuckled to offset my anxiety. “I’m more fur than fire.” I strummed my bass, fingers steady despite my nerves.
“And I’m on fire, baby,” Van said, motioning in front of his body before cocking his hip. The jaguar shifter loved attention.
What an eclectic band I’d ended up joining—one with a vampire, jaguar, and gargoyle. The four of us were a supernatural mix of fangs, fur, and stone. Pretty wild.
Damien, the vampire, with long black hair and bright green eyes, strummed the guitar on the other side of the stage. "Less smack talk, more sound check."
He was right. The more I practiced now, the more at ease I’d feel tonight in front of the crowd.
“Check,” Van said. Then he growled the opening lyrics into the mic, deep and rich, which many compared to Chris Cornell. He was the ideal frontman for this band. He exuded charisma—the kind that made him irresistible to the ladies. It didn’t hurt that he had the bad boy appeal with roguish blond hair and moved like a serpent with the mic.
As for me, the last thing on my mind was any sort of romantic entanglement. Sure, there were many beautiful ladies on board, but I had priorities. I needed to prove myself to the band and assure them they’d made the right choice by picking up an unknown with no professional experience.
I had a fresh start here, and I was eager to take it.
After a break for dinner and changing for the show, we returned to the stage. I kept it basic black—boots, jeans, shirt—and some silver jewelry. Passengers began to fill the seats in the lounge with its dark paneling, polished bar, and comfortable seating with small round tables. Their varied scents reached me, a wide range of supernatural types. Being on board here was so different from my former pack, where wolf shifters regarded anyone outside of the pack with suspicion.
Inside, my wolf stirred with more restlessness. Was it my anxiety about the show tonight affecting him? I rubbed my beard while trying to sense the source. No, something felt strange. Different. More anticipation than nerves.
"Five minutes," Van muttered under his breath. Then he flirted with a trio of women sitting in the front row who appeared to be fae.
I took a deep breath, focusing my energy on the music. Passengers filled the space, taking seats and placing their glow-in-the-dark cocktails on the small tables. One of the draws to this lounge was the brightly colored cocktails, enchanting by who-knew-what kind of magic.
The room filled with the low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. Damien counted us in, and we launched into "Bad Moon Rising.” The familiar notes flowed with ease after many hours of practice. Within a minute, I settled into the rhythm.
My confidence grew with the next song, “Purple Haze.” The supernatural energy coupled with our music surged through me, an energetic jolt.
Then a woman with shimmering rosy-gold hair walked in.
My wolf surged forward with such force that my fingers stumbled over the strings. Damien shot me a look as if to ask what the hell was that ? My mistake sounded so loud in my head, like a record scratch booming in a silent room. I forced myself to recover and resume playing while my heart hammered against my ribcage, even faster than Caleb’s relentless pounding on the drums.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. She walked with Kylie, Damien’s mate, to the bar at the back of the room. She wore a blue and white dress that flowed over her curves.
My wolf prowled restlessly inside, insisting we get closer to her.
Cut it out , I warned. Or you're going to get us fired on our first night.