Page 8 of Nick (The Moonstone Pack #4)
“Brothers and sisters of the Sunburst Pack,” he began, his voice ringing out across the desert. “I am Nick Reagan, and I have returned to claim my place among you. I have come back to fight for what is mine, and to protect those I love.”
The pack members murmured among themselves, and Nick could sense doubt and suspicion in some of them—especially those loyal to Vincent. But he held their gaze steadily, refusing to back down.
“Swear your loyalty to me,” Vincent demanded, his voice menacing.
Nick felt a growl rising in his throat, but he suppressed it with effort. He knew he had to play this game if he wanted to protect Javier. So instead, he nodded.
“Tonight,” Vincent’s voice cut through the tension, “we solidify loyalties. We will have a submission ceremony.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Nick sensed tradition and expectation bearing down on him. He felt anxiety clawing at his chest, but he pushed it back down.
He remembered Ryker’s stories, the ones of going undercover in the Idaho Pack, infiltrating enemy ranks with nothing but his wits and the strength of his will. Ryker had done it for Steele but then stayed undercover for love, for Ivy.
Nick reminded himself he was doing this for Javier, for the chance to mend a bond that had been severed before it could form.
He would bend his knee but not his spirit. In the back of his mind, he knew the submission was a masquerade. A necessary act to draw closer to his son, to ensure Javier would grow up knowing the protective embrace of his father.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Nick’s knees met the sunbaked earth with a soft thud, sending a cloud of dust around his boots. He kept his head high, his gaze locked on Vincent’s calculating eyes.
“I, Nick Reagan, pledge my loyalty to you, Vincent Foley, and to the Sunburst Pack,” he intoned, each word measured and deliberate.
Vincent loomed over him, a dark silhouette against the dying light. The alpha’s presence was oppressive, a force that seemed to push down against Nick.
With a snarl that pierced the dusk, Vincent began to shift.
His human form contorted as bones snapped and muscles reknitted themselves into the powerful frame of a wolf—a creature of raw dominance and unyielding authority.
Fur as black as pitch rippled across his expanding body, and soon a massive wolf stood where the man had been.
The transformation complete, Vincent circled Nick once before leaning in, his hot breath carrying the scent of aggression. Nick remained still, his pulse thundering in his ears, not from fear but from the exertion of restraint.
Vincent growled, a low rumble that resonated through the air.
Nick lowered himself further, his shirt scraping against his chest as he lay flat upon the ground. The act of capitulation was foreign, a bitter taste in his mouth, but he allowed it—allowed the alpha to press a heavy paw against his back, pinning him to the parched earth below.
Beneath Vincent’s paw, the protective instincts that defined Nick roared fiercely. Javier needed him, and no amount of pride would keep Nick from ensuring the boy’s safety.
Silence fell upon the mesa, the pack watching, gauging the genuineness of the moment.
Vincent finally lifted his paw and stepped back, allowing Nick to rise but not to reclaim his full stature.
Nick pushed himself up on shaking arms, dust clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He rose to his knees again, meeting Vincent’s lupine gaze, then dropping his own gaze to the ground.
This was a temporary surrender, a role assumed for a purpose far greater than any pack hierarchy.
Nick stood slowly, the dust of Sunburst Mesa coating his jeans.
The pack still watched him—some with admiration for his capitulation, others with suspicion for his sudden return.
Vincent shifted back into his human form, not bothering to dress again. “Your loyalty is accepted.”
Nick and Sarah both bowed their heads toward Vincent, and then Nick moved back to stand next to her.
“Seal it with a kiss!” a voice erupted from the crowd. Nick recognized it as belonging to Hannah, someone else he wouldn’t have minded never seeing again.
Laughter followed Hannah’s comment, and Nick felt heat rise in his cheeks—not from embarrassment but from a surge of something primal he hadn’t felt in years.
Sarah’s gaze flickered to him, her eyes widening in a silent question.
Nick knew this was part of the spectacle, another act in the play Vincent had staged to prove his dominance over the returning rogue.
He should resist, refuse to let his emotions be toyed with—but there was something else at play, an undercurrent that pulled at him more strongly than the alpha’s command.
Nick closed the distance between himself and Sarah, aware of every breath he took, every whisper of wind that brushed against his skin.
“Go on, then, Nicky boy,” someone else jeered, but the words were distant, drowned out by the thundering beat of his pulse.
He stood before Sarah, towering over her yet feeling strangely vulnerable. Her dark hair danced lightly in the breeze, and her gaze searched his face. For a moment, they were alone in the vast desert, the pack’s presence fading into insignificance.
“Sarah,” Nick murmured, the name a soft growl that rolled off his tongue. It felt both foreign and achingly familiar. Without another thought, he leaned down, bridging the gap between duty and desire.
His lips met hers tentatively at first, a cautious brush that spoke of old wounds and the fear of reopening them. But as Sarah responded, something within Nick snapped—the dam holding back years of suppressed longing crumbled beneath the gentle pressure of her mouth.
The kiss deepened, and the world around them fell away. There was only the warmth of her lips, the sweet taste that flooded his senses, and the undeniable truth that his body remembered what his mind had tried so hard to forget.
The physical attraction that had once bound them together flared to life, reigniting with an intensity that left him breathless.
Sarah’s hands reached up, fingers tangling in the long strands of his hair, drawing him closer. Nick wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his own, each point of contact sparking memories of moonlit nights and whispers between the sheets.
Nick’s lips moved with a ferocity he hadn’t intended, the kiss deepening as if he was trying to reclaim years lost in a single moment.
The softness of Sarah’s mouth beneath his was a siren call to every raw emotion he’d kept leashed.
Powerless against the tide of desire, his caution ebbed away, replaced by a hot urgency that thrummed through his veins like fire.
Sarah’s breath hitched against his mouth in a rhythm that set his instincts ablaze too. Nick’s hands roamed the curve of her back, pulling her closer still, until no space remained between them. The desert heat was nothing compared to the burning need coursing through him.
The murmurs of the pack faded, their presence forgotten as Nick surrendered to the passion he’d denied for so long. This wasn’t just physical—each touch rekindled the protective fervor that had defined him as both man and wolf.
And though anger still simmered beneath the surface, it was momentarily eclipsed by the intensity of their connection.
“Sarah,” he whispered against her lips, a word laden with unspoken promises and smoldering resentment. But here, now, it was spoken as an incantation, invoking the bond they shared, one that neither time nor betrayal could fully sever.
Her answering moan was almost his undoing. It was a plea and a surrender all at once. Nick knew he should pull away, knew each second they remained locked in this passionate embrace only tangled their lives further—but damn it, he couldn’t stop.
His world narrowed to the taste of her, the sound of her quickened breath, the feel of her body yielding yet demanding against his own.
The kiss was no longer just a request from the pack.
It was a primal claim, an insistence that, despite everything, they were irrevocably bound.