Page 6 of Moonlight & Mayhem

"I missed something,” Moon said again.

"And you're going to figure out what it is," Tempest said with absolute certainty. That was the problem—everyone believed Moon could fix everything. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep proving them right.

Mayhem groaned, and Moon immediately returned her attention to him. "I'm going to take blood."

"Do whatever you need,” he said. She prepared the collection tubes, but Mayhem caught her hand again before she could begin. His grip was weaker now. "Don't leave me." Moon stared at him, not sure what to say.

Tempest stared at both of them, and Moon could practically hear the questions forming in her friend's mind. "Mayhem," she whispered.

"Please." That word didn't belong in Mayhem's mouth. She doubted he used it often. His wolf stared at her from behind his eyes, and Moon's own wolf pushed against her skin. Mate. The recognition was stronger now—almost impossible to ignore.

Moon slowly curled her fingers around his. "I'm not going anywhere." His eyes closed, and his heart rate immediately began to slow.

Tempest's eyebrows rose, but Moon refused to look at her. "Not one word,” Moon whispered.

"I didn't say anything,” Tempest said.

"You were going to,” Moon spat.

"Oh, I absolutely was,” Tempest agreed.

"Tempest—” Moon started, but her Prez held up both hands.

"Later,” Tempest insisted.

Moon drew Mayhem's blood and carried the samples into the adjoining lab. Tempest followed her, shutting the door behind them. "Call Howler," Moon said.

"I already did. He's on his way,” Tempest admitted.

"Good. I need to know everything Howler remembers about the attack,” Moon said.

"What are you thinking?"

Moon stared at the vial of unnaturally dark blood in her hand. "I think they poisoned him."

"With what?" Tempest asked.

"That's what scares me." She placed a drop beneath the microscope and adjusted the focus. Her stomach dropped. There were particles in his blood—not silver, but something black twisted among the cells like threads. Whatever it was seemed to be alive.

Moon stumbled backward. "What?" Tempest demanded.

Moon looked up at her Prez. "We need to lock down the clubhouse."

Tempest's entire demeanor changed as she turned from Prez to predator. "What did you find?"

Moon looked through the microscope again, and the substance moved. Her wolf recoiled as though knowing it was dangerous—whatever it was. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it's alive."

Silence filled the room, and Tempest stared at her. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"I don't know yet,” Moon admitted. A roar erupted from the trauma room, and Moon spun toward the door, running toward Mayhem. He was halfway off the table when she reached him.

"Mayhem!" she shouted. He collapsed against her and Moon barely managed to catch him. His face buried against her neck, his breath burning across her skin. "Easy,” she soothed.

"Can't—" he choked.

"Can't what?" she asked.

"Can’t control him,” he growled. She knew that he was talking about his wolf. Moon felt the animal pushing against his skin as fur appeared along his arms before disappearing again. His body was trying to shift, and the poison was fighting it.