Wishes for the Wolf: Men of the Pack Book Two (Silver Moon Pack / Men of the Pack 2) Read online

  Wishes for the Wolf (Men of the Pack / Silver Moon Pack -- Book 2)

  Copyright 2017 Parker Skye

  Published by Parker Skye

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Izzy sighed in contentment as he snuggled further into the downy folds of his sleeping pallet. You would think after being tied to this stupid lamp for an untold number of centuries, that he would hate being trapped inside again. In reality, he was appreciating the break and dreaming of the possibilities in his future.

  Finishing a job always brought with it the drama of finding a new master. His previous master had been one of the wiliest Izzy had encountered, keeping him trapped for over ten years. Ten years that had felt like a hundred in that tiny backwards Alabama town. Izzy called himself lucky if he saw a full set of teeth on a weekly basis working in that motel. Having existed since what felt like the dawn of time, Izzy was used to seeing humanity at its worst, but that still didn’t mean he didn’t fully appreciate the improved dental hygiene that came with the twenty-first century.

  Horace Baker had found Izzy’s lamp at a yard sale. How cliché, right? Izzy was pretty certain his previous master had tossed him out with the trash after their fun times together ended. Unbelievably, there was no love lost between Izzy and his previous masters once their wishes ran out. Intrigued at his find, Horace had used his last five bucks to buy the lamp. When Izzy asked him why many years later, he said he just had a feeling it was going to change his life. Guess he was right.

  Once Horace got over the shock of Izzy materializing out of a cloud of smoke while trying to clean the lamp, he didn’t waste any time starting his wish requests. Horace had some weird love of roadside motels and always wanted to own one. Thus, the Hideaway Inn in Podunk, Alabama came to be.

  Horace’s next request was for his one true love to love him back. He was particularly crushed when Izzy let him know the rules of the lamp. There were only four, but they were absolute and could never be broken, no matter how much Izzy might have wanted to do otherwise.

  One, there was no wishing for more wishes. He had lost count of how many masters had tried that one; like it wasn’t the most obvious ploy in the bunch. Two, Izzy couldn’t make anyone love you, which for Horace was truly a bad deal. He was no looker, if you know what I mean. Plus, he was a grade A jerk. Izzy frankly was relieved he hadn’t cursed anyone to actually fall in love with Horace. He’d done some bad things in his life, but that would have been up there with the worst.

  Rule three was pretty simple. It was an absolute no-no for Izzy to kill anyone, even accidentally. And the fourth and final restriction, Izzy couldn’t bring anyone back to life. Dead was dead was dead. Other than that, practically anything else was free game.

  Turns out Horace had been in love with Hilda Harkins-Cross since the third grade and he just couldn’t get over her. It didn’t matter that she was married to Roger Cross and they had two grown children together, Mitsy and Sheila. Horace considered Hilda to rightfully belong with him. The first year of Izzy’s servitude was spent helping run the motel and listening to Horace bitch and whine about Hilda. It was almost a relief when Horace finally figured out a way around the second rule. In came the blonde bombshell from Savannah.

  Charlene Turlington moved to town to be the new art teacher for the local elementary school. Roger Cross just happened to be the principal at said school, getting the joy of standing in Charlene’s presence on a daily basis. Charlene was a buxom blonde with startling grey eyes and bee-stung lips. It wasn’t long before every head in town was turned her direction, Roger’s included.

  While Roger was distracted, Horace started acting the part of Hilda’s friendly shoulder to cry on. Finally realizing the simple living he made from the motel was never going to be enough to woo Hilda away from her husband, Horace made his second wish. Really, it was no surprise to Izzy. The second wish was almost always money, just the denomination changed.

  One cool million from a lucky scratch-off later and Horace had Hilda’s heart in easy reach. Nine long years later and Izzy was sick to death of watching the telenovela-quality drama that surrounded the pair. How Izzy prayed Horace would hurry up and make his final wish so their time together could come to its blessed end. But alas, Horace was a sharp player of the game and strung Izzy along like a puppet for many more years.

  Horace had run out of money around year three with Hilda. Horace was never very smart in managing his finances. Lack of monetary prosperity only added to the strain surrounding the couple. Personally, Izzy thought Horace and Hilda were made for each other. After several more years together, they both ended up being bitter and worn around the edges. Once Hilda’s grown daughters had married and moved away, the couple spent most of their time together arguing over one thing or another, having nothing else left to distract them from each other’s many faults..

  One day last week, Hilda had simply snapped. Izzy wasn’t even sure which minor offense was responsible, there were always so many. Izzy suspected it was the toilet seat being left up again that finally did it, but he guessed it didn’t really matter. Whatever the cause, it was the often-referred-to straw that broke the camel’s back.

  Hilda had thrown all her clothes into her lone suitcase and loaded it into her ancient burnt orange Subaru station wagon. Horace tried to keep her from shutting the hatchback, but Hilda had shoved him bodily aside. She even shot Horace the finger through the sunroof as she drove away, dust billowing out behind her speeding tires. Izzy had to hide in the kitchen to avoid Horace’s wrath in the aftermath. He may be a D'Jinn and thus pretty impervious to most physical sleights, but his master always had the power to cause him pain and suffering if said master felt the urge. It wouldn’t have been the first time Izzy had been on the wrong end of a master’s temper, especially Horace.

  The next few days, Izzy thought things wouldn’t really change much in the long run. Horace went on as if nothing significant had happened. He was a pretty sour guy anyway, so his general displeasure at the current situation wasn’t much different from his norm. When the sheriff showed up that final night, though, boy did the shit hit the fan.

  Izzy had just finished checking in his new favorite customers, Adam and Ben. They were so cute together. They had graciously brought along two other hotties to stay at the motel on their return trip back to Texas. Izzy had to wipe the drool off his chin whenever they all finally went off to their rooms. How could there be four of them in one place? It was like having his own personal werewolf pack to fawn over. Izzy was still staring after their fine display of perfect asses when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He ducked just in time to avoid the flying plate aimed for his head.

  “You stupid, incompetent genie! What good are you?” Horace was screaming and slinging plates in Izzy’s direction, causing Izzy to have to bob and weave.

  “Master, what the hell?!! What did I do this time?” Izzy yelled back, holding the local phone book in front of his face to shield his eyes.

  “She’s dead, you asshole. She left me and now she’s dead!” Horace crumpled into a sobbing pile. Izzy dropped the phone book and stared at his master as Horace fe
ll apart.

  “What happened?” Izzy asked dumbfounded.

  “She fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed into a tree,” Horace groaned, still inconsolable. Izzy hated this guy, truly, but he still didn’t wish for anyone to suffer like this. He crept over and put one hand on Horace’s shoulder in an offer of comfort.

  “I’m so sorry, Master,” Izzy said, sincerity evident in his sad tone. The feral look in Horace’s gaze had Izzy stepping back in self-protection.

  “No you’re not, you pathetic excuse for a genie! I wish I’d never met you!” Izzy smiled coldly, tasting his freedom in those few accidental words.

  “Your wish is my command, Master.”

  Chapter 1

  Ryan Fearborn

  After their SUV found another pothole, Ryan jerked awake and groaned. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, realizing he’d fallen asleep with his head bent forward on his chest again. He was still exhausted, with only a huge crick in his neck to show for however long he had managed to stay unconscious this time. Ben met Ryan’s eyes in the rearview mirror, his best friend obviously taking joy in his misery.

  “How’s it going back there, Ryan? You comfortable?” Ben asked sarcastically.

  “Fuck you, Benjamin. Remind me not to let you drive next time. At this pace, it’s going to be Wednesday before we make it to the state line,” Ryan replied, rolling his head side to side, trying to stretch out the kink.

  “Now, now, boys. Be nice or I’ll have to send you to your rooms without dinner,” Adam chided them both, not looking up from the game he was playing on his phone. Ryan huffed out a laugh at Adam’s teasing. The longer he got to be around Adam Harris, the more Ryan realized just how lucky his best friend had been to find such a perfect mate. Not only was he very easy on the eyes with his unruly auburn locks, bright green eyes, and tight body, but he was downright funny. After the hard life he had led before Ben came to his rescue, Ryan was always surprised at how resiliently Adam had taken life by the horns. He was making the most of his second chance it seemed and the pack was stronger for having Adam Harris as a new part of it.

  Ben chuckled as he hit another pothole, causing Ryan to groan again in pain. He was pretty sure Ben aimed for that one on purpose. Sighing in exasperation, Ryan pulled out his own phone to check how much further they had to go. Only two more hours at the most. Thank the maker.

  “Speaking of dinner, Ben, can you exit at the next place with food? I’m hungry,” Logan, Ben’s older brother, asked.

  Ryan couldn’t help the whine that sounded from his chest at even the thought of another delay. “Oh, come on, Logan. It’s only two more hours. Can’t you wait? I’m dying to get out of this car.”

  “No, I can’t. I’m hungry. Don’t be a bitch, Ryan,” Logan shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as if the case was closed just because he said so.

  “But, you’re always hungry!” Ryan continued to argue, as if it would do any good.

  “And your point is?” Logan replied, added a faint growl to his statement, asserting his dominance. Ryan relented, realizing Logan may not be THE alpha, but at the moment he was the highest ranking shifter in their group. Being the oldest and most experienced at living outside pack grounds, Alpha Leikos had put Logan in charge until their return. If Logan wanted to stop and eat, then they would stop and eat. While he would skirt the line of Logan’s leadership, even Ryan knew better than to truly challenge the lead wolf in a pack. Unless he wanted his ass handed to him in short order, Ryan had better submit. Friendships held no stead against pack hierarchy.

  Admitting he was overruled, Ryan opened up his phone again and went back to the post-apocalyptic thriller he’d been reading before he fell asleep. It had been a great read so far, very engaging and good character development. Ryan loved to read and had a hard time putting down a good book once he got started. Ryan just hoped he didn’t get car sick again this time, which was, unfortunately, his norm.

  Scant minutes later, Ben pulled the SUV off the freeway and headed for the truck stop on the horizon. Adam spouted off happily about the greasy spoon on site, pleased they didn’t have to eat gas station food again. He’d eaten enough potato chips to last him a life time, he said, and the other shifters readily agreed. While the others headed straight for the diner after parking, Ryan hung back, walking to the back of the SUV instead.

  “I’ll be there in just a minute. I need to get some aspirin for my neck,” Ryan called out. “Ben, will you order me a cheeseburger and fries?” Ben held a thumbs up over his head, his other arm wrapped firmly around Adam’s shoulders. Geez, way to be subtle, guys.

  Ryan was no homophobe and normally wouldn’t have cared at the mated pairs’ public display of affection, but you never knew what to expect in the South. They could have lucked onto the most gay-friendly diner this side of the Mason-Dixon Line, but they were much more likely to have found the usual backwards redneck hotbed that dotted the rest of the South. While Ryan was certain a pack of werewolf shifters were more than capable of defending themselves against a bunch of gap-toothed bigots, he didn’t think it was a bright idea to draw unneeded attention to themselves.

  Ryan dug his duffle bag out from the bottom of the stack of luggage, having to force several bags back into the trunk when they tried to escape with his own. He unzipped his bag and began to dig around blindly for his dopp kit. Ryan knew he’d packed some aspirin somewhere. Getting a headache and car sick on long trips was nothing unusual for Ryan and he prided himself on always being prepared.

  Ryan’s dad was one of the Betas in charge of their pack’s security and had drilled into Ryan on a daily basis the importance of organizational planning. Ryan couldn’t remember a single day that his father failed to impart some wisdom about responsibility and self-reliance, expecting Ryan would one day be a valuable member of his security team. Ryan had learned well and hoped to do his father proud on this trip, his first away mission.

  Failing to find the aspirin in his dopp kit, Ryan resorted to digging around his rolled up clothing, trying not to make too much of a mess. Something metallic and warm brushed his fingertips and he pulled his hand back in surprise.

  “What the hell? Did someone put a gun in my bag?” he thought to himself, now pulling out stacks of clothes and setting them to the side. He needed to find out what was hiding at the bottom of his duffel. While some pack members kept personal firearms, Ryan didn’t and he would be surprised to find any of his friends carrying either. When the bag was halfway empty, he finally located the responsible object. The sight before him which more confusion than fear.

  The magic lamp was obviously a replica and was in sad condition. The mouth of the lamp was partially crushed and there was an overall patina of age and disuse. The lamp looked greasy it was so dirty. Ryan looked around the parking lot, half expecting one of the others to walk up and claim the item as theirs. He honestly had no clue how the lamp had gotten into his bag. Looking closer, he thought he saw something engraved on the side, but he couldn’t be sure with all the dirt. He used the light from the restaurant window to highlight the lamp’s details and rubbed over what he thought were letters, trying to make the engraving more clear.

  Instantly the lamp heated up to the point that continuing to hold it was too painful. Ryan dropped the lamp to the asphalt and stepped back, watching as smoke began to pour out of the bent spigot. When the smoke cleared, Ryan was fairly certain he’d been transported into the Twilight Zone.

  Chapter 2

  Izzy

  “Well, hello there, Master,” Izzy said with a wink. “I was hoping it would be you. My name’s Izzy, in case you don’t remember from our meeting at the motel.”

  Ryan stood, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, stunned at the sight before him. Once he shook his brain free, he looked around as if expecting the cast of Punked to jump out with cameras at any moment. “But, you’re here. But, you were there. How…?” was all Ryan seemed capable of saying at the moment.

&n
bsp; Izzy smiled and took pity on his new master. “Its okay, Master. I’ll explain everything later, but can we go eat? I’m starved. I’m always hungry when I first get released,” Izzy said, grabbing Ryan’s arm and turning him towards the diner. Ryan looked over at the man? Beside him and just nodded, his brain refusing to make full sentences yet. Izzy led them both into the diner and greeted the hostess with his most awe-inspiring smile.

  “We’re meeting that group over there,” Izzy commented, nodding his head in the general direction of the rest of Ryan’s pack. “But we’ll need another chair,” Izzy added, noticing they had been seated at a table for four. The hostess just nodded dumbly, obviously taking a moment to digest the sight before her. Not only were the other four all stunning examples of the perfect male form, but Izzy was a true enigma to behold.

  His platinum blonde hair was spiked in wild disarray and looked like he just climbed out of bed. His eyes were a bright unnatural violet that seemed to sparkle with electricity, especially given the dark brows that framed them. The small silver hoop piercing his lower lip was nothing compared to the four studs in each ear and the silver bar through the outer edge of his right eyebrow. Izzy had more jewelry in his face than most women wore on their entire body.

  Izzy cleared his throat in an effort to cease the girl’s staring. She blinked several times in succession like she was waking up from a spell. “Um, sure, no problem,” she mumbled and gathered a chair from an empty table. None of the others had looked up from their menus yet, temporarily unaware of the addition to their party.

  “Here you go. Now, what can I get you boys to drink?” the hostess asked, slipping into a thick Southern drawl. Izzy looked again at Ryan who stared back silently, golden eyes still wide in residual shock. Izzy shook Ryan’s arm none too gently but still got no response outside of the vacant blank stare. Izzy looked back at the hostess and smiled another confident smile, flicking the hoop in his lower lip with his right index finger as he spoke.