Black Moon (Alpha Pack #3) - J.D.Tyler Page 0,1

said, touching the cool metal object. It was a silver pentagram pendant about the size of a silver dollar, attached to a matching chain. Excited, he lifted the necklace and studied the swirling design etched into the pendant. “A Sorcerer’s amulet?”

“Exactly.”

“Awesome! This is mine?”

“Yes. It’s been in my family for generations. The story goes that it was blessed by Druid priests to protect the wearer from all harm, no matter how great the source of evil.” Again she hesitated, a shadow of sadness in her blue eyes. “It would’ve been your mother’s, but she didn’t inherit the gift. And then she married your father and he turned her mind against the arts and eventually against you. . . . Well, it doesn’t matter now. It’s yours. Perhaps I should’ve given it to you already, but I thought you were too young to understand the responsibility of owning it. Of taking good care of it.”

And she’d given it to him today because she was running out of precious time.

The pendant shook in Kalen’s grasp. “So I just wear it? That’s all?”

“Wear it and never take it off, Kalen.” Her bony fingers grasped his knee. “Not to shower, to sleep, to play ball or ride bikes. Not for any reason, ever. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he croaked. Fumbling with the clasp, he lifted the necklace, reached behind his neck, and fastened it after a couple of tries. “There. Mission accomplished. I’m safe from all the creepaziods in the world.” He tried a cheeky grin, hoping to lighten things up.

Grandma returned his smile, and though the shadows in her eyes remained, she seemed happy enough now. “That you are, little hellion. Run along and join your friends,” she said with a throaty laugh. “You’re practically vibrating with impatience.”

Leaping to his feet, Kalen grabbed the box and gave his grandma a quick kiss as she rose. “Thanks! I promise not to take it off!”

The heavy visit at an end, he once again looked forward to his Saturday and all the promise it held. Jogging to the front door, he yanked it open. And suddenly stopped. Turning, he faced the woman he loved more than anyone on earth, hurried back to her, and impulsively threw his arms around her middle. Hugged her close and breathed in her sweet scent.

“I love you, Grandma.”

“I love you so much, my boy. Always will.” She kissed the top of his head. “Go on now, have fun. The day is wasting!”

Grinning at her, he turned and dashed out, down the porch steps, his heart light. He’d think about the bad stuff later. Everything would be cool. Right?

It might have been. If only he’d kept his promise.

And if only he’d known that the lingering warmth of her love, enveloping him like a cozy blanket as he pedaled away, would have to last him for the rest of his life.

One

Kalen Black stood apart from his team, awash in guilt. Impotent in his shame.

Right this second the Alpha Pack’s beloved resident Fae prince, Sariel, might by dying. On top of that, Aric Savage’s mate had nearly been killed a short while ago by the witch Beryl before Aric ripped out Beryl’s throat, thereby putting an end to any information they might have gained from her.

The danger surrounding them all increased daily. Hourly. A traitor walked among Kalen’s friends and colleagues, slowly drowning in the darkness clogging his lungs. Overtaking his soul.

And it’s all my fucking fault . . . because the traitor is me.

As Aric tended to Rowan and the prince was rushed to the infirmary, Kalen hung his head. He tried to find comfort in the fact that Aric’s mate was all right, but it didn’t work. Then he wanted the earth to swallow him when Nick Westfall, the Pack’s commander, ushered everyone into the conference room and demanded to know, “How the fuck did Beryl get out of Block T?”

“I let her out.” His voice caught. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“Why? Did she seduce you, or was it Malik?”

Kalen died a thousand deaths during the questions that followed his confession and the truthful answers he supplied. In Kalen’s wretched lifetime he’d suffered abuse and humiliation. Isolation. Starvation. More horrors than most people ever had to face.

But none of those were worse than almost achieving his dreams of a home, a job, a family of sorts, and most of all, acceptance among those who were as different as himself. Almost. Before Malik, king of the Unseelie and Sariel’s evil sire, decided