Chapter 9
Nine
L una dragged her finger in a lazy circle through Oliver’s chest hair, humming contentedly. She was sore and satisfied and warmer than she had been in days. They’d had sex twice more after the knot finally went down—until she’d lost count of how many times she’d come, and the bedframe was scored with scratches from Oliver digging his claws in.
She looked up to watch Oliver’s sleeping face. There were no tired bags under his eyes, no wrinkle in his brow. His face was smooth, utterly relaxed. Luna bet the guy hadn’t been this relaxed since the mysterious incident last year that made them all move here. It made her oddly happy. The guy was so pent up, and he deserved some stress relief. Especially if it came in the form of making Luna incoherent with pleasure.
Oliver let out a sleepy grunt. “Quit it. Tickles.”
Luna circled her finger around his nipple.
Oliver squirmed, cracking one eye open to glare half-heartedly at her.
Luna grinned. “Sorry. Got bored.”
“Y’r like a golden retriever,” he muttered. His head tilted sideways, lips brushing her forehead. He was half in a dream. Luna could almost feel the edges of it in her mind. Hazy and dark, lit up by flickers of flame. A woman with dark hair and a bright smile?—
“Don’t,” Oliver snapped.
Luna startled. She’d gone deeper into him than she’d meant to.
“Sorry,” she said as Oliver struggled underneath her. “I didn’t mean to. The bond?—”
He sat up, shoulders tight. There was nothing half-hearted about his glare this time.
“Don’t,” he said, softer. “If the bond lets us in too deep, we block it. Got it? Some things are private.”
“Totally,” Luna agreed. She dragged a hand through her sweaty hair, shaken. Who was that? Whoever it was, it had triggered horrible feelings. Maybe he’d left a bad relationship back in Arizona.
She could still feel his emotions, barely-there echoes of guilt and anger. She shoved up a mental block until they faded into nothing. No more Oliver leaking through the bond.
A heavy knock made them both jerk.
Oliver frowned. “Is it dinner already?”
Luna checked the clock on the bedside table. “Yeah. Wow. Guess we really tired each other out.”
Oliver made a sleepy noise of agreement and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, only dropping his hand to give her a sideways look. “When you say you’re telling your fiancé about this… He doesn’t get details , right?”
Luna laughed, shooting up to dig her chin into his shoulder. “Why, are you into that?”
“ No ,” he said flatly.
Right , Luna thought. Possessive . Even if he only had her until the snow thawed.
The knock came again, loud and insistent. Luna wondered why they were knocking so loud, then remembered the soundproofing.
Oliver gave her arm another unhappy look and climbed out of bed to search for his pants.
“We eat dinners together,” he said as he pulled his boxers on. “You don’t have to come.”
Luna leaned on the bedframe, admiring the pronounced curve of his ass as they vanished under his boxers. “Am I invited?”
Oliver made a face like she was, and he was exasperated about it.
“Then I’ll come,” Luna said.
It didn’t occur to her to be nervous until she was heading down the hallway with him. What was she doing? She’d spent the day in his room. Even if they didn’t know, they could smell him on her, right? They knew she had a fiancé. What was she supposed to do, blurt out their arrangement right there at the dinner table ?
It didn’t help that Oliver looked just as nervous as her, shoulders getting higher and higher with each step.
“You really don’t have to,” Oliver said as they reached the common room door. “My family can be… a lot.”
Before Luna could remind him that she was fully aware, the door swung open.
Vida stopped, her headphones clamped securely over both ears. She turned back toward the bustling common room and yelled, “Never mind! They’re here!”
“You don’t need to yell,” Oliver reminded her.
She gave him a droll look only achievable by disdainful teenagers.
“Whatever,” she said and paused. She gave a small, almost subtle sniff. Then she looked at Luna with such a smug, knowing look that Luna’s heart sank.
She definitely smelled it.
“Whatever,” Vida said again, ducking her head to hide a shy grin. Then she fled back to the crowded table.
Everyone had already taken their seats: the kids clumping together, with Vida joining an argument involving Leo, who tried to slide his broccoli onto a complaining Darren’s plate. The aunts were next to them, deep in conversation. Then Ben and Sabine, with Ben plucking an eyelash off Sabine’s scarred cheek. Uncle Roy had pulled his chair away, surveying the scene with a scowl. One hand kept drifting up to his chin, scratching his burn mark. It looked old—much older than Sabine’s slashing scar. Like he’d gotten it when he was very young.
Grandmother Musgrove sat at the head, cutting her steak into tiny squares. She looked up, waving a graceful hand at the two empty chairs beside her.
“Come and sit.”
Luna followed Oliver to their seats, wishing she’d put on deodorant. It might not have covered up the Oliver stink that everyone was obviously smelling, but it may have covered up some of the nervous sweat as she sat down. They were next to each other, tucked in so tight that their legs and elbows brushed.
“Sorry,” Oliver said, pulling his leg and elbow in so he wasn’t touching her. Pretty rich for a guy who had been inside her multiple times today. He looked out at the table, which was heavy with food. “You could’ve come to get me. I would’ve helped.”
“We decided to let you have the night off,” Ben said, flicking his wife’s eyelash off his finger. He looked considerably less smug than Vida, who kept sneaking glances at Luna and stifling a giggle.
“You seemed busy,” Sabine added. She was smiling, but she looked confused.
Everyone was smiling, Luna noticed. Smiling and looking at each other, all conspiratorial and smug. Even Leo and Darren had picked up on something, sniffing the air once they noticed all the adults acting weird. Leo let out an amused snort, averting his eyes. Darren just kept sniffing, cocking his head at Luna in bafflement.
Grandmother Musgrove asked, “How was your first proper day in Claw Haven, Luna?”
“Great,” Luna said, as bright as she could muster. “Oh, that reminds me! My fiancé wants to thank you guys for being so nice. I’ve been telling him everything that’s been going on, and he’s super happy with it. Super happy.”
Ben’s eyebrows hit his forehead. “Huh. To each their own, I?—”
He cut off with a grunt like someone had kicked him under the table. Luna couldn’t tell if it was Sabine or Oliver, the former looking at him far too innocently and the latter glowering at him almost as hard as Uncle Roy was glowering at Luna
Luna flashed Uncle Roy her prettiest smile. Uncle Roy’s eyes narrowed, digging one sharp thumbnail into the old burn mark on his chin.
Yikes . Luna looked down at her plate instead. Medium-rare steak, a salad that was mostly lettuce, a bread bun, and a dollop of buttery mashed potato. A little boring, but Luna was starving, and she doubted there were many Uber Eats options in a town this small.
She picked up her fork.
Grandmother Musgrove cleared her throat.
Luna looked up. Everybody was holding hands, even glaring Uncle Roy. Grandmother Musgrove held out a hand on one side of her. Oliver sat stiffly on the other side, hands on his lap.
“She doesn’t have to,” Oliver said.
Luna rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. She wasn’t a grace kind of girl, but when in Rome.
Grandmother Musgrove nodded at Leo. “When you’re ready.”
Leo sucked in a big breath. “Thank you, everybody, who made our food tonight. It isn’t chicken like I wanted, but I guess I’m grateful anyway. Thanks, everyone.” Then he blinked, looking over at Oliver. “Wait, you weren’t here. Thanks, everybody but Oliver. And hello to our temporary pack member, Luna. You’re very pretty and sophisticated.”
Luna giggled. “Wow. Thank you. You’re pretty too. I love your truck shirt—so chic.”
“Thanks!” Leo beamed at her, then looked across the table toward his parents. “Can we eat now?”
“Yes,” said Sabine, who had been hiding a smile since he berated them for not cooking chicken. “We can eat now.”
Everyone at the table lapsed back into chatter. Luna ate her boring food and tried to remember the last time she’d had a homemade family dinner. She didn’t think she ever had. They were a takeout family who ate in their separate rooms. The Stacks went out to restaurants sometimes, but only for birthdays and the occasional business milestone celebration. Hector once mentioned that it was strange that such a fun-loving family didn’t bother getting together much. Luna didn’t think so. They all had their own parties to attend.
Oliver rarely spoke. His family tried to drag him into conversations. Leo asked about a movie they watched last week, and Ben goaded him about some embarrassing moment from high school involving a wardrobe malfunction during football. But each time one of his family members spoke to him, he’d give them a one-word answer and shut it down. He kept tensing up whenever Luna leaned to grab more salad or reached for her water glass. It was a strange tenseness. Like his body wanted him to relax, but his mind wanted the opposite. Like he still thought she was a threat.
Luna couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she’d been bound to him last year when he wasn’t so closed off. It was probably good he wasn’t more open, she considered as she ate her terrible salad. If he actually let her in, she might feel something more than physical. Something that had nothing to do with the bond tying them together. Then she’d really be screwed.
“So, Luna,” Sabine said, cutting through a steak that was noticeably less cooked than Luna’s. All of them were, now that she looked closely. “What do you do?”
Luna tried to remember her official role at her dad’s company.
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” she said with a smirk. Then, because she would be out of here soon and was still riding the high from earlier, “And I do a little marketing.”
“That sounds fun,” Sabine said, with the polite eagerness of someone who had no idea what that entailed. “What’s that like?”
“ So fun,” Luna gushed. “Don’t tell anybody, but I was the one who designed that little logo on our most recent rebranding. Logos are very important.”
She looked over at Oliver, who was watching her with a dry expression that meant he remembered her sign outburst in the lobby.
“I’ll bet,” he said.
Darren picked a piece of meat out from between his buck teeth and asked, “Uncle Ollie, can we still go to the movies this weekend?”
“Uncle Ollie ,” Luna whispered, delighted.
He gave her another exasperated look.
“Sure,” Oliver said. Then he paused, fork scraping to a stop against his plate. “Uh, Luna will have to come.”
“Duh,” Darren said, like he was offended Oliver thought he had to be reminded. “ I pay attention in wolf lessons.”
“The bottle wasn’t supposed to be in the back office,” Oliver argued. “And I’ve never seen it when it wasn’t covered in flowers! It looked different!”
Darren rolled his eyes. “Ooookay, Uncle Ollie.”
“ I would never accidentally drink the bond nectar,” Vida muttered beside him. She still had her headphones on, though she’d relegated them to her neck at her mother’s request.
Luna looked over at Grandmother Musgrove. “Wolf lessons?”
She nodded. “Every second Saturday from the ages of five to thirteen, we get the children together and tell them of our history—Musgrove, of course, but also wolf. Family stories, rituals. What they should expect as they grow.”
“Aw! That’s sweet.” Luna beamed around the table. “You guys are so nice. I always heard werewolves were all, like, rowr! with each other.”
The table fell silent. Everybody looked at each other.
“Not, like…” Luna giggled nervously, making a cl awing motion with her manicured hand. “Not, like, bad . Just… rowr! You know?”
“We can be,” Uncle Roy said gruffly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Roy.” Aunt Barney took a napkin out of one of her million pockets and dabbed at her mouth. “Some of us are, dear. Just like any family.”
“What are yours like?” Aunt Althea asked, gold fang flashing as she spoke. She tucked her hand into a fake claw. “Are they rowr ?”
“We’re rowr-dy,” Luna said. It got her a decent laugh. “Yeah, we have tons of fun. We don’t do family dinners, though. This is so cute!” She gave them another smile, extra-bright to make up for the awkwardness. One lesson she learned young: if you acted cute enough, people let you get away with anything.
She snuck a glance at Oliver. He was chewing slowly, ignoring Ben who was trying to make pointed eye contact with him from across the table.
Sabine asked, “Are you close?”
“I mean… We work together, technically.” Luna poked at a stray piece of tomato, wondering why she felt so exposed. She talked about her family all the time at charity events. It was what everyone knew her for. Luna Stack, daughter of Henry Stack, who liked to introduce herself. Then they’d ask how he was, and she’d say he was great, even if they hadn’t talked in months. Which happened often enough. Not on purpose, obviously. They were just busy with their own awesome lives.
“Everyone has their own things going on,” Luna continued. She busied herself with sliding more salad onto her fork, feeling weirdly exposed. The Musgroves lived together and plaited each other’s hair, and they went to the movies and ate dinner together every night. And Luna couldn’t be bothered driving forty minutes to her parents' place. Last year, she’d been in the neighborhood for a hen’s party and dropped in to say hi. Their first question when they saw her in the foyer was what are you doing here? Did something happen?
She watched Darren poke his big sister with a fork. Vida poked him back, scowling. It made Luna miss her own little brother, which was weird. She didn’t usually miss her brother. She didn’t miss her family, period—until she started watching the way the Musgroves fit together.
Luna gave her the biggest smile she could manage. Nobody knew she had designed that logo. Her dad had laughed in her face when she admitted she wanted to work in graphic design and marketing.
Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’d told her. He wouldn’t be happy if he found out she was “meddling,” as he called it whenever she tried to have a say in the company he’d built.
“Totally,” Luna said. “Um, thank… thank you.”
Leo spoke up. “Hey Grandma, is Uncle Ollie gonna be alpha this year?”
The table went silent again. Oliver’s grip went white around his fork, then forcibly relaxed. He didn’t look up at Grandmother Musgrove, who looked up from her steak to give Leo a warm smile.
“Maybe next year,” she said .
“But you said that last year,” Leo pointed out. He gave Darren a knowing look, who frowned back at him like he was annoyed at Leo for saying it.
Sabine cleared her throat. “I like your hair, Aunt Althea. New beads?”
Aunt Althea gasped, holding up the beads she’d woven into her hair.
Luna stared at Oliver. He was nodding blankly, barely pretending to be interested as the others admired Aunt Althea’s hair. Luna always assumed somebody had to die to replace an alpha. Was it just like handing over a job? Had he been on track to be alpha, then something happened to make her change her mind? Everybody had gone silent, so what was the story there?
Darren shoved the last piece of broccoli on his plate and stood.
“Chocolate time,” he announced, heading over to a drawer and emerging with a paper bag that Luna had been holding only a few hours ago.
“That’s for guests, honey,” Aunt Althea reminded him.
Darren pouted. “But Uncle Ollie ate them!”
“We can buy more tomorrow,” Grandmother Musgrove said. “It would be nice to support local.”
Darren ran around the table, distributing wolf chocolates.
“Oh, I love these,” Luna gushed as Darren handed her one. “Beth gave me another sample when I was in town before. She’s adorable, and her chocolates are delish .”
“She’s a wonderful chocolatier,” Grandmother Musgrove agreed. “It’s a shame she might not be able to keep that store open.”
“What?” Luna asked. “Why?”
“Not enough tourists,” Ben explained.
Oliver shifted in his seat, careful not to let his elbow skim Luna’s. Luna thought back to what he’d yelled at her about wanting the inn to close, then what he’d said later on the couch. Safe harbor.
“This place should be crawling with tourists,” Luna said. “You guys have mountains; you guys have a beautiful ocean view. Throw in the monster schtick, and you have a hook!”
“ Claw Haven ,” the kids chorused. Even Vida, though her tone was heavy with sarcasm. “ For the monster who wants some peace and quiet!”
Luna clapped. “Exactly! You can totally capitalize on that.”
Luna rolled the wolf chocolate in her hands, feeling the wolf’s rounded muzzle. An idea was brewing; she could feel the images coming together the way they always did before she reached for her secret sketchbook.
“About your new sign,” Luna said. “I could design it. Free of charge.”
Another series of looks got traded around the table.
Luna tucked her hair behind her ears self-consciously. “It’s no big deal. You are letting me stay here for free.”
“Because I pass out if you leave,” Oliver said.
She cocked her head at him. “Is that a ‘no’? ”
Grandmother Musgrove spoke up. “That would be lovely, Luna. I look forward to seeing it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” Luna popped the chocolate wolf in her mouth and beamed.
Fondness pulsed through her, fast and reluctant. It took Luna a second to realize it wasn’t her own. She looked over at Oliver, surprised.
He wasn’t looking at her. All his limbs were pulled in tight so he wouldn’t touch her, eyes on his plate. For a second, Luna thought she might have imagined it. Then his mouth twitched, and Luna caught the faintest echo of fondness once more.
She averted her eyes. She’d promised she wouldn’t pry. She didn’t want him messing around in her head as much as he didn’t want her in his. She chewed her chocolate, and the next time she caught the echo of an emotion—annoyance at Uncle Roy’s opinion on the movie they watched last night—Luna blocked it out.