Chapter 8 Luna
Luna
Notebook: You’re not lost. You’re just taking the scenic route. And by scenic, I mean large alphas with boundary issues and unhealthy attachments to sharp objects.
Isummon the courage to head downstairs for breakfast as their voices filled with laughter reach me inside my bedroom.
Easy. Familiar. Pack.
You can do it, Luna, I tell myself, trying to steady my racing heart.
Last night was bewildering.
I woke up in someone’s arms and instinctively hit him… hard. Yet the unsettling truth is that, for a brief moment, cocooned in warmth, I felt safe, safer than I have in years.
Rubbing my eyes, I attempt to erase the memory and the heat from my cheeks. This is what I’m here for, right? To “service” these males.
A groan escapes me.
How is this my life?
Conrad slips back into my thoughts, his handsome face twisting when he saw my scars.
The rejection still burns. Even though I vowed to bury it, it lingers.
My wolf whimpers inside me, a soft, pitiful sound that echoes through my chest. I mentally stroke her fur, whispering that we’re better off without him.
If he hadn’t rejected me, I wouldn’t be here now, surrounded by these savage males in this remote wilderness. I’d be planning a mating ceremony, instead, I’m preparing to face a pack of alphas who expect me to satisfy their “urges.”
A bitter laugh escapes my lips.
Fate has a sick sense of humor, matching me with someone like him. Maybe it’s better this way. Conrad may have been my scent match, but he wasn’t what I needed.
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. That was the past. Conrad doesn’t deserve space in my head anymore. I need to focus on the present moment and figure out how to navigate this new reality.
I throw on some clothes: yoga pants, a tee, and a hoodie. The Institute demands that females maintain a “pleasing appearance” at all times, but my small act of rebellion is showing up as I am, take it or leave it.
I open the door and tiptoe downstairs, my heart pounding with each step. The rich aroma of coffee and something savory wafts through the air, making my stomach grumble despite the nerves twisting inside me.
As I step into the kitchen, the morning conversation suddenly stops. Four pairs of eyes lock onto me with varying degrees of interest, from Axel’s wolfish grin to Damien’s barely concealed contempt.
My wolf stirs curiously.
Alpha Hudson mans the stove, flipping pancakes with the same intense focus he probably applies to everything.
A younger male sets the table. He’s lean, about my age, and slightly taller, maybe 5’10”. His auburn hair is tousled from sleep, and freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, giving him an almost boyish appearance that contrasts with the others.
Damien sits at the table, nursing a mug of coffee and ignoring my entrance. Ethan is nowhere to be seen while Axel lounges against the counter.
“Morning, wildcat. Sleep well?” He says, a wicked grin plays on his lips as his eyes meet mine, and he twirls a hatchet in his hand.
I hadn’t noticed last night, but a deep scar traces the side of his face. There’s also a slight bruise forming along his nose where my fist connected, and I can’t help but feel the flicker of satisfaction at the sight.
I shrug, focusing on pouring a cup of coffee. “Like a baby. Screaming. Thrashing. Elbowing the asshole in my bed. A+ experience.”
Axel throws his head back and laughs, a deep, resonant sound.
“Told you,” he says to the others, still chuckling. “Wildcat’s got claws.”
“And aim,” I add pointedly, nodding at his bruised nose.
This sets him off again, and to my surprise, I find the corner of my mouth twitching upward. His reaction is disarming: no anger or wounded male pride.
“Leave her be, Axel,” Alpha Hudson says.
Axel raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just being friendly.”
The younger male approaches me with a shy smile. “Hi, I’m Oliver. Oliver Stone. Everyone calls me Oli. It’s nice to meet you.” His nose twitches slightly as he speaks.
Guess he caught a whiff of my scent.
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Luna.”
“I know,” he says, then immediately looks mortified. “I mean, we all know. Not in a creepy way or anything. Just that Hudson told us you were coming and—” He stops, his nose twitching rapidly. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”
Ethan walks in, stretches, and pulls out a chair for me. I sit down, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
“So, Luna,” Alpha Hudson says, placing a stack of pancakes in the middle of the table, “Ethan and Axel will give you a tour of our place today. Show you around, let you get your bearings.”
I nod, swallowing a sip of coffee. “That sounds good. Thank you.”
“We’ll also need to discuss your role here,” he continues, his gaze intense. “Your duties and expectations.”
My stomach twists. “Right. Of course.”
Ethan reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’re not monsters.”
“Speak for yourself,” Axel says, winking at me, still twirling the hatchet.
Damien doesn’t talk with the others. He watches me. His eyes are darker today, a stormy dark gray—like he’s already decided I don’t belong here, but he still tracks my movements.
When our gazes lock, my chest tightens, my wolf whimpers, and I smile, because I’ll be damned if I let him smell fear on me. His gaze is unwavering; part of me wants to look away and submit, but another part wonders what it would take to warm those cold eyes.
I look away.
Breakfast unfolds in a blur of casual chatter and furtive glances. I pick at my food, too anxious to eat under their watchful eyes. My mind races, imagining what they might be thinking.
Afterward, Ethan and Axel guide me outside.
The crisp morning air washes over me, refreshingly contrasting the indoor tension.
We approach the pickup truck, a compact three-seater.
I climb in, only to be wedged between the two imposing males.
A startled yelp escapes my lips as Axel scoops me up and settles me onto his lap, his arms encircling me tightly.
“Axel,” Ethan warns, his tone sharp. “Let the girl go.”
“She’s mine,” Axel growls, possessiveness lacing his voice.
His chest is solid against my back, his breath warm against my ear.
“She’s all of ours. Remember? And you’re scaring her.”
Axel relaxes his grip slightly, shifting me back to the middle, but his hand clamps down on my inner thigh, firmly.
What is this guy’s deal?
He clearly has no sense of boundaries. And by “issues,” I mean a complete disregard for personal space.
With his other hand, he grips his hatchet.
Okay, maybe more than just boundary issues.
Ethan points at various things as we drive, though I remain acutely aware of Axel’s hand still gripping my thigh.
We drive the perimeter of the compound, the vast wilderness stretching out before us.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, taking in the rugged peaks and dense forests.
Ethan nods. “It is. Harsh, but beautiful. Much like life itself.”
“There are two entrances,” Ethan continues, finally drawing my attention. “A southern gate that leads to the main house and an eastern gate that leads to some cottages. We have tenants.”
“Tenants?” I echo, my brow furrowing.
“Yes,” Ethan replies. “We’re a refuge, a haven for those seeking peace, freedom, and security. Some shifters come from difficult pasts, but we help them regain their footing. In return, they work the land and assist with daily tasks. Many choose to stay in the North and build new lives nearby.”
I’m taken aback.
The idea of this place being a refuge brings a sense of relief, but also countless questions. “That is incredible,” I say.
Ethan points toward a small cluster of cottages nestled against towering pines. “Those cottages house some of our newest arrivals. They’re still getting accustomed to the freedom.”
“Freedom,” I repeat softly, the word bittersweet on my tongue, stirring something deep within. I glance at the cottages, trying to picture the stories of those who live there. What brought them here? What were they escaping?
“And what about me?” I ask hesitantly. “Am I one of your… tenants?”
Axel’s grip tightens on my thigh. “No, Wildcat. You’re special.” His voice drops to a low, almost purring tone. “You’re here for us.”
Ethan clears his throat. “What Axel means is you’re part of our inner circle.”
I nod, trying to absorb all this information.
“It’s not what you expected, is it?” Axel’s voice is low, almost tender—strange coming from him.
I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
“Give it time,” Ethan says as he steers the truck down a winding path. “This place has a way of growing on you.”
“I think you’ll fit in just fine here. You’ve got fire in you,” Axel adds, a hint of mischief in his gaze.
I can’t help but snort. “Is that what you call breaking your nose?”
He grins almost maniacally. “I like a little pain with my pleasure.”
“Axel,” Ethan chides, though amusement dances in his voice.
We drive in silence for a while. My eyes catch the eastern gate, heavily guarded like the southern one.
Are they anticipating unwanted visitors?
As I’m about to ask, Axel’s hand releases its grip and begins tracing soft circles on my thigh. He stares out the window, seemingly unaware of his touch.
This is the first time a male has laid hands on me in such a gentle way. Those soft circles feel wrong coming from someone so intimidating—and even worse, they feel good.
Heat pools within me, igniting a response I hadn’t anticipated.
Ethan takes a sharp breath; his knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel.
“You smell that, buddy? Isn’t it the best fucking scent in the world?” Axel glances at me and winks.
My eyes go wide as I realize what he’s saying.
They can smell my arousal!
Of course, they fucking can; they’re wolves.
“Let’s head back,” Ethan says tightly.
Axel throws his head back and laughs.
I want to die.