Chapter 14 Luna
Luna
Notebook: Normal is relative. Some males murder pillows at dawn. Others take you shopping and buy you fuzzy socks. Also, who knew wolves could do zoomies?
“What the actual hell is Axel doing?” I stop dead in my tracks, watching the spectacle unfold on the front lawn.
Axel, bare-chested in the morning sun, is attacking what looks like my bedroom pillow with a hatchet. Each swing is more violent than the last, sending feathers flying everywhere like a bizarre snowstorm.
Ethan sighs beside me. “He’s been at it for twenty minutes now. Something about revenge and wood chippers.”
Oli’s nose twitches rapidly as he stifles a laugh. “The pillow apparently committed some grave offense. He was muttering about ‘unfair competition’ earlier.”
“Should we be concerned?” I ask, genuinely worried as Axel lets out a triumphant howl after a particularly vicious strike splits the pillow completely in half.
“With Axel? Always,” Ethan says with a shrug. “But this is relatively tame for him.”
“He slept in my bed again, didn’t he?” I sigh, already knowing the answer. My wolf gives a pleased little rumble that I promptly ignore.
Traitor.
“Probably,” Oli says, his dimples appearing as he grins. “He’s been sneaking in there almost every night. Hudson keeps punishing him, but—”
“But punishment just encourages him,” Ethan finishes, shaking his head. “Anyway, we should get going if we want to make it to the city and back before dark.”
Axel spots us and grins maniacally, waving his hatchet. “Morning, Wildcat! Just taking care of some unfinished business!”
“With my pillow?” I call back, raising an eyebrow.
“It knew what it did!” he shouts, then returns to his massacre with renewed vigor.
Ethan gently holds my shoulder, steering me toward the truck. “Trust me, it’s better not to ask.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re on the highway, me sandwiched between Ethan and Oli in the pickup truck.
“So,” I say, trying to distract myself from the heat of Ethan’s thigh pressed against mine, “how far is this place anyway?”
“About three hours,” Ethan replies, eyes on the road. “It’s a human district, but it’s the closest place with decent stores. There’s a small village 20 minutes away from the compound, but it doesn’t have what we need.”
My stomach flutters with excitement. I haven’t left the compound since I arrived. “We’re really going shopping? Like, in an actual store?”
“Yep.” Oli nods enthusiastically. “Monthly supply run. Plus, they have a Target.” He says the word ‘Target’ with such reverence that I can’t help but smile.
“What’s so special about Target?”
Oli gasps as if I’ve just asked what’s so special about oxygen. “What’s so special about—? It’s only the greatest store ever created! They have everything. And Hudson says you need clothes.”
I look down at my current outfit—old leggings and yet another of Axel’s T-shirts. “I guess I can’t keep stealing Axel’s clothes for the next three years.”
“Axel doesn’t mind,” Oli says with a knowing smirk. “He practically preens when you wear his stuff.”
I nod, watching the dense forest roll by.
We’ve been driving for nearly an hour, and I haven’t seen another vehicle or building—just miles of wilderness and the occasional dirt road disappearing into the trees.
“This is really the middle of nowhere, huh?” I muse.
Oli grins. “That’s kind of the point. Privacy.”
“For what exactly?” I ask, then immediately regret it when Oli wags his eyebrows suggestively.
“Well, when a male and a female—”
“I meant the pack,” I interrupt, feeling my cheeks heat. “Why choose somewhere so isolated?”
Ethan glances at me, “Safety, mostly. The same laws don’t govern shifters here; we’re more… independent.”
“What does that mean exactly?” I ask, curiously.
Ethan’s fingers drum against the steering wheel. “It means we make our own rules. No Alpha President dictatorship.” His voice drops slightly. “You’ll find out more soon enough.”
But before I can press for details, Oli interrupts.
“Tell her how you all met!” he exclaims, bouncing slightly in his seat. “Ethan tells the best stories.”
I nod eagerly. “Actually, yeah. How did you all end up together?”
Ethan chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “We all grew up together, on the same street, actually. A small shifter neighborhood in the south. Hudson’s family was well-respected—his father held a prominent position in the community.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I was the weird kid,” Ethan admits with a self-deprecating laugh. “Korean mom, no dad in the picture. Brought kimchi and kimbap to school when everyone else had sandwiches. Got teased a lot for that.”
“That’s awful,” I say, frowning.
He shrugs. “Kids can be cruel. But Hudson, Axel, and Damien never cared about that stuff. They saw another wolf who could run fast and climb trees better than anyone else.”
Oli leans forward. “Damien and I lived a few houses down from Hudson. I was always tagging behind them, even though I was too young to keep up.”
“And Damien let you?” I ask, imagining the surly male being patient with a younger sibling.
Oli snorts. “Are you kidding? He was the most overprotective brother ever. Still is. If I scraped my knee, he’d threaten to tear apart whoever owned the ground I fell on.”
I try to picture a younger, less brooding Damien, standing guard over little Oli. It’s hard to reconcile with the hostile male who can barely stand to look at me.
“It’s hard to picture Damien caring about anyone,” I admit.
“He wasn’t always like this,” Ethan says quietly. “There was a time when—”
“Look!” Oli interrupts, pointing excitedly through the windshield. “Civilization!”
I follow Oli’s pointing finger and see buildings on the horizon. My heart races with excitement as we approach the outskirts of what looks like a decent-sized town. After weeks in the wilderness, even these ordinary strip malls and gas stations seem fascinating.
“Welcome to civilization,” Ethan says with a smile. “First stop, grocery store.”
The parking lot is half-full as Ethan pulls into a space near the entrance. I hop out, stretching my legs after the long drive. The air here smells different—less pine and earth, more exhaust and concrete.
After hours in the truck, the fluorescent lights inside make me blink. Oli grabs a cart and immediately starts racing down the first aisle, throwing items in with childlike enthusiasm.
“Is he always like this?” I ask Ethan, watching Oli examine cereal boxes as if they contain the universe’s secrets.
“Shopping days are his favorite,” Ethan explains, pulling out a list from his pocket.
“Can I get these?” Oli holds up a box of sugary cereal shaped like tiny animals. “Please?”
“Put them back,” Ethan says automatically. “Hudson said no more sugar after what happened last time.”
“What happened last time?” I ask.
Ethan and Oli exchange a look.
“He ate three boxes in one sitting,” Ethan explains, “then shifted and did zoomies around the house for six hours straight.”
I burst out laughing, picturing the scene.
“Just one box?” Oli pleads, his nose twitching rapidly—a sure sign of excitement.
I glance at Ethan, who’s trying to maintain his stern expression but failing miserably. “One box?” I suggest. “I’ll help him eat it so he doesn’t go overboard.”
Oli’s face lights up like I’ve just offered him the moon. “Deal!”
Ethan shakes his head, but places the cereal in the cart. “You’re going to regret enabling him,” he warns me.
We continue through the store, filling the cart with essentials. I’m amazed at the quantity—enough food to feed a small army, or in this case, five hungry male shifters and me.
We move through the aisles methodically, Oli tossing items into the cart with childlike enthusiasm while Ethan checks things off his list. I trail behind them, reveling in the simple normalcy of grocery shopping.
Once the groceries are loaded in the truck and stored in coolers, we head to Target. Oli practically vibrates with excitement as we enter.
“Okay, Luna,” Ethan says, “Get whatever you need—clothes, toiletries, anything. Don’t worry about the price.”
“I can’t—”
But Ethan cuts me firmly. “It’s not charity, Luna. It’s pack taking care of pack.”
Those words again. Pack. Like I belong with them.
“Fine,” I relent. “But I’m getting the basics, nothing fancy.”
Two hours later, I’ve completely abandoned that resolution. My cart is filled with jeans, leggings, sweaters, T-shirts, pajamas, and underwear—lots of underwear.
We spend another hour wandering through the store, adding random items to our haul—a sketchbook and colored pencils that Ethan insists I need when I linger too long in the art section, fuzzy socks that Oli declares “essential,” and a small potted succulent that I can’t resist.
By the time we’re done, the truck is packed to capacity.
The drive back is quieter. Oli dozes against my shoulder, his breath coming in soft snores. I find myself leaning against Ethan as the day’s excitement catches up.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “For today. For everything.”
Ethan glances at me, the fading sunlight catching in his dark eyes. “You don’t have to thank me, Luna.”
“I do, though. You’ve all been…” I struggle to find the right words. “Kinder than I expected.”
His lips quirk in a half-smile. “We’re happy you’re here, Luna.”
He reaches over, his hand finding mine. We stay connected for the remainder of the drive.
Best day ever.