Chapter 18 Luna #2
The bunny’s ears twitch at Damien’s name, and I could swear it gives a tiny huff of… what? Agreement? Ridiculous.
“You probably don’t like him either, huh?” I ask, scratching gently between its ears. “He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.”
The bunny twitches its nose rapidly and presses closer to my hand as if confirming my words.
I run my fingers through the bunny’s fur, feeling the delicate bones beneath, the quick pulse of life. So small, so vulnerable. Like me, when I first arrived here, though I’d die before admitting that to anyone.
“I’m not supposed to be here, you know,” I confide. “I owe a debt to Hudson. I was rejected…” I trail off, then shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m as out of place as you are. That is until I can pay what I owe and get out.”
The bunny lifts its head, those eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that makes me pause.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mutter, glancing away. “I’m not staying. This isn’t my home; these aren’t my people. I don’t belong here.”
The bunny shifts, placing one tiny paw against my cheek in what feels unmistakably like a gesture of comfort.
My throat tightens again, and I swallow hard.
“You’re pretty smart for something so small,” I whisper, gently nudging its paw away. “But trust me, I’m not worth getting attached to. I’m temporary. Just passing through.”
The bunny makes a small sound—almost a grunt of disagreement—and burrows against my neck. Its fur tickles my skin, and I can’t help the small smile that curves my lips.
“Stubborn, too. You remind me of—” I stop, surprised by the comparison that springs to mind. “You actually remind me of Oli. He’s got that same look sometimes, like he sees right through all my bullshit.”
The bunny goes very still for a moment, then resumes its gentle nuzzling. I stroke down its back, marveling at how something so small can exude such a distinct personality.
“Oli is the only one who looks at me like I’m a friend,” I continue, the words flowing now.
“Hudson sees me as an obligation, although he’s nice, he keeps his distance.
Ethan watches me like I’m a patient to cure.
Damien hates my guts for reasons I can’t figure out.
And Axel…” I pause, considering. “Axel probably just sees me as entertainment.”
The bunny’s ears perk up, making a sound that almost resembles a chuckle. I narrow my eyes.
“Are you laughing at me, Fluffy? Because that’s not cool.”
In response, the bunny stretches its neck and touches its nose to my chin in what feels like an apology.
“Fine. Apology accepted,” I sigh, unable to maintain even fake annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
We fall into a comfortable silence after that. The bunny settles into the crook of my arm, its breathing gradually slowing. I find myself matching my breaths to its rhythm, the tension I always carry in my shoulders slowly unraveling.
Then, I hear them.
The guys are back for lunch.
I grab the bunny and make my way to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, little guy. You and me against the world, huh?” I murmur.
As I approach the kitchen, deep voices rise and fall in conversation, punctuated by the occasional laugh or grunt.
I clear my throat, and four heads snap toward me in perfect unison.
The conversation dies instantly.
Four pairs of eyes fix on me, then drop to the bundle of fur cradled protectively against my chest.
“Okay, which one of you idiots thought it was a good idea to hide this little angel from me?” I demand.
Their reactions are… odd.
Ethan’s lips press into a tight line, his eyes widening fractionally before his expression smooths into careful neutrality.
Damien makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, looking away quickly.
Axel turns abruptly, rubbing a hand over his mouth as if hiding a smile.
And Hudson simply stares, his expression shifting from surprise to what looks strangely like exasperation.
“Well?” I press, taking a step forward. “Someone wants to explain why there’s a bunny in Oli’s bed? In a house full of predators?”
The silence stretches with something I can’t quite identify. Then Ethan clears his throat, his voice carefully controlled.
“You… found that in Oli’s room?” he asks, each word precise and measured.
“Yes. Under the covers.” I stroke the bunny’s head, its fur soft under my fingers. “What kind of sick game are you all playing? Keeping a rabbit here is like keeping a steak in a lion’s den.”
Axel snorts, then quickly disguises it as a cough when Hudson shoots him a warning look.
“It’s not a game, Luna,” Hudson says, his deep voice revealing nothing. “The rabbit is safe here.”
“Safe?” I echo in disbelief. “We’re wolves. How is it safe?”
“We have better control than you give us credit for,” Ethan replies smoothly, though a twitch at the corner of his mouth seems suspicious.
Axel finally turns back around; his lips curve into a smirk that stiffens my spine. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” he comments, those intense blue eyes dancing with amusement. “The mothering type looks sexy as fuck on you.”
“I’m not mothering. I’m protecting. There’s a difference.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Axel hums, not bothering to hide his smile now. “And what exactly are you protecting it from? Us big, bad wolves?”
“Yes, actually,” I snap, tightening my hold on the bunny. It nuzzles against me in response, seeming completely at ease despite being the center of attention in a room full of predators. “Where’s Oli? Is this his pet?”
Another strange silence falls.
Damien suddenly finds the ceiling fascinating. Ethan coughs delicately into his fist. Hudson sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Oli is indisposed at the moment,” Hudson says finally, his voice carefully neutral. “I’m sure he’s aware of the situation.”
“Indisposed?” I repeat suspiciously. “What does that mean? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Ethan assures me, his tone bordering on amused. “Just caught up in something he can’t get out of right now.”
Axel barks out a laugh at that, and even Damien’s scowl twitches toward something like a smile. I look between them, increasingly confused and irritated by their cryptic responses.
“What am I missing here?” I demand, my patience wearing thin. “Because you’re all acting weird, even for a bunch of overgrown dogs.”
The bunny shifts in my arms then, apparently deciding it’s had enough of being held in one position.
It wriggles upward before I can adjust my grip, tiny paws scrabbling for purchase against my shirt.
And then—in a move that makes my face flame instantly hot—it dives headfirst into my cleavage, burrowing down until only its fluffy tail and back legs are visible, sticking out from between my breasts.
“Oh my god,” I yelp.
The kitchen erupts.
Damien turns away completely, his shoulders shaking. Ethan’s carefully composed expression cracks as he presses his lips together, eyes crinkling at the corners. Hudson looks momentarily stunned, then closes his eyes as if praying for patience.
And Axel—Axel throws his head back and howls with laughter, the sound bouncing off the kitchen walls.
“Well, well,” he manages between gasps, pointing at my chest where the bunny has made itself comfortable. “Little guy’s really pushing it now.”
My face burns hotter, but I resist the urge to yank the bunny out of its hiding place. That would only make this more awkward, if that’s even possible.
“It’s not funny,” I hiss, though the situation’s absurdity isn’t lost on me. “It’s just… scared.”
“Oh, yeah, terrified,” Axel agrees, wiping tears from his eyes. “That’s definitely fear making it dive into your shirt. Not opportunism at all.”
“Axel,” Hudson warns, though his own voice sounds strained with suppressed amusement.
I glare at them all, one hand coming up to cup protectively around the bunny’s exposed half. “You’re all sick. You know that, right? This poor creature is probably traumatized from living with you lunatics.”
“Trust me,” Damien says, finally turning back around with a smirk firmly in place, “that rabbit is exactly where it wants to be.”
Something about his tone makes me narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Ethan cuts in smoothly, shooting Damien a look. “Just that the rabbit seems quite comfortable with you.”
As if to prove his point, the bunny wriggles deeper, a contented movement that makes me gasp at the ticklish sensation.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, carefully extracting the bunny despite its squirming protests. I hold it up to eye level, giving it a stern look. “That was inappropriate, Fluffy. We need to talk about boundaries.”
The bunny’s nose twitches, its eyes fixed on mine with what looks disturbingly like mischief. For a second, I’m reminded again of Oli—the same playful glint I’ve seen in his eyes when he teases his pack mates.
“You named it Fluffy?” Axel asks, setting off another round of poorly suppressed laughter.
“It’s descriptive, not creative,” I snap, cradling the bunny’s back against my chest, more carefully positioned this time. “And it’s temporary until Oli tells me its real name.”
The pack exchanges looks again, some silent communication passing between them that I can’t decipher.
“Right,” Hudson says finally, setting his mug down with a decisive clink. “Let’s just eat. We need to get back out there,” he says. Then to me, “Luna. We’ll let Oli explain when he’s… less indisposed.”