Chapter 27 Luna
Luna
Notebook: Jealousy isn't logical. It's feral. And sometimes, it grows claws.
Ilinger in the hallway, wondering if starving is better than facing the pack after last night.
The memory of Axel’s axe handle between my thighs makes my stomach tighten with a mix of discomfort and something far too… pleasurable.
Fuck my life.
There’s no way they don’t know—shifter noses are too good for secrets, especially those involving bodily fluids and questionable decisions.
My stomach growls, betraying my body’s priorities.
Food first, dignity later.
I take a deep breath and step into the kitchen, trying to act normal, whatever the hell that means in a house full of alphas, especially after just having a run-in with a hatchet.
The moment I walk in, five pairs of eyes snap to me like I’m the breakfast special, each gaze filled with varying degrees of hunger.
Oli drops a pan with a loud clatter.
Damien pauses mid-chew.
Hudson watches me. He’s been doing it more and more lately.
Ethan is staring as if he’s a starving man.
And Axel? The maniac sits with his boots on the table, a smirk on his face, twirling his mini axe as if it doesn’t have my scent all over it.
I wince.
“Morning,” I mutter, making a beeline for the coffee pot like it’s a lifeline to salvation.
Hudson clears his throat, his gaze unwavering from the head of the table. “Good morning, Luna.”
I pour coffee with hands that aren’t quite steady, feeling completely exposed.
“Did you sleep well?” Oli asks, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His dimples deepen as his cheeks turn pink slightly.
I shoot him a glare that could melt steel. “Like the dead.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Damien mutters, his fork scraping against his plate unnecessarily. “Considering what was being murdered last night was everyone’s peace and quiet.”
The coffee sloshes over the rim of my mug, scalding my fingers. “Shit!”
“Need a hand with that?” Oli offers innocently. “Or would you prefer a handle?”
“I will end you,” I hiss, grabbing a paper towel to mop up the spill.
Axel saunters up, pulling a chair out for me, all chivalrous and shit.
My heart does a stupid little flutter, and I immediately want to punch it into submission.
He’s wearing low-slung jeans and nothing else, his scarred torso on full display.
His blond hair is still damp from a shower, and he’s now tucked the mini axe into his belt loop.
The damn mini axe.
Everyone is still staring.
I plop down at the table and grab a piece of toast. “What?”
Axel’s smirk widens. “Seems like my axe left quite the impression on you, Wildcat. Think we should take that ride again sometime?”
I choke on my coffee.
That little shit.
“Axel,” Hudson warns.
Damien throws his napkin onto his plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Jealous much, Stone?” Axel smirks.
Damien scoffs, storming out, the back door slamming hard enough to rattle the windows.
“Well,” Oli says, his voice light. “That was dramatic.”
Axel snorts. His hand brushes my thigh under the table, and despite everything, my traitorous body responds. I edge away, which only makes his smile widen.
“So,” Hudson closes his iPad. “Let’s go on a run after breakfast. Might be good for everyone to work off some energy.”
“Can’t,” Axel says, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate even though there’s a whole platter in front of him. “Got patrol on the east boundary.”
“I already promised to help the Warrens with their garden,” Oli pipes up. At my confused look, he elaborates, “The bunny shifters down in the valley. They’re good folks. Make the best carrot cake you’ve ever tasted.”
I smile at Oli. “Remember to bring me a piece.”
“I usually find something else to do when they go for a run,” Oli finishes. “Unless I feel like being chased for sport. Which, despite what these idiots think, isn’t actually fun.”
Despite myself, I smile at the image.
“Which is why I’m sticking with my own kind today,” Oli says firmly.
“Your loss,” Hudson says, standing up. “Luna, would you like to join me? Might help you connect with your wolf.”
I shake my head, tension creeping back into my shoulders. “I don’t think so. I think I’ll… take a walk. Alone. Clear my head.”
“You better not be ditching us for some cute fox shifter,” Axel says.
“Busted,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I have a whole harem of woodland creatures waiting.”
Hudson chuckles, a deep rumble that vibrates through the room.
The air lightens a bit, and they go back to their food.
Oli leans over and whispers, “Watch out for the squirrels. I hear they have a mean bite.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I say, nudging him with my elbow.
The rest of the breakfast is a blur of voices and clattering dishes. They plan the day, discussing security, the tenants, and the fields.
Hudson studies me for a moment, then nods. “Just don’t go too far. The northern section beyond the creek is off-limits. Understand?”
“Got it. No creek crossing.” I dump the rest of my coffee in the sink, suddenly eager to escape the house and its complicated dynamics.
“I could join you instead,” Axel offers, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Show you some interesting landmarks.”
“I’ll pass,” I say dryly. “I think I’ve seen enough of your landmarks for one day.”
Oli chokes on his juice, and even Hudson can’t hide his amusement.
Axel grins, unrepentant. “Your loss, Wildcat.”
I roll my eyes and head for the door, feeling his gaze on my back the entire way.
“Luna,” Hudson calls after me. “Be back by lunch.”
I nod without turning around, desperate for fresh air. The forest beckons, promising escape from the twisted knot of emotions choking me.
At least trees don’t judge.
Or put axe handles where they shouldn’t be.
* * *
The forest welcomes me as I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with air. My fingers trail over rough bark and pine trees as I walk.
This is what I needed.
Here, I don’t have to be the scarred female who hasn’t shifted yet, the embarrassed one who fucked an axe handle, or the outsider desperate to belong.
I can be Luna, whoever the hell that is.
The farther I walk into the forest, the lighter my shoulders feel. Birds call overhead, a simple conversation of territory and mating that makes infinitely more sense than shifter relationships.
A squirrel chatters angrily as I pass, reminding me I’m the intruder in this world.
“Sorry,” I mutter, though I’m not sure why I’m apologizing to rodents now. Maybe seeing the tenants has me seeing the forest differently.
No matter how small, every living thing needs love and respect—except mosquitoes.
I draw the line at mosquitoes.
I find a fallen log bathed in a patch of sunlight and sit, letting my legs stretch out.
What am I doing here, really?
Playing house for the next three years, then what?
What happened last night, I can’t pretend I didn’t participate enthusiastically. If I’m honest, there’s something about Axel—about all of them—that calls to something primal inside me.
Even Damien, with his permanent scowl and cutting words.
“Fuck,” I whisper, dropping my head into my hands. That’s a complication I don’t need. The guy practically radiates hostility whenever I’m in the room—this morning proved that well enough.
Maybe because underneath his asshole exterior, I’ve glimpsed something else. The pain that mirrors my own, a brokenness I recognize all too well.
Or maybe I’m just a masochist who’s attracted to men who treat me like shit.
A twig snaps somewhere to my left, jolting me from my thoughts. I freeze, listening—another snap, followed by a low murmur of voices.
I’m not alone.
I slide off the log, tiptoeing toward the sound. The voices grow clearer. One is definitely male, with a familiar deep timbre.
Damien.
I should turn around.
Whatever he’s doing in the woods is none of my business. But my feet carry me forward, stepping carefully over fallen branches and soft moss. The voices lead me to a small clearing where sunlight streams through a gap in the canopy.
I peek around a thick oak trunk, and the air seizes in my lungs.
Damien stands naked, but he’s not alone.
A tall naked woman with cascading red hair stands beside him. Her back is to me, but I can see enough of her profile to clock her as gorgeous: flawless skin, curves in all the right places, and no scars.
Perfect.
She’s fucking perfect for him.
Everything I’m not.
They’re standing close to each other.
My stomach twists into a knot so tight I can barely breathe.
She laughs at something he says.
Something hot and ugly rises in my chest, clawing its way up my throat. My vision tunnels until I can see her hand on his body. The roaring in my ears drowns out the birdsong, replaced by the thundering of my pulse.
My wolf is furious, a snarl echoing in my chest.
Mine, she growls.
I clamp my hand over my mouth, but it’s too late to stifle it completely—a low sound bubbles up from deep within—not quite a hiss or a sob.
What the hell?
We have no claim on Damien.
He’s made it crystal clear he despises me. So why does watching him with this woman make me want to tear her face off?
My hands curl into fists, nails digging into my palms with sharp points of pain. Except the pain is wrong—deeper, stranger.
I look down and gasp.
My nails have extended into pointed claws, curving slightly from my fingertips.
“Oh, my God?” I say, staring at them.
I’m shifting.
I can feel my wolf as she jealously roars within me.
Damien’s head whips up; his eyes lock on mine.
“Luna?” he growls, pushing away from the woman.
She turns, confusion and irritation flashing across her beautiful face as she spots me. “Who’s that?” she demands, straightening in all her naked glory.
I should run.
Every instinct screams at me to flee. But all I want to do right now is tear that female’s face off while dancing triumphantly because my wolf is coming out.
“What are you doing here?” Damien demands, stalking toward me with rage rolling off him in waves. “Spying on me now?”
The accusation breaks through my murderous vision. “I wasn’t. I was just walking—”
“In this exact part of the forest?” His lips curl in disbelief. “Bullshit.”
The female appears at his side, her arm sliding possessively through his. “Damien, is this her?” Her gaze rakes over me, assessing.
“She’s nobody,” he says flatly. “Just the stray Hudson brought home.”
The words land like a physical punch to the gut.
Nobody.
Of course, that’s all I am to him.
Humiliation burns through every cell. “I heard voices,” I say, hating how defensive I sound. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“And when you did know, you decided to stay and watch?” Damien’s voice drips with contempt.
The woman’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, I see,” she says, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.
“You don’t see shit,” I snap, the words out before I can stop them.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“Ignore her, Cassie,” Damien says, his eyes never leaving my face. “She’s not worth your time.”
Not worth his time.
Not worth anyone’s time. The familiar refrain from the Institute echoes in my head, reinforced by his cutting words. But it ignites something fierce and hot in my chest instead of making me shrink this time.
“Fuck you, Damien,” I hiss, and the sound is different—deeper, with a rumbling quality that startles me.
I glance down at my hands again, seeing the small claws still extended. I feel my shift coming on, my vision changing slightly.
Damien’s expression shifts, hardening as something like recognition flickers across his face. “Go,” he tells me, his voice low and commanding. “Now.”
I turn and run, crashing through the underbrush with none of my earlier stealth. Branches whip at my face and arms, but I barely feel them. All I can focus on is the burning sensation in my hands, the strange tightness in my chest, and the inexplicable jealousy still coursing through my veins.
Why do I care?
He’s made it abundantly clear I’m nothing to him.
I run until my lungs burn and my legs tremble, finally stopping by a small stream to catch my breath. The water reflects my face back at me, and I gasp at what I see.
My eyes have changed—the pupils have elongated into slits, and they are more silver than their usual gray. Combined with my clawed hands, the effect is startlingly inhuman.
The claws retract slowly as my heartbeat steadies, and my eyes gradually return to normal. By the time I splash cold water on my face, I look like myself again.
And underneath the physical changes lies the more disturbing question: why did seeing Damien with someone else affect me so strongly? He’s been nothing but cruel since I arrived. I should be indifferent, or maybe even glad, that he has an outlet for his aggression other than tormenting me.
Instead, I wanted to tear them apart.
To stake a claim, I have no right to make.
“I’m losing my mind,” I mutter, pushing wet hair back from my face.