Chapter 30 Luna
Luna
Notebook: OMG! I claimed the best tree!!!
The lake house is nothing like I expected.
When they said “lake house,” I pictured something small, maybe a cabin with a leaky roof and questionable plumbing. But this… this is straight out of a fairytale.
Still, it’s the lake itself that steals my breath.
The view stretches endlessly, with crystal-blue water framed by mountains that seem to touch the sky. In the morning light, mist rises from the surface like something magical, and at sunset, the whole world turns to gold and fire.
“Like it?” Oli asks on our third day, plopping beside me on the deck where I’ve been curled up with my notebook since dawn.
“It’s okay, I guess,” I deadpan, not looking up from my page as I doodle little hearts.
He nudges my shoulder. “Liar.”
I finally meet his eyes, unable to keep the smile from my face. “Fine. It’s incredible. Happy?”
His dimples deepen. “Very.”
The truth is, I’ve never felt more at peace.
My purple dress flutters around my knees in the gentle morning breeze. I’ve worn it every day since we got here.
It makes me feel… pretty.
Normal.
I hand him my cracked phone. “Take a picture of me with the lake and mountains.”
I’ve always avoided pictures, but now I want to capture this moment of pure happiness.
“Say Oli is the best kisser,” Oli teases.
I laugh. “Oli is the best kisser.”
Oli shows me the picture. I have a huge smile, and my scars are entirely on display, but I look so happy.
I decide to post it on InstaShifter with the caption “Happy.”
I tuck my phone back into my dress pocket and return to my notebook.
“I’m going back inside for a nap,” Oli tells me, a yawn taking over his face.
I laugh—Oli and his naps.
The guys seem more relaxed here.
Oli spends hours swimming and has taken it upon himself to teach me, though my first attempts end with me flailing and swallowing half the lake.
Axel likes to shoot and do “axe” stuff, humming happily.
Hudson still works and monitors security, ensuring the tenants back at the compound are okay.
Ethan spends lots of time gathering special flowers and herbs that grow nearby, but he always makes time to join me on the deck with his book, happy to share silence.
Only Damien remains aloof, vanishing for the entire day yesterday without explanation. When he is around, he watches me with those unreadable eyes before turning away when I notice. After our encounter in the forest, I’ve been both avoiding him and hyper-aware of his presence.
“Beautiful morning.”
I turn to find Hudson standing at the end of the dock on our fourth morning, his massive frame silhouetted against the sun. He’s dressed simply in jeans and a tee stretching across his shoulders.
“It is,” I agree, surprised he’s seeking me out.
Hudson has always been polite, but our interactions have been limited. I’d almost started to wonder if I’d done something wrong.
He moves to stand beside me, and we watch the lake in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds are the gentle lap of water against the pilings and distant birdsong.
“I was going to walk around the property,” he says finally. “Check the perimeter. Would you like to join me?”
The invitation catches me off guard. “Me?”
His mouth quirks up at one corner. “Unless you see someone else here.”
I smile back. “I’d like that.”
We follow a narrow path that winds along the lake shore. The grass tickles my bare feet, but I don’t mind. There’s something freeing about walking without shoes, feeling the earth beneath my soles.
“You seem happy here,” Hudson observes after we’ve walked a while.
“I am. It’s… easier to breathe here, somehow.”
He nods as if this makes perfect sense. “The mountains have that effect.”
That’s when I feel her.
My wolf.
It’s overwhelming.
I grab Hudson’s arm and look up at him. “I think… I think my wolf wants to come out.”
I’m excited and scared, but mostly excited.
I hurry to remove my beautiful dress before I tear it, and I almost don’t make it. My claws come out, and my body snaps.
It’s painful as hell, and then it’s pure ecstasy.
Everything is different.
The world explodes into layers of scent and sounds that my human senses could never detect. I can smell every wildflower in the clearing, hear the heartbeat of a squirrel ten feet away, and feel the subtle variations in the earth beneath my paws.
My paws!
They are tiny but cute.
The thought sends a thrill through my new body—I have paws! I flex them experimentally, feeling claws extend and retract.
Holy shit, I did it. I actually shifted.
I look over at Hudson, who has also transformed. His wolf is enormous—a massive white beast with intelligent eyes.
Beside him, I feel tiny and delicate.
I glance down at my own body, trying to get a sense of myself. My fur looks silvery in the shaded sunlight, similar to my hair color. My legs are lean and quick-looking, built for speed rather than the raw power Hudson’s form displays.
I take a tentative step forward, then another, getting used to the strange four-legged gait.
It’s awkward at first—like learning to walk all over again—but there’s an instinctive knowledge guiding me, my wolf lending me her understanding.
Within moments, I’m moving more confidently, circling Hudson with growing excitement.
He watches me with what I swear is amusement in his eyes. He lets out a soft bark that somehow translates in my mind as encouragement.
Try running, he seems to say.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I launch myself, startled by my own speed. The sensation is incredible—my muscles working in perfect harmony, the ground flying beneath me, the wind rushing through my fur.
I dart between trees, leap over fallen logs, and spin in dizzy circles. After years of being told I was defective and that my wolf was too damaged to emerge, the joy of this moment is overwhelming.
My senses guide me to a small stream cutting through the forest. I stop at the edge, peering at my reflection in the clear water.
The face looking back at me is… strange.
Not quite what I expected. My muzzle seems shorter than Hudson’s, and my ears are more prominent.
But before I can examine myself more closely, a fish darts beneath the surface, instantly capturing my attention.
I paw at the water, fascinated by the ripples and the darting silver shapes below.
Everything is a new discovery, a delight to my enhanced senses. I can hear birds calling to each other high in the trees, each species with its distinct voice. I can smell the rich loam of the forest floor, the sweet sap of the pines, and even the faint musk of a deer that passed through hours ago.
Hudson appears beside me, his massive form moving with surprising agility. He nudges me gently with his muzzle, then turns toward a game trail leading deeper into the forest. I follow eagerly, every nerve singing with excitement.
We trot along the trail, Hudson occasionally pausing to let me investigate whatever has caught my interest—a peculiar fungus growing on a rotting log, a beetle trundling across our path, the elaborate nest of a woodpecker high in a dead tree.
Everything fascinates me; everything demands my attention.
A butterfly flutters past, and I can’t resist chasing it, darting and leaping as it dances just beyond my reach. I hear a rumbling sound and realize Hudson is laughing at my antics, his wolf form somehow expressing amusement.
We reach another clearing; this one is dominated by a massive old pine tree that towers above its neighbors.
Something primal stirs in me at the sight of it—a territorial instinct I’ve never felt before. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m trotting around the tree’s base, rubbing my flank against the rough bark, marking it with my scent.
Mine, I declare.
This tree is mine.
Hudson watches from the edge of the clearing, making no move to challenge my claim.
Satisfied with my claim, I returned to him, feeling ridiculously proud.
Look at my tree! Isn’t it the best tree ever?
I can’t express the words, but the sentiment bubbles up.
Hudson responds by playfully bumping his head against mine, nearly knocking me over despite what seems like a gentle touch on his part.
His size is much greater than mine, his strength so much more formidable, but I don’t feel threatened.
Instead, I feel protected and secure knowing this powerful creature is on my side.
I retaliate by darting around him, nipping playfully at his legs, and dancing away before he can respond.
A game develops between us, with me using my smaller size and quickness to dart in and out, and his greater experience to anticipate my moves.
We chase each other through the forest, our paws barely seeming to touch the ground.
We pause, both of us breathing hard from our exertions. Hudson lifts his massive head, eyes closing as he draws deep breaths. Then he opens his mouth and howls.
The sound shivers through the forest, hauntingly beautiful.
I lift my head, trying to mimic his posture. I draw in a breath and open my mouth, letting the sound rise from my chest…
But what emerges isn’t a howl.
It’s a strange, high-pitched sound; somewhere between a yowl and a screech. Definitely not the deep, melodious howl that Hudson produced.
I stop, confused.
That can’t be right.
I try again, concentrating harder this time. Again, that odd screech erupts from my throat, echoing through the trees. A nearby bird takes flight, startled by the sound.
Hudson’s head swivels toward me with amusement in his eyes.
Determined to get it right, I make a third attempt. I position myself carefully, draw in the deepest breath I can manage, and put everything I have into producing a proper wolf’s howl.
The result is the same—that strange, almost feline screech that sounds nothing like Hudson’s magnificent call.
But I refuse to let this one imperfection ruin the glory of this day.
So what if my howl sounds weird?
I shifted!
After years of believing I never would, I’m standing here on four paws, experiencing the world through my wolf’s senses.
That’s what matters.
I bump my head against Hudson’s chest, then dart away, inviting him to chase me again.
I feel entirely free, and I’m loving it.
I am Luna.
I am a wolf… even if I’m a wolf with a weird howl.
And I am finally, wonderfully, exactly where I belong.