Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Luna
The water streams over my shoulders, hot enough to turn my skin pink. I tilt my head back and let it cascade over my face, washing away the sweat from my nightmare. The same one I’ve had every night since the miscarriage. Blood and wolf masks and empty cribs that morph into open graves.
I reach for my razor, propping my foot on the shower seat. The blade glides over my shin, and my stomach flips with anticipation. My appointment is this afternoon, and I already know what Dr. Ritchie will say. All clear to resume normal activities.
Normal activities.
As if anything about sex with my wolf can be called normal.
The bathroom door opens.
“Maren, I’m in the shower. Do you mind?”
“When has that ever stopped me?”
The toilet seat clatters down, and she settles onto it. I peek through the shower door. She dressed in her usual scrubs, her chocolate brown hair falling over her shoulders in curly waves.
Shit! When she wears her hair down and wild, she’s readying for battle. She clutches a mug of coffee in her hand like a lifeline, and her expression is serious. Too serious for seven in the morning.
“What’s wrong?”
“That’s my question.” She lifts the mug to her lips, her gaze tracking me through the clear glass. “You’re shaving your legs.”
“Yes. I do that periodically.”
“You haven’t shaved your legs in almost three weeks.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know you. You get as furry as Shadow when you’re depressed.”
I drag the razor over my thigh in long, careful strokes. “That’s an exaggeration. And I’m not depressed. Talking to the counselor Dr. Ritchie referred me to has really helped.”
Her face softens through the glass. “And you went for a bikini wax yesterday when you were in Estes.”
“How the hell do you know all this?”
She takes another sip of her coffee, still staring at me. If it wasn’t Maren, it would be weird.
“Trina called when you were running late.”
“Should I be worried that you’re stalking me? I’ve had one in my life, Mar. I’m done with it.”
The bite in my voice echoes off the tile, and I hate the defensive sound of it.
“Luna.” Just my name. Nothing else. The razor scrapes over my knee. “You’re going to fuck him again.”
It’s not a question but an accusation wrapped in resignation. I swap the razor to my other hand and lift my arm, baring my armpit. The silence stretches between us, thick with all the words neither of us wants to say.
The toilet creaks as she shifts her weight. “He could hurt you again.”
My hand stills. “He didn’t hurt me. My body—”
“I’m not talking about the miscarriage.” Her voice softens, losing its sharp edge. “I’m talking about your heart, Lu. This creeper won’t even tell you who he is. How can you trust him with your body when he won’t trust you with his face?”
The water beats against my back, and I close my eyes. She’s right, and I have no defense except the truth.
“I love him.”
“Fuck.” The word comes out on a long breath, and her mug bangs against the counter. “I know. That’s what scares me.”
I turn off the water and grab my towel, drying myself with the soft cotton. Maren’s elbows rest on her knees, her face buried in her hands. When she looks up, genuine worry etches lines around her eyes.
“I know what I’m doing, Mar.”
“Do you?” She stands, crossing her arms. “You’re about to climb back into bed with a guy who got you pregnant and still won’t tell you his name.”
I step out of the shower, clutching the towel tighter. “That’s not fair.”
“What he’s doing to you isn’t fair.”
I push past her into the bedroom. She follows, her footsteps soft on the hardwood, dropping into the chair in the corner and propping her feet on the ottoman.
Juniper abandons her perch on the windowsill, leaping down with a graceful arc despite her chubby body.
She lands on Maren’s lap and circles once before settling, purring loud enough to hear across the room.
I sink onto the edge of the bed. Shadow lifts his massive head from his bed, and his eyes lock on mine.
He rises and lopes over, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
He always knows when I need him. His fur is warm and solid, and I press my face against him, breathing in his familiar scent.
Earth and woods and loyalty that never wavers.
“I have no choice.” The words come out muffled against his fur. “I love him, Mar. I can’t just turn that off.”
“You do have a choice. You always have a choice.”
I pull back, looking at her over Shadow’s head. She’s scratching behind Juniper’s ears, and the cat’s eyes are half-closed in contentment.
“I’ll be careful. More careful than before.”
“How? By asking him pretty please to tell you his name before you spread your legs?”
“Jesus, Maren.”
“No, fuck that.” She stops petting Juniper, and the cat chirps in protest. “You want me to sugar-coat this? Fine. Luna, my darling best friend, please consider the emotional ramifications of resuming sexual relations with your anonymous stalker.”
I almost laugh, though the situation is far from amusing. “You’re such an ass.”
“And you’re deflecting.” But her lips twitch, fighting a smile.
“I’m serious, Lu. I’m worried about you.
Not just about you getting knocked up again, though that’s high on my list of concerns, based on how often you let the man defile you without a fucking condom.
I’m worried about what happens when this all blows up. Because it will. It has to.”
Deep down, in the part of myself I keep locked away, I know she's right and this can’t last. Eventually, the truth will crack open like an egg, and everything inside will spill out, raw and messy and impossible to put back together.
But not tonight. Please, not tonight.
“If everything is all clear, Dr. Ritchie is going to insert an IUD today. It’s more effective than the pill. And I’ll make him use protection.”
Maren snorts. “You’re a terrible liar. You never could keep a straight face. I still have no idea how you kept this a secret for so long.”
Shadow shifts, resting his chin on my thigh. His eyes drift closed, but his body remains alert, attuned to every shift in my breathing, every hitch in my voice.
“What do you want me to say? That I’ll end it? Cut him off?” My fingers dig into Shadow’s fur, but he doesn’t flinch. “I can’t, Mar. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. But every night when he comes to me, when he touches me, I’m whole again. Like all the broken pieces inside me finally fit together.”
“That’s not love, Lu. That’s addiction.”
I want to argue, to defend myself, but what if she’s right? What if what I feel for him isn’t love?
No.
If I know one thing with absolute certainty in this whole shitshow, it’s that I love my wolf. My heart is his as completely as my body.
Maren’s face softens. She dislodges Juniper, who protests with an indignant meow, and stands. She crosses to the bed and sits beside me, her shoulder pressing against mine.
“I get it. I do. That feeling of being someone’s entire world, even for a few hours. It’s what we all want. God knows I do.” Her hand finds mine, our fingers lacing together. “But you deserve more than scraps in the dark, babe. You deserve someone who’ll stand beside you in the light.”
Damien. She means Damien, even if she doesn’t say it.
She squeezes my hand and stands. “I’m going to make breakfast. You better have bread this time because I want French toast.”
“Middle shelf in the pantry.”
She heads for the door, then pauses, her hand on the frame. When she looks back, her eyes are bright with concern. “Just be careful tonight, Lu. Please. And for fuck’s sake, make him wrap it up before you let him inside you again. I can’t watch you go through another loss.”
My throat tightens, and I nod because words feel impossible.
She lingers another moment, and her struggle plays out on her face. The urge to say more, to push harder, to physically stop me from making this choice. But she’s Maren, and she knows when to hold on and when to let go.
“I love you, Mar.”
“Love you, too, you reckless bitch.”
She disappears down the hallway, her footsteps echoing on the stairs.
“Come on, pussies.” Juniper follows after her as Sage and Willow scamper off the duvet. Even Shadow abandons me for breakfast.
I sit on the bed, still wrapped in my towel. Through the window, I can see the snow-covered pines. Somewhere out there, he’s watching. Waiting.
Tonight, he’ll come to me, and I’ll find out if we can get back what we had or if this loss broke us.
I love Maren for her worry, but I’m a grown woman. I can make my own choices, my own mistakes. I can walk into the fire with my eyes open and deal with the burns later.
Even if part of me wonders if I’ll survive them.
I stand, dropping the towel, and move to my dresser. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror, a body that looks the same but feels forever changed.
It’s been eighteen days since I told him about the miscarriage. Eighteen nights of him visiting just to watch me sleep. The first night, he sat beside me on the bed. Then he moved across the room to the chair. The last few nights, he’s been back beside me, our fingers threaded together.
I’ve spent the day in a state of nervous anticipation, checking the clock every few minutes as I went through the motions at the sanctuary, my heart tripping over its own beats.
Now I’m pacing between the sink and the stove, fresh from another shower, wearing nothing but a silk nightie that skims my thighs. The overhead lights are off, and the kitchen glows soft from the moon spilling silver through the window over the sink.
Tonight feels different, like a beginning. Or maybe a test.