There are only a few days left before my leave ends, and I'm still nestled in the heart of the werewolf pack.
I've come to enjoy the peaceful rhythm of life they embraced here, tucked deep in the mountains. It's quiet, calm. Everyone has their own role, their own purpose. And if you walk down the gravel path between the cabins, every single person greets you like family.
It's a close-knit community, no outsiders.
Except me, of course. But I seem to be the only one who thinks that. Everyone treats me like I'm already their Luna.
"Morning," Maggie greets as I step into the nursery, just like I've done every day this past week.
"Good morning," I reply, smiling as I join the children. They've just finished breakfast, and I instinctively begin clearing the dishes.
"Oh, look who's here," Tasia announces as she enters with an empty plastic crate.
"Morning to you too," I tease, and she waves me off with a grin as she starts collecting plates. I gather the utensils and drop them into the crate.
We have a steady rhythm going until everything is cleaned up.
"Jackson, slow down," I warn the boy out of habit. He never gets tired of running laps in the play area. Every once in a while, he will stop and try to egg one of the other kids on, but he's rarely successful, as even these children are tired of his antics.
"Ok, Luna," he responds with a defeated sigh, slowing his pace.
"Not the Luna," I whisper to myself, but of course, Tasia hears it. Stupid werewolf hearing.
"But you are the future Luna," she says, pointing at me with a wink.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, but not yet."
Xavion explained it to me once. Even though his parents are gone, making him the Alpha, I'm not officially the Luna until we're married. There's a ceremony, he said; a crowning, a formal welcome into the pack. Most Lunas come from other packs, so it's a big deal.
But I'm human.
So I'm pretty sure it'll be more complicated than that.
I shake the thoughts from my head and focus on the children. Their laughter, their tiny hands tugging at toys, and their innocent joy.
It's comforting.
A slight breeze brushes through my hair as I stroll back to the main cabin. The pack is out and about, each person busy with their chores, and the quiet hum of activity fills me with a sense of calm.
The cabin grows larger with every step, its familiar silhouette rising against the mountain backdrop. Dirt crunches beneath my shoes on the handmade path, and as I near the front steps, I spot a small group gathered near the door. They're standing in a loose circle, chatting casually.
But just as I get within ten meters, the group quickly scatters.
I stop in my tracks, blinking at the bizarre situation. Then I see the lone figure left behind.
"You scolded them, didn't you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at Xavion.
He shrugs innocently, but the glint in his eyes gives him away. In a few long strides, he closes the distance between us until we're just inches apart.
Without a word, he pulls me into a hug, burying his face in my shoulder and inhaling deeply. I roll my eyes internally at his werewolf habits, but I let him be. I guess I'll have to get used to it.
"I missed you," Xavion mumbles into my shoulder, voice muffled but sincere.
"You saw me this morning," I tease, gently patting his back.
"Still missed you," he replies, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. His gaze is intense, but soft, like he's memorising every detail of my face.
My heart skips, but I mask it with a smirk. "What are you going to do when I go back home?"
His face falters, slightly pouting at my words.
His expression falters, a subtle pout forming as the words sink in.
"Not trying to dampen the mood," I add quickly, "just… wondering."
He doesn't respond right away, and the silence stretches between us. I can feel the weight of it, the unspoken thoughts swirling behind his eyes.
After a moment, he takes my hand and gently leads me toward the cabin. We walk side by side, letting silence overtake us, until we reach the front door.
Inside, the cabin is quiet. Xavion leads me through the hallway, his hand still loosely holding mine, until we reach his room.
He guides me to the bed, then pulls an armchair close, settling into it across from me. His eyes lock onto mine with a steady gaze.
A moment of silence stretches between us. But unlike before, it's not peaceful. The air feels taut, like it's holding its breath. Words gather in my throat, but none feel safe enough to speak. I don't want to shut down.
Because the opposite terrifies me. Being this close to someone, and to a whole community I didn't even know existed two months ago, feels like standing on the edge of something with no return.
I just don't know if there's a middle ground. Or how to say any of this without unravelling.
"There's always a middle ground," Xavion says, his voice cutting through my thoughts like a thread pulling me back.
"I don't know," I admit, my voice low. "It's all happening so fast for me. And from what I've learned, it's been excruciatingly slow for you. How do two people find a middle ground in that?" My energy dips, like something inside me is folding in on itself.
My sunken look triggers something in Xavion. He rises abruptly, crossing the space between us in two strides, and wraps his arms around me. His body trembles faintly, like he's holding back something bigger than words.
"Hey, slow down," he murmurs, voice low and steady, but there's a crack in it, barely noticeable, unless you're listening for it.
I don't respond right away. I just let myself sink into him, forehead pressed against his shoulder, the scent of pine and something earthy grounding me. His heartbeat thuds against my cheek, fast and uneven.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, and when he starts to protest, I shake my head. "I'm making a mess of everything. Of myself. Of this bond." I inhale sharply, trying to steady the storm inside.
"No, no, no," he breathes, like the words themselves are a lifeline. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I always asked the Moon Goddess for my mate, never thinking I had one, until I realised why it took so long."
"Because I'm human?" I ask, the word tasting like doubt, never knowing that being human would feel like it's not good enough.
"No," he says, eyes fierce and tender all at once. "Because you… are you."