Chapter Twenty-Three

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Dylan

"I thought this whole yall catching the Dark Tribe thing was supposed to make life easier," I complain, falling back onto the loveseat in Dean's old room. His dad wasted no time turning it into his man cave.

"They're called the Dark Wood Tribe," Connor corrects from his seat on the floor in front of me, "And it has made things easier. I feel safer already." He's being sarcastic and we both know it.

I nudge him with my foot and he groans. As if it actually hurt him.

Dean has hardly been home since they brought back the damned Dark Wood members they caught a few weeks ago. They were able to round up fifty of them with only a few casualties, all from Dark Wood's side.

Dean's been so weird about who gets to question them and who can be around and all of that so Connor and I have both been confined to babysitting each other. It isn't terrible seeing as how we've gotten pretty well acquainted with each other, dare I say we've become friends. I did just kick him with my bare foot a second ago.

Andrea still doesn't trust him because she can't read his thoughts. She won't come around him so she hasn't been here in weeks. I keep telling her if she would spend time with him she'd be able to get a read but she says it's like he's putting up some sort of shield in his mind whenever she's around. I laughed at her and told her it served her right for trying to poke around in people's brains uninvited. I'm sure if she got to know him he'd let his guard down just like he did with me.

"How come you haven't made friends with any of the shewolves here?" Connor asks, leaning back against my knees.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, "I don't think they like me much."

He cocks his head up at me and holds his chest feigning shock, "How could they not? You're the most awesome, beautiful, coolest Luna there ever was."

I push him off of my legs and swat at him.

"And how could I forget your gentle nonviolent nature?" he continues, rolling out of the way of another hit.

"Keep it up Kiddo and I'll skin you. I could make a nice rug out of your fur," I threaten, narrowing my eyes.

He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. The sound of the movie on TV is the only noise in the room for a while as I collect my thoughts.

"Really though, I don't get how they couldn't like you," Connor explains, sitting down across from me on the rug, "You're perfect."

My eyes connect with his before he looks away, a tinge to his cheeks.

I feel the flutter in my chest at his words. My nerves are alert and my palms sweat slightly. As cute as I think it is that Connor has a little crush on me, the feelings aren't mutual. Dean's the only one I want, Connor is more like the little brother I never knew I wanted until I got him.

"Con," I start, trying to let him down easy.

"Relax Old Lady," he laughs, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. As perfect as you may be you're not my type."

My cheeks flame and suddenly the ends of my hair are extremely interesting.

"What I meant was...you're the only friend I have."

My heart melts at the timid reluctance in his voice. "Aww Con-Con," I squeal, jumping over to him with a hug.

He whines about the girly nickname but hugs me back anyway, kissing the side of my head before letting me go.

I don't want to misread him, especially after what he just said, but I could've sworn I saw lust in his eyes when I pulled away.

Shaking away the thought I lie down on my stomach and place my head across my folded arms. "Why don't you have any friends?" I flip his earlier question around on him.

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