The Full Moon Effect

Chapter 6: Under the Stars

"Love is never wasted,

For its value does not rest upon reciprocity."

C.S. Lewis

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Unlike every other time we'd run together, this time was more playful. I nipped at his heels when he ran and he growled playfully at me, turning around quickly enough that I ran into him. My tongue lolled in jest and he nuzzled his face against mine. I let him for a second, then nipped at his ear and took off again.

This time, he chased me, grazing his teeth against my hind legs when he let himself get too close. After the fifth time he did, it, I slowed down my run. Right before he lunged again, I leapt onto a low branch and watched him rush forward. I barked and leaped onto his back, tackling him to the ground. Leaves and twigs clung to our fur when we finally stopped rolling and Jones sneezed a few times.

My paws rested on his chest, moving up and down as he breathed. I pulled the dirt out from between my nails and pads, licking my paws until they were pristine. When I finished, Jones's eyes remained on me as I rolled to my stomach. My chin fell on my cleaned paws and I curled up, my nose facing the northeast, where the breeze carried in fresh scents. Jones stood up and circled me a few times. Eventually, he curled up behind me and rested his chin on my lower back so his eyes could still watch me.

I breathed in deeply, smelling rabbits and elk and squirrels and Jones. He smelled like a combination of the scents of his territory and the earth. I could breathe it in all day.

I pondered if this is what it would be like to live with Jones—to have playful afternoon runs after lunch—or if this was a faux way to spend time allowed by the summit. As Alpha, would he have time for nipping and tackling and resting? Leyton had spent the majority of his time in an office, not as his wolf. Was I getting a real view of how life with Jones would be or a rose-colored one?

For the remainder of the afternoon, we rested and played and hunted. Well, Jones hunted. As a prospective mate, I allowed him to hunt for me and took first bite of the large elk he lugged back. The meat was juicy and delicious; Jones was a good provider for his mate in addition to his pack. With nothing on his agenda besides trying to convince me he would be a good mate, he spent the rest of the day with me. And when the stars came out I pulled him to the roof of the pack house and we watched the trees bristle in the wind, illuminated solely by the moon.

After a while, our questions toward each other ceased. I found comfort in the silence. If we could be just as comfortable in our silence as in our talking, then it would be a good match indeed. After a while, he positioned himself behind me and buried his nose in my hair.

"Castor is nearly healed from his injuries."

I stilled yet Jones's chest heaved steadily at my back. I understood why he mentioned this—if Castor met any pack members who witnessed his betrayal, they would have grounds to attack him. So far, his return and recovery had been kept under wraps, but Jones would need to make a decision soon. He could either kill Castor before he got a chance to meet a pack member or summon the packs together to announce him officially as a rogue, have the packs shame him, then run him off the territory. Even deeper, it came down to whether or not Jones believes Castor has ulterior motives or not.

"Relax," Jones whispered, his hand gripping me to scoot me closer. With no space between his chest and my back, the tension left my body quickly.

I leaned my head back and his cheek briefly pressed against my head. My lips trembled with the effort to hold back the question I so desperately wanted to ask: what will you do? But it wasn't my place to ask this, not as his challenged. As a mate—yes, as a Luna—definitely, but I wasn't either of those yet.