Blessed By The Moon

Chapter 12

Skye's POV : 

I was curled up by the fire, knees to my chest, when the knock came. Three sharp raps against the wood. Axe again probably, he's been coming and knocking for the past few days, ever since I declared that I needed a break to think, to absorb everything that's happening to me, wanting to train my wolf in peace, the woods a calm comfort. 

I never answered, and he never insisted, but he never missed his daily check ups either.

Again, I didn't answer, three more knocks.

The silence stretched then glass rattled. I whipped my head toward the window just in time to see him swing through it like he owned the place, only it wasn't Axe.

"Nick," I hissed. "What the hell?"

He brushed himself off, completely unfazed. "You weren't opening the door."

"Because I didn't want to."

He gave me that half-smile, the one that always rubbed me the wrong way because it felt like he knew more than he should. "And yet... here I am."

I glared, but something in me eased the moment I saw his face. Familiarity tugged at me even though my mind still felt like a jigsaw puzzle missing half the pieces.

"You shouldn't be here," I muttered.

"Maybe not. But you look like you needed someone to be." His voice softened, almost warm. It disarmed me more than I cared to admit.

I turned my face away, suddenly aware of the faint tremor in my hands. "Nick, I'm going to ask you a question but I need you to answer me honestly."

"Yes?"

"...did you know? About me being a werewolf?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"How did you know?"

"No human could be blessed by the moon, I couldn't smell it on you but I could feel it, it was more of a strong hint, honestly."

My breath caught. "And you didn't tell me?"

His expression shifted, a flicker of conflict tightening his jaw. "I wasn't sure if you'd really forgotten... or if you were faking it. If you had some plan cooking up, or if you were really someone who forgot she was a werewolf."

My head snapped toward him. "Why the hell would I lie about something like this?"

The question landed heavy in the room. He didn't answer right away. His eyes held mine, steady, unreadable, like he was measuring me against some memory only he had. The silence tasted bittersweet, thick with things neither of us dared to say.

Finally, he murmured, "I'm glad you weren't faking it, you may be too agressive for your own good, but at least you're honest."

I opened my mouth to answer, but he was already pulling something from inside his jacket. A worn leather book, edges frayed, pages stuffed with loose papers. He placed it on the table between us.

"What's this?"

"Everything useful I could find from my old library. Werewolf origins, history... the kind of answers no one ever gives you straight." He gave a small nod, almost formal. "Good luck, Skye."

He turned toward the window like he actually meant to leave.

I blinked at him, stunned. "Wait, wait, wait, so you break into my cabin, hand me a book, and then just... leave?"

"Basically, unless you want me to spend the night." he said with a shrug, there was something softer in his smile, something that made my chest tighten.