ANDREW POV
The world had fallen silent.
We lay there, tucked into the earth like a secret thing, the moon casting its silver blessing over the clearing. Its light filtered through the treehouse branches above, snagging in Jamie's hair—silken and uncombed—like spun silk caught in moonlight.
He lay on my chest, an arm draped across my ribs, breathing shallow, measured, in sync with mine. It was. Grounding. As if the forest itself had stopped to listen to our silence.
I absent-mindedly stroked my hand through his hair, employing the action to keep me anchored as I recalled all of it.
The way he launched himself into my arms was as if safety itself.
The way his wolf came out—golden eyes aflame, so hot, so beautiful.
I've seen golden eyes before. They're rare, sure. But Jamie's weren't just rare—they were meant for me. My wolf had felt it instantly and stirred and snarled in approval. I'd barely held back from losing myself when our lips touched.
That kiss. Gods, that kiss.
It cost me every ounce of willpower I possessed not to pin him to the floor at that moment. Not because I didn't want him. Shit, I've never wanted anything more. But because I knew—deep down—I couldn't push him. He wasn't ready, not all the way.
And I wouldn't destroy the one thing that had come to mean everything to me.
The link was real. His wolf remained humming in the space between us. I felt the vibration of it just beneath his skin, answering me, tied to mine like invisible strings. It still lingered, watching. Waiting.
We both needed grounding. A moment of definition. Something we shared and could both stand on.
He rolled a fraction, cheek on my chest, before he drew a breath, "Beautiful."
I smiled. "The moon?"
He nodded against me. "Feels like she's staring at us. Like. She's okay with this."
I rolled my head to the side to glance up at the sky. "Maybe she is."
We just breathed for a moment, the wind having whatever it had to say. The connection was settling in.
Then Jamie shifted a bit, voice softer now. "Ann told me about the Lunaris once."
I glanced down, my surprise coming due to the mention.
"She recited the legend passed down as more warning than truth. About power. About choice. About what happens when you love in error." He paused. "But what if they were not in error? What if they were just misunderstood?".
And what if they were framed?" he continued, angling his head back so I could see the solemn weight in his eyes. "What if a Lunaris was something of virtue? A blessing?"
Gods.
"Maybe they are," I said cautiously. "A wolf with something more. More than muscle and tooth. I would love that."
Jamie smiled faintly, his eyes tracing back to the skies. And then the smile disappeared.
"I wonder what mine would feel like," he spoke quietly.
I spun around to him. "Your wolf?"
He nodded. "What if. What if this is all I get? What if I don't shift fully? What if being connected on the inside is as close as I get?"
I hurt at the hollowness of those words as though they had been sliced right into my ribs.
I wrapped my arm around him closely. "Hey. no."
His doubt lingered in the air like fog. I felt it shrouding the power between us, dulling something that deserved light.
And then it hit me.
He's never really seen me. Not really.
What occurred that day with the rogue doesn't count. He didn't notice the shift. He didn't notice me. He was too overwhelmed to
What if I let him?
I leaned forward, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "Wanna see what it looks like?"
He blinked. "What does?"
"My wolf." I smiled, my heart racing at the thought. "I want you to meet him. Properly."
Jamie sat up, crossing his legs under him like a child anticipating a secret. His eyes flashed—wide, feral, and hungry.
"Seriously?"
I chuckled. "Seriously."
He nodded so fast it was almost laughable, and I saw the flicker of nerves and curiosity dancing together on his face.
I hope he's going to like me, I thought. Us.
I rose from the grass, the blades springing free under my boots as I turned back to him. And then I held out a hand.
He grasped it gladly.
****
Jamie – POV
The silence was perfect.
Not hollow or stiff. Just… still. As if the earth had inhaled and was holding its breath with us.
I lay there, cheek against Andrew's chest, the grass short and scratching my arms, cool and wet. The moon above glowed as if it had waited the whole night to take care of us, shooting silver ribbons across its skin. His heart beat under my cheek—slow, steady, earthy. I traced lazy patterns over the material of his shirt, not wanting to disturb. Not wanting the moment to shatter.
The kiss was new. Dizzy and raw.
And the way he'd looked at me—gods. Like I was holy stuff. Like, he couldn't comprehend that I existed.
For once, in too many years, I wasn't afraid. Not of what I was. Not of what I wasn't. Just… still.
But then the story Ann had told me whispered in my head again, insidiously breaking into the peace. The Lunaris. A warning, a prophecy. A tragedy, maybe.
I didn't mean to dispel the silence, but the words tumbled out as if they'd been eager to emerge from beneath the surface.
"Do you ever consider? What if the Lunaris weren't cursed? What if they were set up? Misunderstood?
Andrew did not react right away. He just went on stroking his fingers back through my hair, slower this time. I saw, though, the set of his jaw as it tensed and released.
"I wonder," he replied softly. "Much more than I should, I suppose. But that is what stories do—get retold by someone who lives. And living isn't always true."
I felt a shock that he said the same thing, so much said the same.
"My wolf," I whispered, cradling fingers in his shirt. "Tonight, that kiss—I did it, and it felt stronger. Different. He's like he is. Awake. Completely aware. But he stays inside. I don't know if I'll ever be able to change like the others. What if this is as good as I'm going to get? What if reaching inside to him is as far as I'll be able to reach?
The hollow crept back in once more. I resented the shake in my voice, but I couldn't avoid it. "What if I never really turn into a full-fledged werewolf?"
Andrew's arms folded tighter around me, holding me close as if he could banish the fear in my own words.
"You're already a real werewolf, Jamie," he declared. "But I know what you're saying. And I don't have the answers. Not all of them. But I do have something I want to share with you."
I sat up, confused. "What?"
He smiled, warm and intimate. "You've never really seen me. My wolf, that is. Not up close. Not the way I wish you would."
"I did once. With the rogue—"
"That doesn't count," he chuckled. "You were too busy staying alive. This… this will be different."
I stepped back from him, standing with a poise that made the action look easy. He extended a hand, and I allowed him to lift me. My fingers fit into his as an automatic habit.
He took us down a winding path hidden behind the treehouse, bordered with bioluminescent wolfsbane that purpled in the moonlight. We descended gingerly, the soft thrum of darkness enveloping us.
We were halfway down the path when I turned to him and asked, "Why doesn't the wolfsbane burn me?"
"You're not completely shifted," he said flat out. "Right now, it's a warning flag to your wolf, not a tool. But tonight, when your wolf is so on edge… You might get a little tingle."
I nodded. And yeah—I did feel it. Like a hum beneath my skin. Not painful, just present. Alive.
In no time at all, we arrived at a small clearing embraced by a lake, its waters sparkling with moonbeams as if stars were bathing there. My breath caught.
"Wait—are we still in Furstone?" I demanded, frozen.
Andrew grinned. "Just barely. This lake's a border. It takes us to another pack's territory. But they don't usually come this far."
I didn't ask him whose pack it was. I couldn't take my eyes off the water. Off him.
He walked away to a tree right at the edge of the lake, then came back and faced me.
"I'm going to move slowly," he said. "So you can see everything. So you know what's coming. But first…" He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I gotta take these off. I'm not getting my boots shredded just to trudge back to Furstone barefoot."
My mouth was dry. "You're…?"
"Yup," he replied carelessly, kicking off his boots.
My eyes deceived me. I tried—good intention—to avoid looking. But I could not help it. He removed his shirt afterwards, muscles rippling in the light of the moon as if chiselled by gods. His pants came off afterwards, slowly and dragging.
He was standing there, completely naked, all of him wrapped in silver light—and I… I did not know how to breathe.
His body was perfection. Muscular. Powerful. Lean. Every curve, every scar, every line of muscle spoke a thousand words. My wolf stirred deep inside me, responding instinctively.
I was blushing so hard it hurt.
"R-Can you undress a little more quickly next time?" I mumbled, covering my face.
Andrew's chuckle was low and fond. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."
He fell to his knees, his eyes locked on mine, his face serious.
"Here we go."
Then it started.
The transition wasn't fast. It wasn't like the blur of pain and violence I'd seen with other wolves.
This was art. This was grace.
Bones shifted under skin with a whispering sound. His frame expanded, lengthened. Silken silver fur burst forth, rippling across his body like moonlight made flesh. Claws sprouted. A tail unfurled. And his eyes-those burning red Alpha eyes—remained locked on me through it all.
In the place where Andrew had been sitting, a creature of pure majesty.
A big silver wolf, strong and majestic, glinted like starlight. His presence was magnetic, powerful, but not intimidating. He didn't move, didn't lunge or pounce.
He just sat there. Waiting for me. Watching.
I was stunned. In awe. My jaw was hanging loose, and I… I didn't even know what to say. The words weren't enough for how I felt.
He was handsome.
Breathtakingly, utterly handsome.
My feet took a long time to move. I closed the gap between us, step by step, slowly, until I was inches from him.
He leaned in, his massive muzzle lying gently on my cheek, nudging me as if I were his whole world.
His scent surrounded me. Wild. Safe. Home.
My fingers touched his fur. Silky. Thick. Warm. I sank into it, running my hands over his neck, his shoulders, as if memorizing the feel of him.
"You're…" I breathed, voice cracking just barely. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Andrew whined, low and gentle, and then, without warning, he licked the side of my face, warm and wet and very wolf.
I laughed. I laughed.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, I didn't feel broken. I didn't feel like I belonged.
I felt like I was home.
Here. With him.