Swapped Luna part 7

Previously…

THORNE

 I walk outside and find Fang nearby, pacing like he’s searching for something. He looks at me and whines, and I instantly realize that something is wrong.

Why isn’t he with Maeve? They were bonding this morning like old friends. I figured he would explore this strange connection to her for a few more days before losing curiosity.

I whistle at Fang and take off toward the lake.

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Presently…

VICTORIA

Why is it so fucking hard to be a werewolf? I figured all these guys did was howl at the moon, lick their paws, and chase humans to the dark ages. But it looks like they much more going on.

I sigh and touch my swollen ankle. It’s healing at incredible speeds, but I know that it won’t support my weight. I won’t make it back home in this condition.

That mansion is not your home. You’re a peasant, not a princess. Don’t get used to these luxuries, I quickly remind myself.

I’m trying so hard to do the right thing and get what I need to return to Europe, but the royal Alpha is a royal pain in my ass. I sent him a cupcake and waited all evening for him to come to the lake, only to spend it with Fang instead.

After a few hours of boredom, I decided to try and learn how to shift. It might be useful for the day I strangle Thorne and have to dash into the woods to escape his cult members yielding torches and pitchforks.

Shifting is harder than it looks. I’ve been focusing on it all evening. I tried everything from meditation to hocus pocus chants to begging the moon goddess, and I still can’t shift. I was sure that yoga would do the trick. Fang watched me as I descended to madness in my attempts to grow fur, claws and fangs. He also watched me lose my balance in the middle of my yoga and land awkwardly on an ankle.

I must say, Fang is a dedicated son of a bitch because he—or she—didn’t care to shift back to their human form and help me. All Fang did was whine before running off.

I rub my ankle, wondering what else I could possibly do to shift. Thorne made it look so easy. Could it have been a hallucination?

Honestly, after all these injuries, reality is starting to blur. Maybe this is a fucked up dream, after all. It would be a shame, because I was really killing those warrior poses. 

I perk up when I hear approaching footsteps. Many people have appeared  in the distance, but I’ve been too embarrassed to cry out for help.

It looks like someone is coming my way. When I face who it is, I groan.

It’s the royal pain in my ass. He has shown up hours late, and has found me looking like an utter fool as I sit on the ground and cradle my leg.

Thorne slows down his pace as he observes me. Fang reaches me first, nudging me with his snout and whining.

Fang is the most sensitive werewolf I’ve met. I’m starting to suspect they are a teenager or a child.

“What have you done now?” Thorne asks, sighing as he falls to a knee beside me.

“Rescued a couple of orphans from a fire. You're welcome.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you were helping baby birds learn to fly when you fell of the fucking balcony.” He grunts. “You’re always screwing around. How did you get this injury?”

“I’m fine,” I reply, refusing to admit the buffoonery I’ve been up to. “I should be able to walk soon.”

“If you shift, you will heal faster.”

“I know. I’m just…enjoying the view.”

I can’t shift to save my life. A story I read said that werewolves instinctively shift on full moons and are unable to control the change. Maybe I just have to wait until then.

He groans as he sits besides Fang.

“Uh…what are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to heal. I won’t carry you because I don’t want to disturb you from enjoying the view.”

I snort, before remembering that is unladylike. “You won’t carry me because you would be tempted to drop me on my head.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.”

I laugh at the absolute brute. “You’re so mean! And yet the women fawn over you. I wouldn’t be surprised if they attempted to lick your shadow. It’s absurd. If they knew how much you ran that mouth, it would be the end of your fanclub.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I came to ensure you didn’t drown in the lake.”

I smile, staring at the side of his handsome face. “Yes. You’re late, but you came. Hey…what’s that on your cheek?”

“What?” He replies, reaching for his cheek. 

A sprinkle falls off his stubble, and I grin. “Did you enjoy your cupcake?” 

He scowls. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I made you a cupcake, and you clearly devoured it. Did you like it?”

He huffs. “Nonsense. I am an Alpha. Cupcakes have no place in my diet.”

“Bullshit! You tore that damn cupcake up!”

I remind myself to curse less. I’m being too much like myself. Not ladylike at all.

“I did not!” He growls. Making that scary, but electrifying sound that I’m still getting used to. The sound rumbles through the air and penetrates my skin. It does something to my bones and ovaries.

“I don’t eat pastries. My diet is strictly carnivorous.”

When I first laid eyes on Thorned, I fully believed that he eats the hearts of his enemies for dinner. His eyes are so cold and hard, and the rest of his body is no less brutal. But I’m starting to believe he’s somewhat soft.

“There must be some shit on that diet too, because you’re full of it.”

He snaps his head at me, his lips opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to reply. No one else dares to speak to him this way. “You insolent little—“

I blow him a kiss just for the giggles. I’m playing with fire. This massive, blue-blood werewolf could kill me with a swipe of his hand, but he looks so fucking sexy with his jaw clenched and his eyes sizzling. I enjoy riling him up.

“Don’t hate the player. Hate the game. And the game is baking.” I pretend to roll my sleeves up. “I’ll bake you some crepes tomorrow. You can pretend that Fang ate them if it will make you sleep better at night, but we both know you’re going to lick that plate clean.”

He groans and runs a hand down his face. “I should have made my men build your balcony higher. Falling from few more feet would have done the trick.”

“Hey!” I laugh at the ruthless Alpha. “That’s so screwed up.”

He chuckles, staring at my injured ankle. “It’s only a joke, Maeve. We both know that you’ll find a way to kill your self long before I do. You’ve been impossibly clumsy lately. It’s truly a mystery.”

A mystery? Sure. But I think his moon goddess just got bored and decided to play Uno with my life. 

“Yeah. Quite the mystery.”

We stare at the lake, basking in the gentle wind as Fang lowers his head and takes a nap.

Now it’s just me and the mean Alpha werewolf who I managed to make laugh today. It’s a small feat. A spark of unison within our dark, fucked up relationship. He hates me—hates Maeve, but some vibrations echo through the ice around his heart. In time, I will shatter that ice.

I wonder if this would be a good time to mention wanting a job or a loan, but I decide against it. He doesn’t trust me enough yet and I don’t want him to think I’m using him for money or opportunities.

We stay by the lake for another thirty minutes, enjoying the quiet. I wonder what’s running through his head, but I don’t dare to speak up. It’s rare when there’s peace between us and it would be a shame to disturb it.

“It’s dark,” he says minutes later, rising to his feet. “We must return.”

I roll my ankle. It’s healed. The only sensation that remains is a slight numbness.

“Alright,” I reply, instinctively reaching up to grab his hand that hangs beside him, and hoist myself up.

I only realize my mistake when I find him staring at our entwined hands.

“Sorry,” I say, smiling sheepishly. 

Fang stretches and comes between us. Thorne is the first to unclasp our hands and turn away.

I follow him as he heads home, a smile curving my lips.

“So, same time tomorrow?” I ask.

“Don’t push it.”

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