His Broken Luna

Chapter5

“I hope differently in a good way.” He winked at me as he led me toward the stairs ahead of us, with Amara on our heels. “Our pack is one of the strongest in the country because we take care of each other, and our loyalty is strong. We trade with other packs in the area; we mainly have our hands in architecture. We built most of the homes and buildings you see, including the pack house,” he said proudly, his voice carrying a level of confidence.

As he spoke, I glanced around again, truly taking everything in this time. The town wasn’t just built—it felt crafted. Every structure looked intentional, strong yet beautiful, as if each stone and beam had been placed with care and purpose. There was a sense of unity woven into everything, like the very land itself had been shaped by people who loved it deeply. I see why he was so proud of his home. You can tell by the warmth, the detail, that this wasn’t just a pack–but a home.

As we approached a long hallway, “Alrighty, your room will be at the end of the hallway. Jaxon can show you where you can put your stuff and clean up. The pack is getting the picnic for the BBQ set-up, so you can get a couple of hours of rest before heading back down.”

“Thank you, Amara.” I gave her a warm smile, and she walked over to me and gave me a tight hug. “You're welcome, honey. I know this is new to you, and I see in your eyes that you have had a tough few years, but I promise you that you are safe here.” There’s that word again….safe, am I truly safe here? I mentally shake the thoughts from my head and focus my attention back on her. She stepped back, looked me up and down, and smiled before she turned and headed back down the stairs.

I watched as her back disappeared halfway down the hallway, and I slowly turned to the man who was patiently waiting for me. He was leaning against the wall with his arms across his broad chest. He watched me with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Umm… your mom is nice,” I said nervously, in a low voice.

He pushed off the wall and stalked towards me. I took a step back, bumping into the wall behind me. He was now in front of me, placing both hands on either side of my head as he leaned in close, his face just inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat. I could feel his breath fan across my face as he bent closer to my ear, smelling faintly of mint. A flush crept up my neck to my face.

“You know,” he said, lowly, leaning against my ear, his lips barely grazing it, “when you blush, your freckles turn a beautiful shade of brown.”

“I-I didn’t….um…know that,” I said, barely getting the words out. He leaned back slightly, his eye scanning my face before settling on my lips. “And these lips…” he growled. I placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. I was not ready for this–– or him. “That’s not what your body is saying.” Nova teased in my mind.

“Um…I’ve been on the road for a while and would like to clean myself up.” I said quickly, changing the subject.

He stood there for a moment longer, still watching me intently, before finally taking a step back and allowing me to catch my breath.

“This way, little wolf.” He ushered me to the room, closest to the end of the hall.

He opened a door to a massive bedroom that smelled of him. I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent. When I felt his presence behind me, my eyes snapped open, and I hurriedly stepped to the side. I started to look around the room. The walls were a dark blue, almost black, you wouldn’t be able to tell during the night, giving the room a dark, masculine feel. Rich wood accents softened the place just enough to make it welcoming. A massive king-size bed, dressed in forest green and gray sheets that looked expensive and well-kept. Behind it, a stone accent wall stretched to the ceiling, with a modern fireplace beneath a mounted TV. The scent of sandalwood, leather, and cinnamon lingered in the air, with a faint trace of mint. Large windows give us an overlook of the forest outside, sunlight spilling through. Near the windows sat a chocolate leather chair beside a bookshelf filled with novels, pack records, and scattered papers. In the far corner, a heavy oak desk stood, organized but clearly used frequently. Despite the size of the room, it didn’t feel cold; it felt lived-in, safe.

“The bathroom is over there,” he pointed to a door on the far left side of the room. “I see you only have your bookbag. If you need clothes, you can search through the drawers or the closet.”

My brows furrowed, “I’m not wearing another female’s clothes.” I scoffed.

“No other female, other than my mother and close relatives, has entered this room. You are the first."