MY LUNA

THIRST

“You really need to switch from butter to something.” Asher looks confused at my random statement and gesture at him again, “Whatever soap you're using is making you smell like a pastry.” He frowns, “I smell like butter?” “And sea salt,” I mutter incoherently “What?” “Nothing.” I shrug and fold my arms, “Are you making it a habit to keep following me?” His nostrils flare in anger, “I warned you.” “Did you?” “You broke Alpha Jones's rule.” I raise an eyebrow, “So did you.” Asher's jaw tightens visibly and i smile knowing that I can rile up a reaction from him just from existing. “Are you going to drag me all the way to Father? You better get in line behind me then.”

“Why are your eyes black?” I look away immediately and fix it back to silver before turning, “It was the alcohol.” Asher looks disgusted, “You drink?” “Don't judge.” I turn and leave him standing, “Come on, we have to make it back before dark.” He falls in step close to me, “What were you doing in the town? Who gave you those roses? How did you eyes turn back to silver so fast?” “Geez, Mr reporter. Mind giving me a second to catch my breath first?” “Are you going to answer them if I do?” I smile sweetly at him, “No.” He keeps quiet for a while before asking again, “How can you tell my scent from miles away?” I halt in the next step I'll take and turn to look at him. For a split second, we share something but then I look away immediately and abandon the thought. “Maybe because you're always up in my business.”

“I'm serious, Ciara.” Stopping immediately, I turn to fully look at him, “Can we just get through this long walk back without speaking to each other or trying to pretend there's even a semblance of familiarity left between us? Because I could certainly live with that.” “How did you get to town so fast? I'm a wolf and even after shifting, you were here before me.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn to continue walking and feel slight relief that he keeps beside me, “Yes, well in case you haven't noticed, there's these things called cars that transport you.” I can feel him shake his head, “No, you didn't come here by car. There weren't any tracks. And besides, cars arent allowed at the border.”

Annoyed that Asher has been frustratingly keeping an eye on me, I shrug it off, “Who knows? Maybe I just appeared and disappeared.” He reaches out to place a hand in front of me, prompting me to stop. “You're hiding something from me, Ciara.” “Shocking news.” Asher hesitates as he places his hands in his pockets. I watch his stance because I haven't seen a nervous Asher since the day I forced him to learn how to swim years back. He avoids my eyes at first before looking directly at me, the silver in them captivating. “Have you by any chance wolfed out?” It's like a slap across the face.

I count to three in my head and clench and unclench my fists before giving him a blank look, “Why is that any of your concern?” “Nothing–I, I just-” “You just what?” Asher's eyes widen a bit when he notices my harsh tone. He looks down and nods, “Never mind. I'm sorry.” Asher hasn't apologised to me in ages so I'm a little taken aback by his sudden apology. Before I can say anything though, he abruptly takes his shirt off.

“What are you doing?” My own eyes widen now and I know that werewolves are not sensitive about nudity but something about Asher's bronze skin makes me look away. He doesn't answer me and proceeds to take off his pants as well. This time, i look my fill as I give him an arched brow look, “I hate to be the harbinger of bad news, but the last thing on my mind right now is getting sweaty with you.” I had meant it as a joke, but the stormy expression in Asher's eyes means he took it far. Gulping hard, I'm forced to look away from him. “It's getting late. We won't get back to the border on foot before it's dark let alone the pack village.

Your father will begin looking for you soon. We need to hurry.” I finally parse the meaning behind his actions and nod. Asher hands me his clothes and i collect them from him. Drawing them tight to me. He looks at me still in his large drawers.

“Why are you helping me?” “I'm not.” I smile at his answer and gesture at his undercutting, “Aren't you going to take that off?” I expect a snort, a scowl even or an angry expression. What I did not expect was for Asher's lips to curl in smugness, “Wouldn't you like to know?” Holy s**t.

My hearts speeds up for no particular reason. I step back and watch the most beautiful thing to ever exist. Werewolf shifting. What stands in front of me isn't Asher anymore. It's his dark wolf. All powerful muscles and lustrous fur, standing majestically on four claws. He advances forward and I have to pinch my palm to stop from retreating. Asher's wolf–just like him, avoids eye contact with me. It comes to rest at my feet, head bowed and facing the other side.

Moving tentatively, I climb onto it's back and hold on tight to the fur around its neck. Asher huffs and the vibration it sends through me is addicting. Soon, we're journeying through the woods at such a speed that to any passerby, we would seem like a passing object.

The wind laps at our hair, caressing the planes of my face softly. It also carries the scent that I've been trying so hard to forget for almost a year now. Too bad for me that now that literally sitting down him, I can even taste it. I think my favourite flavours now are butter and sea salt.