BOUND BY MOONLIGHT

MOONLIGHT

“Another scone?” Pippa offered, her British accent making even carbs sound elegant.

“If I eat another scone, I’m going to turn into one,” I laughed, but took it anyway. We were having afternoon tea in her family’s manor house—an actual manor house with turrets and everything—and I was living my best Jane Austen fantasy.

Pippa Sterling-Ashford had been my roommate at Harvard. We’d stayed close over the years, but I’d never visited her pack territory before. Now I understood why she’d always seemed so unimpressed by American wealth. This place made my family’s estate look like a starter home.

“You seem better today,” Pippa observed, pouring more tea. “Less likely to murder someone.”

“I wasn’t going to murder anyone.”

“Elena. You arrived at three AM in a wedding dress, drank half my father’s whiskey collection, and then spent two hours rage-pacing in the garden. Murder was on the table.”

Fair point.

It had been almost a week since the wedding disaster. Every day, I felt a little less like my world was ending and a little more like maybe I’d dodged a massive bullet.

The floating messages had kept appearing, though:

*[She’s actually healing! Character growth!]*

*[Wait until the Alpha shows up…]*

*[I give it three more days before the big confrontation]*

I’d stopped trying to figure out what they meant. Clearly, I was having some kind of stress-induced hallucination. I’d see a therapist when I got back to the States. If I got back to the States.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” Pippa asked gently. “You can stay here as long as you want, obviously. But eventually…”

“Eventually I have to face the music. I know.” I sighed. “My parents have stopped calling, which is somehow worse than when they were blowing up my phone.”

“What about Adrian?”

Just hearing his name made my wolf whimper. I shoved the feeling down. “What about him?”

“Has he reached out?”

“Constantly. For the first few days.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the message history. After his initial threats and demands, his messages had shifted:

*Adrian: Can we please talk?*

*Adrian: I know I messed up.*

*Adrian: Elena, I’m sorry.*

The apologies had surprised me. Adrian Blackwood didn’t apologize. But they’d also arrived way too late and with way too little explanation.

“I haven’t responded,” I told Pippa.

“Do you want to?”

Did I? Part of me—the part that had spent five years in love with Adrian—wanted to call him back, hear him grovel, maybe work things out. But the stronger part, the part that had felt nothing but relief when I walked away, knew better.

“I don’t think so,” I said finally. “What we had… it wasn’t healthy. He spent months playing games with my emotions, and I let him because I thought that’s what love looked like. It’s not.”

Pippa reached over and squeezed my hand. “Good for you. Honestly, I never liked him.”

“You never met him.”

“I didn’t need to. Any man who puts you through that isn’t worth your time.” She paused. “Although, my cousin might be…”

“No,” I said firmly. “No setups. I’m off men for the foreseeable future.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you date him. But he’s visiting this weekend, and he’s a solicitor. Could help with the legal aspects of breaking the pack alliance.”

That was actually practical. The Sterling-Blackwood alliance wasn’t just a personal relationship—there were actual contracts involved, territory agreements, trade deals.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I could use legal advice.”

Pippa’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and her expression shifted. “Speaking of visitors… Elena, did you tell anyone you were coming here?”

“Just you. Why?”

She turned her phone to show me a message from her head of security:

*Unknown Alpha detected at property boundary. American. Demanding to see Elena Sterling.*

My stomach dropped.

No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t have found me this fast.

But the floating messages were going crazy:

*[HE’S HERE!]*

*[The Alpha tracked her across an ocean!]*

*[This is going to be GOOD]*

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Pippa asked.

I stood up, my hands shaking with anger rather than fear. “That absolute bastard.”

“Do you want me to have security turn him away?”

I thought about it. I could hide. Make him leave. Extend this reprieve a little longer.

Or I could face him now, on my terms, and end this once and for all.

“No,” I said, setting down my teacup with a definitive clink. “Let him in. It’s time Adrian Blackwood learned that I’m not some prize to be won back with a grand gesture.”

Pippa grinned. “That’s my girl. Want me to stay for moral support? Or to punch him if needed?”

“Moral support. I’ll handle the punching myself if necessary.”

Twenty minutes later, I stood in the manor’s formal sitting room, watching through the window as a black town car pulled up the drive. My heart was pounding, but my resolve was steel.

Adrian Blackwood had crossed an ocean to find me.

He was about to learn it was a wasted trip.