Full Moon's Luna

The Move

"Mommy, can you help me with my bed? I unpacked all my clothes and toys and put them where they belong."

I glanced over at Khalil, his bright eyes sparkling with pride. There was a smudge of dust on his cheek, likely from rummaging through boxes, but he looked so determined it made my chest tighten with warmth. Despite how overwhelming the move had been, he was adjusting better than I could have hoped.

"Good job, baby," I said, kneeling to ruffle his soft curls. They smelled faintly of his kid’s shampoo, a mix of watermelon and something sweet I couldn’t place. "Don’t worry about your bed. I’ll push it against the wall and get it all set for you. Go grab your pajamas. It’s bath time, and then straight to bed. You need your rest for tomorrow—your first day at your new school!"

He grinned but hesitated for a moment, his small hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "What if the kids don’t like me?" His voice came out quieter, his bravado slipping.

My heart cracked just a little. Kneeling to meet his gaze, I cupped his face in my hands, feeling the warmth of his soft, chubby cheeks. "They’re going to love you, Khalil. You’re brave, kind, and smart. Besides, you’ve got your martial arts skills if anyone gives you trouble, right?"

He nodded, the faint shadow of worry lifting from his face. "Yeah. I’m a black belt now!"

"That’s right, my little warrior. Now go grab those pajamas." I gave him a gentle nudge, and he scampered off, his little footsteps thudding softly against the wooden floor.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, the smile slipping from my face as I looked around the room. The weekend had been a whirlwind of packing, traveling, and unpacking—the shortest and most exhausting weekend of my life. But as I took in the faint scent of fresh paint mingling with the crisp mountain air seeping through the open window, I felt a flicker of peace. This small town, Full Moon, already felt like the escape we so desperately needed.

It had been three long years since my world had fallen apart. Three years since Khalil’s father walked away from us. The memory still burned—his hollow excuses, the way he couldn’t even look me in the eye as he left. For so long, I’d been paralyzed by the weight of his absence, stuck in a cycle of sadness and resentment. But one morning, it was like a switch flipped. I woke up, stared at the ceiling, and thought, This is not the life I want for us.

Now here we were, starting over. I’d worked hard to ensure Khalil’s future was secure—running my trucking company, managing rental properties—but financial stability wasn’t enough. I wanted him to thrive. To be surrounded by love, laughter, and possibility. And this move was as much for him as it was for me.

The past few months had been tough on him. He’d started getting into fights at school, saying boys teased him about his dad not loving him. It shattered me to hear him say it so matter-of-factly, even as he tried to act like it didn’t bother him. But Khalil had a fire in him, and his martial arts training had given him the confidence to fight back—literally and figuratively. Still, I wanted more for him. Full Moon had the best martial arts program in the country, and I hoped it would encourage him to channel that strength into something positive. And, as corny as it sounds, I’ve always loved full moons. The town’s name felt like fate.

Once I finished arranging Khalil’s bed, I tucked him in under the soft, navy-blue comforter he insisted on bringing from our old house. "Sweet dreams, baby," I whispered, brushing a kiss against his forehead. He yawned and closed his eyes, his breathing evening out within minutes as I told him one of my made-up bedtime stories.

The house was quiet now, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams settling and the distant rustle of wind through the trees outside. I stood in the doorway of his room for a moment, letting the calm wash over me. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few months.

Our new home was a dream—a two-story cabin with a modern twist. The Calcutta gold marble floors gleamed in the dim light, and the tall windows offered a perfect view of the starlit sky. The kitchen, with its black stainless steel appliances and matching marble countertops, looked like something out of a magazine. And the backyard, with its sprawling lawn and sparkling pool, was everything I’d envisioned for Khalil.

After one last check on him, I headed to my master bathroom. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air as I ran a steaming hot bath, pouring in my homemade bubble bath mix. The jacuzzi jets hummed softly as I adjusted the caddy tray to hold my wine glass, book, and speaker remote. Soon, the soothing twang of a country ballad drifted through the air.

Sliding into the water, I let out a long sigh as the heat enveloped me, melting away the tension in my muscles. The bubbles tickled against my skin, and the faint aroma of vanilla from the candles I’d lit added to the cozy atmosphere. I sipped my wine slowly, savoring its rich, fruity notes as I flipped through the pages of my book. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax. Tomorrow would be a new beginning, and for the first time in years, I felt ready to face it.

The faint chime of wind chimes stirred me awake, their soft melody carried by the morning breeze. Stretching lazily, I inhaled the crisp, pine-scented air drifting through the open balcony door. Damone’, my wolf, was unusually calm today, but there was an underlying buzz of anticipation in the back of my mind. It had been three years since we’d decided to wait for our mate, and he’d been restless ever since. Lately, though, he’d been insistent: She’s close.

Skepticism tugged at me. My family’s curse had hung over us for decades, leaving us mate-less and burdened with secrecy. Fated mates were the cornerstone of pack strength and leadership, and without them, whispers of doubt and unrest were never far away. But today felt different. Maybe it was the breeze or the soft glow of sunlight creeping over the horizon, but something in the air whispered of change.

After a quick shower, the heat of the water waking me fully, I patted myself dry and wrapped a towel around my waist. The earthy scent of cedarwood from my lotion lingered as I stepped into my walk-in closet, scanning the rows of neatly hung clothes.

Today called for something sharp. I chose fitted navy trousers and a crisp white button-down that hugged my chest and shoulders, pairing them with dark brown dress shoes. From my watch drawer, I retrieved my granddad’s gold watch. The circular slot in its center had always puzzled me, as if it were waiting for something to complete it. My father once said the missing piece would reveal itself when the curse was broken. A hopeful thought, but I had my doubts.

After fastening a gold necklace with a wolf howling, I made my way downstairs. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm golden patterns on the hardwood floors. As I poured the coffee and began mixing pancake batter, a sense of certainty settled over me. Today would be different. Today would change everything.