Moonbound

2. Bite of the Moon

Elena stood in front of her dorm mirror, adjusting the straps of her Tinkerbell dress for the fifth time. The emerald-green fabric clung to her curves, flaring just above her thighs in a way that made her shift self-consciously.

"Oh my god, stop fussing," Amy groaned from behind her, adjusting the sleek black wig of her Morticia Addams costume. "You look hot. Like, ‘should-be-illegal’ hot. If your broody shifter boy doesn’t combust on sight, I’m revoking his wolf card."

Elena rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the flutter in her stomach. Lucian. They’d been circling each other for weeks—tense conversations, lingering glances, the unspoken thing between them thickening with every shared breath. Tonight, though? Tonight felt different.

A sharp knock at the door cut off Amy’s teasing.

Elena’s pulse spiked.

She opened the door—and there he was.

Lucian stood in the hallway, dressed in a plain black tee and dark jeans, looking unfairly good for a man who’d clearly put zero effort into a costume. His gaze dragged over her, slow and deliberate, lingering on the exposed skin of her legs before climbing back up to her face. His nostrils flared slightly, and his voice came out rougher than usual.

"You’re… sparkly."

Amy snorted. "Wow. Poetry."

Elena ignored her, too busy trying to remember how to breathe under the weight of Lucian’s stare. "It’s Tinkerbell," she said, twirling a little. The dress flared, and his jaw tightened.

"I know what it is." His voice was a low growl.

Amy whistled. "Alright, kids, let’s go before I need a cold shower."

The off-campus house was packed, the air thick with sweat, cheap beer, and the thrum of bass. Elena stayed close to Lucian, their arms brushing as they navigated the crowd. He didn’t dance—not at first—but after two beers and Elena’s relentless teasing, she finally dragged him onto the floor.

"You’re embarrassing me," he muttered, but his hands settled on her hips, pulling her closer than necessary.

"Liar," she shot back, grinning. "You love it."

His grip tightened. "Maybe."

The music pulsed around them, bodies pressing in, but Elena barely noticed anyone else. Not when Lucian’s heat surrounded her, not when his breath ghosted over her ear as he leaned down.

"You’re gonna be the death of me, witch."

She shivered.

By midnight, Elena was exhausted, and Amy had vanished—probably off with some guy, if the flirty texts she’d sent were any indication.

"I’ll walk you back," Lucian said, voice leaving no room for argument.

The night air was cool against her skin as they stepped outside, the moon hanging heavy and bright above them. Elena’s magic hummed in response, restless under its glow.

"So," she said after a quiet moment, "why’d you come all the way here for school? I thought wolves stayed close to their packs."

Lucian tensed, just slightly. "Most do."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "But not you?"

He exhaled sharply, conflicted emotions rolling off him in waves—something her empathy latched onto instantly. Pride. Duty. Restlessness.

"I’m next in line," he admitted. "Alpha. CEO. The whole legacy." His father had struck a deal—business degree in exchange for summers spent interning, learning the ropes. "But sometimes… I just need space. To breathe."

Elena understood. More than he knew.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Me too."

He glanced at her, surprised.

"My coven expects things," she continued. "Certain traditions. Certain… choices." She hesitated. "Sometimes it’s nice to just be Elena. Not the witch, not the healer. Just me."

Lucian studied her for a long moment before nodding, slow and understanding. "Yeah."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sound of laughter and the rustle of leaves. Then—

"Elena."

She turned—just as Lucian stepped into her space, his hands cradling her face. His eyes burned gold in the moonlight.

"Tell me to stop."

Her breath hitched. "I won’t."

And then his lips were on hers.