The Broken Luna

Chapter 2 Fallon

The birds were singing outside my window again. I hated those damn birds. Out of all the trees to build a nest on, they picked the one right outside my window and I hadn’t gotten a silent morning in months. I normally woke up later, but since those f*****g birds set up camp, I had started getting up at dawn. I laid in my bed until the summer sunshine started peaking through the windows. Mira would be waking soon. I knew today was a big day for her. At midnight, it would be her 18th birthday, her first shift. It also would be the anniversary of her parents’ deaths. I desperately wanted to see her, to make sure she was okay. Ever since I had come of age, my wolf never shut up about Mira. Not that I could blame him, she was gorgeous.

I dressed plainly, in gray joggers and a black tshirt. I made my way downstairs to the guest wing and waited until her scent hit me: she smelled like those apple pastries she made. I wondered if she tasted like them, too. I quickly shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away like an etch a sketch. I watched as she quietly closed her door behind herself and started tiptoeing to the kitchen. She was truly beautiful. Her long, snow white hair was in a long ponytail. I was always blown away by how white it was. Mira’s father had been the second born son of the Northern Moonstone Pack Alpha. Almost everyone in the Northern Moonstone Pack had perfectly white hair and perfectly white wolves to help them blend into the snow that fell on their lands year-round, but it still fascinated me to see it retain that color this far south. Her father had met her mother when he was visiting the other packs in search of a mate. Second-borns have all the makings of an alpha, but no claim to lead, so most left their pack as soon as they came of age. Mira looked just like her mother, except for her hair. I always wanted to touch it to see if it was soft and cool like snow. She had a heart shaped face with cheekbones that could cut glass. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as the Caribbean sea with streaks of green and gold bursting out of the center. Her lips were a dusty pink color and so full that she almost always looked pouty. Her shirt exposed a tiny bit of her pale midriff, teasing me. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra from the outline of her n*****s against the soft cotton. She didn’t really need one, being a werewolf, her breasts would never sag despite the fact that they were very large. Most she-wolves wore them for modesty, but Mira didn’t care about all that. She was what we called “one with the trees.”

She spent most of her free time, what little she had, prancing through our vast forest and frolicking in the river. I remembered the first night I shifted, she was 16 and I picked up her scent deep in the woods. I tracked it to a tree, and when I looked up, she was napping, naked, on one of the large branches. I knew that her n*****s were the same dusty rose as her lips. I wanted to pull that little shirt off of her just to get one more peak.

“Fallon, what are you doing here?” she sighed, pulling me out of my imagination. s**t, she caught me. I knew she meant why I was in the guest wing, but I decided to try and play it off.

"Um, I live here. I'm hungry, so I was coming to see if you'd make my plate a little early," I sounded so lame! I was trying so hard not to smile just because she was speaking to me. Normally, when she saw me, she let out a little squeak and ran off before I could get two words out. I never thought much of it, pack members normally went one of two ways: fangirling over me because I was their future Alpha or scared of me because I was their future Alpha.

"Oh, um, of course, just follow me to the kitchen. What did you want me to make for you?" she asked. I heard her stifle a groan and at first thought that she was annoyed about having to cook earlier than usual, until I smelled her arousal. f**k. I tried to shift so that she couldn’t see my dickprint get hard against my sweatpants.

"You know those little pastries you make? With the apples and the um…" why couldn’t I think of the word? I snapped my fingers as I searched for the name of the spice that’s scent was already filling the hallway from Mira.

“Cinnamon?” she squeaked with a small giggle. She was so f*****g cute.

"Yeah, the apples and cinnamon. I love those things," I breathed out, hoping that she was nose blind to her own scent like most wolves.

She nodded her head and motioned for me to follow her. I tried really hard not to stare at her heart-shaped butt as it jiggled in those leggings, but damn she did not make it easy. I don’t know if she was swaying her hips on purpose or if that was how she always walked, but I was fixated like a magnet. She got out all the ingredients to make the puff pastry and was kneading it together. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the way the white flour clung to her clothes and skin, the way her muscles shifted as she rolled and pressed the dough. I noticed her eyes fluttering just before she fell and dove to catch her, gently placing her head in my lap. My wolf was showing me images of very different ways Mira’s head could be in my lap and I shook my head to clear it. I did indulge myself a little and gently pushed her hair back from her face, it was soft and cool like snow.