One Night Stand, Lifetime of Bonds

Spark Mia's POV Flour blowing into the air, I wipe my hands on my apron. There is a lot of noise during the festival, with laughter and music filling the town square of Silverwood. My booth has the lovely, spicy scent of warm pumpkin pies. Coins clinking in my jar, people grinning as they eat pieces. The Harvest Moon Festival makes everyone joyful, which is why I adore this night. Above the cobblestone street, lanterns dangle on strings and shine like tiny stars. I smile at a child who snatches an extra pie as I push back my wavy hair that is stuck to my sweaty forehead. "Just one, Sammy!" I wag my finger in agreement. With his mouth full of laughter, he flees. My favourite thing is baking, and I'm twenty-five. One day, I hope to open my own bakery with large windows and an abundance of pies. I'm content here for the time being, selling sweets beneath the large, round moon. The audience starts to thin out as it gets late. Even though my feet hurt, I'm still grinning. A man with dark hair and blue eyes that sparkle like the sky approaches, tall and powerful. He is older—perhaps thirty—and has a scar on his jaw that gives him a rough yet compassionate appearance. His smile is comforting, like a warm blanket. He leans on my booth and remarks, "Those pies smell good." I get butterflies in my stomach when I hear his rich voice. "Thank you! Do you want one? I quickly and confidently sliced a slice. His fingertips graze mine as he takes it. My cheeks feel hot, as if a tiny spark leaps between us. He takes a bite and says, "My name is Lucas." "I've never had a better pie than this one." My heart does a humorous dance as I chuckle. "My name is Mia. You're just saying that, too! "Really, no!" He smiles, and we converse. He's funny; he tells me he enjoys the forest and asks about my favourite pies. He keeps staring at me as if I were unique. The festival feels enchanted, and the moon is now high, large, and silver. We have a cool, sweet apple cider together. It gives me courage. "Want to take a stroll?" Lucas points to a peaceful trail near the trees and asks. Despite the fact that I do not know him, my heart says yes. There's something familiar and secure about him. The music fades behind us as we walk. I shiver because the air is cold. Lucas pulls his jacket off and drapes it across my shoulders. It smells of something wild and pine. We discover an old but comfortable tiny home in the woods, lighted softly by a lantern. Even though my heart is racing, I'm not afraid. Lucas gives me a gentle look. He murmurs, "Mia, you're different." I'm not sure why, but I will take a step forward. It feels like the moon is drawing us closer together as he strokes my cheek. It's warm and sweet, like my pies, but better, when we kiss. We remain in the cabin, close and content, the outside world forgotten, and the night feels like a dream. The bed feels cold when I wake up. Lucas has left. No farewell, no note. It feels like someone squeezed my heart too hard. I shake my hands as I tug on my dress. There is only a lantern flickering out of the empty cabin. The moon continues to watch as I make my way back to town, but it feels lonely now. Did I make a mistake? To him, was it merely a game? I tell myself I'm fine as I wipe my eyes. I am Mia, the grin-inducing baker. I'll be alright. I sense a spark, though, as if something significant is about to happen. Furthermore, I have no idea what it means. Lucas's pov With my inner wolf restless, I observe the event from the shadows. Silverwood appears pleasant, with lanterns and laughter, but I've come to keep my pack safe. I’m Lucas, 32, the alpha of the Silverwood werewolves. My job is heavy—every choice I make maintains my pack strong or puts them in danger. My scar itches, a reminder of fights I’ve fought. The pack wants me to find my mate, the one the moon goddess chose for me. They claim it’ll make me a better leader. But I don’t have time for that. Then I smell something—sweet, like flowers and warm bread. It lures me across the square to a booth where a woman stands, her curly brown hair unkempt, her green eyes vibrant. She’s little, with flour on her face, and she’s beaming at everyone. My wolf stirs, growling quietly. She’s different. I walk closer, my boots quiet on the cobblestones. “Those pies smell good,” I add, attempting to seem natural. My wolf wants to run to her, but I hold it back. Her voice is sweet as she smiles. "Thank you! Do you want one? Her fingers brush against mine as she delivers me a slice. I feel like lightning strikes me. She's my wolf, howling. My friend. She is human, though. That is problematic. Our earth is not a place for humans. I would lose the faith of my pack. Mia is her name. She chuckles as we converse, her eyes gleaming. Like the sun on a chilly day, she is warm. I should go, even though I don't want to. Rules don't matter to my wolf. The moon seems to be watching us as we exchange cider. Even though I know it's a horrible idea, I invite her to walk. But I'm unable to quit. In the woods, we locate a cottage that my pack occasionally uses. Only the moonlight and we are in silence. I give her my jacket as she shivers. Her smile tightens my chest. My wolf takes over when I put a hand to her cheek. When we kiss, everything seems to stop. With her warmth against me and her heart pounding beside mine, the night is ideal. I lose sight of my alpha status, the pack, and everything except her. I wake up in the morning with her head resting on my chest. My intellect screams, but my wolf is content. Despite being human, she is my partner. The pack will accuse me of being weak if they find out. I can't take that chance. With tears in my eyes, I slip out. I'm a coward and don't leave a note. My wolf howls in agony as I run across the silent woodland. Her perfume lingers with me, sweet and potent, even if I tell myself it's for the pack. My beta Ethan is waiting for me when I arrive at the pack's lair. With a playful grin, he remarks, "You look rugged, boss." I don't respond. I can't go back, but my wolf wants to. I should leave Mia alone. Nevertheless, I can feel her tugging at my heart like a string as I gaze at the moon as it fades in the sky. Then Ethan narrows his eyes and sniffs the air. "Nearby rogues," he murmurs. I feel chilled. Unless they are on a hunt, rogues never approach Silverwood thus closely. or someone. Alo ne in that hut, thinking of Mia, my wolf growls.