His Possessive Luna

Concerns

Mom has talked to Dad and they’ve agreed to my condition. I finally feel a little more in control, like I’m not completely being pushed into a corner. It gives me a momentary sense of peace, even if it’s a fragile one.

I had already made plans with my friends to go out to the club tonight. Honestly, I don’t feel like going anymore. I’d rather stay in bed and stare at the ceiling or maybe just cry and not explain myself to anyone. But I was the one who suggested the plan in the first place, so backing out now would be lame. And they’ll definitely notice something’s off.

If my parents ever find out we’ve been sneaking out to clubs—underage and drinking—they’ll literally lose their minds. Clubs and alcohol are completely off-limits for us, and we know it. But we’ve managed to sneak out a few times, and by some miracle, no one’s caught us. Yet.

I spend almost an hour deciding what to wear, and trust me, I hate this part. I wanted to wear something simple and comfortable, but I didn’t want to stand out either—well, not in a bad way. After trying on four outfits and discarding them all like a frustrated tornado, I finally settle on a black, off-shoulder crop top paired with tight black jeans. I throw on some high heels, swipe on red lipstick, and curl my hair into soft waves. I even remember to grab a jacket before leaving—the autumn air outside is freezing but oddly refreshing, like a cold slap that wakes you up.

When we arrive at the club, it’s packed to the brim and the music is blasting—so loud that it feels like my heartbeat is syncing with the bass. I instantly regret coming. The place is too crowded, too chaotic, and honestly, the music isn’t even good tonight.

Coming here was a bad idea.

Still, we go for our first round of drinks. I don’t usually drink, and it’s definitely not a habit I want to form, but tonight—I need to shut out reality. I need to forget everything for a little while.

“Let’s get drunk! Who knows when we’ll get this opportunity again?” Ray shouts, already holding his second drink.

“We are not dying or something. You’re saying it like it’s our last night alive,” Amelia says, raising a brow at him.

“Right, we’re not dying,” I chime in, “but we won’t be together after a few months either. You all will join your mates' packs and... we’ll have to part ways.”

I know that’s life. People come, people go. You meet some, you lose some. But just the thought of being away from them, from this—it hurts more than I can describe. I can’t even imagine what it will feel like when we actually say goodbye.

“Let’s enjoy the moment while it lasts,” Ray adds, finishing his drink in one big gulp.

After a few more drinks, Jo and Ray disappear into the dancing crowd, swaying to some upbeat Spanish number.

And you really have to give it to the Spanish—their songs? Absolutely addictive.

I order another drink, and so does Amelia. As we sip in silence, I remember the conversation we had started a few days ago—the one we never finished.

“Why have you been so out of it lately?” I ask gently, noticing how her face falls almost instantly. For a second, I think she’s going to shut down and avoid the topic. But then, she opens up.

“I’ve been feeling... strange. Restless, like there’s this hole in my chest I can’t fill. I don’t know what it is, but it’s driving me insane. There’s this void in my heart and it’s aching—but I don’t know why.”

Her voice shakes a little and I can see she’s scared—maybe even more confused than scared.

“Well, I’m no expert in emotional breakdowns, but maybe it’s just nerves. You know... leaving the pack, moving somewhere new. That stuff messes with people. It messes with me too.”

“I hope it’s just that,” she says, voice quiet. “But the feeling is... different. I talked to a couple of people and they said it sounds like what someone feels when they’re about to meet their fated mate.”

Crap.

This is bad.

She already has a chosen mate, and both families are close. If some fated mate suddenly shows up out of the blue, it’s going to explode into one hell of a drama. I don't know what to say—I’ve never experienced something like this and I’ve never had a mate situation to compare it to.

“I really don’t think so, Amelia. Fated mates are practically extinct. You know that. It’s probably just the stress of exams and the pressure of leaving school and home all at once.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe,” she mutters, her expression torn between nervousness and irritation.

I really hope it’s just anxiety from all the changes happening around her. Because if she’s right about the mate thing, she’s walking straight into a mess. And as her best friend, I can’t help but worry.

The night goes on and, eventually, we all get drunk. Honestly, I had to get drunk after hearing what Amelia said—it was too much for me to handle sober.

I don’t remember much after that. I guess I made it back home somehow. The next thing I know, I’m passed out in my room. Thank the Moon Goddess no one saw me sneak back in.

If Dad ever finds out I went to a club and got wasted, I’m toast.

My alarm starts ringing, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I can’t move. My body feels like it’s made of stone, and I can barely open my eyes. Thankfully, it’s Sunday, so I can go back to sleep. The moment I slam the alarm shut, I drift into a deep, heavy sleep again.

In my dream, I find myself walking through a forest blanketed in snow. It’s bitterly cold, and each step I take makes a crunch beneath my feet. The air is sharp against my skin, but somehow I keep moving.

Suddenly, I catch the most intoxicating scent. It’s... indescribable. Sweet, smoky, warm—completely alluring. I follow it through the trees, drawn like a magnet until I emerge into a wide, open clearing.

Standing there is a massive wolf with jet-black fur and piercing grey eyes. He’s majestic, powerful, and something about him pulls me in. I walk closer, unable to stop myself.

All I want is to be near him. To touch him. To stay with him forever.

But just as I’m about to reach him, a low growl echoes behind me. I turn around and see another black wolf—but this one has icy blue eyes and golden fur lining his neck.

His scent is just as powerful. Just as irresistible.

Before I can make sense of what’s happening, they both start growling—and then they charge at each other.

I wake up gasping, my body covered in sweat. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to steady my breath. What the hell was that? A dream? A warning?

I glance at the clock. It’s already 3 p.m.

Dragging myself out of bed, I head straight to the shower. The warm water calms my nerves a little, but I can’t get that dream out of my head.

Once I’m done, I practically sprint to the dining room—I’m starving.

Mom is already sitting there, sipping her coffee. She gives me a concerned look and tells the house help to bring me breakfast.

“You slept for quite a while. We were worried,” she says, her voice soft. “I checked on you twice thinking you might have a fever. You only sleep that long when you’re sick.”

“I had a lot of work to do,” I lie smoothly. “Final months of school and there’s this big research project. I stayed up really late working on it.”

“It’s okay to work hard,” Mom says, “but don’t wear yourself out. Your health comes first.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll be more careful next time.”

She smiles, but I can still see the worry in her eyes.

If only she knew what was really going on.