All Chapters of Moonbound to a Human: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Asher DravenHart."Third question..." She said, still looking at her hands, though her tone sharpened a fraction, her bratty armor reassembling, "Why do you keep saying 'future Luna' like it's a job posting? Is that what, some kind of title? Like... pack queen? Pack mom? Pack HR?"Rowan let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a cough, rough and controlled. It lasted about half a second before it betrayed him and turned into a laugh he tried to swallow. He covered his mouth with his fist, shoulders jerking like he was battling it, eyes squeezed shut in a heroic attempt at composure.It failed spectacularly.A second later Rowan's breath hitched, and he burst out laughing. A full bodied, helpless laugh, the kind that made it impossible to try and convince others you weren't amused. He turned slightly away, like that helped, but the sound still filled the study, ricocheting off the bookshelves and making the firelight feel a little bit brighter.Savannah whipped her head toward hi

Asher DravenHart "I'm fine." I said, my voice shaking slightly, "Just trying to keep control."Her cheeks flushed faintly again, and she looked away fast as if staring at my eyes too long might make me change.I kept my grip gentle as I led her out of the study. The hallway felt quieter than before, less crowded. The sconces threw light across the dark wood. The house smelled of smoke and pine. Somewhere far off, a door shut softly, more than likely Rowan finally setting in. Wind scratched at the windows as I pulled her along the hallway, like it wanted to be let in. Savannah walked beside me, close enough that I could feel her tremble through our hand when the house creaked. She glanced at around at everything as we passed, cataloging exits.I didn't blame her.At the end of the hall, I stopped at a door with a simple iron handle. My room."Our room now." I opened it and stepped aside so she could enter before me.Savannah took one cautious step over the threshold. Froze. And gaspe

Savannah Whitlock.I tried to keep moving, to keep my hands busy, but eventually the room's warmth started to win. Ever since I came in from the cold, I could never quite get warm again, even standing next to the fire in the entry way. But when I grabbed Asher's hand, it was like his demeanor pushed all of the cold out of me. I turned away from the nightstand and leaned against the bed.It looked like sin wrapped in crimson silk.I gave up resisting and plopped down on it with a huff, sinking into the soft mattress like it had been waiting for me. The silk was cool at first, I could feel it through my jeans, though it quickly warmed where my body touched it. I stared up at the ceiling, still clutching the band shirt in my lap like it was a security blanket. The shower kept on hissing behind the door. Steady. Constant. Weirdly soothing, like white noise. \Minutes blurred. My eyes got heavy. The storm outside mingled with the shower noise. My thoughts drifted, a half question here, ha

Savannah Whitlock.He froze.For a second, his eyes landed on me. Towel clad, wide eyed, curled in the tub like a feral raccoon. He jerked back so fast, he nearly stumbled, turning his head sharply toward the wall like the tiles suddenly become the most fascinating thing on earth."Oh. Gods. Savannah, I'm sorry!" His voice came out rushed, genuinely alarmed. He lifted a hand up to the side of his face, palm angled out, blocking his view like a shield, "I am not looking. I'm not looking."I stared at him, mortified beyond speech.He kept his gaze firmly locked away, his jaw was set tight, and his shoulders were tense as if he was trying to find a way to physically rewind time. "When I didn't hear you answer," he said, the words tumbling out fast, "You swore and then went quiet and I thought..." he swallowed. "I thought that you might be in trouble.I continued to stare at his face, and even through the steam, even with his face away and mostly covered, I noticed it.A faint blush warm

Asher DravenHartSleep didn't come gently.It never did. Not since I was old enough to understand what it meant to have a pack, let alone lead one. Not since grief had taught my body how to rest with one eye open.The first time I had learned that was the night we were rushing home with my mother in the bed of the truck,She'd been the last Luna we had for the pack, and she had died on these floors with my father's hands around hers and my name stuck in her throat like a prayer she couldn't finish. When the rogue clan attacked, there hadn't been enough peace left to pretend that she had simply passed on. There was only the brutal clarity that kindness and leadership didn't save you alone, strength did. We cremated her at dawn.The air smelled like smoke, wet pine, and mourning that clung to the back of my tongue. My father didn't speak for hours. He just stood there, staring at the ashes like he could order them to breathe again. Later the others, while I grieved on my own, took her