Lunar City

by Samantha Cross

  “So, are you saying you don’t want me to baby you?”

  One of his eyes popped open, and coyly he muttered, “I never said that.”

  “Ahh,” I responded with a smug smile on my face. I inspected his body again and couldn’t help but notice his chest breathing in and out erratically. His clothes were dirty and damp from sweat or moisture from the forest, I couldn’t be sure. I sighed. “Max, you look like shit.”

  “Stop complimenting me so much, or I’m going to get turned on.”

  “I’m being serious. I don’t care if you’ve done this fifty times or once, you can be honest with me. How do you feel?”

  He took a shallow breath. “Like I’ve been torn apart,” he admitted. “There’s not an inch on my body that isn’t in excruciating pain right now.”

  “Don’t you have some pain killers you can take?”

  “My body has to get used to it. It’s why it’s called conditioning.”

  “Sounds more like torture. Can I at least tuck you in or is that against protocol, too?”

  Amused, he said, “Knock yourself out.”

  I pulled back the covers, removed his shoes, and then rolled the blankets out from underneath him so he didn’t have to move. I then covered him up in three layers of blankets.

  “There, I burrito’d you up. Do you feel like a newborn baby, yet?”

  “You shouldn’t have even done that, I’m not staying.”

  “It looks like even blinking is excruciating right now, so I’m not going to make you crawl down the hallway to your room like some kind of sea slug. You can stay here tonight.”

  “Already we’re sleeping together? You’re a lot easier conquest than I expected.”

  “Don’t get excited. You’re gonna have to work hard if you want to get further with me. I may sound like a socially awkward fifteen-year-old girl most of the time, but I need more than one liners and winks.”

  “Lucky for you, I don’t have the energy to be charming.”

  “I don’t think I’m in any danger. Between your condition and me swaddling you up like a baby, I have a good feeling you’ll be keeping your hands to yourself tonight.”

  “That’s cute,” he said cynically, with one eye attempting to stay open and watch me.

  I lay down close to his right side and then snuggled up under his arm as he remained still with both eyes closed. I watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, wondering how his skin could look so flawless and intact, when a mere hour ago his body had been split open and contorted into the shape of a beast. It was astonishing that he wasn’t covered in scars.

  I pressed my fingers gently to his cheek, feeling the reemerged stubble of a burgeoning beard beneath my tips. His flesh was hot as fire, a temperature that I’m sure would have sent any normal person straight to the hospital. But Max wasn’t normal. Technically, he wasn’t even classified as a human. It hit me; I was actually in bed with a werewolf. I had nightmares about these beasts and yet, I was willingly holding one in my arms, and I wouldn’t change it.

  I rested my head into the comfortable crook of his arm and placed my hand on top of his chest, hoping my cool touch would be soaked into his skin. I heard the tiniest of rumbles deep within his throat and knew my hand must have felt like ice. I don’t know if it was a relief for him or too painful, but he didn’t object to me resting it on his body.

  “This reminds me of when I was a little girl and was sick for an entire week. My mom stayed home from work to take care of me. She brought me soup and crackers and would come in to put a new washcloth on my forehead every few hours. I didn’t have the strength to get up, so my VCR would keep replaying this old Lucille Ball movie over and over again. I hated it at the time, but I look back at it now with almost…a fondness. It was mine and my mom’s special time, just the two of us.”

  “So, you’re saying this can be our special time?” His voice was laced with cynicism.

  “If you have to go through this, anyway, at least I can be here for you. We don’t have to look at it as your recovery time, but as Max and Cora leisure night. I can even bring you soup and crackers.”

  “Why do you have to turn everything into something positive? Not everything terrible has to be converted into daisies and roses. Sometimes life is just shit.”

  “You’re alive, you’re getting help, and you’re with people who care. I’d say life could be a lot shittier than it is right now.”

  He said nothing.

  “What is it like?” I asked. “Not the transformation, but the time after, when you’re in that mode. Do you remember everything?”

  “I do now. I didn’t always.”

  “What was it like in the beginning?”

  “I still don’t completely remember the first time I turned. It was like a dream, where I only really remember bullet points, but don’t recall how I got there or how it ended. It’s probably for the best.”

  “If you hurt someone, you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. It’s not like you wanted to do it.”

  “I know that. I think I’ve been lucky.”

  “You know for sure?”

  “You’d be surprised how obsessed I was with checking the news to make sure there were no deaths by mauling in the area. I never came across a story. So, either I was a reclusive werewolf or I was killing animals.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it’d be like knowing there’s hours of my life where I don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done.”

  “Something tells me your cousin can relate.”

  “I’m trying to be serious.”

  “As am I. It’s a lot like blacking out after too many drinks. You have flashes of the night, bruises all over your body, but there are certain things you’ll never remember no matter how hard you try. Eventually, you just have to get over it and hope you didn’t do anything you’ll regret. Difference is, I had to cross my fingers no one wound up dead.”

  “Coming here must have been such a relief.”

  “It was a relief to know I’d be chained up and secured, but coming here felt like… it felt like what I imagine an elderly person feels when they’re put into a nursing home. They know it’s going to be the last place they ever live. They’re going to die there because they’ve run out of options and no one has the patience to take care of them anymore.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Sorry, I’m just too damn tired to have my filter on.”

  “I didn’t realize you had one.”

  “You’d be shocked to know how often I use it.”

  I lifted my head from his shoulder that I was resting on and he turned his face very slowly toward mine. “Just so you know,” I began, “You don’t have to worry about me losing patience with you. You may say something that drives me nuts, but I would never give up on you just because it became hard. I’m not like that.”

  “I know you’re not. That’s what’s fucked up.” From the weary look in his eyes, I knew he was still terrified he was going to hurt me. It was too late at night and he was too exhausted for me to give him another rundown of why that wouldn’t happen.

  Yes, I knew the risks, yes, I knew how much he overpowered me, but I also knew myself well enough to know I would never willingly put myself in the path of a werewolf again. Not after what I went through last summer.

  I saw how hard Owen fought not to hurt me, and I’d like to believe Max had it in him as well. I’d like to believe, with all his training and the way he felt about me that his fight would be even stronger.

  “Max.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You can fall asleep if you want.”

  His eyes closed and I felt him settle into the bed. I leaned over and very quietly pressed my lips onto his, feeling the heat of his mouth shoot into mine. Despite how ill he looked, his lips were still moist and kissable. I lay back down on my side of the bed and thought it best to try to get some shut eye.

  Suddenly, I heard Max stir. “You do that and now you expect me to sleep?”
he said, referring to our kiss.

  I grinned.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I woke up that morning to an empty bed, realizing Max must have slipped out in the early hours before I awoke. As I lifted my head from my pillow. I felt the moisture of fresh drool in the corner of my mouth and I promptly wiped it away using the back of my arm. I felt a slight tinge of embarrassment rush through me, hoping Max had left before seeing me in this unflattering state. Or maybe he had and that’s why he disappeared.

  I grabbed a hairbrush, a fresh set of clothing, and then headed to the bathroom for a shower. The water was scorching hot when I stepped in, so much so that the room fogged up and I found myself slipping into this super relaxed state. At one point, I stopped washing my hair and stood under the showerhead and let the water steam down on me until my skin was turning red.

  Having a quiet moment to myself in the shower, my mind began to drift to the night I spent wrapped up in Max’s arms. My ear was pressed firmly to his chest, letting the thudding of his heart work as a lullaby to put me to sleep, and I must say it gave me one of the best rests I had ever had. It was such a cozy, comforting sensation being held by him. Logically, I knew there was so much danger lurking beneath the surface of his skin, but none of that seemed to matter once I was lost in the moment. I truly felt like he would never hurt me.

  I dressed, left the bathroom, and headed back down the hallway to my bedroom while using my towel to dry my drenched hair and giving my head a good shake like a wet dog. My head was still down, hair hanging around my face, when I saw a pair of heels standing in front of me. I looked up and saw it was Brinly.

  Shit.

  I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet.

  “Hi, Cora,” she said. She sounded so nervous, it was rubbing off on me.

  “Hi,” I said back.

  “Do you think you and I could…” she looked around to see if anyone was watching us. There were people hanging out in the hallways but no one was really observing us. Once she realized this, she finished her sentence, “…talk?”

  I knew I was in for a heavy conversation about what I caught Lincoln and her doing, and I was reluctant to dive in deep. I just wanted to pretend it never happened. Instead, being stupid little me, I said, “Sure.”

  She turned around and walked down the staircase and I followed. Brinly looked fidgety just being around me, for reasons I didn’t even need to think about. She couldn’t stop playing with the long pink braids hanging at her chest, twisting them around her fingers and sometimes popping one in her mouth and chewing on the tiny hairband.

  Once we were in the entrance area I asked, “What did you want to talk about?” I don’t know why I was playing dumb. We both knew I had caught her and Lincoln in the act.

  Her eyes darted around the open area and said, “Wait till we get to another room.”

  Brinly ended up leading me to the library. There was no one inside, just bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling and black leather seats circulating around an oak coffee table and an unlit fireplace. It was a very cozy and private room.

  I was still by the doorway when Brinly began to nervously speak with her back to me. “What you saw last night with Lincoln and I—it’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, good, because it looked like you two were making out,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm. Brinly stopped in her tracks and turned her squinted face to me, a thousand excuses undoubtedly running through her head, all of which she knew would most likely come out sounding odd. I decided to stop her before she even began. “Brinly, it’s not really any of my business.”

  “I know it’s not, but I wanted to explain, anyway.”

  I couldn’t wait to hear how she could spin this.

  “Paul and I… it’s complicated.” She sat down in one of the expensive looking leather chairs and sunk into the cushion like it was made of quick sand. “Our relationship isn’t typical. When I was a teenager, Paul and I were promised to one another. One purebred with another purebred.”

  I knew it. I knew when Aga mentioned arranged marriage that it had to apply to Brinly and Paul. They were such an odd pairing that it made perfect sense.

  “My parents did their best not to make it seem like it was an arranged relationship, telling me I didn’t have to date Paul, that I didn’t have to give him a chance, but the older I got, the clearer the right choice became. I knew what I had to do and I knew what was expected of me.” With a shrug she added, “I started dating him because I wanted to like him.”

  “That’s awfully romantic,” I snidely remarked.

  “You don’t get it. This is our way of life, this is who we are.”

  “You’re right, I don’t get it. At all. Is making out with Lincoln behind your boyfriend’s back a way of life, too?”

  “Shh! Keep your voice down,” she yapped at me. The door was closed, we were alone, yet there were ears everywhere.

  “I’m sorry, but I am so confused. I thought you loved Paul.”

  “I do.” Her voice was layered with trepidation and she couldn’t stop fidgeting in her seat. “I made a mistake.”

  “Which is the mistake, Lincoln or Paul?”

  A look of confusion furrowed her brow. I don’t think she was expecting me to cut to the chase like that.

  Her hands dropped into her lap as she sighed. “It’s not so black and white like that. Paul has always been someone I was supposed to be with and I ended up caring about him more than I ever imagined. It’s what I genuinely wanted. Lincoln was just… a surprise.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “A while.”

  “A while as in a day? A week?”

  “A month,” she said.

  Wow, so this was a full on affair.

  “You have to believe me when I say this was not something I went looking for. When I met Lincoln, it was like this feeling came over me that I couldn’t fight. He didn’t expect anything out of me, he didn’t judge me for where I came from or what I was. It was the first time someone was seeing me. Not my family, not my werewolf gene, just my soul. It sounds corny, but it’s true.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  Her face fell and she clamped her lips together tight. She wasn’t going to say. I sat down on the sofa in front of her, with just a tiny coffee table dividing our knees from touching, and I looked her dead in the eyes. “You can be honest with me,” I said. I softened my voice so she knew I wasn’t demanding anything from her, but was here if she wanted someone to confide in. “Do you love Lincoln?”

  Her brown eyes blinked shut in one slow, long lashed blink, and the faintest of smiles appeared on her face. “In some way, I’ve loved him since the moment I laid eyes on him.” She looked so at peace, so utterly happy saying it that I was getting secondhand butterflies in my stomach. It was like the love was an actual physical thing that was radiating off of her body.

  “I’ve never said that out loud before…” she admitted quietly, the dizzy smile growing on her face. “I love him.”

  “Then, if you love him, why aren’t you with him?”

  All the happiness in her face quickly dissipated and one long line creased on her forehead. “It’s not that simple,” she insisted.

  “How is it not simple? Look, I’m not going to tell you how you feel, but I mention Paul and you look miserable, yet Lincoln’s name is brought up and you look like you could sprout wings and take flight. One of these things is not like the other.”

  “Paul and I have just hit a rough patch.”

  “Yeah, falling in love with another guy will do that,” I quipped.

  “You say that like I don’t have feelings for Paul.”

  “Do you? Because I’m hearing the words come out of your mouth, but I’m having a hard time buying any of it. You look like you’re practicing a speech for debate class.” I lowered my voice. “Is Aga forcing you to stay with him? Is that it?”

  “No.”

  “Then why not leave Paul? You’re not marrie
d and you don’t look pregnant, so there’s no obligation to him. Even if you do love him, it’s obviously not enough, otherwise, you wouldn’t have fallen for someone else.”

  Her demeanor became very, very serious. “Do you have any idea what would happen if what we were doing were to come out?”

  “It doesn’t need to come out, exactly. You can just break up with Paul and then wait for the right time to make you and Lincoln an official thing.”

  “You’re not getting it. Lincoln is a member of Paul’s pack. If this were to come out, Lincoln would be blacklisted from the group, he’d never be able to show his face again. I can’t take that chance.”

  “You said Lincoln wasn’t even planning on staying here much longer, anyway.”

  “Paul’s pack is very loyal to him. They’ll see this as a betrayal and they’ll come after Lincoln.”

  “Come after him? What exactly does that entail?” I don’t know how I looked, but I felt like my eyes were bugging out of my head. Her phrasing made it sound like the mafia would put a hit out on him.

  “It’s better not to ask.”

  Shit, maybe it was like the mafia.

  I got out of my chair and sat down on the edge of the coffee table, so she was forced to look me directly in the eyes. “You can’t stay with someone because you’re afraid of what might happen to somebody else. You have to live your life for yourself.”

  “I’ve never known how to do that.”

  “Maybe you could give it a try. I understand being scared for Lincoln, I really do, but I’m sure he can take care of himself. “

  Her head dropped and she looked like she wanted to cry. “It’s not just Lincoln I’m afraid for.” Her teary dark eyes raised to meet mine. “I’m afraid of what will happen to me.”

  That was a red flag and I went into protective mama bear mode. I got as close to her as I could without slipping off of the coffee table, clutched her hands tightly and asked, “Is Paul hurting you?” She hadn’t answered yet, but I was already enraged and doing my best to bury it so I could be there for her.

  “No,” she said with a lackluster headshake. “But he’s changed. These past few months he’s been… erratic, to say the least. I never know what’s going to set him off at any given moment. One minute, he’s the Paul I first met, who was charming and intelligent, and then something really stupid will happen and he loses his mind over it. It could be something so extremely irrelevant, but he makes it into a huge ordeal. It’s like he’s looking for an excuse to yell at me.”