5. Moon Run

Sona sat on the steps of the shop with Raff beside her playing with his blocks, perfectly content and oblivious. Her, on the other hand, stroking his tufty hair, just sank deeper and deeper into worry about more things than one.

Herb Street’s end was Time’s Center. Instead of a platform like in Mona’s Square or fountain or entertainment area, a massive metal thing took up its center. It was made by Goldwater’s best smiths a hundred years ago, and of course it was breathtakingly beautiful.

The giant hourglass filled with white sand all the way from the beaches of the Mira Sea didn’t tell minutes or hours like its cousins, but the full moons—a countdown that turned by the strength of four wolves just before the Moon Run each month.

Which was today. A mixed-feelings type of event depending on one’s situation.

Presenting one of Sona’s situations: Raff, now choosing to throw his blocks into the street.

She sighed. “You know, maybe you need a cut lip, little monster.” He just giggled and pointed at the blocks being kicked or tripped on. “Stay here. Sorry, the hellion is just learning how to irk his mother.”

A passing female hurried to pick one of the blocks up and return it to her. “Is he five yet?”

There was that worry. Werewolves started to fully transform when they turned five years old, when their ears started to grow fur and incisors started to lengthen and they couldn’t fully control it—resulting in bleeding gums and cut lips. That resulted in crying, because it hurt and they didn’t understand, no matter how well parents tried to prepare them. No one could prepare anyone for pain.

“Two years left,” Sona told her.

“Ah. They go by fast! Try to let loose tonight, eh, Mistress? He’ll be safe with the caretakers.”

“Thank you. There are certain things I need to run away from for a bit.”

Before Raff was born, Sona spent almost every month for the past twenty years of her life flying through the valley’s uphill, her full werewolf form released for one night only, the only thing to worry about was which direction she wanted to start hunting in.

So many werewolves enjoyed the letting-loose, like being freed from a cage. It was a stress-reliever, a chance to feel the earth underneath hardened paws and fresh air in and out of lungs.

After Raff was born, however, for Sona it felt like leaving the cage was just walking into a trap of anxiety over him and her grandfather’s well-being. No wolf could prevent the Shift nor the savageness that came with it—it wasn’t that they lost sense or reason, but for that one night, they reverted to baser instincts. While pack mentality included caring for family above all, Moon Runs weren’t focused on pup-sitting the young or old—who are assigned a few female guardians to watch over them in turns so everyone got their run in.

Valleytown was bustling with eagerness itself. Shops were closed down, helpers in droves carrying fresh supplies—clothes, mainly, for when they all return to the edge of town they wouldn’t have to make the walk to their homes naked. Sona would bring some of her own things just in case there were any injuries that couldn’t be healed right away, and that had happened many times. She blamed it on recklessness.

Which brought her mind back to Conri. She always paired with him or Arden. But with her mate otherwise absent and Arden’s written promise to return, it was obvious who she was going to choose when the time came.

And before she knew it, it was.

Arden knocked on the shop’s door, peeking inside. “Ready?”

Sona smiled. “As I’ll ever be. Come on, Raff. Pa, I can carry that.”

“I refuse to be coddled, Sona. Just watch me do it myself.”

There were a few miles of neutral territory between all packs to assure they weren’t immediate neighbors. Moonvalley was one of four Cardinals, the biggest and most established packs. To the east was Redbone; to the west was Goldwater; the south was Leto.

Those miles were used for Moon Runs.

The Moonvalley pack was one hundred werewolves strong, and they all gathered at the town’s edge, Artem and Amaris at the head. Sona had Raff on her right hip and Arden on her left carrying supplies and guiding Auryn. Conri, extremely oddly, was nowhere in sight. Sona scanned the immediate crowd—no sign of Vallea Koray either.

Artem rose his voice into the dark blue night to rally his packmates for the excitement and freedom of the Run. Like usual, it riled them up well and good. Even Raff seemed excited.

Sona nuzzled his nose with hers. “Your short attention span is so sweet, my love. Pa, are you ready?”

He grumbled in begrudging agreement, hobbling over to her to take her hand and be led toward the caretakers’ area. Sona made it all of a few steps through the throng before she heard her name be called by a familiar rasping voice.

One that set her teeth on edge when once it made her heart bloom.

Arden came up behind her. “I’ll take them,” he offered quietly.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, trusting him wholeheartedly with their safety. “I’ll see you at the start?”

She saw his green eyes flick in the direction of his brother, hesitating, and assured, “I’m not running with him tonight.”

Of course Conri heard that. He jogged to a stop in front of them, brows knitted in confusion. “Why not?”

Arden herded her family off while she turned her back on Conri. “Yes, why not, mate?”

Her own hostility surprised her, but when she glimpsed the moon over Conri’s shoulder, she realized it was time for the Shift to take fast, hard control over her self-restraint. Which meant Conri’s patience was about to be thinner. Sona did not want to get into a verbal fight that escalated into physical—that, based on a strong disagreement they’d had before, could end in primal sex.

His jaw set. It was subtle, but she could see the Shift starting to transform him, feeling her own skin and bones grow and change. Their skin was sprouting fur, their ears elongating just like their teeth and limbs.

The transformation was their unpreventable curse. It was painful—one’s skeleton un-fusing and re-fusing into an entirely new one was not an easy or quick process. But the older a werewolf was, the more they could grin and bear it. Some were already running mid-Shift.

They looked no different from true-blooded wolves—except twice the size and twice as feral.

The second Sona’s four limbs hit the grass, she whirled toward the dark beckoning night and took off into the crowd. Conri barked wordlessly, but Sona weaved through all the moving bodies until she found Arden in his wolf form letting Raff, in his base form for only two more years, yank on his white fur.

Sona felt reckless. In too bold of a move, she brushed up against Arden, making sure her muzzle grazed his. It was a sign of affection and often a private gesture awkward to onlookers.

Her misfits’ ears swiveled—Arden’s in uneasiness, Conri’s in astonishment. She’d be appalled if he’d done it to another female. And she had an ugly, ugly assumption about that.

It was a challenge. One he would take on once she took off without either of them. She figured sweet, good Arden would keep his distance and was right to because Conri tried to pull the playful trick, cutting off her path to prance and purr, trying to rub against her in apology.

In their wolf forms, words came out as barks, and the only ones he used were, “Let’s talk about this, my mate.”

“It can wait until our temperaments aren’t so hot,” Sona huffed dismissively, weaving around him.

Though her worry for Raff and Auryn nagged at her, this night was one of those where she only wanted to relieve bottled-up stress. The exertion would clear her head and prepare her for the conversation—that would doubtlessly be heated nonetheless—she and Conri would have later.

Quickly Conri figured out she had no interest in pairing with him; he slowed to watch Arden join Sona in the chases for game. Before long they were making their way down the steep hill back toward home, the full moon no longer in sight nor fueling heightened senses and emotions.

When she reached the caretakers’ area, Auryn was in his base form and already clothed with Raff at his feet, pulling up grass and trying to eat it, it was Sona’s turn to be surprised—Arden returned her nuzzle and, moon goddess be damned, even licked her ear. He trotted off to the male section to transform back and clothe before she could turn her shock on him.

But she did turn it on her grandfather. He didn’t look approving of it as he handed her a long white robe.

She looked away, hoisting Raff up, realizing he was teary-eyed and sniffling. She pried the grass from his tiny tight grip. “What’s wrong, my love?” she murmured, kissing away the tear tracks.

“Da promise,” her son sniffed.

Auryn grunted. “He came by a bit ago and said he’d take the pup. Obviously didn’t.”

Sona’s heart twisted. Coming down from the high of adrenaline, her regret started to swarm her. This is ridiculous and it’s my fault.

Wait. No, it’s fucking not.

“Let’s get back. It’s okay, Raff. Da will come to visit you soon. Promise.”

“Promise?”

She kissed his temple. It was a shaky one, but, “Promise.”

Raff rested his head on her shoulder. She hoped he fell asleep as they trekked to the shop, hearing the hourglass in Time’s Center turn and echo through town, because her grandfather hissed, “What in the moon goddess’s hell was all that?”

Suddenly her throat thickened and she was very tired. Conri was nowhere in sight. He likely retreated to the manor the first chance he got. “I didn’t even give reason a chance, Pa, I’m so upset. It’s like he’s a different person. I don’t know what to do.”

“I meant Arden,” he said gruffly, “but about that absent bastard…you can’t change a wolf’s nature, Sona.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Arden is…caught in our crossfire. We have things to work out, too. But if I can’t change Conri…why should I try?”