The Ruined Luna

Eighteen

The small pack café was more of a coffee nook than anything else, but it came fully loaded with everything a person would need to make their own top tier drink. I was still hung over, so I was pretty liberal with the amount of espresso I dumped into my reusable mug. I desperately needed the caffeine boost.

Once our drinks were finished and in hand, we walked outside and onto the back deck to enjoy the crip fall weather that was beginning to settle in. There were several small metal tables and chairs spread out, so we selected a small two person one that was unoccupied and overlooked the lake.

"Would you believe me if I said I wasn't sure what to say right now?"

I paused, my white chocolate mocha latte halfway to my mouth before I lowered it back to down as I caught sight of Britta's sheepish smile.

"You don't strike me as the kind of person to never not know what to say."

Britta's chuckle was a little strained. "Normally, you'd be right. Knowing how to talk to people is pretty much my whole job. But since the other morning, I haven't been able to figure out how to approach you again."

I winced at the reminder. She meant the day I'd yelled at all of them after Kyrian had told me that leaving the pack wasn't an option he'd give me.

"You wanted to?"

She nodded, her slim fingers wrapping more securely around her coffee mug. "Giving you space seemed a little safer bet that trying to impose my presence on you. You were so angry at us. Rightfully so, of course. I would have been furious in your place. But staying away meant I wasn't able to learn how to talk to you. So, I couldn't learn your boundaries and I got a big insecure."

"What brought all this...honesty, on?" Assuming she was being honest.

Her narrow shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "I wanted to ask how your appointment with Tomine went, but I wasn't sure it was appropriate." Her expression turned wry. "You'd think at my age I'd have learned better patience."

A familiar nagging feeling tugged at my thoughts. Of every person I'd met since the change, none of them were more concerned about my feelings, boundaries, and my mental health than Britta.

I took a fortifying sip of my coffee. "You could have just asked."

"I could have." She agreed.

"Got your own baggage, huh?"

"More like ancient history. As old as I am, you tend to pick up some."

"Ah yes," I snorted derisively, "the ripe old age of thirty."

Britta gave me a long look. "I forget sometimes that you're so new to this life."

"Meaning..."

"I'm not thirty years old."

I gave her a closer once over. "No more than thirty-five. Like at the most."

"I'm one-hundred and forty-two. But it's nice to know how I appear to humans."

'A hundred and forty-two!? Oh, that's right. Immortal.'

"I'd completely gotten." I replied in wonder.

It seemed like a lifetime ago when I'd heard Michael muttering about it during one of his more lucid moments. As long as I wasn't killed, I was never going to die, or ever look a day older than I did right now. The reason I couldn't contact my family to let them know I was alive was because they'd never see me age. Talk about a lot of questions I couldn't answer.

I laughed humorlessly. "Just when I think I might almost have this whole wolf thing figured out. Anything else you think I should maybe know?"

Britta cocked her head to the side. "Pack members can mind-link to one another."

My mouth fell open. "What, kinda like telepathy?"

"It is telepathy. That way whether we're in human or wolf form, or a few miles away from anyone else, we can still communicate with one another."

"Get out! That's really fucking cool. Can we do other stuff!?" I hadn't thought to try, but if we got other superpowers or whatever I wasn't about to just pass up that opportunity.

"A few of us can, but its pretty rare." Britta giggled. "Becoming the wolf, immortality, and telepathy isn't enough?"

I coughed, my cheeks warming. "Anyway. So how old is Kyrian?"

"Alpha Kyrian. A little older than me, almost two hundred."

I choked back a snort. It figured he was old as hell. And to think I'd once been worried that five years was a bad age gap between two people.

"You and the Beta, does that mean you've been together a long time?"

Britta glanced down at the thin gold band that encircled the ring finger on her left hand, her expression growing dreamy. "One hundred and two years now. We were so lucky to have found each other so early."

I took a sip of my latte thoughtfully. "So, if you and Avery, Beta Avery," I corrected at her censoring frown, "have been together so long, do you two have children?"

The sharp acrid bite of sadness coated the air around us, and I could have bitten off my tongue as the light faded from her eyes a bit and turned haunted.

"Sorry. That's not even my business." I rushed to say as she angled back towards the lake, her hands drawing into her lap.

'Can you be a bigger asshole?'

An awkwardness settled over us, nearly palpable. For several agonizing minutes she didn't speak again, and I contemplated making a run for it before I said something dumber.

When she did start to speak, her voice was so soft I almost had to lean closer to her to hear.

"It's not really a problem with us, as far as we can tell." She began and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Werewolves as a rule have a very low birth rate. It's why we're so long lived, I think. Avery and I, our mate-bond came uncommonly early in life. It's not easy, finding the one, you know. Your mate could be anywhere, or not even born yet by the time you come into your maturity. Pack-meets are crucial because of this, or the summits if packs are unfriendly or enemies. So when he and I met, being so close to the same age and young, we were grateful."

"Your packs. They were enemies?"

"Yes. I'm not originally from this pack. My homeland's in Northern Montreal. Avery isn't either. He came from Mane. We met Kyrian during the same summit, and they got into some sort of mischief that should have killed them. When it was over, we followed him back to Washington. Before we knew it, thirty years had gone by before we thought about really trying. It'll happen, one day. We just have to be patient till then."

"I always assumed you'd need a female Alpha in order to become head hancho."

Britta took a large swallow of coffee. "We call the Alpha's mate a Luna. Technically, no, but its not a good look when it comes to how other packs view you. Like you're weak or lacking in some way."

I rolled my eye. "I'm sure Kyrian just loves that."

"Alpha Kyrian."

"Yeah, I'm not calling him that."

She sighed. "Anyway. Without a Luna, Alpha Kyrian can be challenged at any time for the title and right to lead the pack."

I bolted upright, going rigid. "Can anyone challenge him?" My wind was already whirling at the possibility. If I could fight him and win—could I leave?

Britta gave me a knowing look. "Any male can."

I slumped back, all the air going out of me. 'Damn it.'

A man I'd only ever seen in passing burst out of the sliding glass doors and onto the patio, throwing them open so hard I was shocked they didn't shatter before he rushed over breathing hard and deathly pale.

"What is it Reese?" Britta demanded as we lurched to our feet, coffee forgotten.

"A body. A body's been found just beyond the border."

I swallowed hard. He found me.

I gave Britta a wild, wide-eyed look. She clamped down on my arm. "Come on." And we took off at a run.