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“The Moon’s Gift,” I said quickly, lest she fear my grasp of reality was compromised. “I’ve got… I’ve got a little more than most. And I just… it’s gotten stronger since I was mated.”
None of those things were lies, but confessing it felt strange and dirty. She-wolves didn’t talk about the Moon’s Gift. We all had it, and thevastmajority didn’t have more than vague, inexplicable gut feelings. Nobody talked about what we all had, unless you were claiming to be special, and nobody wanted to do that. My mother had always kept the extent of her own gift extremely private. Almost secret. And she had always advised me—when it’d become obvious I had acquired some degree of her talent—it was best toneverdiscuss it with anyone. Maybe not even my mate.
They’ll think too much of it, Winter. They’ll try to use it in ways it can’t or shouldn’t be used. It’s not a magic power we can fully tame. It’s more like our war-forms than anything else. Something we can barely control and should never consider reliable or safe. It’s the Moon’s Gift, and the Moon’s favor waxes and wanes. Don’t rely on it, but most of all, never let anyoneelsethink they can rely on it.
I’d been young and stupid and fascinated with the idea ofSEE THE FUTURE!but Mom had sobered me right up. She’d died before I had fully come into my Gift, and who the fuck even knew what she’d been thinking with those scrolls, but she’d been dead right about the Gift. Unreliable fucking pest.
“What did you see?” one of the she-wolves asked.
“Get to work,” Emily told the nosey she-wolf. “It’s not your business. Summer’s had a rough time of it. You don’t need to go sniffing around in the dirt.”
I bit down a growl. Poor little abused woeful Summer, she’s hadsucha rough life, we have to be nice to her. I could handle myself, thank you. I tugged the ribbon through the hoop on the ornament. Time to decorate trees with shiny bits.
I glanced back at the wolves doing their aggressive landscaping. Whatwerethey doing? Making a mud pit? Was mud wrestling part of AmberHowl Equinox? Interesting. AmberHowl Equinox might become my newest favorite holiday.
I dragged the folding chair over to my assigned cluster of trees and proceeded with the decorations, trying to ignore the shadowy chill that the dream-memory-vision had caused. Gaia and Her Wheel did not care about any of us. It’d just grind on, and if necessary, grind me with it.
The arrival of the males drew me out of my work. Didn’t recognize most of them, but Searle was in the mix, wearing battered shorts and a dusty, sweaty tee shirt as he pushed the wheelbarrow full of empty sacks.
One of the other males bumped into him, glanced at me, then took over the wheelbarrow.
My heart tried to squeeze through my third and fourth ribs like a fat cat stuck in a pet door.
Shit. Last ribbon in my bag, last ornament, except for the broken clay bell from when I’d tossed the bag. A broken bell. Was that bad luck? Might have been bad luck.
“Summer.” Searle’s low, quiet voice felt like his hand on my calf.
But his hand wasn’t on my calf.
I startled and stared down at him, dazed and heart pounding. I’d promised Sterling, but Icouldn’t. What was I supposed to do with all the fractured, broken pieces of what was left ofhim? He was still mine, and I still loved him, and I couldn’t make room for Searle like my heart was a couch we could all fit on.
It’d be a lot easier if we’d agreed to act until July, but Searle was a hunter, and Searle had made up his mind: Sterling was already dead.
Hell, everyone had taken that opinion: Sterling was dead, he just hadn’t died yet.
I was living in some strange twilight. The day was over, night wasn’t here, and morning definitely had not arrived.
All the she-wolves were looking/not looking, and the males were chortling and glancing back at us while theyslowllllyambled towards the house. I stretched my face into a smile because wasn’t that what I was supposed to do?
He took the bag from my left hand and set it down, then offered me his other hand. Oh, he was being gallant. The stage directions that now guided my life (plus the audience looking for their entertainment) dictated I put my hand in his. I did.
Would I ever get used to someone else touching me? Had my mother gotten used to it?
I guess Mom had, because I knew for an absolute fact my parents had had sex. I didn’t know how it worked in human homes, but in werewolf households, scents were scents, and unless you were drowning in MoonDark, some stuff was behind closed doors but not sealed tight. A lot of stuff one simply learned to tune out and ignore, and I’d never had any reason to suspect my mother had simply stared at the ceiling while taking a mental inventory of pack business.
She’d either played her partsupremelywell, or she’d, in the very least, made peace (and use of) with my father.
Promise me, Winter.
I bit my lower lip.
Searle gripped my hand, then slid his other hand around my thighs above my knees. With a quick squeeze, he lifted me off the chair.
He loosened his grip and let me slide through his arm to the ground. Which would have been fine, except the way he held me meant that as I slid through his grip, I slid along his body, my clothes and his bunching and folding and my breasts pushing against him, and—
As always, it took a conscious effort to not shove myself free. Had to keep up the show the rest of the pack was expecting.
He was sweaty despite the chill, and warm from whatever he’d been doing. He wassolid. As I’d have expected a warrior like him to be, but it was a bit too much like Sterling. Especially the soft bulge pressing into my hip—not because he wastryingto grind his crotch on me, but because he had anatomy and he was smushed into me the way my breasts were smushed into him.
