Chapter 22 Full Moon 2
Davina's POV
I hadn’t even been in the cabin twenty minutes before it started to feel suffocating.
The howling outside didn’t help, every time another voice joined in, the sound built until it felt like the whole mountain was vibrating. It felt ancient, layered, almost like it was alive, pressing against the cabin walls like it wanted to get inside.
I sat on the edge of the bed and just listened. It pulsed through my chest in a way I couldn’t really explain.
I threw on my jacket and stepped outside.
The cold hit me like a splash of ice water, carrying the fresh scents of pine and damp earth, with something wild lurking beneath. The moon was fully up now, huge and bright, casting a light that transformed the compound from its daytime self into something softer and a bit stranger.
"I knew you wouldn't stay inside."
Sloane was perched on the steps of the neighboring cabin, wrapped in a blanket and cradling a mug in both hands, looking completely unfazed to see me.
I settled down beside her. "Why aren’t you out running with the others?"
She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Omegas don’t run with the pack on full moon nights," she explained, tightening her grip on the mug. "We’re not required to. Some do, but I’ve never really felt the pull like the others do." She shot me a sideways glance. "Want some? It’s hot chocolate, I made extra."
"You made extra on purpose."
"I had a feeling you’d be out here."
She disappeared inside for a moment and returned with a second mug, snuggling back into her blanket beside me. For a while, we just sat there in the cold, watching.
And what a sight it was.
The wolves who’d shifted were slipping through the trees in the distance. You’d catch them in flashes, dark shapes cutting across the gaps between trunks, moving so fast it took effort just to follow them with your eyes.
Over in the eastern clearing, the younger ones were chasing each other and plowing through the brush. It was a wild and carefree energy, nothing like the careful, watchful way they carried themselves back in the compound during the day.
Suddenly, one of them let out a howl so close and unexpected that I spilled hot chocolate on my hand.
Sloane burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking.
"Sorry," she managed between giggles. "Your face!"
"I wasn’t scared," I protested, wiping my hand on my jacket. "I was just surprised."
"Completely different things."
"Absolutely."
She was still smiling, and that smile made the chilly night feel a little warmer. I wrapped my hands around the mug and leaned my shoulder against hers.
"Can I ask you something?" I ventured.
"Always."
"What’s it really like? Shifting. Does it hurt? Does it feel good? What’s it like?"
She took a moment to think, which I appreciated. No easy answers here. "It’s both," she finally said. "The shift itself is uncomfortable, your body is doing something it shouldn’t be able to do, and it knows it. But once it’s done and you’re fully shifted, everything just… opens up. Your senses, the way you experience the world. Everything is bigger and clearer, and you’re completely in tune with your instincts." She paused, gazing out at the tree line. "Honestly, it’s the freest I ever feel. Which is funny because, you know, I’m literally an animal when it happens."
I looked out at the clearing, where the young wolves were still chasing each other.
"I've just been wondering how it feels." I said.
"I knew you'd be curious" She nodded.
We sat in a comfortable silence before I broke it.
"There’s a friend I have in town that I know would be wondering where I went to," I said after a moment. "Liam. He works at the hardware store two doors down from my shop. He used to bring me coffee on slow mornings, and we’d chat about nothing for twenty minutes before heading back to work." I turned the mug in my hands. "He has no idea where I am. He’s probably been to the shop, found it dark, and just thought I took a short trip somewhere." I hesitated. "It’s been almost two weeks."
Sloane was quiet for a moment. "Do you miss him?"
"I miss what he represents," I admitted. "Easy, normal, nothing complicated about it." I glanced up at the moon. "Everything here feels so heavy all the time. There’s always something happening, always something at stake. I didn’t realize how exhausting that was until I started thinking about those slow mornings and bad coffee."
Sloane nudged my shoulder gently. "For what it’s worth," she said softly, "I’m glad you’re here. I know that sounds terrible given everything, but I really am."
I looked at her, and felt something settle in my chest that had been restless since I arrived.
"It’s not a terrible thing to say," I reassured her.
She smiled into her mug.
We sat there a bit longer, chatting about lighter topics, her childhood in the pack, the hierarchies and traditions, the particular chaos of full moon nights, while I shared stories about the shop, like painting the back wall on a slow Saturday and feeling oddly proud of it. The conversation flowed effortlessly, like good conversations do.
I didn’t realize how much time had passed until the howling from the tree line changed, becoming lower, signaling that the pack was starting to come back in.
Then I heard footsteps on the path and looked up.
Zane appeared around the corner of the building and halted when he saw me.
He was wearing different clothes, a dark shirt and trousers, with his hair damp at the ends. His eyes sparkled brighter than usual in the pale light.
He glanced at me sitting on the steps, then shifted his gaze to Sloane.
Sloane stood up smoothly, tucked her blanket under her arm, took her mug, and said "Goodnight" to no one in particular before heading inside.
The door clicked shut behind her and Zane turned back to me. "I asked you to stay inside."
I stood up, cradling my mug with both hands. "And I heard you when you said that."
"Davina."
"I’m a grown woman, Zane. I sat on the steps of a cabin very close to mine and watched the moon with a friend. Nothing happened."
"That’s not the point, and you know it," he said, frustration flashing across his face. "Full moons leave the compound on edge. The younger wolves lose control, the boundaries get messy, and you’re the only one out here that don't have a wolf that can protect you."
I met his eyes across the space between us. The moonlight cut across his shoulders, his jaw was clenched tight, and there was something in his eyes that looked almost otherworldly.
"I understand that you’re worried," I said, keeping my tone calm. "But if you want me to respect this place and truly be present in it, you can’t keep asking me to stay locked away. That’s just not who I am."
He studied me for a long moment.
Then something shifted in him, the tension in his jaw easing, the frustration still there but pushed aside. "Come inside," he said quietly. "Please."
The "please" did it.
I followed him up the cabin steps and pushed the door open and he was right behind me, close enough in the narrow doorway that I could feel the warmth coming off him, something about the full moon making it more noticeable than usual, and I had just turned around to say something when his hand shot up and pressed flat against the wall beside my head and he stopped, just like that.
His face was close, his eyes scanning mine with precise focus, and then he leaned in slightly, just enough for me to hear him exhale slowly through his nose.
Every rational thought I had made a quiet exit.
"You smell incredible," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low whisper, almost to himself. "It makes it very difficult to resist you."
The cabin suddenly felt very warm.
I didn't move and neither did he.