Chapter 5 CHAPTER 5

When Luna woke up, she noticed something was different about the world that morning.

Colors looked brighter, scents sharper, like someone had pulled a veil off reality, and everything suddenly pulsed with quiet electricity.

The depressive air around her had been eliminated.

Luna could hear things she wasn’t supposed to: the heartbeat of people walking past her locker, the faint rhythm of chalk against the board from three classrooms away, and even the rush of blood in her own ears. Her senses were awakening slowly, and so was something deeper.

For the first time in years, she stared at her reflection and didn’t look away. She was interested in admiring her features.

The same brown hoodie, the same baggy jeans, but beneath it, she could feel a woman rising. Her skin glowed subtly under the morning sun, and her eyes, usually dull grey, carried a shimmer of silver.

She didn’t know what was happening, but she couldn’t shake the strange energy thrumming inside her veins. Her body felt too alive, too aware. It wasn’t just physical. It was emotional and magnetic. Like the air sang to her beautifully.

Across town, Damian felt the same pull, only his own was maddening.

He sat in class, surrounded by the same people who always fawned over him, the new rich kid with a mysterious past, the kind who turned heads and broke hearts without trying. Yet, that morning, every laugh grated on his nerves, every perfume smelled wrong.

He was uninterested and unmotivated to relate to the rest of the world.

He couldn’t focus.

It was as if someone had taken a part of his soul and left him hollow. This was a growing feeling he couldn't ignore.

His wolf paced within him, restless and growling. Easily irritated, He’d been through hundreds of women and some men. Lust had always been easy, transactional. But now, it felt like something had been taken from him, something raw and irreplaceable.

He wanted to be better, like growth was suddenly within him.

He clenched his fists under the desk, jaw tight.

Who the hell was she?

That silver wolf still haunted his dreams the way she glowed beneath him, the way her scent burned into his soul. But she couldn’t be real. No female wolf had silver fur. It was said to be an extinct curse. He had committed a taboo and hoped none of his clan would ever find out or smell it on him.

He refused to believe his mate was real, or worse, that she could be someone ordinary like the people around him.

Then, Luna walked past his classroom window.

Her scent hit him first. Moonlight and something wild, untamed, familiar, intoxicating. He froze. His heart slammed against his ribs.

He didn’t even see her face, just a flicker of her brown hair and those nerdy glasses that hid her eyes.

His pulse quickened.

His wolf roared inside him, Mine.

Damian gritted his teeth. No. Can’t be.

He chuckled and said, “Never.”

Spoke to himself and said, “Calm down boy, you re overthinking.”

He wasn’t going to be tied to some plain, unnoticed girl who probably blushed at compliments and flinched at attention. He was a Blackwell heir to an empire, son of a king. He didn’t fall for girls like that.

www!!

But his instincts didn’t care about pride. His senses betrayed him. They followed her.

Meanwhile, Luna couldn’t explain why she suddenly hated the new guy.

Everywhere she turned, girls were talking about him, the “fine bad boy from New York,” the one with the dangerous smile and the golden eyes.

Even her usually calm classmates giggled about his accent, his car, his tattoos, his prideful gait.

It irritated her.

His confidence. His arrogance. The way he seemed to walk through the halls was like he owned them.

She tried not to care, but her wolf stirred every time she heard his name, a low growl in her chest that made her clench her fists.

When she passed him in the hallway, their shoulders brushed, and her breath hitched.

It was like being electrocuted, a spark so strong she stumbled a step.

Damian turned, eyes burning gold for a split second, his control slipping. His heart recognised her before his mind did.

Luna blinked up at him, confused, flustered, her wolf whispering in her head, He’s the one.

But pride was stronger.

She rolled her eyes and brushed past him. “Watch where you’re going.”

Damian stared after her, jaw tight.

He didn’t understand why his entire body burned from just one touch.

And yet, as she walked away, he couldn’t look anywhere else. He looked at how she looked like rags, and she wore rags. She was too ordinary for him and unkept.

Why would a girl not take care of the basic things in her body? Scoff!!

That night, they both couldn’t sleep.

He wondered about her and insulted everything in her, making sure to mention to his father to change his school before he got infected by poverty.

Damian paced his room, trying to drown his thoughts in music and whiskey. He missed New York City, the fast life, the party and the women.

He thought about the threesomes he had before leaving New York, thought about his girlfriend Lesley, who was human, and their sex was always so magical. Damian wondered how she took his sexual urges without complaining. She knew sex tamed him.

Lesley and I had always been friends with Pamela and she became one of Lesley's friends over time. Lesley and I used to have fun with other couples and Pamela was aware of our playing around. We both understood that in our type of relationships it's harder to pursue sexual innuendoes in case the friendship is ruined.

This is how it was with Lesley and Pamela, despite my having a thing for Pamela. Her BBW stature didn't put me off, but I wouldn't have included her in my go to types of sexual partner, and so our relationship remained platonic, until the situation between Pamela and her boyfriend turned a little sour and had to be curtailed.

It was Lesley who caught Pamela's advances first, though I didn't know it at the time. I lived in my own vast world, leaving Lesley to seduce prospective couples for us to-fuck with. I had just assumed that Pamela was out of bounds.

The first I knew of the new boundaries was a day before I was about to travel abroad on business. Lesley took the direct approach: "Do you mind if I visit Pam in London while you're away?" Of course, I didn't mind, and I told her so. It was her special grin that made me think twice about the question.

"What do you mean by see?" I asked.

"You know, visit, stay the weekend, have drinks, a meal out. Meet her friends.

You know, can I?"

"And." I raised my eyebrow, waiting for her reply.

"Well, if anything happens, then it will only do so if you say it's okay."

That made me smile.

"You mean if I say no, then nothing happens."

Lesley seemed to digress into sulk mode. I grabbed her, turned her to face me, and kissed her. "Of course you can, but only if it won't spoil your relationship," I said.

She suddenly became Tigger the Tiger, bouncing everywhere, "I knew you'd be ok with it," she replied.

And I was. I only ever wanted her to be happy without any social restraints that society seems hell bent to place on everyone.

The last few days of the week seemed to drag. On Friday, I caught a plane to South Africa, and early on Saturday morning, Lesley caught the plane to London.

The time difference is very little, and by the time I had eaten my evening meal and found myself in the hotel room, Lesley would be coming to the end of her first evening with Pam.

I texted her. 'Well, anything to report? Have you fucked her yet?"

I waited for the reply. I must have looked at my phone several times and was in the middle of composing another text when the reply came through.

"Not yet, finishing off the meal."

Finishing off the meal, I thought that was very non-committal. There wasn't enough information.

'Have you kissed her yet?'

Another long wait ensued. She was driving me mad, and Lesley was always quick with her replies and intentions.

I don't want to frighten her. Taking it easy!'

I bit my lip. That was not Lesley at all; she was always up-front and sure of herself and the situation. My only thought was that she was leaving the

advances to come from Pam. Not a bad plan.

'Let me know what it was like, if you do. I hope you do.' I responded. It was time for bed, and I left them to it, several thousand miles away. I wish I could have been a fly on their wall right then.

But the salacious thoughts wouldn't go away. Scenarios played out in my head. I couldn't sleep. I kept checking my phone, which had nothing to report. I imagined them pulling their clothes off, falling on the sofa or bed, legs prising apart, and tongues lapping. I imagined the moans and groans and the yes-that's-it," "don't-stop-right-there," and "fuck-that's-nice" streams of verbal outpourings.

'Can't stop thinking about you. How's it going?' I texted her; I knew I shouldn't have. I should be more macho. I knew I should be patient and let her text me. I wasn't expecting a reply, and I tried my best to get some shut-eye. I nearly jumped out of my bed when the phone pinged. I grabbed it and sent it flying across the room. I practically ran after it and hurriedly looked at the message.

“Pam is in the loo; it was gorgeous. I'll tell you more about it when I can, in the morning.”

That was her morning, of course. I would be at work by then. I got a potted account of the shenanigans that evening; the full account of the weekend had to wait until I returned from the business trip. I had to wait a week to hear it in full, and I was right; I would have loved to have been a fly on that wall.

Lesley had me, the alpha male of the strongest werewolf clan in history, on a sexual high always, or so I thought. She knew sex was my weak point, and she always satisfied, or so I thought.